That night, Brendon is just finishing getting ready when the doorbell rings and he takes one last look in the mirror and fixes his hair before he goes downstairs and opens the front door.

Dallon is standing there, with a lazy smile on his face. He isn't wearing a complete suit anymore, but just a pair of dress pants and a black button-up.

"Hey there, pretty boy," he says, as he looks Brendon up and down and it makes the short man blush.

"Hi..." "Are you ready to go?" "Yeah. Let me just get a jacket." "Take your time, love."

Brendon grabs a jacket and puts it on, before locking the door after him and walking with Dallon, to a very expensive car. He is suddenly reminded that Dallon was an important businessman and it just freaks him out a little bit.

"Please, sit down," Dallon says, as he opens the car door, to let Brendon in. When he sits down, next to Brendon, he leans forward, so he can talk to the driver, before leaning back again and winking at Brendon.

"So, Brendon... Tell me about yourself." "Wait. I never told you my name..." "No, I know... But I can read nametags." "Oh, yeah. Well, uhh... I'm from Las Vegas, I'm 22 years old and I'm an intern at a software company." "You're 22?" "Yeah, why?" "I thought you were a few years older." "Oh... Is that bad?" "Not if you don't want it to be."

Brendon cocks an eyebrow, not sure what Dallon meant, but he just decides to roll with it.

When they arrive at the restaurant, Dallon offers Brendon his arm and Brendon just holds it. He was slightly weirded out, mostly because no man he'd ever gone out with before, had ever treated him like this.

A waiter comes their way and just gives Dallon a quick nod and a gesture to follow him.

They go to a secluded table for two and Dallon helps Brendon sit down, before sitting down himself. He gives Brendon a look that can only be described as kind, but maybe slightly possessive.

"Would the two gentlemen like a glass of wine?" The waiter asks and Dallon just nods, not looking away from Brendon. It makes the short man nervous because, for some reason, he feels exposed, like this.

And it's not like he hadn't been a little exposed before. Before he had taken the internship, he had worked as a stripper, in downtown Las Vegas, in a gay club. But he was happy that he could leave that in the past now.

The waiter walks away and Dallon leans closer to Brendon, holding one of his hands.

"You look absolutely beautiful, Brendon," he says, in a sincere tone and Brendon blushes again, smiling a little.

"Thank you, Dallon."

Dallon sits back when the waiter comes their way again, with a bottle of wine in his one hand and two menus in the other.

"Mr. Weekes, I have a very special wine for you tonight. It's an Italian wine, imported from there."

Dallon just nods and the waiter starts to pour him a glass, before asking Brendon if he wants a glass too.

"No, thanks. I don't really like red wine." "Then what do you like, sweetheart?" "White wine is better." "I want your best white wine," Dallon says to the waiter, who nods and walks away, after handing the two men the menus.

When they have ordered their food and both have something to drink, Dallon sits back and looks at Brendon again, this time with a softer look in his eyes.

"So, what did you do for a living, before you took this internship?" "I really don't think you want to know. It's slightly embarrassing..." "I still would like to know." "I used to be an... An erotic dancer."

Brendon tries to make his old job sound a little better than it actually was and he can't help but feel a little proud, but also ridiculous of coming up with 'erotic dancer'.

Dallon raises his eyebrows, clearly not expecting Brendon to say that and he clears his throat a little.

"I-I just did it because I needed the money to pay for college and I stopped as soon as I got that internship. And I never did anything besides the dancing." "Hey, no need to get defensive, it's fine. I just didn't expect it, is all." "So you're not grossed out?" "I'm not. In fact, I have a lot of respect for erotic dancers, as you said. I think it's a very hard job. It must be tiring." "Really?" "Yes." "Alright. I'm sorry, a lot of people just think that if you're a y'know... a stripper, you're also a slut and it's easy to get in their pants and everything." "I would never think that. It's just their job, just like how running a company is mine. When I'm at home I don't go bossing everyone around either, so why would it be any different with a stripper."

Brendon smiles and nods, he was happy that Dallon wasn't judging him, but was actually telling him that he had respect.

After dinner, both men just get a few more drinks and all of a sudden, Dallon seems to get a little more serious. He leans closer again and Brendon frowns a little.

"So, as I told you, earlier today, you don't have to do that internship, if you don't want. I don't mind, helping someone as beautiful as you out, with some money, in exchange for... Well, in exchange for something else. Maybe that you accompany me, to some business dinners and other things. I think we can work out an arrangement if you'd want that." "Are you offering me money?" "Yes, I am. And maybe some other things, if we do work out an arrangement."

Brendon is a little startled, to say the least. He had heard his friends talking about sugar daddies and sugar babies before, but he never thought he would get an offer to become a sugar baby, himself.

"I uh... I need to think about it." "That is understandable. Please, take your time. You can text me, or call me when you have decided. There's no pressure."

Brendon nods and smiles a little when Dallon pats his hands. He couldn't wait to get home and tell his friends about this.

A/N: Have a new chapter. I don't have a publishing schedule yet