short & horrific

Title: The Last Baker [17]
Author: shorthorror
Pairing: Brian Haner & Zachary Baker
Rating: NC-17
Summary: This beautiful asshole just came around and started ruining everything for me. I was the last Baker, and I'd promised my father our name would not die with me.
Disclaimer: I am confident the readers can distinguish between what is real and what is fiction. I need not state the obvious.
Dedications: To the people that take their time to NOT say 'Aaww they're so cute together'. Yes, I know. Thank you for the reminder.

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The hotel Brian and I pulled up in was nothing short of the lavish and outstandingly stereotypical replica of the everyday celebrity pit stop. Three thousand dollars a night, bellboys and concierge at your every beck and call, chrystal chandeliers so blindingly bright you had to wear sunglasses indoors. Some of the patrons in the hotel's grand lobby were clad in fur coats, Gucci jumpsuits, the latest in Versace, bedecked in gold and ice. They carried large Louis Vuitton bags that you thought were simply massive, until you saw the mountainous truckload of luggage being carted behind them. You quivered in their shadow if you didn't have the looks or means to fit in. Luckily, Brian and I had both.

We made our way up to the front reception where Brian slapped his credit card down on the high rising desk. "I need a room for one night."

The woman who, at the time, was busy speaking on the phone, nodded and then hung up the receiver. She stared between Brian and I as though we were the rarest of American delicacies. Her hazel eyes sparkled at us with approval. I knew women could sense money. "I assume you're paying up front?" She asked, eying the platinum card before her. I suspected she was wondering the exact same thing I was. How much money was really on that platinum credit card? Thousands? Hundreds of thousands? Maybe... millions?

Brian didn't say anything, he just slid the card closer to her with a wry smile.

"Are you interested in staying in the West wing, where we have the twenty four hour spa in our selection of penthouse suites, or would you care to stay in the East wing?" The woman asked, smiling as tightly as the bun on her head was wound.

"What's in the East?" I wondered aloud.

"We have our honeymoon suites and singles in the East wing sir." She recited by heart.

"We'll take a penthouse." Brian cut in quickly.

The woman receptionist nodded and proceeded to fix Brian with a small stack of papers to sign.

"Just so you know, each of our penthouse suites has a Californian queen size bed with a sitting room. A bathroom with a whirlpool spa, steam room and a cocktail bar." We were told.

Brian smiled contentedly and nudged me with his elbow. "Ooh drinks."

"I like drinks." I replied, smiling just as approvingly.

"Most of our guests do." She giggled.

Did she think we were rock stars? Sure, we sported the dark couture, the facial metal and the full sleeve tattoos. But did we really look like famous musicians? As I glanced about curiously, I saw my reflection in a mirrored column behind us and pondered. Rock star? No. I wasn't cut out for that sort of thing. Rock stars had to work. Business owners got to spend. And spend we did, until we were shown away by a concierge named Gustav who had seemingly sprung up out of nowhere.

The hotel was simply massive and crawling with people. The West wing accompanied ten floors with over ninety penthouse rooms that acted as expensive little hideaways or temporary homes. We were on the sixth floor, suite number forty five. I had no idea what to expect.

In the elevator, classical piano ballads played over the sound system. Mozart, or Bach, or whichever genius musician's product had been raped by modern society. They shouldn't have been playing anything from the baroque period. It was wealthy business men and contemporary artists that stayed in places like these. Neither of which had any time to truly appreciate that type of music.

Brian and I were quiet because of the presence of the concierge. We looked at each other, and then back at the man who paid us minimal attention. When we reached our floor with a ding of conformation, Brian held the uniformed hotel employee back with a strong arm before he and I stepped out.

"My partner and I are quite capable of navigating our way from here on our own, sir. Thank you for your assistance regardless. Now go tell your boss that Brian Haner told you that you should get a raise, or extra benefits or... whatever." Brian trailed off.

The concierge's eyes shifted between the both of us as he stepped back into the elevator. Brian nodded, smiled and waved goodbye as the doors began to close.

"Have a good night sirs." Was the last thing spoken before the elevators doors clamped together and Brian and I were free to converse, walking down the wide hall in search of our room. Mind, it wasn't a far walk since the room were huge and the floors could only fit so many.

"Nice place huh?" Brian asked me, as we located the correct set of double doors.

"Nah, it's a shit hole, Bri."

"I'm sorry Zachary, but my broke ass could only afford this place. I know it's not up to your unreachable standards, but a humble man such as myself can only do so much." Brian played along, earning my laughter as I rested my chin on his shoulder.

He fumbled with the key card until finally realizing the stripe was supposed to face down. When the doors unlocked, Brian took hold of the aged brass handle and twisted it open. I smiled, satisfied as we walked into the suite. Directly ahead the four poster canopy bed awaited like a luxurious chariot of soft and dark blues, chiffon ribbons winding down the stained wood posts and cascading over the top to create that romantic bed setting. And I wondered how many other couples had fucked on that very same bed?

To the left of the room there was a large and clear bay window accented by heavy blueberry drapes. The window must have been ten by ten feet and exhibited the city of Los Angeles below. All lights and traffic jams that were now trivial to us. Now that we were up some several stories from the ground, I could look down and praise the fact that I was no longer moving along in vehicular groups every couple of inches.

Brian and I surveyed the suite from the Honduras Mahogany living room set to the closet sized bar attached to it. I inspected the stemware curiously, checking for stains and finger prints before taking a quick glance inside the glass cupboard underneath the bar counter. There were forties of every kind of alcohol you could possibly need; from Gin to Jack, Vodka to Kahlua, Bailey's and Rum and Tequila Gold. The only problem was that there was nothing else to mix with unless you ordered it up to the suite by telephone.

"Come check out the bathroom!" Brian called to me, his voice giving off a slight ring of an echo.

I closed the glass case and gaited towards the bathroom door. Brian was holding it open so I could look inside alongside of him. The bathroom was about the same size as the main room, except there were two bowl sinks with a long mirror stretching around the entire room. The bathroom was decorated with intricate designs and fake Roman columns painted white to contrast classically with the deep red theme. In the middle of the soft stone floor there was a circular in ground Jacuzzi almost the size of the bed, complete with drink holders and heat control. There was a black covering over the water and I could just imagine the little water jets spouting their pressurized bubbles onto my back.

"I wanna go in the Jacuzzi!" I declared.

"Then start it up, and I'll go make drinks." Brian said before he smacked my ass encouragingly. I growled at him playfully on his way out.

After he left I took off the covering and folded it into a neat cone shape, throwing it to the side before I located the switches beside the entrance. When I turned the knob on, the whirlpool hummed to life and began mixing the water with billions and billions of tiny little bubbles that looked like foam.

Outside of the bathroom I could hear Brian whistling and the tinkling of glasses. I smiled before I hurriedly stripped off my clothes and made my way over to lower myself into the hot water. I shivered at the temperature change and carefully sat down, wincing because of the heat. It felt great and the chemical smell of clean water drowned out any other sort of scent and taste. The jets pounded against my skin, surely turning it red, but it felt so good to envelope myself in hot water.


"Some liquid cocaine for my baby," Brian said as he came through carrying a tray of six shot glasses.

I scoffed when he set the tray down by me. "I thought you were making us drinks, not trying to get me sloshed like some high school whore."

Brian shrugged before pulling the hem of his shirt over his head, tossing the article on top of all my clothes. "Then go make your own drinks."

Brian started laughing as I grew silent and lifted one of the shot glasses. I smelled it and grimaced slightly at the bite of the Goldshlager mixed with Jager and Barcadi. I knew drink to be a deadly concoction that men used on women as liquid panty remover. After a few shots of liquid cocaine, you didn't remember much of the night afterwards.

I watched Brian, namely the way his muscles shifted, as he undid his belt buckle and slid his pants down. The light in the room made his skin glow so radiantly. I bit my lip as he lowered his boxers and left them on the floor the way he stepped out of them.

"Starin' at my junk." Brian mumbled playfully as he lowered himself into the whirlpool with care much like I had.

"My junk."

Brian smirked at me as he approached. "Now look who's all open and honest."

"What do you mean?" I asked, giggling.

"I don't know," Brian began. "I got the feeling that you were a little nervous around me, but I guess they don't call alcohol 'bottled confidence' for no reason."

"Maybe it's not the alcohol. Maybe I just like you?"

Brian slid over beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "You just like me."

I nodded, biting my lip again and staring up at him with my eyes wide and beckoning.

"I like you. You're sexy and you make my penis happy."

"I wish I could say the same about you." I replied jokingly.

Brian dropped his jaw in mock astonishment as he lifted up a shot glass from the tray he'd brought in. "I'm just going to take this shot and pretend I didn't hear that."

"That's right baby, drink your pain away." I giggled, just as I touched my lips to the edge of the small glass.

Brian tipped his head back, spilling the contents of the glass into his mouth and down his throat in record time. After he had swallowed with a merciless shiver, he slammed the glass beside the giant hot tub and stared at me. I knocked back my shot equally as fast and then looked right back at him.

"You know what? I'm treating your ass like fucking gold, I suggest you show me a little respect before I call up for some whips and chains to punish you with."

I shook my head. "Nah, I'm not into that S and M shit."

Brian laughed lowly, dipping under my jaw to press a few light kisses to my neck. I felt his breath ghost over my skin in short titters. "Baby, that's why it's called slave and master. The slave has no say in anything that the master does."

"Who says you get to be the master?" I challenged him.

"I'm the one who pays." Brian said as he ran his wet hand through my dry hair.

"I wouldn't call that being the master. Technically, you're my bitch. You work for me. And I've had your ass more than you've had mine." I pointed out.

Brian passed me another shot. "I plan on changing that tonight."

"Well what if I don't want to have sex with you tonight?"

"Listen here, ya little brat. Take your fucking shots and then come and sit your ass down on my lap."

"I'll take my shots," I replied. "But I'm not sitting on your lap."

Brian kept his chocolate eyes on me as I took both of my remaining shots one after the other. I swallowed and shook my head as the bitter flavour of three different drinks washed through me, hot and acid curdling in my stomach.

"How did that feel?" Brian asked, rubbing my leg underneath the bubbling water.

"Great." Said I with an unpreventable smile.

I didn't pay attention when Brian took his shots. I simply laid back and let the water jets pound against my skin, turning it raw and sensitive.

"You know, they say you get twice as drunk when you drink in a hot tub."

"I'm not drunk. I'm that perfect balance of not sober but not drunk either."

I closed my eyes and listened to the whirring of the Jacuzzi. I felt at ease and perfectly satisfied with life at that moment in time. I was in Los Angeles, drinking with my beautiful boyfriend, sitting in a hot tub in one of the most prestigious hotels around. This was the kind of life I wondered why my father didn't live. He had all the money and the means, but when it came to spending he did nothing but the opposite. He invested. He invested in companies, in stocks and saved thousands to pay for me to go to college or university. Though he could have had a lot more fun with his riches, I thanked him now that he hadn't, for I wouldn't be able to reap any of the benefits he had left with me. And I especially wouldn't be in the heart of California, relaxing in a five star suite while a gorgeous man poured free drinks down my throat. Maybe that's why we were said to be 'Generation Triple X'.

After a few minutes of luxurious soaking, the dripping sounds of Brian lifting himself out of the water pulled me out of my dreamlike state. I opened my reddened eyes and watched as he got out of the Jacuzzi and grabbed a white towel from the linen closet to wrap around his slender waist.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"Well," Brian cleared his throat. "I'm going to go make myself another drink, then I'm going to tempt you into having sex with me all night, since that's really the reason I brought you here in the first place."

I scoffed. "Not just to be cute and romantic and spend time with me?"

"Zack, I spend time with you everyday, all fucking day. I kiss your ass like the little bitch of yours that I am. I think one night of you submitting yourself to my will is definitely in order. Now hurry up, I'll be waiting for you on the bed."

I knit my eyebrows together all through the duration of his statement. But instead of retaliating as I would have liked to, I did something else. After all, how could I possibly argue with a point like that?

"Fine you fucking whiner! Be naked when I get in."

"I AM naked!" He yelled back at me.

"Good!"

I scrambled out of the hot tub, irritated that I got to spend all of ten minutes lazing about in it's soothing water. I followed Brian's actions and sauntered, dripping wet over to the linen closet where I selected a large towel off the top of the stack. The hotel's initials were woven in gold into it's soft fabric and that's the only reason why I didn't steal towels from hotels. I had yet to visit one that had my initials embossed in curvy script.

I sort of stalled for time instead of jumping right into bed with Brian. I lingered in the bathroom until he called my name impatiently.

"I'll drag you out by your hair and fuck you against the wall if you don't hurry that sweet ass up!" He threatened me.

I chewed my lip and giggled to myself before leaving through the open doors. It was cold in the room and my skin instantly prickled. But after seeing Brian laying a top the duvet, completely naked, playing with his cock, I wasn't sure if I had goose bumps from the hot to cold or the sight before me.

Tonight was going to be fun. As if it weren't already. I could tell it was about to twist onto a new path as Brian sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and moaned. I watched the way his large hand clasped around his erection and massaged that dick like no one else was watching. I let myself shudder, amazed and so suddenly hungry with lust. I myself got hard just watching Brian stroking himself like a genuine porn star. If I had a camera and a boom mike, it would be the perfect set.

Brian beckoned me over with a come hither leer and a hook of his finger. I instantly dropped my towel and climbed onto the bed, making my way over to his naked body like he was my prey, just awaiting me, easy and pliant, not at all resistant.

"We're gonna have fun tonight." Brian told me, bringing me down for a sloppy yet passionate kiss.

As I kissed him, I wondered how we'd grown so close and attached. The transition from enemies to full time lovers seemed to whiz by in a blur of motion, forgotten words and second looks. The next step was something I hadn't imagined for myself in the longest of times. I had a feeling that tonight, Brian and I would be stripped completely, body and soul and forced to look at each other with different eyes. I was already feeling with new hands, tasting with a tongue I had yet to get used to.

Tonight we were just Brian and Zachary.