Chapter Text
He is beautiful in the sunlight, Eyra thinks.
Well, he is beautiful even outside of the sunlight, but it is so much more pronounced when he is bathed is its warm rays, every stand of his russet hair glowing radiantly.
G'raha lounges in the sun lazily, enjoying a nice rest after a hard day's work. he has dragged his bedroll just outside his tent onto the relatively clean stone of the isolated ridge he and Eyra's tents are on and is just relaxing, soaking up the sun like any seeker loves to do. Eyra wants so desperately to join him is his bliss, to hold him and truly relax.
But he shouldn't. That is not the sort of thing people in Eozea do among friends.
He does not think that he and G'raha are any more than that, much as he wishes it were so.
And even then it is not a thing considered appropriate to ask for, something had learned in a quite humiliating fashion in the year he had spent in the continent before meeting the scions.
But he still aches for it.
It has been long, so long since he has truly felt the warmth of another, not since his mother's parting hug nearly eight years ago.
Just the thought brings up bad memories.
It is a cruel thing his people do, forcing some to leave their home and family for a solitary existence in the cold woods alone.
But it is no matter, he has rejected that fate, and in the process made many fine friends.
But he still feels cold and lonely at night, as he has every night since he left his home. He had never noticed it before then, but he does now.
It is not particularly cold, though he's sure Alphinaud would disagree if he were here. Eyra had grown fond of the boy in the months since he had gotten to know him. He reminded Eyra of himself at that age, thinking he knew everything, that everything would just work out if he puts his mind to it. He hopes that he'll be there to comfort him when that feeling of safety comes crashing down.
Neither is it night, though Eyra is still lonely. Staring down at the resting Miqo'te below him, he longs for his embrace, any embrace really, but G'raha's he longs for particularly. The Miqo'te's is enticing in a way unfamiliar to Eyra, his scent light and pleasing to his perceptive Viera nose.
Scent means a very different thing to Viera than it does to most other races, in the forest, a good nose is far more important than good eyes, and various pheromone markers let him tell things about people that he wouldn't be able to otherwise.
Aside from that, everyone has a personal scent, an easy way to identify them, and also a possibly attractive trait, depending on the person. And wow, is he attracted to G'raha's. He wishes he could move closer to really get at it, but he really shouldn't.
He really should do something else, he's sure Cid could use some help preparing for the upcoming expedition. But he would rather stay here. Watching G'raha sleep is a far cry from doing it alongside him, but it is as close as he can get right now. He closes his eyes and imagines that he was next to him, how he would feel and smell, how his voice would sound. He would take him in his arms and say-
"Eyra?"
His eyes dart open with a start as he hears the real voice of the man below him, rather than his imagined one.
It is at times like this that his reputation for being blank-faced and silent serves him, as G'raha seems to interpret his cornered silence as an invitation to continue.
"Do you need something, Warrior? I've been smelling you standing there for some time now."
It is so hard having to keep track of which race is which, and what each of them are like and can do, and Eyra often forgets that a Miqo'te's sense of smell is just as good as a Viera's, if not better.
"No, I was just... watching."
G'raha smiles a smile that is as warm as it is groggy.
"Seekers are known to enjoy a good nap in the sun if that's what you're confused about."
Ah. Well, he did know that, but it seems that G'raha has not caught on, which is good.
"Unless..." he says, still smiling.
"You would like to join me?"
It seems Eyra has been found out. He keeps up the blank expression he always wears, while mentally scrambling for an excuse.
"I would appreciate the company, if you would wish to." He offers, raising the blanket (well, extremely baggy sleeping bag, but small difference). He is wearing naught but his smallclothes under there, and Eyra can't help but try to memorize every detail.
G'raha laughs, and beckons Eyra with his other hand.
He obeys, lowering herself to the ground and pulling off his long leather kneeboots. He tries to crawl into bed, but G'raha stops him.
"No no, we both know where those clothes have been. I will have no strange thing's blood in my sleeping bag, thank you very much." He motions to the inside of his (quite spaicious) tent, and Eyra can see a pile of clothes messily folded in the corner.
Eyra enters the tent, and strips off his pants and bliaud once the cover is fastened. He wraps the garment around his waist before stepping out, and throws it back inside the tent once his legs are inside the bag.
As he pulls himself further in, it feels like being immersed in warm water after a long day, like the southernmost parts of the eastern sea.
He lowers himself until his feet touch the bottom, which is just when the hem of the bag comes up to his neck. He can feel G'raha's feet in front of him, the smaller man's lower end almost a fulm higher than his when their heads are level. Though it seems G'raha is moving down slightly.
Eyra starts to say something, but melts as soon as G'raha puts his arms around his midsection and buries his face in his neck.
"I did not think you so shy that you would cover yourself up until the moment you could no longer, Warrior." He teases gently.
In truth Eyra is not, his tribe did not teach him to be ashamed of his body like these westerners are, but after several humiliating experiences when he was yet new to Eorzea, he thought it best to err on the side of caution.
Not that his jelly brain could string together such a complex idea into a sentence right now.
Instead he just grunts, and relishes the feeling of the man in his arms
G'raha chuckles quietly, and rubs his cheek against Eyra's collarbone, making his mind and body soften even more.
"Wow. It seems like you really needed this. Isn't that right, my Warrior?" G'raha asks soothingly, his tail curling around Eyra's slim thigh. Eyra has never wished for an additional appendage more.
He has no idea how right he is.
Wait.
"'Your' Warrior?" He manages to inquire.
G'raha pulls back a little, and Eyra feels like crying.
"I apologize greatly Eyra, I-I just thought that, what with how you've been acting around me, and now this, that you might want... well, you know. I'm sorry for being so presumptuous."
He looks heartbroken, his normally playful expression pushed into a shaky frown by the sudden perceived rejection.
Eyra decided that he will do whatever it takes to never see that expression again.
He pulls himself foreword, and slots G'raha back into his previous position, earning an adorable squeak from the Miqo'te.
"S'fine," he mumbles.
"I think I like being your Warrior"
G'raha goes stock still for a moment as though processing what Eyra has said, before diving back into the snuggle, purring with pure joy.
Eyra is familiar with the phenomenon in concept, but has only seen it twice in practice, once after helping a Miqo'te dancer in Ul'dah track down a renowned teacher (after which she decided to do something else with her life, but the thought is still there.), and the second being from F'lhamin, upon reuniting with her daughter.
These experiences make it so he knows what is happening, but the exact details are still a mystery.
The lush rumbling seems to come from G'raha's throat, but his chest is also vibrating quite pleasingly. The sound is steady, not relying on breath like humming or talking would.
He should be freaking out about the previous exchange and its implications, but he's too relaxed and affectionate to care right now, luxuriating in the long-lost feeling of being held. so he just focuses on the sound and feel of his new partner(?)'s joy.
As he drifts off, he knows that they will have to wake up and move the bedroll back into the tent at some point, but he can't bring himself to care. Right now, he and G'raha are the only things in the whole world.