Shh, shh, shhh, it's okay. [Matt's still breathless, a tiny part of him exhausted and ready to curl up and rest, a much much bigger part aware that this is just the beginning. He'd lost count of how many times he came the first time Thace took him, in a big ornate bed much like the one in the adjoining room, but he knows it was much more than the average human could. It left him drained, spent, the last few climaxes wrung out almost painfully, making him sob aloud while strangely gentle furred claws stroked over his still-flat stomach and murmured of new life, new purpose.
Matt can't do the same thing for Lance, can't fulfill him in that way, can't awaken him to his true nature. But he can ease this adjustment, make it good, make it overwhelming and beautiful and blissful. So, reluctantly, he shifts away, untangling his shaky legs from Lance's, slippery skin against soaking fabric. Still panting a little, Matt sits back on his heels, letting Lance get a good look at him, rolling his shoulders back to show off the piercings, the small swell of his chest, flushed dark with his aroused blush. There's a matching piercing in his navel, this one connected to a thin gold chain that disappears under the still-closed lower half of his robe, drawn tight with every shuddering breath, every near-visible squirm and shift of Galra young under his tautly-stretched skin. The way Matt's pressing his slick thighs together, wincing and shivering every time the chain is pulled leaved little doubt as to the location of the jeweled stud it's attached to.
But he manages to focus, eyes wide and bright and dark, the same color as the jewels decorating his body. He reaches out, slowly, takes Lance's hands, guides them back up over his body, encouraging.] You can touch me. I want you to touch me.
[He pauses, hands over Lance's, leading them to rest on the arch of his waist, so small Sendak can almost encircle it with one hand, his hips, wide and full under the clinging robe, every smooth curve speaking of fertility, breeding capability. He bites at his lower lip, eyes blazing on Lance's still-teary face.] Do you want me to touch you?
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Matt can't do the same thing for Lance, can't fulfill him in that way, can't awaken him to his true nature. But he can ease this adjustment, make it good, make it overwhelming and beautiful and blissful. So, reluctantly, he shifts away, untangling his shaky legs from Lance's, slippery skin against soaking fabric. Still panting a little, Matt sits back on his heels, letting Lance get a good look at him, rolling his shoulders back to show off the piercings, the small swell of his chest, flushed dark with his aroused blush. There's a matching piercing in his navel, this one connected to a thin gold chain that disappears under the still-closed lower half of his robe, drawn tight with every shuddering breath, every near-visible squirm and shift of Galra young under his tautly-stretched skin. The way Matt's pressing his slick thighs together, wincing and shivering every time the chain is pulled leaved little doubt as to the location of the jeweled stud it's attached to.
But he manages to focus, eyes wide and bright and dark, the same color as the jewels decorating his body. He reaches out, slowly, takes Lance's hands, guides them back up over his body, encouraging.] You can touch me. I want you to touch me.
[He pauses, hands over Lance's, leading them to rest on the arch of his waist, so small Sendak can almost encircle it with one hand, his hips, wide and full under the clinging robe, every smooth curve speaking of fertility, breeding capability. He bites at his lower lip, eyes blazing on Lance's still-teary face.] Do you want me to touch you?