Chapter Text
Graves had never been exactly clingy but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be at times, and ordinarily Tobias didn’t mind.
But as soon as he woke up, the first thing he noticed was how unbearably hot he felt. The second thing was the weight on his chest. Groggily, Fate opens his eyes and looks down only to be met with the sight of his partner, sprawled across him.
He was snoring- Tobias could feel it more than he could hear it. Graves didn’t often sleep peacefully, at least not as much as he used to, but when he did, he slept like a rock. Practically dead to the world. Fate‘s brain sluggishly tries to catch up with the situation- first he’s happy to see the other so serene- and then he realises that that’s exactly why he feels like he’s cooking alive.
And so, he’s met with a dilemma.
Does he wake his partner up- tearing him from a restful sleep and disturbing him- or does he let himself melt? Obviously he doesn’t want to wake Graves up, especially not when he looks so content, but he’s in an uncomfortable position to say the least. Graves sometimes reminds him of a huge dog that doesn’t quite know its own size. Very eager to cuddle- but completely oblivious to how much space they take up.
Fate doesn’t dislike it at all, he loves Malcolm, and loves how broad he is. The only issue is that he runs hot and manages to almost entirely smother Tobias, and the combination of those factors leads the black haired man to the conclusion that yes- for his own sake- he needs to wake him up.
The arm that Malcolm is resting on is completely numb and tingles with unpleasant pins and needles, leading Fate to reach over with his free hand. Gently, he tries to shake his shoulder, only succeeding in causing the other to stir and grumble something under his breath incoherently.
“Malcolm…” Fate mumbles, trying to shake him again. “You’re cooking me alive, Mal…” he chuckles softly, prompting Graves to frown slightly, eyes still screwed shut. “Mind scooching over a little?” He keeps his voice quiet, and tone light, trying to ease Graves into it. God knows he can be stubborn.
“Don’t want to.” Graves mumbles sluggishly, and Tobias, though slightly disgruntled, can’t say he didn’t expect that. “You can deal with it.” His words are slurred in his half asleep state, making it hard for Fate to actually be annoyed more than he is simply endeared.
“Come on Mal, it’s too hot for this.” Tobias urges, uncaring of how whiny he might sound. Graves opens his eyes solely to glare at his partner, but both men know it’s playful, especially once Graves relents and shuffled aside, lying beside Fate rather than on top of him.
“You know Tobias,” he begins, voice still heavy and slightly raspy with sleep. “If you don’t want me to use you as a mattress you gotta stop being so comfortable. ”
Fate laughs, “Comfortable?” That’s news to him, he’s not exactly skin and bones but he’s certainly not soft either. His angles are sharp and defined and he’s willing to bet Graves can feel it. “If anyone’s comfortable to lie on, it’s you. ”
“Are you calling me fat?” Graves asks teasingly, pouting in mock offense. “You’re so mean to me.”
“Even if I was , it’s not exactly an insult.” It’s simply a descriptor and true to an extent. While Graves’ build was certainly packed with muscle, there was a layer of softness to him, and Fate loves it. He remembers when they’d first renewed their partnership, Graves took up so little space, it was jarring. It was a stark contrast to the present, which is significantly preferable “You know you’re not as bony as me, you’re better suited for the task.”
Graves hums in consideration, maybe even agreement before asking. “Want to test the theory?”
It’s not exactly a theory, they’ve done it a million times before, but Fate is hardly going to correct him. In fact he’d be eager to do it, if not for the fact that he was still too hot. “Maybe another time, when I don’t feel like a lobster in a pot.”