Narin watches, his mouth dry, as G'raha slicks his fingers with the oil, the pleasant scent of lavender filling the tent, before parting his thighs. Realizes what he means to do just as he presses a slender finger into himself, smiling that cat-smile as he stretches himself open first with one, then two, and then three, slow and deliberately slow.  Putting on a show, more than anything, because his hands are small and delicate and Narin knows, absolutely knows, that it won't be enough (and he knows that G'raha knows, too.)
After a moment, G'raha tosses him the vial of oil with his other hand: Narin fumbles it, nearly drops it almost immediately, but at least keeps hold of it in the end. "Slick your fingers," he says, and then gasps, prettily, trying to arch into his own fingers as he works himself open, slowly and deliberately.  The Miqo'te is good at putting on a show, and Narin half-wonders just how many lovers he's done this for.  "I'll tell you what- ah- to do."
He does what he's told, slicks his fingers with more oil and holds out his hand: G'raha takes his wrist with his other hand and guides his fingers to his entrance, already slick with oil, before he pulls his own fingers out of himself.
"Start with one," G'raha says and Narin carefully presses his first finger into him, slow and careful, enjoys the noise G'raha makes, mixed discomfort and pleasure, a soft breathy sound, as his eyes flutter closed for a moment. His hands are far larger than G'raha's, his fingers are huge,  and gods he's so tight even with just one finger in him, even relaxed and slick with oil already. "Add another," he murmurs, after a moment, as he tilts his head back, baring his pretty pale throat. It's a temptation, an offering, he can't resist, (though he should, anxiety slow like the tide) and he leans down to bite gently at G'raha's throat, sucks a livid red mark into the pale skin, even as he pushes a second finger into him, and the pretty little noise he makes goes right to his cock. Even more tight around his fingers and gods, how can he take so much, Narin's even more conscious of how small he is.  Small and so very, very tight. "You saw what I was doing, yes? Like that."
Slowly, carefully, he starts moving his fingers inside him, works G'raha open nice and slowly, and keeps his slow, careful pace even with the impatient little noise G'raha makes after a few minutes of this.
"I'm not made of glass," the Seeker protests, wiggling his hips to try to take more of his fingers in as Narin pushes the two of them back into him, slowly. "You can be rougher-"
He gasps so prettily, eyes widening, as Narin pulls his fingers all the way out of him and then pushes them back in, along with a third finger. Works him open deliberately, slowly, with all three, and swallows at how tight he is around his fingers, even made ready to receive.
"Like this?" Narin asks, voice lower and rougher than he expects of himself, presses in at a slightly different angle, and is unexpectedly rewarded by a high-pitched whimper as G'raha tightens down on his fingers. Oh, gods, he has a moment of wishing he was tightening down on his cock instead and an immediate moment of creeping anxiety at even thinking about wanting it.
"T-that's enough," G'raha gasps, lovely red eyes fluttering open, tail lashing. "I'm ready for you."
Narin wants so much, but he is also so very, very anxious and even more conscious of how small G'raha is, especially compared to him. Instead, he finds that same angle again with his fingers, coaxes more of those noises from G'raha (gods those noises are nice) and opens him up more for him, until the little scholar makes an irritated sound,  grabs up the abandoned vial of oil with his left hand, pours the rest of what's left into his right palm, then grabs his cock and it's his turn to make a surprised noise. Especially once he looks and sees that G'raha is having a hard time wrapping his hand around him: the size difference between the two of them is stark and gods, he wants.
"G'raha-" he says, trying not to groan at the friction of slender, bowstring-callused fingers around him as G'raha teasingly strokes him, but it's hard, so very hard, and he tries not to arch into the touch but fails.
"I told you I was ready for you," G'raha says, tail swishing, as he settles into his lap, slender thighs parted widely: Narin isn't quite certain himself, on that front, but G'raha is G'raha. Impatient as always, even when he's about to be taken. Narin slowly pulls his fingers out of him - hears the little gasp as he does - just before G'raha takes hold of his cock again and guides it to his entrance, starts taking it in with a little wiggle of his hips . Sinks down on him slowly at first, lets his weight help pull him down ilm by ilm, and gods, the little scholar is tight. Every bit as tight as he'd imagined him to be, known him to be around his fingers, but even more so, almost too tight. Even with G'raha's impatience once he's halfway in him, it's still slow , and Narin's almost afraid to move himself.
Narin groans, low, once he's all the way in him, catches a narrow hip with his hand to hold G'raha still, especially with the soft noise he makes,  pain and pleasure entwined. That sound, the quiet gasp of discomfort, goes to his cock more than he likes to think about or admit.  So he holds him still, wants to give him a chance to adjust.
"You can - ah - move," G'raha says - because, of course, G'raha has different ideas.  Narin instead holds still.
"Be patient," he says, and gently brushes damp red hair out of his eyes, explores the Miqo'te's slim body with the hand that isn't holding his hip, feels - again - the wiry muscles beneath his skin, all wiry muscle beneath a deceptively slight body. Like all of his kind, really.. Waits a little longer, for the tension in G'raha's body to ease before he rolls his hips experimentally, intends to set a slow, careful pace for G'raha to ease into it while trying very hard not to think about how obscenely wide G'raha's tight little hole is stretched around him (and how much he likes that), trying not to think about how much something in him really, really, really wants to be rough, the same part of him that liked the pained-pleasure noise G'raha made.
G'raha, of course, isn't patient. He tightens down - once, and then again, and Narin's grip on his hip tightens, briefly bruising-hard, before slackening again.
That little tease.
Narin isn't certain what he's doing but after a moment, he just rolls them both over, pinning G'raha to the cot and catching both his wrists easily in one hand and just doesn't move. Tries not to groan at how the new angle helps bury him all the way inside the little scholar, if nowhere near as fast and hard as what G'raha would like, and just holds very, very still.  Enjoying the warmth and tightness of his body around him.
"Brat," he says, exasperated, as G'raha wiggles, trying to struggle against the hold.  "No one's ever taught you patience, have they?"
"Oh, they've tried," he says, tries to squirm, and Narin is tempted to turn him over his knee.  Anxiously tempted, but tempted nonetheless.
"It clearly hasn't worked." he mutters, glancing down at G'raha's cat smile. Narin might be inexperienced but he knows what G'raha is up to and he's not going to just let him get his way.  Instead, he nips at one pretty ear and is momentarily surprised at the cute little gasp the scholar makes. For some reason, he hadn't expected Miqo'te ears to be that sensitive, but it's cute - and he has an idea. He keeps hold of G'raha's wrists in his one hand and reaches to toy with one of his soft ears with the other, deliberately holding still and with just enough of his weight resting on G'raha that he should be very aware of it. "Or you weren't motivated enough to actually learn your lesson."
"And how do you expect to actually motivate me?" G'raha tips his head back, challenging, offering, and Narin sharply nips his throat, leaves another mark.
"I don't have to give you what you want." he says, feeling the back of his neck flush in embarrassment.  He hopes that he isn't blushing, but has the distinct suspicion that he is,  dark red flush unmistakable against his pale skin even in the dim lamplight. "I could just leave you like this, just enjoy you this way."
"You wouldn't-" G'raha says, pouting and tightening down on him again.  Little brat, and he just nips his throat again, not even thinking about the marks G'raha's going to have in the morning.
"Why should I give you a reward?" Narin can definitely feel his cheeks heat now, anxiety thick in the back of his head. "You'll have to ask nicely before I give you anything else."
"'Nicely'?"
"Nicely." Narin confirms, tweaks a cute ear with his other hand just to hear the pretty little whimper as G'raha tries again to struggle against his hold . "Since I know 'politely' is out. No one will ever be able to teach you manners."