Page 111 of The Menagerie

“We’ll start with the single-column tie, which is one of the most useful, in my humble opinion.”

Next to him, Mal laughs like it’s an old inside joke of theirs—a low snort of a sound in the back of his throat—and it makes Rowan’s insides twist more than the rope in his hands.

“Start by folding your practice rope in half,” she says, quickly folding the short rope and finding the center of the strands, adjusting the tails to the same length. “This is your baseline for the majority of ties for its security, aesthetic, and safety.”

Rory holds one arm out, and Camilla wraps the rope twice around his wrist. “The loop—which is called the bight, as I mentioned earlier—should be facing one direction, while the tail faces the opposite. Cross the bight over your strands, then make a loop with the tail, keeping the bight on top of everything.”

She slips two slim fingers under the strands and tugs slightly. “There should always be at least one finger of space between the rope and your partner’s skin, but two is preferable in many cases. Unless you have big hands,” she says with a wink.

Rowan’s eyes flick to Mal, who merely waggles his eyebrows at him.

Got big hands, man.

He’s not going to survive this fucking class, and it’s barely begun.

Camilla continues her explanation, blissfully unaware of Rowan’s heart palpitating. “Pull the bight under all the strands and through the loop. You always want topullyour rope through openings rather than pushing it. If you push, the rope could uncoil or your strands could shift. Finally, hold the bight in place and pull the tail until the knot is tight.”

Seems easy enough, Rowan thinks. He’s fairly sure he’s done this in Boy Scouts, even if the terms used were a little different. There’s a shuffling around the room and the light patter of rope ends trailing over the floor as the couples follow Camilla’s display. A helpful diagram is posted on the screen behind her, showing stills of each of the steps.

Without prompting, Mal holds one wrist out in front of Rowan. For some reason, the gesture—so easy and done seemingly without a second thought—has Rowan’s pulse quickening. This is all about trust. MaltrustsRowan to not hurt him, to let him learn and probably fumble through some shit, all to make their scenes more fulfilling.

It’s… a lot to take in. Especially with how fragile their relationship had seemed less than a week ago.

Mal’s skin is warm as Rowan wraps the rope around his arm, covering the skull and crossbones tattoo. Rowan’s hands work on their own, and in a few seconds, there’s a pretty damn perfect knot sitting snugly around Mal’s wrist. He turns Mal’s hand over, his thumb grazing Mal’s knuckles and making theUandGof his THUG LIFE tattoo disappear for a breath as he sweeps across them. The gasp he nearly lets out at the electricity that zaps through him is suppressed only by the weight of Mal’s eyes on him. He distracts himself and checks the tightness, able to fit a single finger underneath.

“That okay?” he asks to be sure.

“Yeah. Figured you’d catch on fast, Boy Scout.”

“Questions on that?” Camilla asks aloud. “Great. Go ahead and practice that a few more times until you’re comfortable with it.”

Rowan tugs the bight, and the knot easily unravels as intended. His second tie is both faster and neater than the first. Mal tugs his arm while Rowan holds on to the tail, the rope pulling taut in Rowan’s hands and halting Mal’s movements.

“You must really hate this if you’re already tryin’ to get away from me,” Rowan jokes.

“Couldn’t get away from you if I tried.”

The statement hits like a shot of cocaine straight to Rowan’s brain. For a second, he debates his reply. Cocky? Sincere? Flippant? What the hell does hesayto that?

“Don’t blame yourself. I’m irresistible.”

A hum in the back of Mal’s throat is the only response he gives before he tugs on the bight himself and frees his arm, then hands the rope back to Rowan. His skin is already starting to redden with the indentations of the rope, and a surge of longing to see more of them rushes through Rowan.

They practice a few more knots that Camilla says they’ll need to be familiar with later on—bowlines, X-frictions, square frictions, and half hitches. For some of them, Mal holds the rope taut in between his hands while Rowan makes his ties in the air, the only way to simulate the actual positioning of the rope without incorporating it into a rig. A thrill tingles down his back at how naturally it comes to him and how Mal’s spent the first forty minutes not really getting anything out of it other than watching Rowan practice with a soft smile on his face and the occasional pointer correcting Rowan’s technique.

When Camilla comes around to survey all the couples and their progress, she stops by their table with a proud-looking smile.

“Guess I don’t need to help you two, huh?”

Rowan finishes off a double column tie as she says it, pulling the rope taut. “Think we’re pretty good. Malcolm’s a good teacher,” Rowan tells her, Mal’s full name never losing the feeling of strangeness on his tongue.

“Don’t be stealing my thunder, mister!” Camilla jokes, pointing a finger accusingly at Mal.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Cam. Much prefer being on this end’a things, anyway.”

“I can see why,” she says, eyeing Rowan’s hands as he undoes the knot.

Her ability to make Rowan both want to preen and shrivel is also something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to.

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