Work Text:
Brassius isn’t usually a bar person, although he has to admit that this one is nice, all dark wood and low lighting, sitting at the back of a nice restaurant on the ground floor of a hotel.
He is the sort of person who values all kinds of experiences because he thinks his art can only improve with further exposure to the world around him, though, so it’s not like he can say he minds, either. It’s just not the sort of place he would choose to spend date night, if it were up to him.
There’s soft piano music playing just under the low murmur of conversation. If Brassius tilts his head this way and that, trying to bring forth muscle memory, he thinks he can pick out notes and chords. Music has never been his leaning as far as the arts go, but you learn enough things living with a musician that he can muddle his way through a conversation.
The reason for that is sitting right next to him, trying to pretend he’s not nervous as he stares into a glass of dark liquor that he’s barely touched— although from the slight trembling in his fingers, Brassius thinks that he could use that bit of liquid courage to help him out.
Of course, that might be as much anticipation as trepidation.
“Relax.” He taps the side of Hassel’s foot with his own under the bar, and Hassel almost jumps from it. He really is on edge, the poor thing. He reaches out to put a hand on Hassel's forearm and give it a soothing rub. "You have nothing to worry about."
"I think there's plenty to worry about given the situation."
"Why? This is nothing more than inviting a coworker out for drinks. If it turns out that your hunch was off, that's all that it needs to be."
Hassel nods, though Brassius can tell he's not especially convinced. Fair enough. This isn't exactly a situation in which he has a lot of experience— or confidence.
When his husband had idly told him one night while the two of them were cooking dinner together that he thought his coworker (who was also Brassius' coworker, technically, though because the gym leaders were that much more spread out compared to the Elite Four, he didn't know him nearly as well) might be interested in men, he hadn't thought anything of it. To him it had just been one of those idle curiosities Hassel had mentioned to make small talk while the two of them were discussing their days.
When Hassel had brought the subject up a second time, a week later— asking him his thoughts on the matter and whether in any of his interactions with Larry he'd ever gotten that impression— he'd been… Curious. But sometimes it could be hard to tell what was going through Hassel's head. It's why the two of them get along as well as they do, in all likelihood.
When Hassel had come home chewing his lip, Brassius had known something was wrong. Hassel has never been any good at hiding his emotions and hiding a sense of guilt and discomfort isn’t something he excels at any more than he does keeping his tears bottled up inside. Admittedly, it had made him nervous, too; what would Hass have to worry about telling him so much that it would have him acting like that?
And then he had finally managed to get the truth out of him— not even knowing that all of the truths were perfectly aligned, even the truths he didn’t even know he was supposed to be looking for— and he was surprised by…
How not surprised he was.
Sure, it’s nothing the two of them have ever talked about before, but only because he’s sure neither of them thought it would ever be something they were interested in. So when Hassel mentions it, and he doesn’t dislike the sound of it, Brassius decides that it’s worth giving it a try.
The thing that Hassel mentioned, of course, being the fact that— try as he might to ignore it, he could no longer turn a blind eye to the fact that he had a bit of a crush on Larry, and as he had taken notice of the fact that Larry didn’t seem to be straight, there was a part of him that wanted to see if he could get a direct answer from him on the subject.
He’d told Brassius this with the guilt of someone who was afraid to admit to cheating, even though he had done nothing wrong. It’s not like someone can control their own feelings, and Brassius would never begrudge him developing a crush on another person so long as he doesn’t run off and sleep with them.
Or, at the very least, run off and sleep with them without telling him first, something he’s only just now discovered is an option he’s quite okay with.
And that’s why the two of them find themselves here in this bar, in this nice hotel restaurant, waiting for Larry to join the two of them: because Hassel is dead set and determined to figure out if Larry likes men, and furthermore, if Larry is interested in him.
(Personally, Brassius thinks that Hassel isn’t dreaming big enough in regard to that, and has a few ideas of his own— but for the sake of not scaring his husband half to death when the man is already clearly exceedingly nervous about the whole affair, he keeps those ideas to himself, knowing that if everything goes the way he wants it to tonight that he’ll have plenty of time to put it into action.
Either in the future, or— if he’s especially lucky— tonight.)
“Do you think he’s going to show up?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“He’s running late, isn’t he?”
“Not by that much. And considering the man lives and breathes work, even though he hates every second of it, I imagine he’s just gotten caught up in something.”
It feels odd to be reassuring his husband that the other man he’s invited out for a date— a date that isn’t a date because they’re not yet sure if Larry is even interested in men and being asked on a date by his married coworker would probably not be the best or more accurate assessment of that, but a date that may very well become a date by the end of the evening if Brassius can play the role of impartial observer from the way he interacts with Hassel and determine one way or another if Hassel’s theory is correct.
But it doesn’t feel odd in a bad way.
It’s a completely unique experience, to him— and there’s always something thrilling about those.
He’s just about to say something else to reassure Hassel— he seems like he needs a bit more of it to be really convinced— but at just that moment, the man of the hour arrives, eliminating any need to.
Larry looks tired as he steps into the restaurant, but then, Larry always looks tired. He stands there for a moment, looking around, looking a bit lost if he’s being perfectly honest— but Brassius raises his hand so Larry can spot them from across the room, and he raises his hand in return as he walks over to them.
Next to him, Hassel tenses up. Brassius uses his other hand to put it on Hassel’s knee and rub his thigh in a comforting gesture.
“Relax, love,” he murmurs to him, low enough that Larry won’t be able to hear him, although he’s still quite a few feet away and the murmur of the people around them and the music in the background should do a good enough job of it. “If you’re nervous, it will only tell him that something is going on… Just act natural. You’re just out for drinks with a coworker.”
“Right…” Hassel doesn’t quite relax under his touch, but when he looks over at him, he does look at least a little less like he’s in the process of panicking.
Brassius isn’t even sure that Hass is up to this little plan that he’s concocting… But he is quite certain that by the end of tonight, all three of them will have learned something about themselves.
And as a teacher, he’s sure his husband will find that thought exciting.
When Hassel had asked him out for drinks, Larry had been… Surprised.
He knows that he’s not the most social person. He’s always busy, always tired. It’s not that he wants to be the ‘works all the time’ guy— he’s not one of those people who seem to find any particular pride in it— but he does find himself doing it over and over again instead of putting his foot down and just not, so what does that say about him, honestly?
Something something people in abusive relationships never want to admit that they’re in one etc etc.
He’s been with the Pokémon league for a long time now, though— as both a gym leader and a member of the Elite Four. And so it’s only natural for his coworkers to want to socialize with him, he supposes. Even if Hassel has never seemed like the type before, because he’s always rushing around between his own two jobs or spending time at home.
When he’d extended him the invitation and told him it was from him and Brassius, well, Larry wasn’t surprised, but he was— and still is— a bit curious. Why would the two of them want to invite him out together? Even if they are both his coworkers (and his friends, he supposes, though he knows Hassel better than he knows Brassius if only because the Elite Four see each other much more often than the collective gym leaders), a married couple inviting their single mutual friend out for the night just strikes him as a bit… Odd?
Not that he can put his finger on why, of course. It’s just one of those things. He’s not really the sort of person to pay much attention to his intuition, though— it has a tendency to steer him in some weird directions. So he shrugs it off and, when he gets off work (late, as usual), makes his way to the hotel bar where they’ve asked to meet him.
It’s a nice place that the two of them have picked, that’s for sure. Definitely not the sort of place Larry would have chosen. Then again, Larry is such a creature of habit that his own gym challenge revolves around the restaurant he goes to without fail almost every night, so that’s not really saying much.
As he walks in, he looks around to see if he can spot them, at which point Brassius waves him over. Larry tries to straighten up and not slouch as he walks, tries to keep his head up instead of letting it hang the way he wants to, because this is supposed to be a social outing and he doesn’t want to be the person who drags the energy down just because his energy is down.
But he is tired. There’s no changing that.
He slides into the seat on Hassel’s other side at the bar. Hassel immediately turns to look at him, and Brassius leans forward on the bar so he can peer around Hassel to see him.
“Good to see you, Larry,” Brassius greets, and Hassel echoes the sentiment. “Late getting off work?”
“I don’t know why I even bother to call it late when I don’t think I’ve gotten off work on time as far back as I can remember,” he mutters, and the two of them laugh like he’s said something funny, which he supposes he has a little bit— at least in the sense of something being funny because it’s true. He signals for the bartender and orders himself something simple— he doesn’t have the brain power tonight to figure out anything else.
Larry has never been the type to care about socializing with his coworkers, no matter how much people have always told him it’s important to ‘network’ and whatever other buzzwords are popular at the time. How do you ever expect to move up if you can’t prove you have what it takes to win friends and influence people?
Larry doesn’t want to move up. All Larry wants to do is do his job and go home— preferably on time, but he is devoted to his job in spite of it all, so late nights really are the norm.
He’s always gotten along well with Hassel, though. They’re close to the same age, unlike his two much younger female coworkers and his much scarier boss. The two of them don’t have a lot in common aside from the fact that they’re both hard workers (although Hassel seems to know the meaning of a work-life balance), but that’s always what’s made him so interesting to him, he supposes.
Hassel is bright and cheerful— just generally more emotive than him no matter what the emotion, if he’s being honest— to Larry’s exhausted sort of gloom. Hassel is creative, an artist and a musician, where Larry doesn’t have a single creative bone in his body. Talking to him is always interesting because, unlike his coworkers at his day job, Hassel’s life revolves around a lot more than just going to the office, doing his work, and going home exhausted at the end of the day— only to get up and do it all over again tomorrow.
Brassius, he doesn’t know half as well. The gym leaders don’t have nearly as many excuses to get together, given how spread out they are. He’s always been a little intimidated by the man, if he’s being perfectly honest. His passion for his art combined with his habit of pulling daredevil stunts has always seemed a little off the wall to him.
That being said, it’s not like he knows either of them that well. And in the case of most people, that’s perfectly fine by him. But when Hassel had extended the invitation to him, he had felt… Weirdly happy about it, even though he knew it would be hard to squeeze in considering his schedule.
Still, here he is. And as tired as he is and as much as he feels like the two of them might come to regret inviting him out when they realize he’s not really good at this whole socializing thing, as the three of them start talking he starts to feel a little more relaxed and a little less like he’s just going to be an awkward fifth wheel the whole night.
Eventually (and the few drinks he’s had so far have probably helped), he finds himself chatting with them and laughing as if the three of them have been friends for a long time.
For someone who never has time to do this sort of thing, Larry finds himself having a good time. It feels weirdly natural, the way that spending time with Hassel has always felt weirdly natural even though the two of them don’t have much in common. It turns out spending time with Brassius feels the same way, which is a nice thing to discover.
It’s always nice to have more friends, after all.
Eventually it gets hard for him to keep having to look around Hassel to talk to Brassius, since both of them seem more interested in talking to him than to each other— which strikes him as a bit weird since they’re literally married, but who is he to judge?
So he ends up sitting between the two of them, which does make things easier, especially as the two of them start to ask him more and more to talk about himself.
“Do you have anyone special in your life, Larry?” Brassius asks him, and just as he turns to his left to answer him he hears Hassel choke on his drink to his right. He turns to see if he’s alright, but Hassel clears his throat and gives his chest a few solid pats.
On his left, Brassius is leaning his head into his hand. He’s been drinking something that smells both strong and floral at the same time, almost to the point of being intimidating. Hassel has been sticking to something more classical like him. Brassius, it seems, is a man who likes to be a little eccentric in all things, not just in his art.
“No,” Larry replies, and it seems like a question he would usually find a little difficult to answer— personal, even— but Brassius is so nonchalant about it and he’s a few drinks in, so it comes more easily to him than he thinks it would otherwise. “I never have enough time to worry about that sort of thing. Who would even want to bother with someone like me, anyway?”
He means it more in terms of the fact that he never has time for anyone else, but he winces internally at his choice of words, because…
Well, he doesn’t really know Hassel and Brassius well enough to start airing out all of his insecurities. Not that they deserve to sit there and listen to him talk about stuff like that, anyway. Not when they’ve been nice enough to invite him out like this in the first place.
“Well, I’m sure that’s not true. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would.”
“You shouldn’t sell yourself nearly so short.”
Hearing both of them say that— one on either side of him— actually makes him feel a little bashful. It’s not like he was fishing for a compliment or anything like that. He was just honestly answering Brassius’ question.
He feels something brush against his ankle. It startles him for a moment, until he looks down and sees that it’s just Brassius’ foot brushing against his. He thinks it’s just a mistake, but Brassius is definitely noticing that he’s doing it and isn’t stopping.
It’s a little strange, but… It doesn’t feel bad, so Larry doesn’t say anything and just lets him keep doing it.
On his other side, Hassel leans in a bit closer to him until his upper arm is pressed against Larry’s shoulder. Again, he’s not used to such close contact, but it feels nice. Hassel is a big man, and warm, and when he puts an arm around his shoulders it doesn’t feel like anything strange at all.
Somehow, it feels… Right.
“You are a very handsome man, after all,” Brassius says with a hum in his voice.
“Very handsome indeed,” Hassel parrots. “And so dedicated, too.”
“Hard workers make for good partners, they say.”
“Uh… Thank you.” Larry starts turning red in the face. He’s never been a big blusher, and he would like to blame it on the drinks, but he knows better than that. It’s just that he’s also not used to being complimented quite that much, and it’s throwing him off guard.
Not in a bad way, though.
As the night continues, he finds the two of them getting closer and closer. Brassius is the more bold one between the two, but Hassel seems to follow his lead easily, and if anything he’s the touchier of the two of them.
Larry knows that what he’s thinking can’t be correct. It has to be the product of one too many drinks making his mind start to work in all sorts of crazy ways. He’s going to ask, and he’s going to look like a fool, and the two of them aren’t going to want to invite him out again like this— but maybe that’s for the best because he’s going to embarrass himself so much by just asking.
And yet he feels like he needs to ask. It’s too heavy on his mind for him not to, and maybe he’ll get lucky and they’ll dismiss it as him just being drunk, even though he doesn’t feel drunk— just pleasantly buzzed.
“Are you two… Flirting with me?”
He looks at Hassel first. Hassel blinks in surprise, and for a moment that makes him feel like he must be wrong and it really is just a weird thought from too much alcohol— but then Hassel changes to looking a bit flustered and he looks over to Brassius, which prompts Larry to look over to Brassius, who’s sitting there sipping his drink and looking absolutely unbothered.
“Why?” he asks. “Is it working?”
Larry swallows hard, and carefully considers how he wants to answer that question. Finally, he decides on,
“...Yes?”
And immediately feels like he’s walked into some kind of trap.
Larry doesn’t really know how they got from there to here.
Well, he remembers some of the intervening steps. He remembers a few more drinks and Brassius suggesting they take things back to their place. Larry might be new to this whole thing, hasn’t really had a chance to do anything like this in years, but he knows well enough to know what that means— and he surprised himself with how not only unbothered he was by the idea, but also a little eager, too.
Hassel had been maybe the most eager of the three of them, to Brassius’ amusement and Larry’s confusion. But Brassius had managed to get all three of them bundled into a taxi that took them to their shared home in Artazon— a place Larry had never been but which definitely looked like the kind of place Brassius and Hassel would live.
Not that he got to see much of it before he was ushered upstairs to the bedroom.
All of this is happening so fast, but he’s kind of glad for that. Fast doesn’t leave him much room to second guess himself. Doesn’t leave him much room to ask questions that might not need to be answered right now, like why the two of them are interested in doing this with anyone at all and why that someone is him.
He’s not going to look a gift Ponyta in the mouth, though. Not right now, at least. Questions can be asked later. Right now he has other things to focus on.
Things like the ruthless efficiency with which the married couple manage to strip him before stripping themselves. Things like the way he really wants to run his tongue all along the sharp edge of Brassius’ collarbone or the way Hassel’s chest feels big and warm against his back as he presses himself up against him from behind. Things like the words they’re murmuring to him, things he can’t even remember a few seconds later but he still basks in the sound of their voices anyway.
It’s been a long time since he’s had the chance to do something like this. Well… Not like this. He’s never done anything quite like this. But it’s been a long time since he’s ended up in bed with anyone, period. He’s not even sure he completely remembers what to do, which sounds ridiculous to him, but he keeps drawing a blank as soon as he starts to think about what the next step should be.
Thankfully it seems like Brassius and Hassel both have a pretty good idea of what to do next.
“If you want to stop, we stop,” Brassius tells him in a firm tone. Larry nods.
“If we do something you don’t like, tell us,” Hassel adds. Larry nods again.
He can’t imagine wanting to stop or the two of them doing anything that will make him feel anything less than completely overwhelmed, but he understands what they’re trying to do, and he appreciates it.
Honestly, though, he’s still having a hard time believing this is really happening. After all, it was only a few minutes ago— or at least it feels like it was only a few minutes ago, though the taxi ride to their place probably took some time that he’s missing because his head was too busy being filled with wonderful wonderful cotton at the way Hassel was kissing him, practically stealing the breath from him and making it hard for him to focus on things like time—
But either way, it hasn’t been that long since the three of them were just sitting in a restaurant, chatting, enjoying each other's company, and now all of a sudden he’s in their bed.
Not that he’s complaining. Not at all. He’s just in disbelief. Over how things have moved so fast, over how the two of them could even want to be doing something like this with him in the first place…
There’s just lots of things for him to have a hard time believing.
But it’s hard for him to think this is a dream or anything like that when it feels so real— when he can feel their hands roaming across their body, feels their hot breath on his skin, feels the two of them manoeuvring him into all kinds of positions according to their whims. He doesn’t feel like he has an ounce of control in this situation, but for him, that’s exactly how he wants things to be.
Has he ever thought about something like this? Of course not. Maybe he’s thought about Hassel in that sort of way once or twice— but that’s perfectly normal. Larry isn’t so out of touch that he isn’t aware that he’s had a bit of a crush on the man for a while now. But it’s always just been something for his mind to wander to when he’s bored or lonely, and never anything he’s seriously considered. After all, Hassel is married.
To a very open-minded partner, it would seem. Although Larry probably shouldn’t be surprised about that considering what Brassius is like in every other aspect of his life, as far as he can tell.
That very open-minded partner currently has his hands roaming Larry’s chest, looking for any points of weakness as his mouth does the same for his throat. Hassel is busying himself with Larry’s legs, and even though Larry isn’t the sort of person who would consider himself particularly appealing, the way the two of them sends a chill right up his spine— in the best possible way.
“How do you want to do this?” Hassel asks, looking up at him from where he’s doing a very good job at keeping himself busy kissing his way up one of Larry’s legs towards his knee.
“We’re flexible,” Brassius further explains.
Larry wonders if the double entendre is on purpose. More importantly, he wonders if it’s true.
“I, uh…” He clears his throat, tries to gather his thoughts so he’s not stuttering his way through a ham-fisted explanation. “I can’t say I have much experience with this, so…”
He’s not a virgin, but his experience isn’t exactly wide or varied, either. And he definitely feels a little overwhelmed by the possibilities.
“If you want us to take the lead, all you have to do is say so,” Hassel hums in the back of his throat, from where he’s between Larry’s legs, and honestly—
That’s exactly what he wants.
But since words seem like they’re going to be difficult right now between the way Brassius is nibbling on his ear and Hassel is nibbling on his thigh, he goes for an emphatic nod instead, which he hopes conveys his message just as well.
And it seems to do just the trick because Hassel and Brassius share a look around him, and all of a sudden he gets the creeping sensation that the night has truly only just begun.
If Hassel is being quite honest, he doesn’t know how they’ve gotten here, either.
Or rather, he only knows one key thing about how they’ve gotten here: It’s all Brassius’ doing.
Not that he’s going to complain, oh no. This has turned out better than he could have ever dreamed. He almost feels like it’s too good, that he’s going to blink too hard and wake up and realize it was all just a very realistic, elaborate dream.
But this isn’t a dream, and he knows that because he’s already pinched himself and it hurt.
Who would have guessed that awkwardly and tearfully confessing his crush on another man to his husband would lead to his husband suggesting they invite that man out for drinks, and then steadily working throughout the night to carefully break down his defences in a way Hassel was just too afraid to do, trying to figure out if he would be amenable to their advances and then finally moving in for the kill, all with minimal help from him? And what little help he could offer mostly being chalked up to just following Brassius’ lead and hoping he didn’t end up bunging whatever it was he was planning on doing?
Brassius truly is one of a kind. Something incredibly special. Hassel has always been exceedingly glad that the two of them met, sometimes just breaks down crying at random moments because he’s so very, very happy to have him in his life— but it’s moments like this that truly make him remember how thankful he is to have married him. His patience, his creativity…
His seductive prowess.
All of it has been leading up to this moment.
The moment where Brassius is spread out across their bed, looking up with bedroom eyes— but this time, it’s not just him he’s looking at like he has a thousand times before. This time, there’s another body between the two of them for him to look at, and his eyes slide effortlessly between the two of them.
Not that Larry can appreciate it as much as Hassel can, because he’s far too busy panting and groaning as Hassel fingers him open in preparation, while Brassius lazily does the same to himself.
Even when pressed Larry couldn’t decide which way he wanted things— only that he most definitely wanted to go, as they say, ‘all the way’.
So, if he couldn’t decide… Then why not present him with the much simpler option of both?
“Just relax,” Hassel coos into Larry’s ear, even though the advice borders on the hypocritical because he feels like he’s going to vibrate right out of his skin. “We’ll take care of everything.”
That part he most definitely means. He knows they could probably leave things mostly in Larry’s capable hands, but it’s fun being able to take charge.
Which is exactly why he reaches around Larry’s body to grasp his cock— taking great pleasure in the little gasp of surprise and pleasure he lets out just from having Hassel’s hand on him— and help guide it to Brassius’ hole.
The fact that he’s the one who told Brassius about his crush on Larry and now he’s watching Larry fuck his husband almost feels like it’s supposed to be poetic justice of a sort, but the only problem with that theory is that Hassel isn’t the least bit upset or jealous… Quite the opposite, actually. His heart starts beating faster as he watches Larry sink into his husband, hears the low moan the man lets out likely in spite of himself because he’s never been the extremely expressive sort, and hears the much more familiar sign of pleasure that Brassius always makes whenever he’s being filled in just the right way.
Of course, Hassel doesn’t intend to let them have all the fun; he sits back on his haunches and pours some more lube into his hand to slick up his own cock as he watches the two of them fuck, watches Larry tentatively thrust into his husband and find a pace before long, hears the familiar pants and moans that Brassius always makes under him in a whole new context that make them sound like the most beautiful music to his ears all over again.
And then, when he’s sure that Larry and Brassius have both adjusted well enough, he decides that it’s time for him to get involved again, and shuffles forward on the bed once more to where the two of them have been pushed up by Larry fucking into Brassius, grasping Larry’s hips in his hands.
Brassius’ ankles, with his legs wrapped around Larry, brush against him as he does so— very purposefully, he assumes, with Brassius trying to give him some kind of signal, or maybe a go ahead. Either way, he has a goal in mind that he’s not interested in being deterred from.
“Just relax,” he repeats, only this time he means it even more literally than before as he presses the lubed head of his cock against Larry’s already prepared hole. “And let us take care of you…”
Hassel sinks into Larry slowly, wanting to give him plenty of time to adjust— but it’s also helpful because he’s sure if he wasn’t taking his time and going slow, he would have cum already.
Hassel is never going to get tired of any part of his beloved Brassie, but he does know that sinking into Larry feels entirely different from fucking Brassius— and the novelty of it combined with the fact that the whole situation still feels downright surreal, like a gift that he hasn’t quite earned yet, leaves him feeling jittery and excited.
He doesn’t think any of them are going to last very long, honestly. Larry already looks positively overwhelmed, turning a bright shade of red starting at his ears and going all the way down to his lower back; Brassius is staring up at both of them with hungry eyes and languidly stroking his cock, but he can tell from how violently red it’s flushed that he’s aching to cum and is just holding himself back for their sakes.
That’s okay. It doesn’t have to be long. It just has to be good. And he has no doubt that this is going to be a night that sticks in Larry’s mind forever.
So with that in mind he grasps the other man’s hips, pulls almost all the way out, and then fucks back into him with a sharp thrust.
Larry cries out in surprise and pleasure, and of course when Hassel fucks into him it makes him fuck into Brassius. He was setting the pace with Brassie before, but now Hassel is setting the pace for all of them,
He knows all of the signs of Brassius getting close, of course. And as Brassius throws his head back and bites his lower lip, and as Larry almost seems to start shaking in his grip, he knows for a fact that this is going to be over before they know it—
Which is why he decides to give this little show a surprise ending by biting Larry’s shoulder right where it meets his neck.
That, apparently, is the key to everything— Larry cries out and tenses up under him, and he hears Brassius let out the exact gasp that he knows means he’s cumming, and as Larry clenches around him it only takes a few more thrusts for Hassel to follow the both of them.
After a few moments of stillness while the three of them try to catch their breath, Hassel pulls out of Larry so that Larry can pull out of Brassius before any of them become beset by oversensitivity—
And from where he’s lying on the bed, his own chest and stomach decorated with his cum and Larry’s dripping out of his hole, Brassius licks his lips and says,
“So… Who’s up for a round two?”