Then Quinlan felt the shift.
It was subtle at first. A glance from Miri that lingered a beat too long. Luminara's eyes drifting to his face, then dropping, then returning. The two women exchanged a look between themselves, the kind that municated entire conversations in a single blink.
Then both sets of eyes moved downward.
Toward their own chests.
Quinlan's eyebrow rose slowly.
"Mothers..."
"Quinnie...!!" they whimpered in unison, voices carrying the exact same pitch of yearning that told him this had been on their minds for a while.
He exhaled through his nose. "I am a father now, you know? You've already met my daughter. You're grandmothers."
The reaction was instantaneous and vicious.
"So?!" Miri snapped, sitting upright with an indignant fire in her eyes. "Rosie is a unique girl, she's your daughter no doubt, but the logic doesn't hold! You are far too young to leave the nest!"
"You're our precious boy," Luminara added firmly, rising to match her fellow mother's energy, "and you need to be pampered!"
The warmth that spread through Quinlan's chest at their words was immediate and involuntary. These women, billions of years old, still looked at him like he was the most important thing in their world.
Because he was.
He smiled despite himself. "And when exactly will I stop being your precious boy who needs to be pampered? Give me an age range I have to reach."
Both women stared at him.
Then at each other.
Then back at him.
Sheer and overwhelming outrage was visible in their gazes.
"THERE'S NO SUCH AN AGE!" they declared together, so perfectly synchronized it could have been rehearsed.
Quinlan held their gaze.
Miri stared back, chin raised, defiant.
Luminara stared back, lips pressed together, resolute.
He looked at Miri.
Miri's eyes narrowed as if to say, 'don't even think about refusing.'
He looked at Luminara.
Luminara tilted her head as if to say, 'You already know the answer, sweetie.'
He looked back at Miri.
She crossed her arms beneath her chest, which only served to emphasize exactly what was being offered.
His gaze moved between them one final time.
Two pairs of expectant, hopeful, aggressively maternal eyes stared back at him.
'I was already a grown man the last time I drained those milkers,' he reasoned to himself. 'Screw it. Family traditions. Anyone who wants to judge me can take it up with my saber.'
The Soul Reaper flared in response, fully in agreement.
Even Synchra voiced her agreement.
It seemed his armor herself was ready to throw hands with those who dared to question her master's actions that were to follow right now.
Decision made.
He reached out and scooped both women up by the waist once again, lifting them as he stood.
Twin squeals filled the treehouse, bright and giddy and utterly unbeing of primordial beings, as he carried them the short distance to the bed and deposited them onto the soft surface. Miri bounced once, laughing, while Luminara caught herself gracefully before immediately scooting closer and beginning to loosen the front of her garment with fingers that moved just a touch too eagerly.
Miri followed suit, pulling the fabric aside with practiced ease, revealing the full, generous curve of her chest as she settled back against the pillows and opened her arms to him.
"e here, Quinnie," she beckoned, voice dropping into something softer and infinitely warmer.
Luminara mirrored her on the other side, cradling one breast with her hand and guiding it forward, her expression carrying the tender pride of a mother who lived for moments like these. "Don't hold back! Take as much as you need. This is the only thing we can give you… Eat well so you can face the dangers in a world we can't protect you in!"
She was pleading, her sincerity overwhelming.
Both mothers were visibly distraught to not be able to support their son, to protect him with their bodies and magic. The best they could do was let him feast on their essence, hoping the nutritional value would give him a boost, no matter how small.
It was a bit tragic. Quinlan desperately wanted to help them escape the current situation.
But that was not in his powers, not for now.
Thus, all he could do was accept their desire to protect him, no matter the method.
Quinlan settled between them without further hesitation.
He turned to Miri first, and the moment his lips found her, the warmth that flooded through him was unlike anything else. The milk of a primordial mother carried something beyond sustenance, something that sank into his bones and eased tensions he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying. It tasted faintly sweet, rich and heavy, and every mouthful spread through his body like sunlight filling a dark room from the inside out.
Miri's hand came up to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair as she held him close. Her breath hitched once, then steadied into a slow, contented rhythm, her chest rising and falling gently as her precious son drew from her.
"Quinnie… you must grow into a strong man…" she whispered.
When he shifted to Luminara, she was already waiting, one hand guiding him to her while the other stroked his shoulder. The taste was different from Miri's, lighter and carrying a floral sweetness that reminded him of the chamomile and moonpetal tea from Granny Thistle's kitchen, and the thought almost made him laugh against her skin.
Luminara let out a soft, musical sigh, her body relaxing pletely beneath his attention as her fingers traced slow circles on his back. "My son... Feast…" she breathed, and the sheer depth of affection packed into those words could have filled oceans.
He alternated between them at his own pace, and neither rushed him nor peted. They simply offered, endlessly and without condition.
Some moans might've left their lips, and some strong shudders might've traveled down their spines as well, but that was neither here nor there.
This was a wonderful family tradition, Quinlan decided.
When he finally pulled back, settled between both women with his head resting against Miri's shoulder and Luminara's arm draped across his chest, he let out a breath so deeply satisfied it bordered on spiritual.
"Primordial mommy milk just hits different," he declared.
Miri and Luminara beamed at him, identical expressions of radiant, overflowing maternal pride lighting their faces as they nestled closer on either side.
"Of course it does," Miri said, stroking his hair.
"Nothing else could pare," Luminara agreed, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Don't you dare assume otherwise!"
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