That same day, around mid afternoon they managed to get out of bed, after some quiet time half napping, half gently annoying each other. Though it was mostly Twisted Fate that annoyed Graves than the other way. It was peculiar, to get back to some kind of routine. Because they knew how it would go already. But that day was also quite specific. From their steps outside both could tell.

The reaver king was dead. Long may he reign. Well, he was supposed to be dead. Words ran saying so but as anything in Bilgewater, one had to be cautious. Twisted Fate wasn't really sure but after what they saw – and nearly died in – there was so small chance that Gangplank survived. But the bastard was tough, everyone new it.

Till then, Bilgewater was in chaos. Most than usual. The semblance of authority was gone and already many came lurking for the occasion to take some glory and power. Words about Captain Fortune, having seized the occasion to step into the game. But the path would be long. Now each gang had its potential.

Anyway, this wasn't exactly their business. Sure, many offers would arive soon but this would also mean that many heads would fall. Better stay low while it was going.

Also, they had to go to Piltover, for Graves to find a new weapon. So double benefit. They would dodge this troubled time and have some fun in the fancy city.

So they left for Piltover, not a glance back since they already got each other.

On another topic, it was calm between them. Warming up to each other, after that cruel separation. Twisted Fate was fast to return to chat and sass but for the latter it took a little more time. Not really cold but more reserved. Like in that short time when he wasn't sure what to feel about his new partner. Though Graves let a lot of things to happen. Didn't seem to mind contact, since Twisted Fate started to come closer as he could. Kinda sweet. In quiet places, it wasn't rare to see him coming to Graves's side, an arm sneaking under that heavy cloak, to reach.

Learning each other's boundaries. Twisted Fate was good at this, playing at the limit and pushing a little to see where he wasn't supposed to go. The thing was, he didn't really expect Graves to allow so much. Basically, where they left before the Locker and else. So he carried on, maybe hoping that at one point he would say no. It never came.

Sharing a room was one of these old habits first taken back. Since the night after the reunion, it was silently stated that a second room wasn't useful. Twisted Fate would just break in anyway, or maybe knock at the door for once. In any case, Graves didn't really mind. It was curious, really. To let so close, so fast someone he spent years to hate. Without the good reason, he learned later.

But closeness came back fast, like the urge never really left.

Of course, it meant having to endure all the noise Twisted Fate made, comments and clever remarks. But compared to life in a cell, there was a curious kind of warmth, from hearing someone chat. He wasn't alone anymore. And like hell the latter would make him forget that.

If that was possible, he was less irritated by that constant noise. But he woudl never tell him or his life would be more difficult.

Waking up with someone else was an old but appreciated time. Even more since it was Twisted Fate. The man he took time to convince of love. To stay in the morning. In these instants, Graves could believe they were going to be fine. That indeed love was coming back. Need to reach, touch, kiss. Almost a surprise to feel this again. Oh he liked that fucker. Despite everything, his own down and their terrible reunion. A little spark of regrets, for harming him even in a minimal amount compared to the rest of that night.

Words, resonating in his mind. Coming back to Twisted Fate. Really, he never expected to cry for that. But since both did, he wasn't too ashamed. Truly, it was a stab, to sense such honest regrets from Twisted Fate. Holding tight, never letting go. A proof they were both sadly impacted by the consequences of the heist. Both mourned the loss.

Cautious hand over his sleepy partner, pressed to his chest, trying not to disturb. But words were loud in his mind. Need to reach. No question about that urge, it would be useless. It was strange to seek that safety. Now they could go on, return to their previous life. Together. Metaphorical peace.

« Malcolm. I was sleeping. » It came up without warning, low words.

Ah, shit.

Though Twisted Fate didn't seem too upset, moving into the embrace to look at him. Like asking silently.

« Sorry. Didn't want to wake ya. » As form of apology, he bent slightly and gave a kiss. Returned without hesitation.

« I know. Doing fine ? » Whisper after parting, showing how Twisted Fate was in his privacy. Just a man.

Since the latter was awake, Graves was free to move without guilt. Sat up in bed, stretching.

They weren't to Piltover yet but they would make it soon. For now, they stayed at an inn, like many they visited before. Jsut the best place to have a proper bed.

Then he felt a hand against his back, soft touch. Tensing as reflex, for a reason. Ah. Right now he had his back to Twisted Fate, so he noticed. The mark. Not exactly at the center of his back but there nonetheless. Graves tensed a little, for the pain it always brought. Not even physical, but more psychological.

But he didn't move nor tried to hide it. There was no use. Just a very bad reminder of this time in the Locker. Merely let this held breath out.

« Don't touch it. »

« …Yes, of course. I imagine this still hurt ? »

So both acknowledged it. Graves turned his head, when the heard the latter moving to sit up too. Now two hands on his back. Never going around the mark but without a doubt registering any details. Lingering on skin, with care. He wasn't really used to that. To gentleness, even less coming from Twisted Fate. But both knew what the mark meant. The latter would never experience it but he could imagine how horrible it was to have flesh engraved for a tasteless reminder.

« Yeah. » Couldn't let emotion meddle in this right now, or it would break free. Anyway, this was around a decade old. Scarred enough, almsot used to it. No use in dwelling on that.

Quiet shuffling from behind then Twisted Fate joined his side, an arm pulling him by the waist so they could hug. Again, something very soft that left Graves a little confused but he would get used to it. The latter then moved on his lap and took him in his arms, holding closer to him.

Okay. Nice.

Here was exactly all it took for Graves to return in that couple thing. Small details, slow reaching, silent embraces. Everything told Twisted Fate's honesty. That well-versed liar, used to games and tricks. Graves came to understand that as much as he lied, there wasn't a lot he could hide in his actions. Love wasn't something so easy to fake for him.

Now, each display was more intimate than what they used to do before. Not really voiced, maybe for shyness or mere need to give this meaning. After all, Twisted Fate himself took some time to come in term with his feelings. Now it was clear for him and he could show it more than before.

Graves returned the hug, holding the latter pressed to him as show of acceptance. Because it was all that mattered. To let him come closer again.