Free Little Square of Cloth by Sean Michael Page A

on the small of his back, guiding him toward a booth near the back. So much for running.
    “You looked like you could use a rescue,” the guy murmured as soon as they were out of earshot of the bar.
    Oh. Oh, cool. “Yeah. Sorry. My friend brought me and dumped me here. Thanks for the save.”
    “Honestly?” The guy shot him a look. “So you don’t even know about the hankie?”
    “The what?”
    The guy reached behind Peter, into his back right pocket. He could feel something sliding, and then a black hankie was handed to him.
    “Oh.” Oh, God. He’d sort of read about this,kinda. He was more into reading about stuff where people were already together, already into it. “That’s not mine.”
    “That’s why you were pounced the minute you sidled up to the bar, boy. Means you’re a heavy duty bottom, ready for anything.”
    “Ready for anything...” Oh. Oh, no. “Girard... He... That was...” Girard was supposed to be his friend, damn it.
    “Pretty damn irresponsible, actually.” The guy nodded at the booth they’d stopped in front of. “Have a seat, and I’ll buy you a beer. That should convince people that you’re actually not available.”
    “I’m sorry.” He wanted to sink into the floor.
    The guy chuckled. “Looks like this Girard thought you needed to be shaken up. Are you even a bottom?”
    “I-- It was a bad idea. He saw the websites I was visiting and thought I should meet ‘a real person’. I... I’m obviously out of my league, like whoa.” Like super whoa, if he was honest.
    One hand slid over his own, squeezed. “You’re fine. If you’d worn a white hankie, it would have meant you were a virgin, and people would have been more... seductive. Wooing.”
    Peter had never been so mortified. Never. Not even when his mom had had the ‘if you have wet dreams, wash your sheets’ talk.
    A hand was held out to him. “I’m Rupert. You can call me Master Rue or Sir.”
    “Peter. Peter Malone.” He wiped his wet palm on his jeans and shook. “I’m really sorry about this whole thing.” He felt like such an idiot. No, like a stupid loser.
    “I’m not.” Rupert gave him a warm smile. “I’m pleased to meet you. Honestly.”
    “Thank you.” That actually made him feel slightly less loser-ish. “You’re being super nice to the biggest dork on the planet.”
    “Maybe big dorks are my thing.”
    Okay, that sounded dirty, especially in Rupert’s deep, gravelly voice.
    Still, Peter smiled at Rupert, pleased as punch.
    Rupert looked away long enough to signal toward the bar. “So you’re interested in the lifestyle, but weren’t ready to be thrust into it unprepared?”
    “I...I’ve been on chat rooms, a lot,” he admitted.
    “And what are you looking for, dear boy?”
    “I haven’t been.” Pete shook his head, dropped his gaze. “I’m in the closet. Like a lot.”
    “So you’re coming out of the regular and the kinky closet all in one night? No wonder you look freaked out.”
    “Yeah. I didn’t know... I mean,” Peter lowered his voice. “This isn’t just a gay bar, is it? This is like the chat rooms I go to.”
    “That’s right.” Their beers came, and Rupert handed over a couple bills before turning his attention back to Peter. “So, Peter, even if it wasn’t what you intended, I’m glad you’re here.”
    “I... Thank you. I’m glad you helped me.” Really glad, in fact. He’d probably been in even more trouble than he’d thought back at the bar.
    “I have to admit, I was intrigued by why you were wearing the hankie.”
    “He must have put it in when he patted my butt. I thought he was being nice.” He was going to kill Girard.
    “Maybe he thought he was being nice, too?” Rupert took his hand.
    Peter’s fingers curled, the little zing in the touch making his skin tingle.
    “And maybe you’ll let me take you home. I’d hate for you to have come out of the closet today for nothing.”
    “I...” Maybe. Maybe he would. Rupert was a stud and