Chapter Text
"You want to… hypnotize me?" Larry mumbled, though it was more of a statement than a question. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap, the traitorous things trembling just enough to reveal his nerves, despite his best attempts at keeping up his unreadable poker face. He was making a concerted effort to keep his breathing slow and even.
Brassius and Hassel nodded, almost in unison. They sat on either side of Larry, close enough to feel the warmth of his body but with a few conscious inches of space slipped in, not wanting to crowd him physically or mentally.
"Precisely!" Hassel said, his eyes briefly glancing down to Larry's white-knuckle grip on himself. He visibly relaxed his shoulders, the expression on his face softening. "That is, rather, we would want to, provided that you are willing to participate!"
Brassius cut in, a thin, bony hand finding its way to Larry's thigh and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Note the key word: willing. If your heart holds even a shred of fear or discomfort, you must simply say the word and we will never bring up the subject again," he declared, gray eyes staring into Larry's own, open and honest.
The subject, although it was not one that the three had broached before, wasn't completely out of character for them. Brassius and Hassel each had roughly thirty years under their belts of attending various BDSM parties and events, and their experience was always obvious in any activities the three partook in.
Larry, on the other hand, almost felt like an accidental visitor to an alien world. The two of them had such extensive knowledge on what was essentially a brand new and unexplored world to him, talking easily and casually about things that Larry had never even heard of until he started dating the artists.
If Larry was being honest with himself, it was.. intimidating, at first. He wasn't anything close to a blushing, inexperienced virgin, but the two of them had a way of almost making him feel like he was, even at the ripe age of fifty two. Still, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. His time with the other men was always something he treasured. They always did their best to check in on him frequently, made sure he was comfortable, made sure he wasn't in pain, almost to the point that it made him wonder if they were even having any fun. Surely it had to feel more like babysitting at that point, he reasoned.
("Of course we're enjoying ourselves, dear," the memory of Brassius purred in his ear, breath hot against his skin. "Do you have any idea how good you look when you're falling apart in our hands?")
Unconsciously, he bit his lip at the memory, his cheeks garnering a faint dusting of pink.
"...Why?" he questioned, keeping his voice even. It wasn't quite the question he'd meant to ask, but it was something that had been tickling the back of his mind since they'd begun their conversation.
Hassel's brow furrowed, a gentle smile blooming on his face. "Larry, sweetheart," he began, slowly raising a hand to cup the other man's cheek. He idly traced his jaw with a thumb in small circles, doing absolutely nothing to help Larry's slight flush go away. "You are the most tired, overworked man I have ever encountered in my life. You work, and you work, and when you're finally done, you work even more! " he continued, almost sounding exasperated. His golden eyes narrowed as his voice dipped with a slight sadness, "Dear, we've been with you for well over a year now, and I don't believe I have ever seen you truly relax."
His hand moved up to gently rub the spot between Larry's eyebrows, which were, of course, knotted in thought. "Even now, you're so tense. We worry about you, Larry," he finished weakly, tears beginning to well up in his eyes as he pulled his hand away.
Larry almost found himself leaning forward to chase after the touch once it had gone, but he caught himself just in time, something within him keeping him stuck in place. There was a viciously stubborn thing inside of him, a part of him that refused to let him simply indulge. The only thing he ever let himself enjoy to its fullest were the meals he usually had when he traveled for work. That was all he needed, he thought. That was enough for him.
That should've been enough.
Coming back to himself, he blinked slowly, feeling his pulse thrumming in his eardrums.
Maybe that was exactly what they'd meant.
It was now Brassius' turn, it seemed, as he spoke up next.
"We just thought that this might be the perfect way to help you, starling. You're taut and fraying, like an overburdened rope on the verge of snapping." He ran a hand down Larry's arm, petting it soothingly.
Their pleading eyes, their gentle, warm voices.. It was almost too much for Larry to bear. He could feel his resolve weakening.
"What would this.. entail?" he asked, an uncharacteristic shyness in his voice. Truthfully, he wasn't quite sure what they wanted out of this or how it actually worked. It might relax him, yes, but.. how? How did it work? It wouldn't be anything like a Pokemon's hypnosis, he was sure. That just put you to sleep for a while, as he knew from experience. He just couldn't grasp what was supposed to happen, and why they were so sure it would help him.
Hassel brightened at the question, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
"Well, initially we would need to spend some time to help ease you into a trance, especially since it would be your first time. It may be.. difficult at first, to let yourself relax in such a way, but Brassie and I would be right there, guiding you every step of the way."
Brassius nodded emphatically, smiling and leaning in. "If you want it to remain strictly about rest and relaxation, we can make it so. But if you wanted a bit of… extra relief, shall we say, then that is also an option."
"Provided that you would be comfortable with such a thing!" Hassel interjected, his suddenness earning an amused chuff from Brassius and a near-chuckle from Larry.
His tense grip on himself had begun to ease as their conversation went on, Hassel and Brassius taking their time to go more into detail with how scenarios like this typically went. It gradually started to morph from something inconceivable and daunting into something that sounded.. remarkably more tame than he'd expected. Truthfully, it almost sounded therapeutic. It was enough to pique his interest more than he thought it would, but he still couldn't completely relax the strange coil of anxiety twisted up inside of him.
He couldn't help but let his mind wander. What would it feel like? To just.. give up control? To be blank and obedient, following their every command? To surrender himself completely, as moldable and pliant as the clay Brassius kept in his studio..
Well, an unwelcome voice at the back of his mind whispered sardonically, that's essentially what you've been doing for twenty five years.
He fought the urge to slap a hand to his forehead, figuring it would just worry the other two even more.
"...I'll think about it," he finally spoke, his tone unreadable.
Hassel and Brassius exchanged a look – a mixture of excitement and worry, unsure how to take his answer.
"Of course, of course!" Hassel told him, giving him a few careful pats on the back. "Take as much time as you need, dear. There is no deadline, after all!" he assured, giving Larry a warm smile.
Brassius nodded. "We'll wait as long as we need to." He leaned in close to give Larry a chaste kiss on the cheek, making the man's face heat up again. He then focused in on Larry's face with a slightly more serious expression. "We absolutely adore you, you know. Never let yourself doubt this."
Hassel mimicked the action by pressing a kiss to the man's other cheek, though he was unable to keep a crooked grin off of his face. "We.. We love you so much, dear.. W-we just.." He paused, taking a shaky breath in. The other two watched him, already knowing what was coming next.
"WE LUB YOU SOOOO MUCH!" Hassel wailed, the dam finally breaking as tears poured down his cheeks.
Reacting instantly, the other two men were quick to console him, their gentle words and soft petting filling the room and easing their partner's cries. Their discussion finally ended with an impromptu cuddle session on the couch, the three men draped over each other in a way their muscles would surely regret later.
Hassel and Brassius had dozed off rather quickly, but Larry remained awake under them, idly playing with strands of the blonde man's hair as he ruminated.
Yeah, he was going to have to put some serious thought into this.
After a week of radio silence from Larry regarding the topic – which the two of them handled very well, all things considered – they suddenly got their answer.
It was a Friday evening, and the sun had already set as Larry stepped into their home. His neutral expression seemed strained at the edges, the bags under his eyes more prominent than usual. He dropped his suitcase at the door, the loud thud startling Hassel and Brassius from where they stood in the kitchen.
"Welcome home, dear!" Hassel called, turning to greet him. He froze in his tracks, though, when he noticed Larry's disgruntled appearance. His expression fell, and he set down the utensils he'd been readying for the dinner table.
"Are you alright?" Brassius asked before the other man had the chance to, their worry plain on both of their faces.
Larry didn't answer, instead opting to kick his shoes off near their shoe rack, not even bothering to put them away properly for once. Alarm bells were going off in both of their heads as they watched him, perplexed. This was so completely unlike him that they weren't sure how to process this small series of events.
He slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket, throwing it carelessly onto the nearby couch. His tie followed soon after, and he turned to look at his partners.
They stood next to each other, watching him with uncertainty.
"Lar-" one of them tried saying, but was swiftly interrupted by a strange response.
"I'll do it," Larry suddenly stated, his voice firm but tinged with exhaustion. He stared at them, his gaze unwavering, as they tried to process what he meant.
"...What?" Brassius asked, now completely and thoroughly perplexed. He picked his brain for what Larry could possibly be talking about, but nothing was ringing any bells. Hassel seemed to be doing the same, eyes narrowed in thought as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.
Larry only continued to stare, expression unchanging.
"I'll let you hypnotize me," he said plainly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He could feel the nervousness inside him start to wind up again, but he stood firm. He was tired. He was frustrated. Thoughts whirled in his mind like a hurricane, and the noise was driving him insane.
He'd had enough thinking for one day, he decided.
It wasn't an impulsive decision, really. It may have seemed that way to the other two, but Larry knew better. He'd been rolling the idea around in his mind almost every waking moment since their initial discussion. He thought about it in the shower. He thought about it in their bed. He thought about it while they had sex. He thought about it at work , which was the part that kept nagging at the back of his mind.
Part of him was afraid, he knew. Afraid of being laid bare, of being humiliated, vulnerable. Afraid of letting himself be completely at someone else's mercy. Letting someone tower over him like a god, following their every order.
He barely managed to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine at that train of thought, flattening his mouth into a thin line.
He had to know. He had to feel it.
Brassius and Hassel watched him, not nearly as confused as they were initially, but still very obviously worried about their partner.
"Oh, honey, that's wonderful! But.." Hassel began gently, voice soft and careful. He was glad that Larry was showing interest, of course, but the man just seemed so.. off.
"Maybe after dinner, hm?" Brassius suggested, putting a hand on Hassel's shoulder. "You should see what Hass has whipped up for us tonight, love. Come sit down with us and unwind a bit."
Larry gave a small nod, relaxing slightly. His mind slowed down a bit, finally halting long enough for him to take in the wonderful scent of whatever it was that they'd cooked. It was warm and savory, and his stomach immediately growled with indignance, fed up with his stalling.
"Alright," he acquiesced, making his way over to the two and stopping just in front of them.
For some reason, he found himself struggling to meet their gazes, but he steeled himself enough to say, "Thank you. Both of you."
To anyone else, his voice and expression would seem to be exactly the same as they always are, hardly ever changing except under extreme circumstances. (And even then, if you asked most people, it wasn't much different.) But to his partners, the loves of his life, they noticed all the little things that everybody else seemed to miss. The way his brows relaxed slightly, the slope of his shoulders, the ghost of a smile as it tugged at the corners of his lips.
They beamed at him, bringing him into their arms and nuzzling either side of his face, peppering him with kisses and sweet nothings as he sputtered, trying and failing to hold back a small laugh.