[Matt winces a little when Lance suddenly clings to him, partially out of empathy and heartache -- he's not a Paladin, he's not Zarkon, but he's tasted enough quintessence for the younger human's fear and grief to resonate almost tangibly along his veins -- and partially because he's so oversensitive right now, always is this far along in a pregnancy. It's not as noticeable with the alternating soft-coarse fur of his two masters, which tickles and rubs his soft skin raw, but isn't quite as overwhelming.
Lance is warm, he's warm and soft and trembling against Matt's achingly tender chest, and his breath catches in his throat, overwhelmed with the need to comfort, to soothe, to console. He makes a soft, anxious sound, low in his throat, reaches down and cradles Lance's face in both his soft hands, thumbing, then kissing away the tears on his young, terrified face.]
I know, I know, you've been so brave. [He murmurs it, almost purring it, the same tone and cadence he'd use with a frightened kit, coaxing Lance closer to his warm body, soft and vulnerable, smelling of soothing things, milky-sweet and reassuring.] You've been so brave for so, so long, sweetheart, and you don't have to be anymore. Okay? You don't have to keep trying so hard to be strong.
[Matt nuzzles against Lance's cheek, breathing out, almost in awe --] Don't you realize how important you are? How special and precious and beloved? He's waited for you for ten thousand years, Lance. He's longed for you every second. He'd tear the universe apart before he'd let anything happen to you.
[His voice drops again, kissing over the younger human's cheeks, his nose, his forehead, coming to his lips, tasting his innocence and fear and longing for comfort in every hesitant movement. Blood is quicker for bonding, breeding the strongest, but that's not for them. For who and what they are, Matt's tongue teasing open Lance's lips, his hand reaching down to guide one shaky hand to rest on his swollen stomach, feel the soft flutters of life, of the most beautiful, perfect thing in the whole galaxy, murmuring against his mouth --] He wants to make you like this because he loves you.
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Lance is warm, he's warm and soft and trembling against Matt's achingly tender chest, and his breath catches in his throat, overwhelmed with the need to comfort, to soothe, to console. He makes a soft, anxious sound, low in his throat, reaches down and cradles Lance's face in both his soft hands, thumbing, then kissing away the tears on his young, terrified face.]
I know, I know, you've been so brave. [He murmurs it, almost purring it, the same tone and cadence he'd use with a frightened kit, coaxing Lance closer to his warm body, soft and vulnerable, smelling of soothing things, milky-sweet and reassuring.] You've been so brave for so, so long, sweetheart, and you don't have to be anymore. Okay? You don't have to keep trying so hard to be strong.
[Matt nuzzles against Lance's cheek, breathing out, almost in awe --] Don't you realize how important you are? How special and precious and beloved? He's waited for you for ten thousand years, Lance. He's longed for you every second. He'd tear the universe apart before he'd let anything happen to you.
[His voice drops again, kissing over the younger human's cheeks, his nose, his forehead, coming to his lips, tasting his innocence and fear and longing for comfort in every hesitant movement. Blood is quicker for bonding, breeding the strongest, but that's not for them. For who and what they are, Matt's tongue teasing open Lance's lips, his hand reaching down to guide one shaky hand to rest on his swollen stomach, feel the soft flutters of life, of the most beautiful, perfect thing in the whole galaxy, murmuring against his mouth --] He wants to make you like this because he loves you.