#voltron ulaz

Thace is sitting by the fire, frown cast in deep chasms over his young face. One ear swivels, searching for his mate coming home, chasing fleeting sounds through the night. The other is fixed behind him, on four of his kits sleeping soundly in the den, safe in the knowledge that their bearer is right outside.

At least, they fucking better be, given it took a varga to get the triplets into bed! Why did he want so many kits again?

The answer to that comes with the sound of a particular set of footsteps drawing near, bringing a smile to Thace’s lips. An older, war-grizzled Galra soon comes into sight, the shape of his body haunting in the light of the village’s campfires.

“Welcome home,” Thace murmurs, holding out his arms for the sleeping kit Ulaz carries close to his chest.

“Welcome home,” Ulaz echoes. It’s a long-time ritual of theirs, to call each other home, especially during an age when physical home could be destroyed at any time.

Thace purrs, cradles his youngest kit close, breathing in their scent, drawing his cheek over the top of their head. Without hesitation, Ulaz passes over the newborn infant, understanding his mate’s needs. And Raj’s. Their eyes and ears are barely open, mere silhouettes, the sounds of their family the only things their senses care about. That includes not spending more than a few vargas without one of their parents. Thace feels the same way, instinctively drawn to his littlest kit.

Sometimes, work makes that impossible.

Ulaz sits next to him, pulls a slightly cold dinner toward him. They sit in silence for a while, Thace letting himself relax now that he has all his kits again, Ulaz taking the time to savor a moment after a rough afternoon of profiling. Both are decompressing, relishing their time (mostly) alone.

“So… What’s gone and put that frown on your face?”

“The princes.”

“Not Lotor, I presume.” “No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I feel like I failed somehow,” Thace whispers. “They’re so, so young. Both of them. Lance still smells more like a kit than an adult. And so much is being asked of them. And I- I keep thinking of how I crumbled under everything.”

“You did not crumble, my love.” Ulaz tucks his chin over Thace’s shoulder, smiling down at the kit sleeping in his mate’s arms. “You realized you’d been indoctrinated and then had an identity crisis because you finally started thinking for yourself. Very different things.”

The humor falls flat. Ulaz’s humor usually does.

“I know. I know. I just… Keith- Keith feels like one of my kits to me. Like I love him, and want to protect him, and keep him safe. He’s been through so much and I dunno. I’m dissatisfied.”

“It’s too soon. They should have waited a decaphoeb or two to breed,” Ulaz agrees. “But they are princes, and sometimes what should be, can’t be.”

“I know that too.” An edge creeps into Thace’s voice.

“But you don’t like it.”

“No, I don’t.”

Ulaz chuckles, eyes gleaming with fondness in the dark. “May I make an observation?” At Thace’s hesitant nod, the older Galra continues. “You are… extremely opinionated, and you’ve been known to get very annoyed when people don’t agree or conform to those opinions.”

“So I’m mad that the princes have chosen to go straight from final growth and bonding to parenthood for the simple reason that I don’t like it? Or am I mad because I advised them to do exactly that for political reasons even though I’m a healthcare provider?”

“You tell me. Why are you mad?”

Thace groans, leans away so he can properly glare at his mate. “I hate when you do that.”

“I’m a profiler. That’s what I do. And you used to find it very hot when I do that.”

“It is. When you’re not doing it to me.”

“And I just got you to admit you still think I’m hot.” Ulaz kisses him, smile against smile.

“Oh, you’re very hot,” Thace agrees, returning the kiss. “But I’m hotter.”

A few doboshes pass in easy silence, touch and even breaths replacing discourse. It’s been like this since before they even bonded, the comfort of silence coming naturally in each other’s presence. Decaphoebs of trust lie between them, stemming from care given during a first season Thace hadn’t intended to face alone until it was right upon him.

The younger Galra sighs, eventually surrendering to his older mate’s learned patience.

“I’m mad because if I’d said what I should have said instead of what I needed to say, they would have had more time together just the two of them. And that time was so important to me.”

“You and Keith are different people. You needed time for yourself because you’d constantly been smothered by others. Keith has still been alone for more decaphoebs than he hasn’t. He wants to sink himself into the soil and put down as many roots as he can.

“Don’t begrudge them an early start just because it’s not what you’d choose for yourself. They were happy when you spoke to them, right?”

Thace heaves a sigh. “They were… so happy. I’ve never heard two people sound that happy. Like it was all they ever wanted.”

“Then maybe we give them the benefit of the doubt. Let’s see if the Altean rises to the occasion before we go sulking pensive in front of the fire.” Ulaz’s arms wrap around his waist, legs crossing beneath Thace’s own crossed legs. “Or go kicking his ass for hurting our little friend.”

“You think you’re clever, don’t you,” Thace mutters, not missing how he’s suddenly in his mate’s lap.

“I missed you. I haven’t seen you all quintant except to trade off Raj.”

Unable to argue, Thace leans back against him, a silent admission. Raj yawns, stretching their little arms as their mouth opens wide, tiny tongue curling.

“I want more of these,” Ulaz whispers, slipping a finger into his infant kit’s fist. “Like a million of them.”

“I don’t know about a million, but a few more for sure.” Thace bites his lip. “You really think they’ll be okay?”

“You know, I really do. I wasn’t ready, but when we got pregnant with Mashan I like to think I did quite well.”

“You did,” Thace promises, gazing at Ulaz’s finger still gripped tight in their kit’s tiny hand. “You did so well, love.”

Ulaz hadn’t always wanted kits, afraid to disappoint, to damage a small, dependent life. Thace had accepted, though not without some heartbreak that morphed into fear after contraceptives failed some dozen seasons down the line. When he told Ulaz, he’d found himself comforted, Ulaz’s fear tempering his own, the promise of a new life pushing everything else away.

That new life became Mashan, their sweet, gentle girl that makes them desperate. Mashan, who will never make it in this life if something doesn’t change and soon. For Forenz, Bimesa, and Lorna, who could thrive anywhere but still deserve better. For Raj, who takes after their bearer already, fierce and ferocious, but should never have to wonder if their parents are coming home.

“I’m so glad I waited for you,” Thace whispers.

“I’m glad I waited for you too.” Ulaz extracts himself from Raj’s grip, squeezes his mate tight, rubs their cheeks together. They purr in concert. They’ve been together for almost two centaphoebs, fathers for not even half that, but given the choice, there’s nothing they would have done differently.

The proof of that comes later, with Mashan curling up against Ulaz’s chest, using his arm as a pillow, clinging to him like a little primate. He’s got her tail in his hand. The triplets are piled between them and Thace, Raj on his chest, still-folded ear pressed to his central heart.