Rowan’s eyebrows knit together, but he can still feel the heat in his own eyes. “Good?”

“Wanted to see if you’d fight for me. Fuck off, Shirley Temple.”

The man turns and all but runs out of the room.

“A fuckin’ test?”

“And you passed with flyin’ colors.”

It’s not the best way to start off any kind of a relationship, sexual or otherwise. And Rowan could be mad about it—he probably should be—but he finds that he really doesn’t want to be.

“Pretty shit test,” he muses instead, feeling the surge of angry heat dissipate. “You wanted to really test me, shoulda picked that guy who looked like Dwayne Johnson or someone I couldn’t fight in my sleep.”

Malcolm laughs, a short, clipped thing that sounds like he doesn’t do it very often, and Rowan instantly wants to hear it again.

“So, Rowan, you lookin’ for a sub?”

And that’s the thing.

Until a few hours ago, he wasn’t. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind as a possibility. He was only looking for a way to blow off some steam, feel good about himself while he was feeling good. But now that Malcolm has brought it up as a possibility, a for-real possibility and not a fantasy rattling around in Rowan’s brain, the idea of this being a regular thing between them is utterly tantalizing.

But if they’re going to do this, he should be honest with him. Rowan’s never been a true Dom in his life. He’s always taken the lead in his sexual relationships, both long-term and one-night stands, and he’s had kinky sex more often than vanilla in all of those. But a casual, purely sexual relationship with a stranger entirely about satisfying specific needs?

That’s new. That’s different.

And he wants it, but only if Malcolm is okay with Rowan being fairly new to the game.

He’s apparently been silent for too long, having been lost in his thoughts.

“Well? Yes or no, tough guy?”

“I’ve uh… never really done it in an official capacity before.”

Malcolm laughs and rubs a hand across his mouth. “Ain’t like you need a license to rail me, man.”

Rowan feels his cheeks flame but manages to hold on to a scrap of dignity and roll his eyes for good measure. “No shit. I just meant most of this is new to me, at least outside of relationships and hookups. Y’know, in case you wanted someone more experienced.”

Malcolm curls his lips under his teeth. Looks at Rowan like he’s sizing him up. He takes a slow, steady breath, and Rowan’s worried he’s going to tell him to fuck off after his admission. But instead, he surprises him, speaking earnestly.