Talon watches Ezreal and Draven when they’re together. It’s not the half-guilty furtive stalking of a voyeur but a clear and obvious study of the two of them. He doesn’t look away if they look at him, just tilts his head to a side in acknowledgment that yes, he is there, and continues to observe them with his keen-eyed gaze.
Ezreal doesn’t like touching. He told Talon that. But he touches Draven, somehow, and even more impressive, he lets Draven touch him.
So Talon watches. Talon studies. Talon learns.
This is Ezreal leaning into Draven’s hand as Draven pets his hair. This is Ezreal not flinching when Draven grabs his ass. This Ezreal settling back against Draven’s chest as if Draven is a pillar or a wall, something solid and trustworthy.
This is Ezreal, unafraid of Draven’s advantage in height and weight and muscle. This is Ezreal smiling up at Draven as he’s touched, pressing up on his tiptoes to mash his mouth against Draven’s. This is Ezreal initiating touch.
Talon watches and Talon studies and Talon learns but the conclusion he comes to is damning.
Ezreal can tolerate Draven’s touch because Ezreal isn’t scared of him.