Chapter Text
Heisting for Malcolm Graves and Tobias Fate was never out of the ordinary for them. Even if the outcome of their mischief was mediocre, to their standards it was the best they could do. The well respected Bilgewater duo, or as they themselves call a ‘partnership,’ is a lot less intimidating when their seemingly child-like behavior and borderline irrational methods of their heists come to light. Nonetheless, the two idiot pirates always manage to escape with their lives, save for the “en-cee-dint,” as Graves calls it, which shall never be named ever again.
However, this time, Bilgewater didn’t really have anything in store for the boys. With a few twists and turns (as well as some bribery and threatening), they managed to sneak their way on a ship that was allegedly set sail to Piltover, full of whatever strange substances those fancy-pants needed. The ship was quite dingy, with a distinct smell of chemicals that made Tobias scrunch up his nose reflexively while he was looking out the window of the lower floor. The absence of Graves’ shotgun was much more noticeable in the ship; the physical features of Graves standing out significantly more than it should have. By some miracle, Tobias convinced him to leave the weapon behind in favor of being stealthy for their heist mission.
“Don’tcha think it’s just a lil suspicious that those Piltover people need this much of.. whatever this substance is,” asked Tobias, not really directing his question towards Graves, looking out the empty underwater view through the circular window. There was a tinge of blood he could see on the bottom of the window; perhaps a fight broke out in this very room.
“Naw, I’ve seen a good pair of barrels twice the size of these fellers. Missy Fortune oughta have a looksie here though, she’d prob’ly make bank here,” With that response, Tobias moved away from the small window to peek inside the barrel. Even with the dim lighting, he was able to make out a faint purple substance. It didn’t look very appetizing, if one was meant to drink it in the first place.
“Yeah I- urgh,” came Tobias’ immediate reaction to a whiff of whatever chemicals were in that concoction, looking towards his partner. “Not the most pleasant scent I’ve smelled, that’s for sure.”
Graves snorted with a hint of concern, almost a little exaggerated to what he just witnessed his witty partner doing. “Awh c’mon Tobias, you should know better than to sniff a bunch of weirdo-fizzy mixture,” although he did notice Tobias looking a bit nauseated. The bulkier man felt a miniscule amount of regret saying something like that with so much puncture. Without looking at his partner, he displayed that aforementioned concern. “..you okay, buddy?” Tobias immediately looked away and back at the window, his self-awareness evidently checked out when he noticed himself getting a bit tomato-red at the word ‘buddy.’ He’d never admit it, not even to himself, but he liked being called buddy by Graves. One would even say he loved it.
“Sure- I mean, fine. I’m fine,” replied Tobias. He suddenly wished that he’d get a slap to the face after that abomination of a reply he just blurted out. Graves being Graves, paid no mind to the obvious change in manner of speaking.
“Good. Can’t have ya dying on me, I’ll be damned if I can’t get m’hands on ‘nother one of your cards. Oh sweet Tommy Kench, where’d I put that thing,” said Graves, as he stumbled around himself to find the misplaced blue card. His muscular arms stretched around to find the card, accidentally putting on a show of his attractive physique for Tobias. The way Graves’ blue shirt and overall buckles tightly held the larger man’s ever-so slightly puffy chest made Tobias’ already blushing exterior intensify by a hundred times, making the latter instinctually put his hand over his eyes. From the incident before with Bombolini, it became crystal clear that Graves’ taste in men was not at all conventional, although it had a clear pattern: a familiar kind of beefy that encompassed Graves. In no way was Tobias skinny or considered underweight; he was clearly in between the spectrum of male form, but he knew for one thing certainly that he was not at all his partner’s type. It lingered longer than Tobias wanted the thought to, trapping him inside his own thoughts. Why can’t he just let his teenage-like crush pass by? What’s wrong with him? Why is he still looking at-
“A-HA! Gotcha now.” said Graves, looking proud about his mini-scavenger hunt he just completed. Conveniently, he interrupted the silence that entangled Tobias in an invisible, negative aura. What was even more convenient was the ship, which just docked on Piltovan ground.
The duo looked at each other, silently nodding towards each other and agreed to not cause a ruckus, which surprised Tobias, considering how unprepared Graves can be. Nevertheless, they focused on getting the hell out of the ship cargo. They swiftly dodged the sights of tired guards, who appeared to be quite underpaid and not well kept, judging purely by the quality of their uniforms. That was typically the case with simple jobs in Piltover.
It seemed like their plan was working too well. That was never a good sign for them. Sooner or later, Graves is probably going to get caught in the stupidest way possible and Tobias will throw a red card by accident. That’s a lot more like the situations they get thrown in.
Once the schemers exited the docks of Piltover, they were greeted with an empty street, accompanied by the bright lamp posts shining on the sidewalk. The moon was out - a half moon - and the posh buildings were mostly dark. The cardmaster took a decently long stare at the half moon, wondering if it foreshadowed the seemingly inevitable ending where his partner would leave him again. At this point, he thought to himself, he ought to die than to be without Graves. Without his fluffy facial hair, or the way he aggressively hugs him, or the way he talks with absolutely no filter, or the cute way his wonderful blue eyes looks at the card Tobias handed to h-
Shit. I’m doin’ it again, he thought to myself. He can’t stop thinking about the thousands of worlds where he can proclaim that he ‘like-likes’ his partner, as Graves would call it. Perhaps one of the worlds Tobias imagined is this one.
“Ho-ho.. now this is what we’re ‘boutta rob. We’re gunna be rich after our lil trip, ain’t that right Tobias,” said Graves, who interrupted Tobias’ lucid thoughts yet again, this time with a moderately heavy elbow nudge. Probably for the best anyways, as to keep focus on the heist.
His better half scoffed, “Settle down pardner, still got a long way to go. ‘Fore the actual thing, I’ll need the map we got from that creepy ol’ lady.”
“Yeah yeah, don’tchu worry one bit. I gots it right here.” He reached down into one of his deeper, hidden pockets, one Tobias has never seen before in the twenty years of reuniting with the burly man. He guessed that it was for a pretty good reason.
“Much oblig- th’fuck did’cha do to this paper, Malcolm?” He held up the incredibly wrinkled ball of paper with two fingers like a dirty napkin for a good ten seconds, hesitating on whether or not he should open the paper to protect his hygiene.
“Whadaya mean? Looks perfectly fine t’me.”
“If ‘fine’ is a borderline wet and wrinkled disgusting ball of paper, I betcha didn’t even take a shower like I asked ya to.”
“For the record mister-soap-man,” with childish jazz-hands alongside the insult, “I had to stuff that piece o’ junk in m’underpants when we left the nice lil lady’s shop. If anyone saw us in broad daylight with that ol’ map of ours, some creep could be followin’ us for the money! See, y’gotta think like a criminal to protect yourself from them lowlifes, brother.”
Tobias had a little shiver at the word ‘brother,’ but shook it off rather quickly in the midst of their married-couple-like bickering. “‘Kay, fine. But seriously Malcolm, your underwear? How ‘bout you unwrinkle the map instead, my friend.” The leaner man handed over the map to the larger, who visibly expressed his displeasure of the rather condescending tone Tobias used against him.
“Mmph. Fine. A’least I don’t dislike the scent of my underpants.”
I wouldn’t too, immediately thought Tobias. He had to triple-check to make sure that wasn’t said out loud.
Once Graves unwrinkled the extremely unhygienic map, he spread the paper out on a dimly lit bench for the both of them to look at. Even through the myriad of wrinkles and suspicious stains on the map, Tobias was still able to figure out where they were headed to start their professional robbery.
“Just a couple more streets up and we should be there. We got plenty of time, so no need to rush. Let’s get a move on,” proclaimed Tobias, his affection for his partner being the sole reason why he didn’t want to rush - the combination of moonlight and street light simply highlighted the features of Graves.
After crumpling up the map again, the latter male raised a somewhat inquisitive eyebrow to the part where there wasn’t a ‘need to rush,’ as it was pretty out of character for their dynamic to take things slow, especially when walking was involved. For once, perhaps he could use this brief moment of time slowing down to have a slightly deeper discussion with Tobias.
The leisurely walk started as awkward, to say the least. The two men stared at everything except at each other for at least half of the way to the destination; the tension was palpable, thick enough to be cut smoothly with a knife. The street lights continued to occasionally shine on top of their heads, neither Bilgewater criminal giving a damn of whether or not an owl in the night would spot them. For the first time in a while, the duo was able to keep the peace between them for an extended period of time. The quiet and almost silent atmosphere dissipated the awkward tension.
But, of course, the silence was broken with the distinct voice of Graves, who began to twiddle his index fingers attempting to find the right words to start his sentence.
“Sooooo.. uh. Ahem .” He chose to exaggerate the ‘ahem,’ though it was a bit too theatrical to his liking. “It’s.. uh. A beautiful night for them Pilties here, ain’t it?”
Neither moonlight nor street light could reveal the grin that spread on Tobias’ face, who couldn’t get over the fact that Graves, of all people, is actually using a filter on what he’s saying. With a decently strong inhale and exhale, Tobias looked back at Graves. “Y-yeah. It really is.” The former could swear he saw a twinkle in Graves’ blue eyes when they locked eyes, albeit, lasting for less than half a second. The two kept walking for a while, neither being aware of the fact that both of them walked at a significantly slower pace to appreciate the fantastical aura around them.
“So Tobias, I was thinkin’,” uh oh. Here comes the ‘I was thinking’ starter line Tobias secretly hated. Only because it usually ended up with Graves talking about his ex-boyfriends. “Did’cha think Bombolini seriously thought we were.. ya know? Together? Like, together-toget-”
“Malcolm, I already said so back there. Yes, he did,” replied Tobias with a rather frustrated tone. Graves took note of that, but not like he’d do anything with that information given the awkward circumstances.
“But, but I ain’t ever seen you with a guy before.” The end of Graves’ sentence sort of trailed off with traces of uncertainty and curiosity, the latter emotion not being the most obvious.
The typically well-postured and composed man just lost both of those characteristics at once. Has Graves never known that his partner in crime had always been into both men and women? Confusion, surprise, and a tinge of disappointment flooded Tobias’ mind, as he kept searching for a reason why Graves never thought of the possibility that someone can be bisexual.
“Malcolm. Just ‘cause you’ve only ever seen me court women before does not mean I’m straight,” replied Tobias. The words were sharp, yet spoken slower than usual, much to Graves’ amusement of the revelation that one could be attracted to more than one gender.
“O-oh. I see,” said Graves. He had a deep red blush that Tobias took note of in the moonlight, which could mean many things in the grand scheme of things. One of them led to a wildly inappropriate idea - thankfully, he was used to crushing his dreams anyways. “Sorry, I guess ‘ts just that I never knew yo-,'' He instinctively cut himself to avoid emotionally hurting Tobias, which the latter had taken note of quickly to be severely out of character. “ Someone could.. like-like more than just a gal or a guy.” The shock in Tobias wasn’t expressed visibly, but it was certainly a nice surprise that Graves felt remorse for such a dumb question. That same dumbness is definitely what makes Tobias adore having Graves by his side, though.
Graves continued on with his awkward jumble of words to get his message across. “So, do you like-like both..?” It was an awful display of cuteness that Tobias got to witness firsthand.
Tobias audibly sighed, much to the dismay of Graves. “Yes, Malcolm. I do,” as he announced with a quick head turn to the complete opposite direction of Graves, in addition to subconsciously placing his left hand behind his head.
The truth, and he would never admit such a thing, is that Graves had always relished in the attractive features of Tobias, especially ever since the aftermath of the explosion with Bombolini. Tobias playing with his hair was essentially the straw that broke the camel’s back; the mountain of repressed affection for the leaner man multiplied by the day. He always appreciated his fashionable coat and hat, his well-kept facial hair, and the meticulous way he handles his cards. It makes for a devilishly charming and handsome man - not to mention the connoisseur-esque aura making for a considerably terrible taste in men, yet again. Graves pretty much confirmed that Bombolini was right.
With this newfound information Graves acquired, which is evidently useless in a scenario where they’re trying to heist, there exists the possibility of a chance . A chance that Tobias would potentially, possibly, perhaps, maybe.. ‘like-like’ him back.
No. He couldn’t ruin the partnership he had. It was awkward enough having to walk with Tobias on what was supposed to be a short route to the house they were about to rob at 2:39 in the night.
Thankfully, Tobias and Graves had found a reason to cease their dancing around each other, as they had finally approached the entrance of a significantly more fancy than usual house. One might even say it belonged to a clan or elite group of individuals in Piltover.