Chapter Text
They say money makes you do strange things. Curt didn’t realize how true that was until now.
His boyfriend- ex boyfriend, Curt chided himself internally- had left him high and dry and unable to pay the rent on his own, leaving Curt to resort to Craigslist as a way to try and find quick cash.
Then he found the perfect gig.
A business man needed a fake date for an office party. Preferably male, mid to late twenties, with acting experience.
So Curt emailed O. Carvour, and now here he was, sitting at the local McDonald’s nursing a one dollar soda and waiting to see if he’d show.
Eventually, a tall and very handsome man entered the restaurant, neck craning around as if he were looking for someone. Tentatively, Curt held up his hand in greeting. Lord, please let this man be O. Carvour, please let this man be O. Carvour, please-
“Are you C. Mega?” The handsome stranger asked, standing just by the table.
Curt stood quickly, practically stumbling out of his chair in his haste to get to his feet. “Yeah- uh, yes, I am. You’re O. Carvour?”
“You can call me Owen.” Owen shook Curt’s hand before taking a seat across from him.
“Curt. Uh, that’s what the C stands for.” Curt was fumbling over his words like a high schooler, and it was honestly embarrassing. He needed to pull it together.
Owen seemed to at least have the decency to ignore his awkwardness. “I have to say, I’m surprised someone actually responded to my ad. I wasn’t expecting it.”
Curt shrugged. “I need to make rent, and it was either this or the guy who needed his trucks washed.”
Owen let out an amused huff of air. “Right. Well, I want to tell you right now that this might end up being a long term thing if it goes well. My company has a lot of events, and I’m getting rather tired of people busting my arse about not having a date.”
Curt nodded in understanding. Fucking score. “We have to hash out the details first, though, right? Like, what’s our backstory? How long have we been together, how’d we meet, stuff like that.”
Owen pulled a notepad out from his back pocket- and who carried notepads around anymore?- and flipped it open. “Let’s hash this out, then.”