Chapter 154: Bound Together

Milo froze halfway across the room, the rope pulling taut as Roderick, standing a step behind him, didn’t budge.

Roderick sighed heavily, rubbing a hand down his face. He knew exactly how Salvatore got when it came to Milo, jealous in ways the man would never openly admit.

"Well, it’s not me," he said. "Ask him why he needs to follow me around."

Milo glanced down at the rope, scrambling for something that sounded reasonable without revealing the truth behind it.

"Uh... I need to keep this rope on him, sir. And I can’t release it for many days."

"Why?" Salvatore demanded. "That woman told you? Why didn’t you tell me? And why does it have to be him? Why not me? You can put it on me."

Milo swallowed hard. It was never supposed to be Salvatore. The whole point was protecting Roderick, not him.

But he needed something that made sense out loud. "Sir, you’re always busy. And Roderick said he has a lot of free time now because you forbade him from working. I thought it was just ideal to ask for his help."

"I don’t like it," Salvatore said, crossing his arms. "I can stay home for you if that’s the case. It’s not a problem for me."

Milo dropped his gaze, doing his best impression of guilt, which admittedly wasn’t difficult given how much of it he actually felt. "I’m really sorry. I didn’t know about that. But I’ve already put the rope on Roderick. I can’t remove it, or we’ll both die."

The lie slipped out easily enough, and something in his chest ached at how naturally it came.

Salvatore studied him, clearly unhappy, something like betrayal flickering behind his eyes. He took a slow breath. "Tell me. Why is it like this? What is it for?"

"Actually, Nian said I can’t tell anyone anything, or it will harm me," Milo said. "But if you insist, I’ll tell you."

Salvatore considered that for a long moment. He knew Milo well enough by now to trust that he would never lie to him about something that mattered... and the last thing on earth he wanted was to put Milo in harm’s way over his own jealousy.

Finally, he exhaled. "I don’t like you hiding things from me. But if it’s for your safety, then I can’t say anything. Just make sure to tell me if you’re in danger."

Milo nodded quickly, relief flooding through him.

"Damn," Roderick muttered, glancing down at the rope binding his wrist. "Seriously, I’m going to be trapped with you for the rest of my life?"

Milo looked at him and smiled, guilt and affection tangled together. Roderick had no idea he was the reason for any of this.

"Please, sir, you can enjoy your last bit of freedom. I won’t disturb you."

"What?" Roderick said. "Even when I go to the bathroom, you need to follow me."

"Oh... I’m really sorry," Milo said, wincing.

Salvatore, meanwhile, had already wandered toward the bathroom door, peering inside with narrowed eyes.

"What is it, Sal?" Roderick said warily. "Don’t tell me you’re staying here too."

The bathroom was spacious, but Milo would still have to stand inside with him the entire time.

Salvatore didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. "What’s the problem? I’ve seen your body. I’ll make sure this boy doesn’t enjoy you too much."

Milo’s face turned red. "I’m not that much of a pervert!"

"Look at how hard it’ll be for you to resist," Salvatore teased, glancing pointedly at Roderick, who was still fully dressed and radiating pure exhaustion.

"Unbelievable," Roderick muttered. "How long am I going to suffer?"

"I’m really sorry," Milo said again, though the corner of his mouth had started twitching upward despite himself.

"Don’t make a drama out of it," Salvatore said. "Just do your business."

Roderick stared at both of them like he genuinely could not believe this was his life now. "How can I do my business if both of you are standing here looking at me?"

"No, no," Salvatore said, already stepping in and pulling Milo against his chest, angling them both toward the opposite wall. "We won’t look at you."

Milo smiled against Salvatore’s chest, thoroughly enjoying himself now despite the circumstances.

Roderick huffed and turned toward the toilet, only to freeze mid-motion.

"Okay," he announced flatly. "Now I can’t take off my clothes."

Salvatore glanced over his shoulder at him. Milo peeked too.

"You have a choice," Salvatore said. "Keep your shirt on for many days, or take it off and go topless for many days."

"What? I need to shower."

"So it’s okay to stay topless," Salvatore said. "You won’t be going anywhere anyway."

"Sal. Does this sound normal to you?"

"None of this is normal," Salvatore said simply. "But for Milo’s sake, I won’t let you remove the rope."

Roderick groaned, long and pained, and in the end resorted to simply cutting his shirt off with a pair of scissors, muttering the entire time about dignity and how he had never signed up for any of this.

Relieving himself with one arm anchored awkwardly toward Milo proved to be its own small comedy of contorted angles and muttered curses.

Milo stared resolutely at the tile grout the entire time while Salvatore fought visibly not to laugh.

Then came the shower.

The stall had a glass door, thin enough that the rope could slip through the gap at the hinge, but Salvatore still planted himself just outside it, arms crossed, with Milo tucked against his side.

Roderick did his best to ignore them both, letting the water run over his shoulders, trying to pretend this was simply routine now.

He’d adapted to worse things in his life. He told himself this counted as merely unusual.

Milo, despite his best efforts, found his eyes drifting... Roderick was, undeniably, well-built, years of training plainly carved into his shoulders and chest.

But it wasn’t attraction pulling Milo’s focus. It was the number.

Fifteen. The same count he’d carried in his mind since the night he’d first seen it.

Except now, it flickered.

Milo’s breath caught. He stared harder, willing it to steady, but it wavered again, shimmering at the edges like a candle flame caught in a draft.

What did that mean? Was Roderick in more danger now? Or was it the rope? Was it actually working?

"You look at him like you’re going to eat him," Salvatore murmured near his ear, amusement thick in his voice.

Milo blinked, snapping back to himself, heat rushing to his face. "Sir, please stop."

"What if I don’t stop?" Salvatore said, leaning closer, his voice dropping low. "What are you going to do?"

Milo’s cheeks burned even brighter as Salvatore’s face inched nearer.

"Ahem," Roderick called loudly from inside the shower, one hand braced awkwardly against the tile since the other remained tethered toward them.

"I’ll remind you that you’re not alone here."

Salvatore only smiled, entirely unbothered, and pressed a slow kiss to Milo’s lips anyway. "I can’t hold back for many days. You can look at whatever you want."

Milo swallowed hard, a fresh wave of nerves rising. If Salvatore truly couldn’t hold back for however many days this arrangement lasted, that meant Roderick would be present for things Milo very much did not want him present for.

Like in the dark room. No way...

"Sir..." Milo started.

"Hm?" Salvatore tilted his head, all false innocence. "What is it? More kisses?"

Roderick turned the shower to a higher pressure, clearly trying to drown out the sound of whatever was happening, muttering something under his breath about washing away every sin these two were committing against his sanity.

"Can you please get my underwear?" Roderick called out finally, resigned.

"Why?" Salvatore said. "Can’t you walk out yourself?"

"I don’t like dragging my wet body outside the bathroom. Come on."

Salvatore sighed dramatically. "You have to pay me for this."

He rifled through Roderick’s suitcase, tossing a pair of underwear and pajama pants toward the shower door, though in the end Roderick only managed to put on the trousers and underwear, the shirt proving impossible with one arm still tied fast to Milo.

"Uh... now I need to shower," Milo said once Roderick had finally managed to get dressed.

"You need my help?" Salvatore asked, entirely too pleased with himself.

"No," Milo said quickly. "But can you not look at me?" he said to Roderick.

"Trust me," Roderick said dryly from where he sat on the closed toilet lid, dripping and defeated, "I don’t really feel tempted to look at you."

Milo, in the end, had to sacrifice his own shirt to the scissors as well, with Salvatore assisting far too enthusiastically.

By the time all three of them finally stumbled out of the bathroom, Roderick looked like a man who had aged several years in the span of one evening.

He grabbed his suitcase immediately. "I think I’d better go to my room. This sofa sucks. I don’t like it."

"No," Salvatore said. "As I told you, you have to stay with me. I don’t want you too far away."

"We’re in the same hotel," Roderick pointed out.

"Nope. You’ll sleep in the same room as me." Salvatore’s eyes flicked toward Milo, then back. "Anyway, since Milo has to stay with you all the time, I won’t let the two of you sleep together alone."

"So what?"

"Sleep here."

Roderick let out a long, weary sigh and dragged himself toward the large bed, accepting his fate.

All through the night, Salvatore kept Milo curled firmly against his side, one arm draped possessively over him, making absolutely certain the rope’s slack never let Milo drift too close to Roderick’s side of the mattress.

Roderick, lying stiffly on his back, stared up at the ceiling in the dark, the rope taut against his wrist every time Salvatore shifted possessively closer to Milo.

"What was my sin," Roderick muttered to the ceiling, "to deserve all of this?"