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Hassel adored Brassius.
More than that, Hassel was enraptured by their relationship.
Brassius walked him through a gallery of artwork, explaining all of it, and still Hassel couldn’t take his eyes off of him. The real work of art. He spoke so confidently, so passionately; of course he couldn’t take his eyes off of the wave of his hand, the shape of his body as he gestured, his smile. He smiled so softly, so genuinely. So full of joy at where they were.
Happy—after a world of deep sadness. You couldn’t see a trace of melancholy in the man standing before him. Yet Hassel knew what it felt like to see such sadness in its rawest form.
Brassius reached out a hand to him, and Hassel took it without hesitation, despite having no idea what he said.
Brassius pulled him to a private room with a large painting of a brilliant sunset layered expertly with paint, reminiscent of a stained glass window.
Brassius shut the door behind them and smiled at him.
“I’ve seen this painting—it’s wonderful. I remember the painstaking process, the hours of work… I helped you wrap your hands when they started hurting you from overexertion. I remember seeing the finished product and how you passed out immediately afterwards. You work much too hard, my dear Brassie.”
Brassius pushed him against a wall and smirked up at him.
“Oh, this isn’t about the painting—”
“You’re about as subtle as a burn on the palate, darling. You haven’t been listening to anything I’ve said in the past hour.”
“My apologies, Brassie.”
“I don’t care. When I realized you were staring at me, I was beyond flattered. I still am. Oh, who cares anyway? You know why I brought you here,” he told him before pulling Hassel down to him and kissing his lips once, deeply drawing him in even in a public place.
Hassel took his hands and gracefully flipped them so Brassius would be against the wall. As Hassel extended the kiss, he felt the other stiffen and tensing instead of melting into it.
“What’s wrong?”
But upon looking at his face, he saw a genuine unsettled expression, so he released him.
“I just felt overwhelmed.” He’d also started to blush out of nowhere. He leaned against the wall looking at him, his body language closing off to him.
Hassel knew when to back off. “That was a bit too fast, right? Let’s take a break.”
They ended without resentment. All was well.
Except whenever they got to that point, Brassius would hesitate.
Hassel tried much later in Brassius’s cozy home. Brassius even initiated it, a kiss on the chaise. Hassel waited until he seemed relaxed, but as soon as he switched him and pushed him into the cushions, Brassius withdrew.
Anywhere they went Hassel met with this stalemate. No matter the buildup. Brassius couldn’t explain why. He would find a way out and take the retreat. No matter who initiated it.
Hassel needed a second opinion on this. One that wouldn’t be too loud about his situation. Before an Elite Four meeting, Hassel grabbed Larry since Geeta hadn’t arrived yet.
“I have a problem that I need help with.”
“Is it work related?” Larry frowned at the hand holding his arm and then Hassel’s face.
“No—”
“Then we’ll talk at lunch. You’re buying.”
“What?”
“Your problem, you buy.”
Hassel agreed just before Geeta gathered them to speak on some changes.
Larry made him go to a sandwich shop in Mesagoza and ordered an excessive amount of toppings. He insisted Hassel eat too, so he also ordered something but much smaller.
“So, what’s the problem, Hassel?”
“Well, my beloved and I have been hitting a wall lately. Is this something you would be able to help with?”
“Oh, you and Brassius?”
“Larry! Keep your voice down, this isn’t something I’m announcing to the world!”
Larry shrugged. “Everyone already knows, he’s attached to your hip. But sure, I’ll talk in code for you. What’s happening between you two that made you desperate enough to ask me for help?”
“He’s been freezing up on me lately, and I don’t know why. It isn’t a lack of attraction, he initiates intimacy most days. But we never get far enough for anything, no matter where we start.” Hassel explained in a low tone to keep it between them.
Larry seemed to think about it to himself.
Hassel added a little more, “I could push on when he gets like this, but it feels wrong. He stops engaging completely, and even though he would not stop me, he is very clearly overwhelmed and not able to continue.”
“He just stops?”
“Everything. If we were kissing, it turns into me kissing him, and he’s gripping my arms for dear life.” Hassel sighed.
Larry nodded. “Did you ask him?”
“Yes, and he doesn’t know why either. I try not to pry because it frustrates him that he doesn’t know, but I don’t know myself.”
“Well, the simplest explanation is usually the best. What happens right before he freezes up?”
“I move him against the wall or into whatever surface we’re on.”
“Good. So, just keep him on top.”
Hassel hesitated. “Wait, you think it’s because I’ve been switching positions with him? But why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re giant compared to him, and he’s afraid of being squished?”
“Okay,” Hassel hummed with disbelief, “but if he stays in place I can’t… do certain things…”
Larry chuckled halfhearted. “You can do a lot actually. How about we go to your place for the rest of this conversation? You have an apartment around Mesagoza, right?”
They took their conversation to Hassel’s home. Hassel made him some coffee and got back to business.
“Why did we relocate?”
“This is going into consent and intimacy territory, so I’d rather just talk plainly instead in elaborate codes. Thank you for the coffee.”
Hassel sipped his coffee and gave him a puzzled look for him to explain.
“So, I see this like a classic new Dom/sub learning situation. You can gauge what he likes and doesn’t like pretty well, but he isn’t great at figuring that out for himself.”
“Oh, this isn’t—we’re just a normal couple—”
“Yeah, no, I know. I’m not trying to imply anything. Let me be more frank: you have a rare opportunity to prod Brassius for what he likes and dislikes because he actually wants to do stuff and you can actually read him well.”
Hassel shook his head. “Okay…”
“So why not look into it? If he figures himself out with you, he’ll eventually be able to communicate it a little better to you. Then you can get into sleeping with him or whatever.”
Hassel waved his hand in the air as if erasing everything being discussed. “This sounds absurd, Larry. I don’t think getting into all of that nonsense is what our relationship needs…”
“Are you interested?”
“I just stated that—”
“Yes, but do you want to know more or no? I could just leave now if that’s all.”
“No, no… alright, what else can I do for Brassius?”
Larry took out a piece of paper and a pen. The pen looked like one of Geeta’s. He must have stolen it, accidentally or on purpose, probably purposely due to their perpetual feud.
“There’s a couple of areas you can prod for information. Does he like more sensory stuff aside from the sensual stuff? Does he respond to praise or humiliation? Is he interested in pain or maybe inflicting pain? Does he like taking orders? Is he resistant and playful, trying to get a reaction out of you? Does he like to be scared? There’s a lot to figure out so I’ll write it down—this goes for you too. You should figure out what you like or you wouldn’t enjoy doing with him.”
Hassel closed his eyes and shook his head again. Preposterous. Larry would make him a fool for considering this.
“I know some of these actually.” Hassel found himself saying. “He hates humiliation and loves praise. The other day he pulled me into a private room to kiss me when I couldn’t stop looking at him. On the other hand, on another occasion, I mocked his overdressing for a casual event, and so he shut me out for days and refused to speak to me until I apologized profusely.”
“Compliment him to help him relax when you’re doing stuff then. But genuinely. He’s not big on fake compliments. I found that out the hard way.” Larry groaned. Hassel distantly recalled Larry complimenting Brassius out of obligation and getting scolded for it. He valued honesty for sure.
“I’ve never done anything with regards to pain, I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with that… he’s very playful. I don’t know about taking orders or sensory type things, but I can see about those kinds of things, I suppose.”
“Does he like to be scared?”
“I don’t know what you mean. He gets a thrill out of dangerous things, but I’m not going to throw him off the windmill.”
Larry wrote something down. “I’d guess ‘no’ since he freezes up specifically when you show even a bit of force. You can still control him as long as he thinks he’s in charge. It’s fine.”
“How do you know so much?” Hassel brought out when he realized how much Larry was freely offering.
“I’d rather not get into that. It has nothing to do with your problem.” Larry replied plainly. “But if you ever need more insight on this, let me know; I could give you more specific suggestions once you know more about each other.”
Hassel changed the sheets on the bed while he thought this over again. Fresh sheets would help Brassius sleep much longer and more comfortably. He loved the smell and feel of fresh sheets and would hide under them contentedly for hours if allowed.
Hassel decided to try at Larry’s advice that night on the newly made bed.
Brassius changed into silk pajamas and threw himself on the bed at once. Hassel approached and started to gently rub his back under his shirt. He murmured to him, “oh, so tired, my poor delicate flower. Are you okay?”
Hassel wore a robe for comfort and access. At the moment, he kept it tightly tied, easily changed if necessary. Brassius touched the fabric and smiled a little at the texture—the soft texture, Hassel noted.
Hassel let himself fall next to Brassius on the bed and stretched. “Brassie, dear, are you too tired for a kiss? I missed you so much today.”
Instead of answering aloud, Brassius moved to straddle his waist and lay on top of him. He kissed him, aggressively—his signal that he wanted more. Hassel smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around him. The silk fabric made his grip awkward, so he paused the kiss.
“Take this off. My hands keep slipping.”
Before he finished the sentence, Brassius sent it across the room and looked at him for approval. Hassel let out a breathy laugh and made a mental tally on the likes to follow commands column.
“You look beautiful, Brassie. Even now.”
With that compliment, Brassius lowered himself to kiss him once again. He kept a light grip on Hassel and allowed Hassel to touch him without objection. He could move him around and grip him hard with no protest from him.
Larry was right way too quickly…
“Brassie?”
Brassius stopped and cupped Hassel’s face with his dominant hand. “Yes?”
Hassel smiled at their proximity. Brassius’s gray eyes shimmered like silver, locked onto his without a hint of fear. Perfect. He was perfect. He echoed Hassel’s smile and stole a sweet, little kiss from his lips.
“Brassius,” sensory, he needed more sensory information, “I’d like to light a candle. The room smells a bit musty. Do you have a scent that you would prefer?”
“Floral scents. I know you’re not a fan of dahlia—how about a rose-scented candle?” He rolled off of him and sat up.
Hassel took his time getting up and looked around for the deep red colored candle, finding it in a drawer. Brassius helped him light it and took in the scent for a moment.
“It’s perfect.”
Hassel sat on the bed and Brassius went straight to him, to his lap, hands on his chest. “You’re quite the romantic tonight. Lighting a candle? Special occasion?”
“Just setting the mood.”
Brassius lowered his eyes. “I’ve been such a problem. I know. I keep trying but—”
Hassel shook his head and put a finger up. “Do not linger in the past. We’re learning together; it’s a process. I haven’t given up and neither have you. Correct?”
“Right,” Brassius replied and met his eyes again.
“Then don’t even think of the past.”
Brassius went to kiss him, but Hassel stopped him.
“First, if anything I do makes you uncomfortable, let’s take a break and get some water. We have nothing but time, okay? If something I do you really enjoy, tell me so I keep it in my bag of tricks.”
“Okay.” Brassius nodded and went to kiss his neck.
“One more thing,” Hassel stopped him again, “tonight isn’t about sleeping together. We’re not doing that today, okay?”
Brassius looked like he’d bite his hand if he didn’t stop preventing him from kissing him. Hassel pulled him close and held onto his waist while Brassius kissed his neck.
He pushed Hassel’s robe down and touched his shoulders, examining with adoration but still drowning him with kisses.
Hassel ran his hand up and down his back, tracing the artist’s spine with his fingers to give him the chilling sensation of a light touch. Brassius shivered and gripped his shoulders, digging his fingers into his skin.
Hassel paused for a moment, trying to gauge his reaction.
“That feels good, so good. Keep going.” Brassius told him.
Excellent. He gave him feedback already.
Hassel continued with one hand and used the other to untie his robe. Brassius made some sound in confusion but still helped him remove the robe for more contact.
“I thought we weren’t…?”
“We aren’t. Do you mind, or is this too distracting?”
Brassius looked him over and stared at him for a while before answering, “you’re fine—it’s fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Don’t tease me, you’re better than that.”
“You’re nervous.” Hassel chuckled. “Wait, not too nervous I hope?”
Brassius shook his head. “I’m fine, somehow.” He seemed to think about this. “I’m not too sure how, but you’ve managed to keep me calm this whole time. Thank you, Hass, you’re the most thoughtful man alive.”
He leaned against Hassel’s chest, loose enough to move. Hassel gently laid him on the bed and put a soft blanket over him. “I think I’m going to turn the temperature up a little. It’s a bit nippy.”
Brassius hugged the blanket and let him leave to adjust the temperature. His small husband ran perpetually cold, heat should relax him, though he happily snuggled the blanket and looked relaxed enough to do just about anything.
“Brassius, remove the rest of your clothes for me.” He said as a polite request.
Brassius removed the silk shorts and pushed them off the bed. He locked eyes with Hassel and partially sat up, trying to tempt him over with a look and a small head tilt. Hassel decided to mess with him a little.
“Are you hungry?”
“Hassel, come here…”
“Are you sure? I could eat a whole sandwich right now.”
“Hassel, come to bed, or I’m going to sleep!”
Hassel chuckled and sauntered about the room, drinking a bit of water, putting things away. He grinned at Brassius at one point, and he swore he’d throw the lamp at him if he dragged this out any longer.
“Stop walking around our room naked just to taunt me.” Brassius moved to the edge of the bed.
Hassel approached. “What do you want?”
“Kiss me?”
Hassel pulled out his hair tie and clips to let his hair fall. He tilted his lover’s chin to him and kissed his lips. It hit him differently—the spark felt more intense. Brassius showed how much he felt it too by pulling Hassel closer.
Much to his surprise, he pulled Hassel into the bed, on top of him. He didn’t slow down or stop—Hassel had to brace himself so he didn’t crush him, but Brassius remained calm and confident.
Hassel remained tense, expecting Brassius to tap out any minute. Staying completely aware came with a perk—he could feel how eager Brassius grew from the contact. He wrapped his arms around Hassel and started pressing his nails in his back.
Because Larry previously put the thought in Hassel’s head, he knew just what Brassius was about to do before he did it.
Brassius raked his nails down his back and moaned loudly in the kiss. Hassel shivered and broke the kiss.
Brassius stayed a breath away from him and looked concerned, though through lidded eyes. “Hass, are you alright? Did I hurt you?”
Hassel sat up. “It was unexpected—I’m fine, don’t worry.” It stung a little, but not too badly. Bearable, yet burning slightly.
Brassius moved behind him and traced his back, kissing on a certain spot. “Can I make it up to you? Would you like me to brush your hair? I know you love personal care activities~”
Hassel went to agree and paused for a thought. “You know what I like?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“I was trying to find out what you liked,” Hassel admitted and passed him a hair brush.
“Oh really?”
“Yes, I found out a lot.” Brassius brushed out Hassel’s hair while listening. Goodness he was right about enjoying his hair being brushed. He calmed right down almost immediately.
“What did you find out?” Brassius inquired.
“You love soft things, warm temperatures, beautiful smells, praise, taking directions, a bit of teasing, and apparently inflicting a bit of pain.” Hassel frowned at the last bit.
“I don’t know how true all of that is. I don’t take direction well; I just like seeing you comfortable with yourself, Hass.”
“Exactly, now we can do things a bit smoother because we can talk about it. It’s like a language, a conversation, but of intimacy.”
Brassius got quiet.
“Brassie?” He turned to see Brassius looked flushed and fidgety. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. It just stuns me that talking about it is so easy for you. It feels so invasive to me.”
“But, Brassius,” Hassel started to say and pulled him to his chest, “no one knows you like I do.”
Brassius looked up at him wide-eyed.
“I want to know as much as I can about you. All of it. Everything. Even the things you think are bad. And I’ll use it to make you feel so good, and avoid anything that makes you uncomfortable. I’ll melt you so nicely into my arms by giving you the things you crave, things you never even thought you craved. This isn’t invasive between us, my sunflower, it’s love. And if you let me, I’ll drown you in it.”
After hearing that, Brassius captured his lips in a long, searing kiss. He nearly knocked Hassel over with his burst of passion. Words compelled the artist like nothing else.
Brassius might be attacking him with desperate kisses, but his body went soft. He barely held himself up, almost sluggishly thrown on Hassel. Hassel held him in place with a flat hand in the middle of his back.
“Pace yourself, my dear,” Hassel murmured when he took a breath.
Brassius slowed down gradually until he let himself slump into his arms. Hassel kissed him while in this melted position and found him only vaguely reciprocating it back.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, just heavy, a little lightheaded… kiss me.”
Hassel kissed him around his face. He didn’t fight it; he seemed drunkenly happy, hands clumsily wrapped around Hassel’s neck, giggling and whining in his ear. Brassius wasn’t sleepy or anxious—he was blissed out.
Hassel let him ride it out, kissing his neck softly to maintain contact while Brassius purred from the attention. His expression couldn’t be more vulnerable. Brassius valued his ability to maintain his composure. Brassius must truly trust him to show this side of himself. What a privilege!
Hassel laid him down, and moved over him. He took his dominant hand in his own and interlaced their fingers. Hassel looked at him affectionately and gave him one last peck on the cheek before Brassius started talking.
“How did you do that?”
“Mmm?” Hassel focused back on his eyes.
“How did you know this would work?”
Hassel nodded but decided not to reveal the actual answer since he’d most likely feel uncomfortable with the idea that Hassel spoke with someone else about their relationship. “I did some research.”
Brassius squinted suspiciously at him, and seeing him be so observant even now made Hassel laugh a little. “You don’t believe me, Brassie?”
“Of course I do,” he replied to Hassel, sounding rather disingenuous. “You are a clever man, so I know there’s always a little more to learn about you than what’s on the surface.”
“I could say the same about you.” He laughed.
Hassel moved to kiss him and instead met a hand stopping him.
“Hassel! I’ve got it! I need to go before I lose it!” Brassius slipped out from underneath him and sprinted to the door. “I’ll be right back! No need to wait for me if you’re tired! Don’t forget the candle!”
He ran off…
Unbeknownst to Brassius, Hassel followed him to the atelier to preview the starting point for this sudden inspirational piece. Brassius wrote out some plans on a large sketchbook and went for clay right away, just in his apron and nothing else. Hassel spent most of the night watching Brassius work until the artist passed out.
Hassel approached and undid the tie on the apron. He pulled him into his arms and walked him to bed where he slept so deeply that when he woke up the next day, he didn’t remember starting the new sculpture at all let alone finishing it.