Secretary Andrew's First Date

Shocking as it may seem because of Andrew's overall stunning visuals and gorgeous personality, he also has never been on a date since college. Too busy working, too busy studying, and extremely busy partying with friends to ever entertain a romantic relationship.

That's why today he will fulfill his desire to have a swoon-worthy college date with a rich older boyfriend. Even though it's with the boss he loathes, but on the bright side, Andrew will never have to spend another minute with Sir Allen if their plan succeeds. No, not if, when they're plan succeeds.

He inspected himself again in his college uniform. A refined blue vest over a faded yellow button-down shirt, and a pair dark blue slacks. He looked heavenly.

Now, what does a date with Sir Allen look like?

Photo 1: Andrew & Sir Allen in their school uniforms sitting side-by-side in plush theater seats. They wore 3D glasses and sweet grins. A bouquet of flowers and a ginormous bucket of popcorn on Andrew's lap.

Andrew walked into the Cinema Complex in search of his fake date. The complex was brightly lit with yellow light bulbs that framed each movie posters that were showing. The buttery smell of popcorn lingered in the air.

Standing beside one of the silver pillars that dominated the interior, was one man in a posh uniform of a school known for its affluent students. It was a long-sleeved shirt with a navy coat on top and a pair of slacks. The school emblem subdued in its earth colors.

The uniform maybe eye-catching, but it wasn't only the uniform that pulled the attention of passersby. It was the man who wore it himself... Well, if Andrew must admit unwillingly. The man did have an attractive aura about him. Too bad he was terrible boss.

Sir Allen has his hand behind his back. He must be holding something behind, or else he'd look stupid standing like that. Sir Allen turned his head and caught Andrew's eye. Sir Allen raised his hand from behind, revealing a bouquet of arranged flowers, and waved it in the air with a straight face. Andrew couldn't help but cackle at the sight of Sir Allen. They met halfway and Sir Allen shoved the bouquet in Andrew's hand.

"It's candy," he said. "Edible bouquet. A reliable source said that flowers are a must for first dates. But after thinking, you'd probably like something more practical."

Andrew swallowed one whole rose bud. It tasted like roasted nut chocolate. This was expensive shit. Andrew felt bad because he didn't bring anything. He glared at his fake date. He probably did this to make Andrew look bad.

Sir Allen leaned down and read the embroidered faculty name on Andrew's shirt, "College of Hotel Management."

"You know, even though you're excellent at your secretarial and executive duties. It never slipped my mind that you have another set of skills."

"And it never slipped my mind that you always ask me to make your complicated coffee," replied Andrew.

"That is because you make delicious coffee."

Andrew smiled. "Well, who said flattery never works? What are we watching?"

Sir Allen took out two cinema tickets and read it. "It's a romantic comedy. According to my source, this is the genre for movie dates."

Andrew huffed as he dragged Sir Allen to the snack booth and forced him to buy the largest popcorn they had on the menu. "Is your source Luiz by any chance?" Andrew asked.

A grunt came as his reply.

They were handed their snacks. On the side, Andrew put a swig of liquor in his Coke. They headed towards the theater and sat on their seats. Some staff handed them 3D glasses.

"I thought this was a romcom?" Asked Andrew, confused.

The staff grinned at them. "It's the latest mind-genre bending romcom of the century. It's popular online."

"Kids these days are so creative, aren't they?"

The staff snorted. "Aren't you two also kids?"

Andrew looked down on his uniform. He giggled. "Yes. Yes, we are. Before you leave, can you take a picture?" Andrew handed them his phone and wrapped his arms around his food. He blew out his cheeks and smiled. By instinct, he knew Sir Allen wasn't smiling.

"Closer," the staff instructed.

They both scooched closer until their shoulders bumped.

"Alright, smile."

Photo 2: Sir Allen wearing a weary expression as he pickpocketed a chocolate bar in a convenience store.

"Do it," grunted Andrew. "Quickly."

"Stealing is against the law," said Sir Allen between his teeth. "We are going to get arrested."

Andrew rolled his eyes. "No one gets imprisoned for stealing chocolate."

"Tell that to Jean Valjean," muttered Sir Allen. The veins in his forehead had become more prominent.

"A reference to a musical... You are gay," said Andrew as he pretended to scan the rack for anything. He took out his phone and readied his camera. He glanced at the convex mirror on the ceiling. The moment the cashier turned his back to microwave something. Andrew said, "Do it now."

Sir Allen snatched the chocolate bar and shoved it into his front pocket. He grabbed Andrew's wrist and pulled him as they made a dash for the exit. Andrew was pulled along as Sir Allen was determined to put a significant distance between them and the place of crime.

Until Sir Allen had deemed it was safe enough for them to stop. Andrew, with his hands on his knees, tried to suck in as much air as he could. Then he heard Sir Allen burst in joyous laughter. He turned around with a mischievous grin.

"I can't believe I just did that," he said, out of breath. He took out his prize and brandished it. "I just stole this bar."

Oh no. Did Andrew just convert his boss into a kleptomaniac?

Andrew took out a handkerchief from his vest. He closed the distance between him and his boss and patted the sheen of sweat on the other man's forehead. Sir Allen responded with a smile. Andrew could feel Sir Allen watching him.

"Come on," he said with a gentle voice. "I booked us something I know you would like. Take it as a first of many thank you's for your excellent service for me and the company."

This motherfucker treated Andrew like a slave. And not the good kind. Yet he thinks wherever he's about to take Andrew can serve as a thank you.

Photo 3: Andrew deep-throating a Kimchi Bratwurst in front of the meat section of a renowned International Fusion-cuisine buffet. An embarrassed Sir Allen was behind him.

Andrew moaned after he swallowed the Kimchi Bratwurst. He heaved a satisfied smile, but he still scoured the buffet to add more food to his plate like a vulture. There was an endless row of fusion food laid out in white marble, with the chefs behind their counters serving out their creations.

"Could you please stop making inappropriate noise each time you find something delicious?" A red-cheeked Sir Allen begged Andrew. The chef who took the photo returned Sir Allen's phone with clear hesitation.

For once, it was Sir Allen who cleaning up his mess, and not the other way around. If Andrew had to apologize hundreds of staffs for Sir Allen's rude behavior. Sir Allen could endure a few stares from renowned chefs.

They returned to their seats with a feast on their hands.

"Spill. How did you know that I've dreamed of eating in this joint?"

"It's not a coincidence that I've brought you here," replied Sir Allen, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes looking everywhere but Andrew. "I wasn't spying per se, but in one of return trips. I watched—no, noticed you and the driver having a conversation about this place. You told him it was only for those who have the luxury of excess money. Well, I have it in excess, so here we are."

Andrew's mind blanked. "I can't believe you remembered that."

Sir Allen replied with his signature grunt and started on his meal. "And I cannot believe you cried during the movie."

Photo 4: A blurry photo of Andrew store flashing a huge grin to the camera while inside a liquor store. His eyes squished like two crescent moons from the broadness of his smile as he slid a bottle of tequila inside his pants.

Andrew stared, from afar, the liquor store wedged between a café and a salon. It's bright display of rows and rows of liquors sparkled in the orange light of the setting sun. He licked his dry lips, and said, "Dare me to steal a bottle of tequila. Quick. Dare me."

"What? No," replied Sir Allen, appalled. "I will not dare you to do an act of crime, Andrew. We are only pretending to be college students."

Andrew ignored him and went anyway. That left an alarmed Sir Allen following him. The liquor store had no employees inside. Counter was empty, no guards, no nothing, except for racks of beautiful alcohol. Perfect.

"Andrew," Sir Allen hissed under his breath. "I order you to stop immediately."

"Shut up and get your phone ready." Andrew eyed the bottle of rose tequila.

"Did you just tell me to shut up."

"Now!"

The panic caused unstableness in Sir Allen's hand. Which Andrew teased him about later.

Photo 5: Sir Allen & Andrew in bed together with their bare shoulders peeking from under the duvet. Sir Allen's tattoo clear on the photo. And Andrew's black collar.

"Stop staring," said Sir Allen as he undressed from his uniform. His hair was purposely styled to look like it was held from behind while during hot passionate sex. A faint blush painted Sir Allen's face. "Can you please stop narrating?"

"Sorry, didn't realize I said that outloud." Andrew was shirtless under the hotel duvet. His hair also mussed to perfection and he sported fake sheen of sweat on his shoulders. "Who knew you've been hiding a bomb body? You're going to do well in porn. Oh, don't forget to use the spray bottle." He kept his gaze tracked to his Boss who revealed his torso, one button at a time. Being the devil's incarnate does a body good.

"Can you spray my back?" The bed dipped under Sir Allen weight; he turned his back to Andrew. Andrew slammed his hand on sir Allen's bare back and spread the water droplets all over. His protests earned a peal of laughter from Andrew. But he got caught off guard as Sir Allen grabbed both his wrists and slammed Andrew on the bed beneath him. Andrew's lip curled into a smirk.

"What? Not allergic to human contact anymore?"

Sir Allen rolled his eyes. "I am not allergic to human contact." After a beat, it looked like Sir Allen realized how compromising their position was. He withdrew back and cleared his throat. Poor guy must be touch starved.

"Let's just take the photo," said Sir Allen as they covered themselves with the duvet. Andrew scooched closer to Sir Allen and smiled at him, which the man ignored as he rustled up his phone. While the man wasn't looking, Andrew also rustled up a black leather collar with a silver ring sewn into it. He wore it on his neck and snuggled his face on Sir Allen's shoulder. He ignored Sir Allen's flinch. Andrew swiped the phone from Sir Allen's clammy palms.

"What's the collar for?" inquired Sir Allen, all innocent and pure.

"Hurry up and just smile for the camera. We have to catch that Mexican restaurant before it closes."

"Smile!"