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"Lash, Lash, Lash. You've been a naughty boy lately." The Doorman's mellifluous voice turns sinister towards the end, echoing with the whispers of damned souls.
Lash scratches the back of his neck, glancing around the liminal space. "Aren't you supposed to get all in my psyche or whatever? I'm a naughty boy every weekend, baby."
The Doorman seemingly ignores this, although the damned souls get a little louder. "Whatever shall I do with you?"
"I mean, how much time do we have?" he asks with a very macho, definitely not-terrified wink.
The Doorman's answering laugh sends chills down Lash's very brave spine.
It was like someone had dragged a knife down the large of his back. Lash's eyes burned like the wick of a candle in an impossible abyss, surrounded by the howling cacophony of nothing in the service hallways at The Baroness.
The Doorman stepped closer. If it wasn't for the way his eyes cut through Lash's flesh, down to the very bone, he'd look fucking ridiculous in that bellhop uniform. He wanted to tell him as such, but a glare like an icicle off the roof of a ski lodge in the Catskills killed the words in his stupid mouth.
"Forever," The Doorman answered. Something inside Lash told him that was more accurate than he wished.
He swung at the man in front of him, trying to black the piercing blue of his fucking eyes! God, that fucking blue! It was in the carpet, the lights, it was all over him. He felt the hotel swallow him and then the warmth of The Doorman's lips on his.
"The door. You opened it. I came."
The Doorman's hand sought Lash's and brought him close for a tango.
"Here, everyone knows your name."
Lash followed The Doorman in a spiral dance down a staircase, always two steps behind but inextricably close.
"I have such sights to show them," The Lash answered.
That same laugh, now saccharine, sent tingles up Lash's spine and through his skull. "Why wait?"
Willing guests all cheered his name through the night. The attention was a high he couldn't find himself falling from. Some bitter piece of Lash twitched in his muscles, pulling him back to the streets, the ritual... whatever that was. It wasn't important, and the twitch disappeared under the deft hands on his back at the spa.
Breaths puffed in time with each other, and lips caressed as soft as the silk beneath them. Forever felt amazing.