(I hate) Everything about you
“For the safety of my people, I will drive with you. You British people are used to driving wrong.” Cole said, grabbed the keys from Cole hands and quickly sat in the car. He really didn’t feel like coming home now to a wife, his wife. The thought made him sick. He opened the door for Beckett and nodded him in. “I’ll gladly be your chauffeur today Lord Beckett” he said with the sweetest smile.Beckett ran his eyes carefully over Cole’s face then down his body, then back up. He raised his head a bit and sat down, gripping one of Cole’s belt loops and pulling him down slightly.
“If this is a ploy to get into my bed, it isn’t working thus far,” he whispered, kissing him. “You are here on business and that does not include working to get my pants off. Understand?” He added, releasing him. He inwardly smirked as he watched Cole walk around the car to the driver’s side. The colt wanted to push his boundaries and Beckett was not about to have any of it. As much as he was aching to fuck the young stud, he would remain calm and deny him his wants until neither could stand it any longer.
“Just being a good employee Milord, nothing more” Cole said still smiling, starting the car “Where would you like me to drive you? Straight to that company?” He turned the air conditioning on and looked for the right radio station.
He watched Cole’s fingers move and was suddenly lost in a fantasy of those fingers over his body and he had to shake his head. “Yes that’s fine,” he said, half-way distracted. The no sleep was beginning to kick in. He rested his elbow against the centre console then rested his head in his hand. He needed caffeine and quick. Beckett looked back to Cole, eyes dancing over him. He had to remain calm, he kept reminding himself.
Cole moved his fingers slightly over the radio again, changing it to the right song. He was sure Beckett was firstly too tired, secondly too horny to notice that the song that was going to be played was actually a little manipulation caused by a demon lawyer. Everyone knows that music can affect your mood and sometimes actions. Of course in a clear, awake state there was no chance that Beckett would fall for a raw, animalistic sex song, but his Lord was far from that. Cole upped the volume, entering the highway as he hummed to the song played - Closer by Nine Inch Nails. Cole’s prick tickled every time the word “fuck” was left out, as he imagined Beckett whispering the word in a low, almost angry yet needy voice. His lips would brush over Cole’s ear. Oh, he could hardly wait to finally feel Beckett’s … he swallowed hard, “Y’have some cigarettes?”
Beckett opened his eyes again and blinked once, then looked over to Cole. At the moment, he hated himself for appearing in such a semi-conscious state in front of anyone. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his dwindling box of Dunhill’s and the silver lighter, holding them up.
Cole took one of them, he wasn’t really a fan of Dunhill’s but they would do. He got a bit dizzy after the first deep draw; it has been a while since his last cigarette with Beckett. Cole stopped at the red light and looked over to Beckett, that guy was no fun in the state he was in. Boredom just led to be hornier; he wouldn’t get any if Beckett fell in a coma caused by lack of sleep any second. “Let’s get you some coffee or tea. I’ll pay, you know, as a compensation for smoking all your cigarettes.” he said keeping his eyes on the traffic light. The idea of Beckett falling asleep during the meeting was very tempting and soothed his sadistic streak to humiliate the man that treated him like a pet, yet Cole had to admit he enjoyed Beckett more full conscious. He wanted to see Beckett’s pale face turn red in anger, just like that fucking street light that wouldn’t turn green.
Beckett’s stomach turned at the idea of coffee. It was such an American drink, and most brewed it far too strong and put far too much sugar in it. Tea, however, required a much more refined palate to enjoy. He was rather surprised that the drink was as popular as it was in America. He didn’t think there were enough to appreciate the drink for its simplicity and its complexity. Then it entered his mind that most Americans did not drink tea correctly anyway-most drank it iced or cold. He felt like throwing up. Tea was meant to be hot and strong. He hardly noticed when Cole pulled into the first of many Starbucks’s drive thru. He looked slightly over Cole’s chest to the menu board and had to push his shades down lower on his nose to make sure he was reading this correctly. ‘We proudly serve Tazo Teas.’ Beckett scoffed. Tazo. The very company he was about to go negotiate a new contract with. He pushed his shades up and looked to Cole and shook his head. "I'll have a coffee."
“Coffee? What happened to the Lord of the Teas?” Cole chuckled and ordered their coffees, handing one over to Beckett.
Beckett remained silent, taking a drink of the espresso roast coffee in his cup. Really? This was the best they had? It was a sad excuse for a European coffee. But it would do for the time being. He would not be caught dead drinking the tea of a company he was about to argue with. He shook his head. “This is coffee? Remind me to take you to Turkey when we return to Europe and I shall show you what true coffee should taste like,” he finally said, giving a glance to Cole.
Cole scuffed, “You’re never satisfied with anything are you? Here let me help you, try something along the lines ‘Thank you Cole’ or ‘It’s not the best but that was a good idea’.” He took a sip of his coffee, excellent. “Would you get in the damn line you jerk!” Cole yelled honking the horn. “Besides if coffee is that bad, why didn’t you drink your damn tea?”
“Did you see the company?” he asked calmly, taking another drink of his coffee. “Tazo. The company whose contract with the East India Trading Company you so politely pointed out was full of loopholes. The company you and I are to negotiate a new contract with. Valid enough reason not to drink the tea.” Beckett rubbed his left temple. The caffeine was beginning to wake him up but was also giving him a headache. He did not drink coffee often-if hardly ever-and the sheer amount of caffeine was a bit overwhelming.
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