Date Night (Peterick)

Chapter 1

A/N: Before we get started, I know the cover is blonde Pete, but just assume that every fic I write is set in the Save Rock and Roll era because honestly that's when their fashion was at their peak. So Pete has dark hair in this story, and I will be referencing it, and I just didn't want to confuse anyone even though nobody pays attention to the fucking cover while reading the story.

I approached the table that had a single red rose, the simple flower that signified a client. I smiled and took a seat across from the man, fidgeting with anxiety and nerves. I use to react the same way when I first stated out, but now I've done this countless times and every session is more of a chore than anything. A means to an end. A paycheck. Its a job. a job that I dread every night. Of course there are a few clients that are okay and I like talking to and enjoy their company, but most of them are either boring, old, or unattractive.

As soon I take my seat, the waiter approaches and ask if I would like anything to drink and suggest a fine wine that I would never drink if the client weren't paying. I accept the offer of the wine that I couldn't repeat, simply because I can't pronounce it. After the waiter leaves I take a look at the man in front of me in more detail. Strawberry blonde hair, fair flawless skin. He definitely doesn't fall under the old or unattractive clientele. 

"Have you ever done anything like this?" I asked already knowing the answer.

"Uhm.. No." He smiled nervously.

"Well don't be nervous." I  gave a small smile. "I don't bite, and everything that happens here, stays between us. Completely confidential." I reassured. The waiter returned and poured a small amount of wine in my glass. "Leave the bottle." I tell him politely. I took the bottle and actually filled my glass so I wouldn't have to pour repeatedly. "While I don't bite, I do have rules. First off, if you see me in public outside of the date night, we do not know each other. I am not your friend, I am not your boyfriend, which leads into the next two rules. Do not develop feelings for me, this my job, and I am getting paid to be here. My third and last rule is no sex, its not part of the date night package. You will not offer me money for sex either, I am an escort, not a prostitute and you offering me money would be very insulting. Other than those three rules, the world is full of possibilities. I will say however that kissing is circumstantial to the date and I will decide when its appropriate."

"I can do all that." He nods in return. "So uh, I feel like I should have been told this by someone. Not you but the people I talked to before to have this set up, but whats your name?" He was still visibly nervous, and I could hear it in his speech.

"I'm Peter." I laughed a little as his expense. He's so anxious, and I probably shouldn't laugh at him. "They didn't give you a name because they have to find someone that they feel would be compatible with you, or have good chemistry with. Stuff like that. What about you?" I asked before taking a sip of my whine.

"I'm Patrick." He answered. His eyes drifted off at something behind me, but I didn't care enough to turn around and find out what it was.

"Can I start you two off with some salads as you two look over the menu?" The waiter asked from behind me. Well there's my answer.

"I would like a salad, but I actually already know what I want." Patrick said. "If you're ready to order too I mean." He looks at me.

"Oh, yes." I turned in response. "I'll take the salad, but I would like the lobster, with extra butter please."

"And can I have the 8 ounce steak, cooked at medium rare?" Patrick asked with a smile. He has a nice smile. It really brightens up his face.

"Of course. I'll get those salads out in just a minute." He smiled before turning and walking away.