Chapter Text
Louis let out a long groan as he shifted in bed, one of his eyes peeking open as he noticed the… sun?
Fuck. Fuck.
He immediately sat up, staring blankly at his alarm clock that was definitely not working.
Not. Good.
He was going to be late. He was quick to get out of bed, forgoing his usual morning routine as he rushed to his closet to find a suit for the day.
“He’s going to fucking kill me,” he whispered as he dressed, grabbing his keys and practically bolting out the door.
When he reached the coffee shop (PJ’s, an infamous New Orleans chain), he was met with a long, long line. However, he was relieved when he caught the eye on Jonah, the barista that he’d been flirting with for the last year. Thank Christ. Today was the day it would pay off.
“Louis!” Jonah called, pushing a waiting tray towards him on the counter. “Here you go, your usual order.”
“Jonah, you have literally saved my life today. I owe you, thank you,” he said, flashing the other male a smile before he picked up the tray and was out the door.
Luckily, Trinity Gate Publishing, the book publishing company he worked for, was just two blocks away. Two sideways slanted New Orleans blocks, but he could manage with two drinks – he had to. He just caught the elevator as he entered the building, feeling an instant wave of relief wash over him. He had made it.
Lestat hummed as he watched the instructor on the screen before him, putting a little extra ‘oomph’ into his morning Peloton ride. He had always been an early riser, and he made it a priority to get a workout in every morning. “Come on Cody, give it to me,” he mumbled, adjusting the tension on his bike as he rode hard.
Once he was done, he hopped in the shower, rinsing before he stood in front of the mirror and applied his ridiculous eleven-step skin care routine. It was vain and he knew it, but his skin looked incredible – how could he stop?
He fastened a towel around his waist, humming as he made his way back into the bedroom then into his spacious walk-in closet. He selected his favorite Gucci suit, deciding it was fit for the day. He had an important call with a client the company had been looking to land for quite some time now, and he had a feeling today was going to be the day he said ‘yes’.
Grabbing a breakfast bar on his way out, he headed to the waiting car.
Lestat de Lioncourt was a man of means, and he would be the first to admit he had a taste for the finer things in life. He had come to New Orleans when he was nineteen from France, and he had helped build Trinity Gate Publishing into what it was today – one of, if not the most, successful publishing companies out there.
“Thank you,” he said as the driver opened his door once they arrived at the office, taking his time as he headed up to his office.
“I can’t believe I made it,” Louis mumbled to himself, winding through a few colleagues towards his desk until – fuck.
“I’m sorry!” Came a voice, and suddenly there was hot coffee all over the front of his suit. Lestats coffee.
“It’s… it’s okay,” Louis lied, forcing a smile onto his face before heading over to Daniel's (his best friend at work – and outside if he was being honest) desk. “Daniel, I need your shirt. Now.”
Daniel eyed him over his glasses as he popped up from behind his cubicle, an amused expression on his face. “Lestats coffee?” He asked, knowing how their boss could be.
“Please,” Louis pleaded, holding the others' gaze. “You know what today means to me, I – come on man. I will owe you. Big.”
Daniel tilted his head to the side, always being one who loved being in a position of power. “Well,” he said, “I want…” He lowered his voice, clearing his throat. “I want you to invite Armand next time we hang out. Deal? He still won’t talk much to me, but he’s nice to you and I-"
“Deal,” Louis said without hesitation, knowing how hard up Daniel was for their quiet coworker.
Not five minutes later were they changed, Louis confident and ready to take on the day.
“Good morning, boss,” Louis said, handing Lestat his coffee and he strolled into the office. He couldn’t help but to admire his suit, and the way it hugged Lestats body. It was no secret that his boss was extremely attractive, but it was also no secret that Lestat had a terrible reputation for his temper – most of the office referred to him as ‘Satan’ behind his back.
Lestat took the cup as it was handed to him, nodding at his assistant before making his way over to his desk and taking a seat. He hummed, looking up so that blue met green.
“For the meeting this morning, were you able to call… bon sang, what’s her name? The… one with the ugly hands?” He asked, curling one of his hands for emphasis.
Louis had to bite his tongue to try not to smile, nodding his head softly. “Yes, Josephine. I did call her, and I told her if she doesn’t get her manuscript in on time then we won’t give her a release date.” He stood beside the desk, his hands at his sides. “Also, the immigration office called again, and they said that it’s imperative that you get ba-"
“Cancel the call and push the meeting until tomorrow,” Lestat said, cutting him off and waving a hand to dismiss the subject. He picked up his coffee, an amused expression on his face as he studied the cup. “Louis, who is Jonah? And why does he want me to call him?” He turned the cup, showing the note to the other.
Louis froze, not having seen the note. “I… well, that was originally my cup,” he explained, clearing his throat loudly.
“I see,” Lestat said, an eyebrow arched as he looked at the label. “And I’m drinking your coffee…why?”
“Because your coffee spilled.”
The blonde took a moment to look Louis up and down, a curious expression on his face. “You also drink non-fat cinnamon lattes made with oat milk?”
“I do… it’s like… Christmas in a cup,” Louis said, feeling his cheeks heat up.
Lestat smirked. “And that’s just a coincidence, hmmm?”
Louis shifted as the phone on his boss’s desk started to ring, thankful for the interruption. “I do,” he mumbled, inching towards the phone, “I wouldn’t drink the same coffee you drink just in case yours spilled, that would be, uh, pathetic. Hello?”
He held the phone up to his ear, ignoring Lestats gaze. “We’re heading up now. See you in a minute. They want to see us up top.”
Lestat pushed himself to his feet, cup still in his hand as he sauntered to the door, pulling it open. “Then we better go.”