Before Stu knew it, the first part of the concert was over. The Elvis impersonator bowed as his audience applauded, none more loudly than Stu.

"I'll be back with more after a short break," the man said before leaving the stage.

Stu picked up his beer to take a sip but discovered his glass was empty. He stood and turned towards the bar. He winced when he saw a queue had already formed. Stu joined the queue but when his bladder started sending him increasingly urgent messages, he left the queue in search of the gents.

Thankfully a couple of urinals were free and Stu chose the one at the end. He'd just unzipped and was fishing out his dick when someone moved into the one remaining free urinal immediately to his right. Stu heard the man grunt, this was followed by a strange creaking, then the sound of a zip being lowered.

"Howdy," the newcomer said.

Stu quickly glanced to his right. It was the Elvis impersonator! He seemed broader, bigger, beefier up close than he had on stage. And the size of the man's cock. Fuck! His gaze snapped back to the tiled wall in front of him. It didn't do to be caught staring at other men at the urinals.

Then he remembered the man had spoken and Stu had to say something back. But what? He was uncomfortable holding conversations in such intimate spaces. "Enjoying the show," he said. Then he realised the guy might have misunderstood. He may have thought Stu was talking about looking at the bloke's dick which, okay, Stu had looked but ... Thinking quickly, Stu added, "Uh, I mean, I was enjoying the show you put on ... on stage I mean." Stu felt his face heat.

The man chuckled. "Thanks, buddy. Glad y'all enjoyed it."

Despite his mortification at his clumsy attempts at polite bathroom conversation, Stu was surprised the guy was still talking in an American accent. Then he remembered reading something about how when the British actor Hugh Laurie was filming House, he maintained his American accent throughout the work day. "You got the Southern drawl down pretty well."

The man chuckled again and began to zip himself up. "Thanks. But Elvis was born in Tupelo, Mississippi. I was raised in a small Podunk town in East Texas that no one's ever heard of. So the accent's different.

"Oh." He resisted the urge to sigh in relief when his stream finally began.

Elvis hung around while Stu finished peeing, put himself away, and zipped up. They walked to the sinks together and washed then dried their hands.

Elvis then held his right hand out to Stu. "Name's Garrett, although most folks call me Spider." At Stu's look of confusion, the man continued, "My last name's Webb."

"Ah." Stu smiled and took the man's hand. It was a firm but not crushing shake. Then realising Spider was waiting for Stu to introduce himself, he said, "Stu, but most people call me Mouse."

Spider took in Stu's thin frame.

Stu smiled and nodded. "My height, or lack of, is one reason, yes. My name's the other."

It was Spider's turn to look confused.

"Stuart Little." Stu started counting in his head. One, two, three ...

Spider let out a bark of laughter that echoed off the tiles. "Sorry, buddy."

Stu waved off the apology. He'd gone through this many times before and was used to it. "It's okay. Movie came out a few months after I was born, so my parents weren't being deliberately cruel or cute or anything."

"Ah." Spider nodded and the two men exited the gents, Spider holding the door open for Stu.

Although Stu's gaydar wasn't one hundred percent accurate -- there'd been that unfortunate incident with the plumber that still made Stu blush -- he was reasonably sure Spider was family.