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Your tie’s made of tough material, Alfredo laughs as Bell pulls lightly on his bonds. He won’t lie; his stomach had fluttered and palms sweat as Alfredo had knotted his tie around his wrists, tying them together and to their headboard. You trust me, don’t you?, Alfredo had asked with purposeful subtlety as he stripped off Bell’s tie. Whose side are you on anyways?, Alfredo had asked in the same tone months earlier, before Alfredo’s arrest, before he quit the force, after he’d taken one look at Alfredo and written him off as a thug. Yes, Bell breathes, eyes fluttering shut as Alfredo runs his hands over his chest and his lips over his neck.