Page 42 of The Hookup Situation

I don’t bother to leave, just strip out of my clothes and into his. We’re the same size so his clothes fit me perfectly but I’m still skeptical, and the mesh material feels weird against my skin. I also just feel strange wearing something see through to anywhere that isn’t a bar or a club, or some wild college party.

He clears his throat once I’ve got both items on. “You look good.”

I meet his gaze again. “Really? Because I feel ridiculous.”

“If you don’t believe me, take a look for yourself.” He gestures to his free standing mirror and I turn around. A smile splits my face.

“Yeah, okay, maybe you’re right.” My tattoos on display under the mesh shirt are pretty cool and these pants make my ass look amazing. “Might freeze my balls off but it’s worth it.”

“You’ll be inside, and you’re wearing a coat. Stop whining and let's go.”

I grin and we head for the door, grabbing our coats and sliding our shoes on. Since I’m treating him I drive us to the theater and we make our way inside.

Holy hell, Chris wasn’t kidding. Everyone is dressed up. Even under all the winter coats I can spot students and staff wearing costumes, and I’m far from the only one in mesh. There’s lots of lace and fishnets happening too. And people went all out. There’s dozens of Dr. Frank-N-Furters walking around in the lobby, as well as Magenta, Riff Raff, Columbia, Brad, Janet and Eddie, and others.

“Jesus,” I whisper.

“Told you,” Chris grins. I’m kinda trying to take everything in since I’ve never actually been to a theater performance here before. The ground floor is swarming with guests, and there’s two sets of stairs leading up to the theater entrance on the second floor, with another lobby area outside the doors that’s just as full of people waiting in line for the doors to open. I’m glad I got tickets when I did because I think this might be a sell out.

We move through the line once the doors open and show the usher our tickets. They hand us programs and ask if we need any help finding our seats. Chris, who’s been here before without me, assures them we’re good and I follow him.

We remove our coats and sit. There’s about fifteen minutes before the show starts and I open the program, flipping past the show dates and times, location of the performance, production credits and the director’s note, to get to the cast list. It’s in order of speaking, so Jackson doesn’t show up right away, but when I spot him I can’t help smiling. They have the actors’ names and a small biography for everyone, and I read through his. I can’t believe I never knew his last name until now. Jackson Bardot. Why do I like the sound of that so much?

“Reading about your guy?” Chris asks, glancing at my program. I can’t help grinning widely. “Anything you didn’t know?”

It says he is from California, is a theater major and other than acting, loves running, dancing, watching trashy reality shows, spending time with his friends, andLord of the Rings. I have to smile at that last one. “Other than his last name, no,” I reply.

We read about the other actors as we wait for the show to start, and I can’t help but feel on the edge of my seat when the curtain pulls back.

The audience is thoroughly engaged the entire time. They’re shouting out lines, singing along with the songs, and I’m ushered out of my seat when theTime Warpsong starts and everyone gathers in the aisles to join in, some spectators even being pulled onto the stage to join the actors. It’s seriously the most fun I’ve had in a long time, and I’m non-stop grinning from ear to ear.

That is until a second curtain pulls back, “Brad” and “Janet” fall to the floor, and “Dr. Frank-N-Furter” saunters onto the stage wrapped in his black cloak, and singing. Jackson’s voice is so incredibly good I’m struck dumb, and he looks amazing, his dark hair a bit wild and his stage makeup on, making him the spitting image of the iconic character, with the thick eyeshadow, full red lips and pearls around his neck.

I know what to expect from having seen the movie, or at least I think I do. But when Jackson whips his cloak aside I’m pretty sure my heart stops and my cock jerks at the same time. Holy fucking shit, he’s hot in his costume. The tights, the panties, the heels, and that fucking corset clinging to his slender, pale frame.

He’s a vision to watch, not just his beautiful, fluid body as he moves across the stage, but the way he embodies the character, making him come to life for everyone in the audience. Every actor gives a top notch performance but Jackson stands out above all of them. He comes alive on stage and it’s plain to see how much he loves it. The crowd is drawn to his passion and enthusiasm.

I can’t help thinking what it would be like to have him spanking me in that outfit. Fucking me in it. Hot damn.

The show ends with a standing ovation and I can’t stop cheering and clapping for Jackson, and the rest of the cast.

The lights come up and we make our way up the stairs and out after the director comes on stage to tell us that the cast will be out in the lobby to shake hands and greet people.

There’s a huge crowd of people outside already and I have to look around for a bit before I spot Jackson on the upper level of the lobby with people crowded around him. I notice Parker and Rory saying hi and congratulating him. Rory gives him a hug, and then Lucy is there wrapping her arms around him, a huge smile on her face. It’s clear how much both of them love him.

I wait off to the side with Chris until the crowd has dispersed a bit before I make my way over to him. I’m not sure if he’ll want to see me just because he seems so convinced he can’t let anyone know about the nature of our relationship, but I am assuming that just talking to him won’t give anything away.

I can’t help the way my heart beats faster when he turns and sees me, and a grin breaks out across his gorgeous face. God, I wish I could kiss him.

“That was incredible,” Chris says, reaching out to shake Jackson’s hand. “You’re very talented.”

“Thank you,” Jackson rumbles in his deep voice. He sounds tired, and worn out, and I can’t tell if his voice is raspy from overuse or because he’s getting sick, but he still wears a smile.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs,” Chris tells me, squeezing my shoulder and then walking away.

There’s a few people milling about and other actors talking with guests, but I have Jackson to myself right now. I find myself having to shove my hands in my pockets so that I don’t reach for him.

“I like your outfit,” I tell him, and he gives me that sinful smirk. I take a step closer, but there’s still a good amount of space between us when I whisper, “I don’t suppose you could steal it to wear later?”

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