Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Oz... are you drunk?"

"Not as such. Though I'll admit that the night is still young."

There was a somewhat disapproving silence on the other end of the line, which frankly Ozpin didn't think Glynda was in a position to give, not when she still retained the title "Shot Queen" well into her 30s. Then again, he supposed the admission might seem a bit maudlin from her perspective, considering that he so rarely indulged. Perhaps he should consider cutting back a bit.

...or not. Ozpin poured himself more wine. He'd already opened the bottle after all. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.

There was a distinctive sigh on the other end of the line. "Is this about our trip?"

"Trip? What trip?"

"You know what trip, Oz."

"Mm. I'm afraid I don't."

"You—" Glynda bit off whatever she was going to say and Ozpin smiled down into the curve of his glass. "Christmas? Atlas ski resort? Any of this ringing a bell?"

"Ah that trip. I'd forgotten all about it."

"You're a godawful liar, Oz."

Perhaps he was, but considering that this did have everything to with their annual outing, Ozpin wasn't feeling inclined to admit as much. All it would lead to was a series of lies on Glynda's part—many of which she was spouting now, actually. How lovely.

"—will be fun," she was saying and alone in his apartment Ozpin freely rolled his eyes. "You need a break, Oz. Some downtime. I know you've felt a bit like a third wheel the last few years, but—"

Third wheel? More like the literal seventh. There had been a time years ago when Ozpin had thoroughly looked forward to Beacon Academy's holiday retreat. After all, he'd been the one to start the tradition. Theirs was a small school, rich in both resources and intimacy, and Ozpin thought it best that the faculty get to know one another outside of the constraints of academia; to help foster friendships that would benefit both them and their students. What better way to achieve that than through a holiday vacation? He'd hardly expected that they'd approve of his suggestion with such vigor, or that his one, planned trip would turn into an annual event. Yet here they were, and my how things had changed.

You're an old man, Glynda had told him once, back when they were still young enough to get carded and mistaken for their students. Stuck in your ways and stubborn as a mule. Going to start telling the kids to get off your lawn soon?

Well that was just mean. Though Ozpin couldn't deny that the addition of a white head of hair and a cane hadn't helped his image. He was a man who indeed liked things as he’d become accustomed to them—who could fault him for that? And he'd liked their vacations back in their simplicity, thank you very much.

Back before they'd become rather sports oriented, conversation and board games turning into god-awful ski outings. Back before his friends had all partnered up and left—

Ozpin sighed. No. They hadn't left him. Merely found others to share their time and love with. He recognized, of course, the jealousy that fueled his mood. He wasn't blind and Ozpin knew that in this, at least, he was acting less the old man than the child.

...he also recognized that he well and truly didn't care. 

Though perhaps that was the wine talking.

"I'm sorry," Ozpin said, rubbing at his eyes. He left his glasses askew and slipped further down into his chair, pulling his legs up and curling socked toes. "I'm just feeling a little maudlin tonight. The trip will be wonderful, I'm sure. I'm quite looking forward to it." He mustered up a smile despite the fact that Glynda obviously couldn't see it. Maybe a bit of that would seep into his voice though.

"Still a terrible liar," he thought he heard, but Glynda said it too quietly to be sure. "Just go easy on the drinking tonight, okay? We both know you're a complete lightweight. Going to get blown away by the next stiff breeze."

"Not with another stiff drink to fortify me," he muttered and this time the smile was genuine. Ozpin leaned his chin in his free hand and gazed fondly down at his iPhone. No, the vacation wouldn't be all bad. Not so long as he had Glynda to torment him. "I promise not to indulge too much. I'll be right as rain come tomorrow morning. Headmaster's promise."

"Mmm," Glynda didn't sound convinced and oddly that made Ozpin's smile grow wider. He eyed the dregs in his glass. Perhaps he'd already had more than he realized...

Glynda said more things to him then, about packing appropriately and not bringing work with him because this was meant to be a vacation, and the true irony was that all of this was relayed in the tone of a woman leading the dullest board meeting on the face of god's green earth. Honestly. Had his head been less fuzzy Ozpin would have felt guilty about tuning her out. As it was, he'd become rather enthralled with the limitless images of puppies he could pull up online.

Warm brown eyes and floofy ears filled his vision. "You can't adopt them all," Ozpin whispered. 

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." Ozpin clicked out of the shelter's website before tipsy him could get sober him in trouble. "Look, I promise to dress warmly, carry cash, and eat a good breakfast before I leave. Honestly, Glynda, are you my friend or my mother?"

A distinctive huff was heard down the line. "Both, considering how well you take care of yourself."

Rude.

"I will be fine. Go share a drink with Pamela. It's an excellent way to begin our vacation; can't recommend it enough."

My, my was that a chuckle he heard? Wonders would never cease.

"Perhaps," Glynda conceded. There was a faint murmur in the background that Ozpin could only assume was Pamela herself. A laugh followed; the smack! of an overly enthusiastic kiss.

It sounded as if they'd be skipping the drinks entirely. Just don’t wake the kids…

"I'll leave you to it," he said, but Glynda was already giving a hurried goodbye of her own. The line went dead and Ozpin was left staring at his phone, suddenly feeling bereft.

"Goodnight," he sighed.

And just like that whatever giddy feelings he'd accumulated evaporated. Without Glynda's voice Ozpin's apartment was too silent, too cold, and it was with clumsy fingers that he brought up iTunes, not caring what played provided that it was long and loud. A rather upbeat rendition of "Jingle Bells" began and he winced. Ozpin poured a bit more wine. He'd be finishing the bottle soon.

At least alcohol helped with how cold it had gotten. Which was strange, considering that he had the heat turned up, a fisherman's sweater on, and two blankets piled high in his lap. Icy fingers shook a bit as he navigated his trackpad and Ozpin acknowledged that, perhaps, the feeling was more emotional than physical.

Glynda had someone to turn to tonight. He only wished he had the same. Somehow, Ozpin was sure that the presence of another human body—a simple pair of arms around his waist—would succeed in warming him as blankets and sweaters never could. Was a companion really so much to ask for? He knew he was... difficult at times. Not quite what others would look for in a partner. Ozpin was well aware that his colleagues outclassed him in looks, interests, even wealth when it came to James, and it made sense that they would find husbands and wives long before him. He understood. And yet...

"Maudlin hardly covers it," Ozpin said aloud, disgusted with his own thoughts. "Honestly, man, buy yourself a cat and get over it."

That was still a rather tempting possibility, especially with a buzz running through his veins. Normally Ozpin would never entertain the idea, given how little he was actually at home. His work at Beacon Academy kept him there at all manner of hours and, if he were to be frank, he didn't particularly like coming home to an empty apartment every night.

Although... it wouldn't be empty any more with some manner of pet, now would it? And weren't cats remarkably self-efficient? Yes, that logic was sound, and Ozpin was indeed a lightweight who'd had very little in the way of food today. Luckily there was a small part of his mind that still claimed this was a recipe for disaster...

Yet there his hand went, straying back to the rescue website, unbidden.

How unfortunate. 

His movements were clumsy though and Ozpin blinked when he was greeted not with adorable, fluffy faces, but a rather large headline instead.  It took his mind a moment to work through the fuzzy words and when it did,

"Rent a boyfriend," he read and Ozpin cracked a quick, flimsy giggle. "What?"

That's what it said though. He must have hit some stray advertisement because rather than Socks' page that he'd had bookmarked since June, there was a lengthy—and incredibly strange—announcement filling his screen. Ozpin took a lazy sip directly from the bottle, leaned his arms on the desk, and read on.

RENT A BOYFRIEND - CHEAP!

Are you alone this holiday season? Sick of your family asking when the hell you're going to land a date? ("Yes," Ozpin muttered). Want to tell your mom to stuff it when she asks about grandkids? Or are you just looking forward to screwing with your friends? Well, rent me for the weekend and make those holiday dreams come true!

I'm an ex-con, ex-alcoholic, ex-everything really with a mouth like a sailor when the moods upon me—the exact kind of guy your poor mother wanted you to stay far, far away from. I have a motorcycle, numerous piercings, and can look anywhere from 25 to 40 depending on my clothes and whether I shave. Don't worry though, for those of you looking for a more legit boyfriend experience I can clean the act up (within reason) and convince those grandparents of yours that maybe they actually will be getting great-grandkids within their lifetime. Depending on the package I am willing (and even eager) to:

• Start fights with your dad about how much I fucking hate Trump.
• Tell your parents we're expecting.
• Get incredibly drunk and embarrass the whole family. (Note: I don't drink anymore, but I'm great at faking it. Give me a solo cup of apple juice and we're good to go).
• Openly hit on the other guests - men, women, or otherwise.
• Pretend we've been dating for months and you never brought it up.
• Pretend you met me just a few hours ago. (The truth will set us free, yeah?)
• Have loud, fake sex with you in the hall closet.
• Have loud, fake sex with someone else in the hall closet. (Gotta trust them to keep the secret though.)
• Ask your father for your hand. Alternately: challenge your sibling to a duel.
• Propose to you. Publicly.
• Break up with you in the middle of dinner.
• Break up with you a few days later, either by phone or text.
• Have you break up with me. I'm an excellent crier.

All of this and more is yours for the very cheap price of $19.99 in three installments! Just kidding. All I require is the free food and a good time. Any added incentives (trips, gifts, some of your grandma's leftovers) are appreciated but by no means required.

The only hard and fast rule? THIS STAYS PLATONIC, PEOPLE. I'm fake dating you, not real dating you. Don't get the two confused. I have gotten restraining orders before and I will do it again.

Beyond that, everything is up for discussion. I'm open to 'dating' anyone, regardless of gender, race, whatever. If you're interested in a strange man and his strange way of brightening the holiday season, go ahead and fill out the form below. Be quick though. The season is upon us and I'm in high demand ;)

Ozpin stared at the screen.

Again—what?

He'd worked his way slowly through the mess of information, sipping all the while from his bottle. By the time he'd reached the end the wine was gone and more of those giggles were bubbling in the center of his chest. This was why he rarely drank in front of others. Especially after James’ wedding, good heavens. But, as he'd so painfully been reminding himself, there was no one to keep Ozpin company tonight, and tomorrow's trip still rankled.

In his inebriated state, he could admit to being... interested. Not in actually hiring this man, of course not... but he could be curious, couldn't he? Dogs and cats were forgotten as Ozpin's clumsy hand clicked the link to the form instead, his sluggish mind applying 'adoption' to this odd fellow and finding that hilarious as well.

"Oh my," Ozpin murmured. The form was long.

He really was only curious, but Ozpin found himself mentally answering each question he came across, and if he was doing that it wouldn't hurt to type some things out as well, yes? It entertained him, and Ozpin was soon humming along to the carols that still played, feeling more jolly than he had in weeks. His name and address? Easy. Likes and dislikes? Well, he wasn’t very fond of brussel sprouts. There was actually more here than Ozpin was comfortable admitting to. So many questions about stupid, foolish things. Who wanted to read so much about him? He was boring. This man though, he was funny. The questions were entertaining all on their own. Couldn't Ozpin know more about the author?

....you could if you hired him.

Ozpin snorted. Preposterous. 

He was fading though, and fast. The rest of that wine had hit him hard and Ozpin blinked, feeling the sort of deep-seated tiredness that only ever came from drinking. But he wasn't one to leave something unfinished, even something silly like this, so he scrolled quickly through the rest of the form, providing one-word answers or inarticulate phrases. It would be worth reading through this in the morning, if only to provide himself with a self-deprecating laugh before he left. The final question asked for a photo and Ozpin scowled at it, finally copying and pasting the generic image from Beacon's website. It was a horrific thing that, as Bart had once rightly pointed out, made him seem far more serious than he actually was, but Ozpin wasn't in the habit of accumulating photos of himself. That one would have to do. 

There.

He felt a stupid sort of thrill having completed the form.  Finishing tasks was soothing. And oddly, Ozpin felt warm now. Rather toasty, in fact. Cocooned in his blankets, legs tucked up on the chair…his bed was too far away and his desk, meanwhile, looked surprisingly comfortable. Ozpin lay his head down, cushioned on one arm. His other was splayed haphazardly across his laptop keyboard.

Ozpin slept, completely unaware that his wayward arm had already pressed 'enter.'

The form was on its way.

***

The next morning was about as cheerful as a now hungover Ozpin could have expected. 

Funny thing about falling asleep on desks: they didn't lend themselves to nice awakenings. Especially when one didn't set an alarm.

Ozpin normally considered himself to be a sophisticated, even facetious man, but everyone had their off days. His twenty-four hours were still going hard as Ozpin woke and immediately began cursing up a storm. There was an empty bottle—no, two bottles?—beside his clock reading 10:00am. And Ozpin had a 12:20 flight. 

"Give me strength," he muttered. There was no time to look through whatever foolishness he’d invested in the night before. He slammed his laptop closed and grabbed the charger, hissing as he tried to stand and finding that his leg had missed the message about waking up. In the next hour he did none of the things he vaguely promised Glynda he would. Ozpin forewent breakfast in order to grab a hasty shower. His packing consisted of throwing random necessitates into his suitcase; he could buy anything else he needed there. Not with cash though. There was no time to stop by an ATM. Ozpin grabbed his coat, ancient scarf, and hoofed it out the door. He stood blindly on the sidewalk for a moment, teeth clenched in frustration. It had snowed last night.

Perhaps some would see that as a lovely, festive detail. Ozpin gripped tight to the head of his cane and prayed he wouldn't slip.

Not everything was out to get him this day though. Ozpin made it to the subway with both feet firmly on the ground. The trains were on time (a miracle in and of itself), his flight was delayed, but that allowed Ozpin to get through security with minutes to spare. He didn't breathe again though until he was actually seated on the plane, crammed between the window and an exhausted looking businessman. Ozpin knew the feeling well.

There'd been talk of catching a flight together, but Bart and Port had wanted to arrive a few days early—no doubt to have some time to themselves first—Glynda and Pamela had booked tickets far in advance, and heaven only knew what James' plans were. Ozpin fully expected him to materialize out of the snow with Winter on his arm, the two of them looking immaculate even after hours of travel. Ozpin could only imagine what he looked like right now—haggard, rumpled, dusted with snow—but he was glad that there was no one around to see him in such a state. No one he'd see after this flight, anyway.

"You okay, man?"

Ozpin blinked at the voice. Someone had paused in the middle of the aisle, holding up all the other passengers and causing a bit of a stir. The man didn't move though and Ozpin felt his cheeks heating. He kept his gaze firmly on the seat in front of him and tried to even out his breathing; forced his hand to unclench from where it had been digging into his bad knee.

"I'm quite alright."

"You sure?" There was a faint, 'Move it, buddy!' from the front of the plane, but the guy held his ground. Ozpin still refused to look at him.

He took a deep breath; released is slowly. "Yes, thank you."

"Alright then," and there was something amused in the guy's tone. He moved on to everyone's relief and when Ozpin did finally turn, all he caught was a glimpse of black, messy hair.

How odd.

They took off without incident and as the hours waned Ozpin found his thoughts returning to the stranger. Yes, it was true that his head was pounding and his leg ached something fierce; he was cold and hungry and not quite looking forward to this trip, but that didn't give him the right to be unkind to others, particularly around the holidays. Especially when one expressed nothing but concern for him.

Ozpin leaned his head against the frigid window. "And this is why you're alone."

"Sorry?" The businessman pulled out his earbud, blinking.

"Ah, nothing. My apologies. Just... talking to myself."

And there was the look that Ozpin knew so well. He chuckled as the man's gaze skittered away. 

Perhaps he would use the back restroom later, see if he couldn't find the man on his walk and apologize for his rudeness. Or perhaps he'd wait behind when the plane landed and try to speak with him then. Ozpin's leg did ache though— as it always did in the cold—and by the time they were halfway through the trip waiting any longer just seemed foolish. He was exhausted, no doubt the man was too, and Ozpin could only make things worse by forcing his company on him during a time when it was not at all wanted.

He dragged himself off the plane as soon as he could. Ozpin hailed the first cab and within twenty minutes finally caught sight of Atlas Lodge. All thoughts of the stranger left his mind.

After all, the lodge was without compare. Oh, Ozpin knew there were larger, wealthier resorts out there, but this was the one he'd vacationed at as a boy and nostalgia was powerful indeed. Still, no one could deny that it was beautiful all on its own. The high stone walls had always looked like a castle to him and that image didn't diminish just because he'd gotten taller over the years. The sweeping grounds slopped up into the mountains where most would be spending their time, and to the left a thin path lead down into the village. That small space was the only link to civilization they'd have over the next few days and Ozpin found himself eager for when the cabs would disappear, leaving him feeling like he and the other guests were truly the only people left on Earth. Everything was, of course, dusted with snow, adding to the ethereal feel.

"It's something isn't it?" the cabbie said. Ozpin could only nod as he gazed out the window, feeling light for the first time all day.

"You been here before?"

"Many times, yes."

"Never gets old, does it?"

It certainly didn't. Ozpin was reminded why he continued this tradition despite his own, selfish complaints.

He was reminded more fully when a familiar mess of blonde hair caught his eye.

"Glynda!"

She was just inside the Lodge's entrance. Ozpin allowed the cabbie to set his bag by the doors and ignored the check-in counter entirely, making a beeline for the massive fireplace instead. There, Glynda leaned too close to the roaring blaze; Peter and Bart lounging in armchairs beside her.

Ozpin nearly tripped when he caught sight of Bart's hair.

"The semester's been over a week," he laughed, moving to touch the tips of green strands. "I leave my faculty alone for a few days and you do this?"

Bart was all grins, pulling Ozpin into a hug before Peter did the same. "In all fairness it wasn't meant to be green."

"Ha!" Peter side-eyed Bart over Ozpin's shoulder. "Then pray tell, what color were you going for, love?"

"You know, I'm not sure I can remember now..."

"Humph. Meaning you don't wish to say."

Ozpin shook his head. As if their party didn't already stick out like a sore thumb. Despite its size Atlas was a rather exclusive place, not the sort to cater to hyperactive men with green hair, or their exuberantly loud husbands. Not that the staff didn't know and love them well by now. The only one who did look like they belonged was Glynda, still leaning carefully against the stones of the fireplace. Unlike Bart and Peter's matching (and frankly appalling) holiday sweaters, she'd gone a little more classy with a simple red dress. Practical, but elegant. Just like her.

"You look marvelous," Ozpin said, coming forward to clasp her hand.

"You look like shit." Glynda retorted. She rose to kiss his cheek and whispered, "How much did you drink last night?"

Ozpin chuckled into her hair. "Enough to embarrass myself, no doubt. I... don't recall much, to be honest. Besides an urge to purchase myself a cat." He ignored Glynda's groan. "Was I terrible to you?"

"You never are," Glynda said, lightly smacking his arm. "Just a little pessimistic. You'll feel better after dinner and a decent night's sleep."

"No doubt."

In truth Ozpin was feeling better already... though his spirits did dip a bit when he realized half their party was still missing. "Where's Pamela?"

"She's—oh god."

Right at that moment Pamela skittered out of the hallway that lead to the elevators, looking very much like the cat that had just secured the canary. A second later James followed with Winter on his arm, the two of them wearing equally thunderous expressions. Ozpin could only imagine what his impish biology instructor had done to them now. Dressed in ripped jeans and a sweater filled with (stylish?) holes, Pamela managed to look even more out of place than Bart did. Watching her weave amongst the chairs to grab hold of Glynda's waist and try to dip her only solidified the image. As if he ever needed more proof that opposites supposedly attract...

"Sorry I was gone," Pamela said, smirking. "Kiss for my return?"

"Hardly." Glynda turned her head away, but Ozpin caught the smile there.

"Ozpin."

Ever formal, James extended his hand and Winter followed suit, the two of them dressed in white button-ups and perfectly pressed slacks. How they managed it, he’d never know.  

"Ozpin," Winter echoed. A single word and yet it carried more weight than anyone else would have caught. Winter was well aware of her status here; that she was—and hopefully would remain—the only Schnee to set foot in Atlas Lodge. The way she said his name, with just a small bit of warmth beneath the ice, expressed her gratitude. Ozpin nodded back, giving her hand a squeeze.

The moment passed by James, unnoticed. "It's good to see you. Hope vacation has been treating you well. However... please tell your instructors to act their age. I don't think 'room steals' is appropriate behavior for this establishment."

"You're welcome to tell her yourself," Ozpin said, well aware that Pamela could hear them both. "I've been trying unsuccessfully for, oh, five years now?"

She shrugged, unrepentant. "They have a better view."

"I paid for a better view, Pamela."

"Well I'm poor as fuck, James, how about you spread the love a bit?"

"Dear, we are not poor—"

As the six of them argued over whether Ozpin actually payed them enough (how oh how did the vacation start off like this?) Ozpin couldn't help but notice how they all paired off together, creating a perfect semi-circle with him on the outside. It wasn't a conscious gesture. It didn't even mean anything other than what his own anxious mind said it did...  but still.

Not that moping would get him anywhere. Enough of this.

Ozpin raised his hand for silence. He glared playfully out at the group. "There may or may not be holiday bonuses in the mail," he said. Peter and Bart gave a not so subtle high-five. "Honestly, you're worse than the students. And now I feel like I'm addressing students. Enough with the goody-goody act. I'm not the headmaster until Spring term starts..." Ozpin made a shooing motion until Pamela laughed, throwing herself into the nearest armchair as the others followed. Glynda hesitated just a moment, but Ozpin nodded back towards his bags. He needed to check in and get settled before anything else. A brief moment of respite; just a few minutes alone.

"Ozpin!"

The call startled him, mostly because everyone Ozpin knew was already right in front of him. Certainly everyone who called him by his first name and not "Professor," "Doctor," or "Headmaster." Even more intriguing: everyone was developing equal, comical looks of shock on their faces.

Ozpin felt like he was turning in slow motion. It allowed him to see his hailer from his peripheral vision first: a familiar shock of black hair.

"There you are," the man said. He was handsome—that much Ozpin's brain managed to catch—but nothing more, because all at once this stranger was outrageously close.

He grinned up at Ozpin, wolfish. "Sorry I'm late."

And to Ozpin's utter shock, he pulled him straight down for a kiss.

Chapter Text

"What the fuck," he heard Bart whisper.

Ozpin was thinking something much the same. Although, truth be told, his brain wasn't really forming coherent thoughts at all. Just a vague, panicky static that froze all his limbs in place and stilled the breath in his lungs.

He was being kissed. This man, this stranger, was kissing him. Not by much—just a quick peck on the lips, a warm hand around the back of his neck—but it was more than Ozpin had landed since college and he could feel his chest getting uncomfortably tight at the contact. He didn't know what to call the feeling exactly. It was something poised between needing to pull away and desperately wanting to push closer; but whatever it was, Ozpin swallowed the shaky whine that tried to escape. 

It was over in a second. One long, unimaginable second. The man drifted lips up to Ozpin's ear, scruff scratching at his own smooth cheek, and whispered,

"Chill out, yeah? You're going to give us away."

What?

The man stepped back—good? Bad?—but slung an arm low around Ozpin's waist. A small sound did escape him then and he jumped slightly at the contact, coming to face his shell-shocked group of friends as he did. The movement settled Ozpin against the other man's hips and he found himself frozen there, not unlike the proverbial deer in the headlights.

Yes. Death by car seem unimaginably welcome right now.

Bart was still stage-whispering various, profanity infused questions, gesturing wildly while Peter developed a rather unwelcome grin. Pamela was much the same, slapping a hand over her mouth in pure, unadulterated amusement. Winter and James remained remarkably stoic, though Ozpin's fuzzy brain noted the hand that had drifted up to press against Winter's chest, like she was some Victorian lady prone to fainting fits. Honestly. Ozpin was the one who should be fainting!

Glynda just looked... blank.

"Heh, I knew you were going to be a right bastard about this." The man nudged knuckles into Ozpin's side, causing another, vaguely distressed noise to emerge. "I knew you weren't going to get up the balls to tell them. Geez, Oz. Sorry about all this, fellas. And ladies. I'm Qrow, your secretive headmaster's boyfriend."

Oh my god. Boyfriend? Somewhere, deep in the back of Ozpin's mind, something not unlike a puzzle piece slotted into place. His whole body break out in a cold sweat.

Qrow felt it and tugged him closer. 

He then reached out his free hand. James was the first to have his manners kick in, stepping forward for a shake.

"Qrow...?" His eyes narrowed.

"Branwen. And sorry, you are?"

"James."

"Right, right, Jimmy wasn't it? Ozpin's told me all about you."

It was James' expression that knocked everyone out of their shock. No one had ever dared call him Jimmy before... but the furrow of his brow also said he couldn't swear Ozpin hadn't referred to him like that in private. It was while James was casting a considering look over Qrow's shoulder that Peter let out a booming laugh, coming to slap a meaty palm down on Qrow's shoulder.

"I knew it!" he said, voice loud enough that the few other guests still checking in looked over at their group. "I knew you were holding out on us! Ozpin, old boy, how dare you hide this specimen away."

Glynda came forward as well, far more reserved. "Yes. This certainly is a surprise..." Especially given last night, but the rest of that sentence dangled.

Ozpin didn't know what to say. What could he say? Secret boyfriend? The mere idea was so preposterous that he stifled a laugh, knowing damn well it would bubble out as hysteria. Yet here this man was; proclaiming as much and touching him. 

Qrow still hadn't released Ozpin's waist.

"—private," he was saying with a laugh, flapping a hand. "But you all know that. You wouldn't believe how long it took this guy to invite me over. Well, not too long.  We've only been dating a few weeks. But still, you know how Ozziekins can be..."

Glynda's eyebrows shot up into her hair as Bart choked on a laugh.

Unbidden, Ozpin's hand shot out to grab hold of Qrow's free wrist. He didn't even realize it was there until he felt warm cotton and skin stiffening beneath his palm.

"Qrow," Ozpin ground out. "Could I speak with you for a moment? Privately?"

"Sure, sure, anything you want, sweetums—hey!"

He couldn't look at his friends, so they remained a blur as Ozpin rushed past, practically dragging Qrow behind him. There was a conference room down the hall for those who had the time and money to conduct business on a ski trip. It was the holidays though, and Ozpin thankfully found it empty.

He slammed the two of them inside.

Qrow was still babbling.

"Hey—fuck—whoa there, buddy! I'm all for playing rough, but if you're going to get like that I'll take my services elsewhere."

Ozpin stilled, looking down at the wrist he was squeezing with, it appeared, bruising force. His hand flew off Qrow like he'd been branded and Ozpin felt a sharp pang of guilt in his stomach.

He ignored it.

"Your services?" he ground out. "I'm sorry, but who exactly are you and what gives you the right to call yourself my—my—" Ozpin couldn't even say it. He thought it though, and that thought turned his knees into jelly. Ozpin fairly collapsed into the nearest chair.

Odd though, he actually had a decent view of this Qrow guy now. Whatever Ozpin might have been picturing through the entirety of that stressful, ridiculous conversation, it wasn't this. Qrow looked... good. Handsome, in a rakish sort of way. The kind of looks appropriate for back alleys and bars. Or, in a word, the very kind of man that Ozpin could never hope to attract. That allure was muted though, just around the edges of Qrow's person, with the rest of him toned down to look like something more presentable. Ozpin took in the worn jeans; soft, red sweater, rawhide bracelets peeking out on his left hand; the streaks of gray in his hair that proved he was older than he looked at first glance. Ozpin stared rather dumbly up into Qrow's eyes, thinking that they almost looked red in this lighting.

"You’re joking, right?"

Qrow huffed once, not exactly amused, before going and locking the conference room door. He then grabbed another chair and swung it around so he could straddle it backwards. He cocked a thumb the way they'd come.

"You realize they're gonna think we're doing something other than talking, right?"

"Excuse me?"

"Holy shit you were serious!" Qrow suddenly grinned and slapped his thigh. "Either that or you're the greatest actor I've ever seen. Really though, don't tell me I fucked up my research somehow. You are Ozpin Pine, right? And you hired me for this gig?"

Ozpin opened his mouth to say he'd done no such thing... but a flimsy little memory stopped him. Last night was indeed a blur, and yet, there was something...

"Oh god," Ozpin whispered. He gripped the sides of his chair until his knuckles went white. "I... I believe I filled out some ridiculous form—"

"Rude."

"—but I hardly meant to... it didn't send, did it?"

Qrow nodded slowly. "Uh yeah, dude, it did. Got it last night. Look," and to Ozpin's horror he fished his cellphone out of his pocket, drawing up a vaguely familiar set of questions. It felt like something was constricting his throat as Qrow's thumb scrolled through it.

"Should have gone with my gut, huh? I knew something felt off about this one. Can't blame me though, lots of people have sent their requests in last minute. Holiday blues hitting full force, you know? And you're not the first to get drunk and give me some ridiculous answers. I almost tossed you out for those though—some people do send in joke requests—but a quick google search told me you were prestigious and shit, so." Qrow was back to grinning, giving an easy shrug that lifted the cut of his sweater. Ozpin found himself staring at Qrow's collarbones, though his mind fixed solely on,

"Answers?" he asked, hardly breathing the word.

Qrow snorted. "Yeeeeah. About those. You really didn't give me much to work with. Like, okay, 'Where did we meet?' You're supposed to help me come up with some bullshit story based on your haunts and stuff, not correct my fucking grammar."

"You spelled 'meet' with an 'a.' That's the food." Ozpin pointed sternly at the screen. "I'm not wrong."

"I'm not saying you're wrong, I'm saying you're an ass. Or here, 'What's your favorite foods?' 'Not Brussels sprouts?' How does that help me?"

"It helps you immensely!"

He didn't want to admit to this stranger—this Qrow—exactly how drunk he'd been and on exactly how little wine. Of course, that was hardly the issue here. Brussels sprouts and grammar? Good god, he was getting sidetracked.

Ozpin slashed both hands through the air, cutting off Qrow's next example. "Enough. It doesn't matter because as I've said, this was all some horrible mistake. You should leave immediately and I'll be sure to compensate you for your—"

"Do you really want me to?"

Ozpin snapped his mouth shut. Swallowed. "I..." Closed it again. When he could finally speak it came out sounding like an embarrassed frog's croak. "Why…why wouldn't I want you to leave?"

Qrow shrugged, rakish grin back in place. "Lot's of reasons, seems to me. What have you got to lose?" He started ticking things off on his fingers, more things than Ozpin was comfortable with, to be frank. "First of all, I don't need any compensation. Believe it or not I'm pretty well off; I just do this for the fun."

"Fun," Ozpin echoed.

"Two, I'm already here. Now yeah, sure, I could hoof it back home in this weather," Qrow gestured to the windows where swirls of snow drifted past, "but it would honestly be a pain. Especially with what it took to catch that damn flight in the first place. You didn't give me a lot of time to prep here."

There was warmth creeping up the back of Ozpin's neck. It felt distinctly like shame.

"Three, I'm going to be bored as hell if I go home early. Four this place is fucking bomb and there's no way you're kicking me out if I can convince you otherwise, and five..." Qrow hesitated a moment. Something softer settling in his yes.  "And five, it looks like you could use my help."

"I hardly—"

"Chill out, chill out! That wasn't an insult, dude. I'm just saying that, fuck, you're kinda the third wheel out there, right? Nothing to be ashamed of, but isn't that why you filled out my form in the first place? Let me be your eye candy for a while." Qrow rose and flexed his arms. Ozpin couldn't recall the last time he'd rolled his eyes harder. “We'll have a good time, impress your friends with the fact that you landed this hot piece of ass... who knows, maybe you'll actually enjoy yourself. Again, no offense, but you kind of look like you need it." 

Ozpin glared out from beneath messy bangs. "I have had a very trying two days. Besides, you can't honesty expect me to believe that you want to stay and pretend to be my..." Ozpin ground his teeth, disgusted at the amused look Qrow cast him. "If it's a stay at the resort you're after I'm perfectly happy to—"

"It's not."

Qrow said it quietly and... convincingly enough that Ozpin felt the heat move from his neck to his cheeks. "I want to do this."

"But why?" 

Instead of answering Qrow stood and stretched, pulling out his cellphone to check the time. "We've been in here too long as it is. We want people to think I'm your partner, not a goddamn rent boy."

“My—!”

“You did sign up for the full package,” Qrow mused, ignoring him completely now. His own words seemed to hit and Qrow shot him a sly smile that jump-started Ozpin’s heart rate. “But you didn’t seem too keen on the nicknames, huh?”

Ozpin scowled. “Ozziekins?”

“Hey, don’t go knocking it. A lot of people love those stupid names. Don’t worry though,” Qrow shut off his phone and slid it into his back pocket. “I’m starting to get a sense of what kind of guy you are and I really am damn good at this. Just tell me, what’s your favorite food?”

“Hot chocolate.”

“Ha! Okay. Something like a baked good though…”

“Macarons?”

Qrow snapped his fingers. “I can work with that,” and he’d unlocked the door and left before Ozpin could even process the words. Good god.

He sat, staring at the white wall of the conference room, his heart still beating wildly with fear and… excitement? Then Ozpin was out of his own chair and scrambling for the door.

He could only image what Qrow meant by running with it.

***

Presents, apparently.

By the time Ozpin made it back to the entrance hall Qrow had already side-lined Bart and Port from the rest of the group, the three of them seemingly instant friends (fuck). Unable to face the others while his scarf still felt like it was strangling him, Ozpin had snatched his bag and checked in with record speed. Hiding in his room seemed like a truly excellent idea right now and the key in his hand might as well have been a talisman. Ozpin used it with shaking fingers.

Ah. But his rooms. Grander than necessary, more reminiscent of a 19^th century sitting room a hotel. The four-poster bed with red curtaining was exactly as Ozpin remembered from his last visit, as was the Persian rug and the ancient rocking chair. Hurriedly, Ozpin slipped off his shoes so he could feel the thick threads beneath his feet; let his hand gently push the chair to hear that familiar creak. The view of the mountains remained spectacular and Ozpin knew that if he looked, the bathroom would contain a tub large enough to hold three men, stocked full with every amenity available. Although, what had always drawn Ozpin’s eyes was the mantelpiece, carved wood overhanging a spectacular fireplace. There was already a blaze going and Ozpin extended his hands beside the overstuffed armchair, soaking up the warmth.

These rooms… they were, in many respects, truly his considering how many times he’d stayed here as a child, and then later as an adult and part owner. Oh, Ozpin wasn’t so arrogant as to demand the rooms—they were still open to the public year-round—yet when he came to visit they were always, mysteriously available, and any guests Ozpin brought with him always wound up right next door. Not something he required, certainly not… but Ozpin appreciated it nonetheless. Any demands he had were reserved for keeping men like Jacques off this fine property.

Even thinking the name eased tension into his shoulders and sent a spasm of pain down his leg. But no. It wasn't actually Schnee's fault (no matter how much Ozpin might be inclined to blame him for everything). Any discomfort he was experiencing stemmed solely from the man downstairs.

Qrow.

Part of Ozpin remained coiled in a tight ball of anxiety, knowing damn well that this stranger was easing into his group of friends even now, saying who knew what about him and their 'relationship.' He wanted to race back downstairs as quick as he was able and forcibly drag Qrow away from his colleagues, tossing him straight out of Atlas if need be. It was safer that way, surely.

The other part... the other part was just tired. Ozpin had blazed through the end of the school year, had one hell of a rough night, traveled all the way here, and dealt with the shock of learning about his 'boyfriend.' With shoes off and his cane leaning against the footboard of the bed, the idea of going back down to socialize was almost more than he could bear. Instead Ozpin sank into the chair beside the fire, kneading at his leg and steading his breathing. After all, wasn't this exactly what he'd wanted? Someone to keep him company over this break? Qrow was clearly dedicated, kind in his way, certainly handsome... Ozpin should be thrilled at the charade.

It's just that that's exactly what it was: a charade. A facade. A lie. And Ozpin was just greedy enough to wish that it was real.

Qrow really was disgustingly handsome.

The thought startled a chuckle out of him and Ozpin ran with it, laughing into his hands. When was done he leaned carefully until he could reach his suitcase, dragging it over and pulling out his laptop. Qrow seemed to know a great deal about him, even if much of that was the drunk ramblings of a fool. The very least Ozpin could do was return the favor.

Luckily for him, there weren't many men by the name of 'Qrow' out there, and what had been the name he gave James... Branwen?

Ozpin found him within minutes. The initial hits were all regarding that ridiculous advertisement, but digging a bit deeper Ozpin found a Qrow working at The Bad Luck Bar (what kind of atrocious name...) and bearing a facebook profile that didn't invite suspicion, but didn't provide much information either. He liked motorcycles and video games. Had dropped out of high school but secured his GED. The only relationships Qrow listed was a beaming brother-in-law and two adorable looking nieces.

Ozpin stared at the picture of Qrow posing on a Harley, long legs gripping leather and his hair a mess from the wind. There was no way in hell they'd ever sell this. Who'd believe that Ozpin had secured that?

"Oz?"

Speaking of...

He sighed, making his way to the door to let Glynda in. She took one look at his rumpled appearance and let out a sigh of her own, not unlike an annoyed mother.

“What did you do?”

Ozpin spluttered. “Nothing!”

"Shower," she pointed firmly towards the bathroom.

"I don’t need—"

"Now."

There was no arguing with her when she got like this. And in truth, Ozpin wouldn't mind being a little more presentable before dinner tonight. He took a perfunctory shower as instructed, taking more time letting the hot water ease the cold out of his bones than anything else. Ozpin let his mind drift for only a moment... touching his hip where Qrow's hand had been.

He dressed in clean slacks and a gray button up. Drying his hair, Ozpin felt flyaway strands lift up when he wrapped his scarf back around his throat. It was well-worn after so many years and he buried his nose there, appreciative.

"Feel better?" Glynda asked. She was seated in his chair, laptop perched on the arm.

"... yes."

She chuckled. "You don't need to sound so annoyed about it." Glynda rested her chin in her hand, staring at him with enough intensity that Ozpin fought the urge to squirm. "He's not really your boyfriend, is he?"

"...no."

Perhaps Ozpin should have warned Qrow, but there was simply no way to keep something like this from Glynda. The woman was too smart, too perceptive... and above all she knew him too well. Bart, Peter, and Pamela were the kind to get caught up in the moment, too enamored with the idea of something to always think about the logic. James and Winter? Less so, though they knew how precious privacy was. For all they knew, Ozpin really did have a partner that he just hadn't mentioned in the workplace. If the tight lines around Glynda's eyes said anything, Qrow had already done a decent job of convincing the others that he and Ozpin had... something.

Not Glynda herself though. Ozpin held up a hand to forestall the questions.

"I really don't want to talk about it," he said. "Just know that the man down there, as far as I can tell, is entirely innocent. I only have myself to blame for this stupidity."

Glynda cocked her head at the laptop. "Not sure I'd call him innocent... but alright. Glad I don't have to re-evaluate everything I thought I knew about you. You owe me the story later though."

Ozpin rubbed at his eyes. "Much later."

"You've got three days. Maybe try to enjoy yourself a little? You know I wouldn't touch a guy with a ten-foot pole, but Qrow?" Glynda let out a low, appreciative whistle that drew a smile out of Ozpin. It was clearly what she'd been going for because Glynda melted into the chair, her expression relieved. "Seriously, Oz. I'm not going to pretend to understand what you've gotten yourself into, but... run with it? Besides, you'll have to get to know the guy a little if you want to grab him a decent gift."

"Gift…?" Ozpin froze, a sliver of terror running down his spine as Glynda morphed from relaxed to wicked. He snatched up his cane to steady himself, bowing over the handle. "Christ, Glynda, what have you done now?"

"Just a little Secret Santa exchange. Pamela wanted to spice things up this year... and it would be remiss of me if I didn't make sure that you got your 'boyfriend' as a recipient."

Fuck, and Ozpin only realized he'd said that aloud when Glynda started laughing. 

Chapter Text

Absurdity started right around dinner. Ozpin had requested a bit more time alone, which Glynda gladly gave him, but the second he opened his door Qrow was leaning there, waiting.

"Hey babe," he said. "You done hiding up here?"

Ozpin bristled. "I am not hiding."

"Sure, sure. Jeez, you really need to learn to take a joke, dude."

Despite his words Qrow looked rather pleased at the conversation, like he enjoyed teasing Ozpin; poking fun at him in this gentle manner. It was a rather unique experience. Sure, Glynda and Bart did as much, but with the distinct air of friendship about them. Qrow... was looking intently at Ozpin, but not in a way that denoted friendship.

Ozpin straightened his shirt, laying hands over his cane. "I apologize. I'm a little unsure about this whole situation."

"I get it." Qrow swept aside, giving Ozpin room to leave and lock his door. "Most clients are if I'm honest. There's a big difference between imagining something like this and actually pulling it off, and most people aren't nearly as good at acting as they think they are. Whoa, hold up now. Was that a laugh?"

Ozpin tried to straighten his features. "I am capable of laughing, you know. I do it quite often."

"Really? Well color this crow surprised. I'll have to draw it out of you more. Real nice sound."

Qrow bent a little at the waist, extending his arm for Ozpin to link his through. It was a gentleman's move, the sort of thing that the stranger downstairs never would have done, more concerned with subtly groping Ozpin in front of his friends. It was the attention to his desires more than the politeness that colored Ozpin's cheeks.

"Thank you," he murmured and Qrow inclined his head.

It was a little awkward with his cane, but Qrow let Ozpin set the pace, seemingly content to traverse the long hallway at their leisure. The sweater beneath Ozpin's fingers was soft and warm; the arm a sturdy band of strength. He found himself watching Qrow's eyes, wondering if that interest in the architecture was real, or just another show for his benefit.

Ozpin decided to give this man the benefit of the doubt.

"18th century," he said quietly, ignoring how Qrow startled. "First built around 1730, but it burned in the 50s and had to be rebuilt. They've obviously kept up with modern amenities, but the décor has always aired on the older side. I find it quite charming. Like stepping into a piece of the past."

"Or a fairy tale," Qrow said and Ozpin felt a slight skip in his heartbeat. "That downstairs is swanky as hell. Is that really a moose's head on the wall? Above the fireplace, I mean."

"Hmm, yes. Not very eco-friendly. But it does add to the atmosphere."

"Jesus."

"You should see the village. It's just as charming."

"Well then you'll just have to take me there."

Ozpin ground them to a halt. They'd reached the elevators, but he made no move to call one up. Instead Ozpin considered the carpeting, thinking things through.

"Why would I do that?" he asked softly. "No, don't pander me with talk of responsibilities and promises, Qrow. No jokes either. You know as well as I that this was all a mistake. You're in no way required to spend time with me outside of what it takes to convince my colleagues—not even that. You could leave whenever you wish, or at least disengage yourself from my company. So why would you say such a thing?"

Instead of answering Qrow reached to tap the down arrow, still not unlinking himself from Ozpin. It was the longest, continued touch he'd had in some time and Ozpin was hyper aware of it; comically relieved when Qrow didn't pull away.

"You know the kind of people who sign up for gigs like this?" It was clear Ozpin didn't, so Qrow just plowed right ahead. "They're not bad sorts, but they're all after something, you know? Piss off the parents. One-up their friends. It's not wrong—pretty funny sometimes, if I'm being honest—but you..." Qrow gave him another once over and Ozpin only resisted fiddling with his scarf because both hands were taken. "You seem like a good guy. Yeah, yeah, I don't really know you yet, but that's kind of the point, right? I'd like to. Is that really so hard to believe?"

Yes.

"Perhaps not," Ozpin conceded. "Perhaps... we can be friends this holiday season?"

Qrow shot him a blinding grin. "Dude. I've already swapped numbers with your little posse downstairs. Well, except for that ice queen. Don't think she likes me much." 

"Winter."

"Who the fuck names their child Winter?"

"Says the man named Qrow."

"See," Qrow poked him in the arm. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. You're fun. Try to relax a little and maybe you'll realize it too."

They elevator had arrived and they made it to the first floor quickly enough, but Atlas Lodge was a massive labyrinth and Ozpin still had a bit of time before they reached the restaurant. Embolden by the compliment, foreign as it was, Ozpin tightened his hand and tried to find his voice; say something before they reached the others.

"Tell me something," he blurted. "About yourself. I googled you, but..."

Qrow snorted. "Of course you did."

"Did you expect me not to?"

"No. Just... fine. Alright. Here's a little something for you to chew on: my brother-in-law Tai? He's the only one in the family who knows about my..." Qrow waved a hand. "Extracurriculars. He gets copies of the forms people send in, which means he has all your info too. Just keep that in mind if you think about taking advantage at all tonight."

Qrow winked, sending rather mixed messages about whether that was a warning or an invitation, but by then they're reached the restaurant and Ozpin couldn't do any more than splutter inarticulately. With a patronizing pat on his arm Qrow pulled them over to the reserved table. Everyone there wore equal, impish smiles.

"Hey Oz," Pamela sang. She then yelped like someone had kicked her under the table. Glynda, no doubt.

"We agreed we wouldn't," James said, only just loud enough to hear.

"Don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done a thing."

"Ha! As if, Pamela," and Port stole a roll right off her plate, shaking it in her face with the same look he'd give a disobedient student. She did rear back a bit, chastised. It was something about that mustache.

It was Bart, seated directly across from their side of the round table who leaned forward and grinned. "We promised not to make a big deal out of things," he said, sounding as if it was, in fact, a very big deal. "You? With a boyfriend? Boring. Completely! Right everyone? Entirely unworthy of comment. We're all going to have a nice, civilized meal that will in no way devolve into an interrogation..."

Peter snorted into his napkin as Glynda rolled her eyes.

"Children," she muttered.

"Indeed," Winter agreed. She broke her own roll in half with more force than perhaps was necessary, very much not looking at Qrow.

Qrow himself cocked his thumb at their party. "Have I mentioned lately that I absolutely love your friends?"

Though he'd never had it, Ozpin was sure this was a nightmare of his. It was there, somewhere, buried deep, deep down.

Heaven help him.

Despite his (justified) worries though, the meal went remarkably smoothly, considering it was the equivalent of his now fake boyfriend meeting the family. Initial teasing done, Qrow had swept forward and pulled out a chair for Ozpin, drawing up another blush from him and various 'Aww's from the group. He'd taken the seat directly on his left and, to Ozpin's shock, remained rather quiet throughout the whole meal.

No, Ozpin thought later. He's learning.

Rather than deal with an onslaught of questions about their mythical relationship, Qrow seemed to have a knack for twisting the conversation until people were talking about themselves instead. Though Bart was clearly eager to get some non-existent, juicy details, all Qrow needed to do was make one, innocuous comment about the craftsmanship of his ring and there Bart went, gushing about how it was a historical piece that Peter had restored for him, a story the rest of them had heard countless times before, but one he was always willing to recount. ("He tried to propose with a RingPop until the order was complete." "What do you mean 'tried to,' dear, I don't recall you saying no.")

Pamela was their next biggest threat, something they might not have overcome without Glynda on their side. Bringing up the topic of children—good god—backfired on her. Big time. 

"You are considering adopting, aren't you? Or a surrogate?" Pamela poked her fork a little too near Ozpin's shoulder. "Ozzie here is just great with kids."

Qrow had his easy grin in place. "Don't I know it. That's still... a ways off though. Right?"

"Right," Ozpin concurred. He stuffed more salmon into his mouth.

"Oh come now, Glynda and I love having kids." Pamela nudged her wife in the arm, trying to get Glynda to smile. "Ren and Nora are just peaches. But of course they are, with me as their mother..."

Ozpin leaned close at Qrow's confused face. Pressed shoulder-to-shoulder he radiated heat. "Pamela's maiden name was 'Peach.' They decided a hyphenated last name was an awful idea and Glynda straight up refused to be named after a food."

"Damn straight," she muttered.

Qrow speared a bit of asparagus and regarded it with distaste. He none too subtly moved it onto Ozpin's plate, much to Peter's amusement. Winter regarded the gesture with disgust. "What's your last name then, Glynda? I think Oz mentioned it at one point, but..."

"Goodwitch."

"...alright then," and Qrow gave Ozpin a look that said quite plainly he thought all their names were absurd.

In truth, that might be the first thing they could agree on.

"I don't think you're in a position to judge, Qrow," James said. His eyes moved around the table. "Peach, Goodwitch, Peter Port...now that's just terrible alliteration."

"Hey!"

"And I hope I don't need to point out the issues with Winter or Qrow as names. As for Barthalamew and Ozpin..." James blinked rapidly, like he was process the information. "I'm the only one here with a normal name, thank you very much."

Ozpin sighed. "My parents were both rich and eccentric. That's the only excuse I can give."

Bart reached across the table for a high-five that Ozpin reluctantly gave. 

"I don't know," Winter drawled. "There's a lot to criticize about Ironwood..."

Qrow choked on his food.

"You've never criticized that before."

Qrow choked hard.

"Please tell me you took his last name," he said, trying to wipe mashed potatoes off his chin. 

For the first time Winter bothered to look him in the eye. "Hardly. Besides, even if James' name wasn't absurd ("Winter, please.") father wouldn't hear of it. The Schnee name must live on after all."

Winter said it with an old, hard bitterness, so distracted in her anger that she didn't notice Qrow choking again—this time with just a bit more enthusiasm. Instinctually Ozpin found himself patting him on the back. It was only when Qrow was breathing again that he realized how often they'd been touching throughout the meal.  Easy, casual things...

Ozpin removed his hand, fingers curling.

"She's a Schnee?" Qrow hissed when he was breathing again. "Like, owns everything on the west coast Schnee?"

"I'd say a great deal across the country, but yes. Try not to hold it against her."

"Rich bastards..."

Qrow didn't sound too upset by that though. After all, Ozpin was also a 'rich bastard’ and Qrow didn't seem to take much issue with that.

Well.

"So," he said, neatly turning the conversation back to its original topic. "Pamela and Glynda raising Nora and...?"

"Ren, yeah." Pamela took a large spoonful of soup, humming. "He's a quite boy. Absolute angel, he almost never cries. Nora on the other hand...."

"She set our curtains on fire last week," Glynda said, entirely calm. "And last month it was the bedsheets."

"They do say they're the terrible twos for a reason."

And Pamela's eyes narrowed, no doubt ready to exalt the joys of having toddlers despite the difficulties, ready to claim that Ozpin and Qrow should really consider it if they were at all serious about this relationship—

"We're thinking of adopting two more," Glynda cut in, still straight-faced and calm. "Jaune and Pyrrha. I've been speaking with an agent."

Pamela literally spat out her soup.

"WHAT? WHEN WERE YOU PLANNING TO TELL ME THIS?" 

"Right now seemed good."

"SHOULDN'T WE DISCUSS IT FIRST?"

"We are. I did say 'thinking of,' didn't I?"

Qrow had slapped his napkin hard over his mouth. Ozpin could feel him shaking beside him.

"And you two?" he finally managed.

As Glynda and Pamela argued—now rapidly in Italian—and as Bart and Peter watched, James removed his wallet from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a picture of  Penny.

"From a previous marriage," he confirmed. It was easy to spot. Blake and white hair didn't tend to produce redheads.

Ozpin lightly touched the picture of her soaring on a swing-set as Qrow cooed. "She's gotten bigger." 

"I realize how cliché it is, but she’s growing like a weed, yes."

"You named her Penny," Qrow said, staring at the scrawled info on the back, entirely uninterested in the girl's height. "Your arguments regarding names are invalid."

"...it was my ex-wife's idea."

"Liar."

And somehow it all managed to work. Certainly Glynda's little bomb had been intentional (good god was she really thinking of taking on four though?), but everyone else just had the unique ability to dig themselves in deep when they talked, large enough holes that soon a boyfriend was seen as old, boring news. As entrees were cleared and dessert arrived their group got a little rowdier, but then it always did. Ozpin found himself smiling around a forkful of chocolate cake. His friends were ridiculous.

But they were his.

"Can I try a bite?"

Ozpin stilled. Qrow was leaning into his space again, eyeing his cake like a hungry shark. Ozpin playfully narrowed his eyes.

"I suppose," he said. "Though I'm rather protective of my sweets."

"Heh, I know. I sent you that lovely box of macarons, remember?" and Qrow winked, distracting Ozpin just long enough to steal his bite. However, instead of taking one for himself Qrow leaned even closer—too close, nearly up in Ozpin's lap—to snag the piece right off his fork. Ozpin could feel his weight bearing down, Qrow's breath on his wrist as he moved to grab his mouthful. He wasn't subtle about it either, taking time to drag his lips and teeth across the tongs.

"Must you?" Ozpin breathed. It had suddenly gotten far, far hotter in the restaurant and he tried to loosen his scarf without making it look like that was exactly what he was doing. Qrow didn't appear fooled. Dammit.

"It was necessary," he said, wiping chocolate off his lower lip. Qrow dipped his voice into a whisper. "Somehow I didn't think you'd be up for the real thing again."

"Real...?"

Ozpin looked up at Qrow's prompting, finding the plant that dangled above their heads. Ah. So that had been there through the whole meal? Lovely. 

“Indirect kiss under the mistletoe." Qrow bounced his eyebrows up and down. "Romantic, yeah?"

"Hardly, considering that's not mistletoe."

Ozpin went back to his cake as Qrow goggled. "It's holly," he clarified, feeling rather smug. "It's a common mistake, I assure you. Mistletoe has rounder, waxier leaves and white berries that, I'd like to add, are quite poisonous to humans. It's also incredibly parasitic."

Qrow stared at the jagged leaves of the holly, red berries suspended above their heads. "You're a bit of a buzzkill, anyone ever tell you that?"

"...Often."

The comment was mean innocently, he knew that, but Ozpin's happy-go-lucky mood evaporated fast, leaving just a deep-seated tiredness in its wake. It had certainly been a long day. He pushed the rest of the cake aside and folded his hands, listening to the rest of his friends chat and laugh. Oh, he wasn't oblivious to Qrow's sneaked looks his way, but Ozpin firmly ignored them.

He wanted to get to know him? Very well. This was what Ozpin had to offer.

"I'm heading up to bed," he said after a while, waving away Bart's insistence on a nightcap. The mere idea of more alcohol set his stomach rolling. "No, no, I'm quite tired from the trip. I'll see you all tomorrow?"

There were murmurs of agreement all around, Glynda's gaze a little sharper than the others', but Ozpin ignored her too. He was greatly looking forward to the rest of the night spent in solitude, nothing but the sound of his fire and the snow outside to disturb him. In fact, the image of peace was so strong in Ozpin's mind that it took him a moment to realize that Qrow had followed him out of the dining room.

Ozpin turned sharply on his heel. Not an easy move with his cane, exhaustion pulling at every limb, but he managed it. He was very much the headmaster as he abused his height to look down on Qrow. 

There had been no more polite gestures like pulling out his chair. No more casual touches. Qrow just stared at him, rocking backwards a bit on his heel. 

"Feeling cranky?" he said.

"Yes," Ozpin snapped. As if a question like that would make things better.

"Something I said?"

"Yes."

"Well I didn't mean it." Qrow raised his hands in a parody of an innocent victim. "Really. Look, you're tired, tense, no doubt still thrown from this wonderful surprise. How about I give you a massage and you can head straight to bed?"

Ozpin's knuckles went white on the head of his cane, his arms shaking. He was more upset by how wonderful that sounded right now, how much he'd craved a touch like that just last night... and Qrow looked soft right now, an impossible mirage in the lobby's dim lighting. Ozpin could still feel his hand on his hip, the peck on his lips, his breath on his wrist, the way he'd laughed at some of Ozpin's more awkward comments. Qrow seemed perfect; kind eyes and a keen intellect, literally dropped into Ozpin's lap like someone had heard a prayer. It was too perfect though and Ozpin was disgusted with himself that this, apparently, was all it took. He was so desperate that he'd literally take anyone who walked through the door.

But Qrow didn't know any of this.

"I'm not in the habit of letting strange men..." Ozpin swallowed around his words. "Touch me like that."

"No different than booking a masseur." But Qrow shrugged, easily giving in. "Boundaries. I get it. I held back on the kiss, didn't I?"

He had. Ozpin was both grateful and...  disappointed.

The cocky act dropped for just a moment. "Really, I get it. No more pushing tonight. You can relax."

"Thank you." Ozpin let his expression soften because Qrow indeed sounded like he meant it. That understanding blossomed heat right in the middle of his chest, a very different feeling from what the offer of a massage had produced. They were, perhaps, okay. 

The only problem was, Qrow kept following him up the elevator and all the way down the hall of rooms. Ozpin couldn't explain it away anymore once he'd reached his door and Qrow was still there. 

"Don't go getting mad..." Qrow fiddled with the hem of his sweater. "But, uh, my room is your room."

Ozpin stared. "No."

"Yeah, dude. Where did you think I was going to sleep? We're 'boyfriends,' aren't we?" Qrow gave exaggerated air-quotes. "And before you lug yourself all the way back down there, yes. I checked with the front desk. They're booked solid. We're in the middle of goddamn nowhere—that's your fault—so I'm gonna guess that finding a hotel is impossible, even if it didn't rouse suspicion, and I doubt Glynda and Pamela want me bunking with them. Or ha, James and Winter. Jesus. Actually, Bart and Port might be amiable... but no. Fucking hell no. So yeah, unless you want me sleeping out in the snow..." A sheepish grin finished his speech.

"No," Ozpin said again, but 'yes' seemed to be the word of the day. He had no reason to think that Qrow would lie, and though he could go back down and attempt to pull some strings...

Ozpin pressed his hand against his thigh, feeling it shaking. Lug himself down there indeed.

He worked very hard to keep his expression stony as he put his key in the door and Qrow let out a cheer. Honestly, the idiot man sounded like he'd just won the lottery.

"You're sleeping in the chair."

Chapter Text

Ozpin woke to warmth, the softness of a featherbed...  and a voice?

"—panicking," he heard distinctly, no more than a whisper coming from somewhere near the bathroom. "Tai, he asked for everything—"

There was a pause.

"Yeah I know the form is bullshit, but if he wants..."  the voice faded out a moment, the sound of someone pacing. Then it came back strong. "—can't pretend. Yeah, I know not to get involved with clients, but I like this asshole, dammit—"

Ozpin didn't recognize the voice, nor did his sleep addled brain understand why there was someone in his bathroom. His body ached and everything was too heavy to deal with right now. Still, a small part of him, the part not still having strange dreams of a man's hands, told him that there was something wrong with this situation. Ozpin turned in bed with a groan—and the voice immediately stopped.

He caught something else indistinct before there was a pause, then footsteps. Sensing the presence of another, Ozpin blearily opened his eyes. 

"Morning." 

He gasped, flinching backwards and pulling the covers all the way up to his neck. By the time Ozpin recognized Qrow and remembered their situation, the idiot, asshole man was already laughing.

"What?" Qrow wheezed. "You scared I'm going to see you in your highly indecent flannel pajamas?"

No... yes. With a glare Ozpin lowered the blankets so that the collared top was visible. Perhaps most wouldn't think twice about being seen in their sleepwear, but Ozpin couldn't help any instinctual reactions, especially this early in the morning.

Especially when Qrow had opted to wear far less the night before. Just boxers and a Springsteen t-shirt. Ozpin tactfully averted his eyes.

"Whatever," he muttered, which just made Qrow laugh all the more. Ozpin had to admit that there were worse sounds to wake up to in the morning. He turned and ruffled his bed head, careful not to let Qrow see his smile.

"Were you on the phone?" and oh, alright, that changed the conversation better than Ozpin had thought it would. Qrow immediately turned his back on him, looking through his own, small duffle bag.

His answer, when it came, was deceptively light. "Yep. Just Tai."

Odd. Ozpin tried to dredge up the bits of conversation he'd heard, but it was already fading. "Tai... The one who has all my information and will hunt me down, no doubt doing unspeakable things, if I don't treat you right on this trip?"

Qrow threw Ozpin a grin over his shoulder. "Absolutely. You want the shower first?"

"Go ahead." 

Qrow didn't make any quips about Ozpin joining him for a soak and he shut the door politely as he went. It was little things like those, that balance between teasing Ozpin about his pajamas, but not actually saying anything inappropriate. Tracing the line of his flannel, Ozpin found that he liked that balance more than he'd be willing to admit.

It didn't help that directly across from him was the fireplace and chair, a throw and extra pillow draped messily across the footrest. Ozpin felt another stab of guilt and tried to shove it away. It... didn't quite work. Well, perhaps he'd let Qrow take the bed tonight. With fresh sheets, of course. It would be hellish on Ozpin's leg, but perhaps worth it.

He was shocked that he was even considering such an act, considering that he was the one paying for this room. Hell, Ozpin was shocked he'd slept as well as he had!

Except for those dreams...

With a sigh he rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes and dressed as quickly as he was able, lest Qrow suddenly reappear when he really was indecent. Ozpin had changed in the bathroom the night before and had every intention of continuing to do so for as long as they shared a room.  Really, it was  the most obnoxious, inconvenient thing, sharing his space on the one true vacation Ozpin had out of the whole year, while he was paying a small fortune for it no less. How utterly infuriating.

Or at least, it should have been.

By the time Qrow had emerged from the shower—luckily already dressed in jeans and a pullover, tousling damp hair with a towel—Ozpin had resigned himself that he did not, in fact, dislike Qrow's close quarters company.

Far from it.

"No shower?" Qrow asked. Ozpin shook his head.

"No, just give me a few moments."

"Take your time, dude."

He relieved himself, washed his face, and brushed his teeth. It was slower going than he would have liked. Despite fires and modern heating, the cold always managed to seep into Atlas' walls, courtesy of the old insulation. Ozpin's leg had stiffened in the night and when he came back out it was shaking underneath him, thigh and knee trembling minutely.

Ozpin sat back down on the bed as Qrow waved something at him. "We've got mail."

"Mail?"

Notes, rather. Slipped under the door by Glynda. Their names were scrawled on Atlas' stationary and underlined no less than four times, clearly indicating that the folded messages were private. Inside Ozpin found a few scrawled sentences reiterating their Secret Santa exchange to take place the next day and, of course, reminding him that he had Qrow.

Somehow Glynda managed to convey sadistic amusement through cursive. Let her. Ozpin would just get the man some soap or something.  

Qrow startled chuckling behind his paper—which, Ozpin noticed, was addressed very deliberately to Crow. "Secret Santa, huh?"

"Yes. Apparently it was Bart's idea."

"I believe it." Qrow flapped the sheet before tucking it safely into his jeans pocket. "Why not tell us in person though? Don't you people eat breakfast?"

"I assume they're already on the slopes." 

Ozpin had been told before that he was a man of few words, but he did know how to use them to best suit his needs. He'd found, as both a private man and a headmaster, that words were either a weapon or a defense, depending on how one wielded them. With the exception of a few noticeable slips in his life, Ozpin was very confident in his ability to manipulate the spoken word. Thus, he mentioned his friends and skiing with nothing but bland indifference.

Yet somehow, Qrow's eyes still narrowed. He'd smelled out a rat.

"So we'll be heading out soon too," he said, pointing towards their closed door; then the closet of clothes Ozpin had unpacked the evening before, none of which (he was sure Qrow noted) was appropriate for skiing. "I get it, I'm a late sleeper. But at least the gang could have waited for you." 

Ozpin recognized the offer for what it was: dump things on his colleagues, vent a little about how 'rude' they were, and then come up with some generic excuse for why he wasn't feeling up to skiing today. Qrow's face was carefully blank, and honestly? Ozpin appreciated it.

Enough to just give him the truth.

"You're far from stupid," he drawled. Ozpin knocked his cane lightly against his ankles. "I'm not the skiing type, Qrow."

He pulled a strange expression; half hopeful, half embarrassed. "You could be?"

"I really couldn't."

"Well fine, that's cool. It doesn't make your friends any less asshole-ish though. They just abandoned you for the day?"

Ozpin shrugged. "It would be quite selfish of me to deny them access to the slopes just because I'm not capable. We are at a ski resort. Besides, they hardly abandoned me. They're all under the impression that I'm with my boyfriend, are they not?"

"A boyfriend they didn't know you had when you came."

That... was true enough. They didn't mean it maliciously though. In fact, all of them had put up quite a fight that first year, appalled at the image of Ozpin seated alone while the rest of them went out for the day.

He'd worked hard to reassure them and Ozpin didn't regret that work, certainly not... but it was just one more reason why he'd always wanted someone of his own to accompany him on these trips.

And now he had that.

Qrow mimed dropping a mic, mouthing 'boom.' "Assholes, man."

Ozpin bit into his lip, struggling not to smile at the display. "They're not. Leave them be. Or better yet, go join them.  I did promise you full access to this facility while you were here."

"Nah." Qrow flapped a hand. "Skiing was never really my thing.  And by that I mean I've never gotten the chance to try—but, I'm not starting now. The last thing you need is for your boyfriend to go breaking his neck on your first vacation together. Plus, height." Qrow gave an exaggerated shiver that held some very real fear. "I'm thinking I was a bird in a past life. And some bastard hunter shot me down. Trauma. Humans aren't meant to be up in the goddamn air, okay?"

He considered that. "Really? I think flight is one of our greatest achievements. Did you have much trouble with the flight over?" Another stab of guilt. Ozpin was growing used to them. 

"I drugged myself." Qrow waved his hand again. "Nothing hard core, just some Benadryl. Knocked me right out like a goddamn babe. I'm never touching anything harder. Being an alcoholic is enough, thanks."

It felt like an offering; a lot like Ozpin's gesture towards his leg. Yes, he vaguely remembered Qrow mentioning his past drinking in that form, but that was quite different from offering the information up now, when Ozpin was present and capable of judging him for it. Instead of responding, Ozpin merely stood and gestured to the door.

"Well...  if you're not doing anything, perhaps you'd like to have some breakfast with me? Then perhaps I can show you the village?"

Qrow's smile was slow like molasses. "I really thought you'd never ask."

Warm croissants, fresh fruit, and mugs of hot cocoa by the fireplace was something like heaven to Ozpin; the company making the food even better. Qrow was a far more mellow man than Ozpin would have assumed at first glance, the kind of guy who fed off of others' personalities and energy. Around the likes of Bart and Pamela? Qrow had a wise-crack or joke for every situation, matching pace with them every step of the way. Around him though? Qrow was...soft spoken. More interested in what Ozpin had to say than he ever would have dared to believe.

Unless he was just faking it, of course...yet Ozpin couldn't bring himself to consider that option seriously anymore. Not when Qrow spooned his whipped cream into Ozpin's mug with a shockingly tender smile.

"Dress warmly," Ozpin said when they were done. His own cheeks were already comfortably heated. "It's a bit of a walk down to the village."

"Is your leg up for it?"

"I'll be fine, provided we don't go too quickly."

"I'm not going anywhere..."

And Qrow offered his arm to Ozpin again, the two of them setting off at a sedate, easy-going pace. They walked together in synch now.

"Well isn't that a picture," Qrow murmured when they'd stepped outside. Indeed. Ozpin hadn't gotten a chance to appreciate it yesterday, what with his flight and a certain someone's unexpected arrival, but the Atlas grounds really were something close to perfection, the kind of imagery you saw in storybooks and never expected to find in real life. The view from their window didn't do justice to the mountains in the distance, the endless miles of snow that swept down and fell in tiny flakes all around them. The trees that lined the resort were dusted with it, the occasional bird still flying overhead. Ozpin's eyes traced the path that wound down and out of view. It was deep, but not unmanageable.

"You'll need to help steady me a bit." Ozpin didn't have time to feel embarrassed over the request. Qrow had already taken his arm in a more secure grip, moving them slowly down the path.  

After a few minutes the beauty seemed to wane though. Qrow grumbled down at his sodden boots.

"Don't they plough this damn thing?" he grumbled.

Ozpin laughed, tipping his head up to catch more snow against closed eyes. "They do, though usually after the snow has stopped. The village is available, of course, but hardly a necessity. Those at the resort are more than happy with the commodities and those in the village have little reason to make the trek up here. We seem to be one of the few out and about today."

"You mean we're the idiots who left a warm room so we could slowly freeze to death?"

"Precisely."

There was no freezing to death, but both were rather chilled by the time they'd reached the village and Ozpin needed to sit as soon as possible. He led them into the first structure, enjoying Qrow's wide-eyed surprise.

"A skating rink?" he said. Looking around it was just that: a small, outdoor oval beneath of canopy of holiday lights; an almost shack-like structure off to the side. A number of people were already doing lazy laps, but Ozpin led them straight to that building, ushering Qrow in first.  There he found a tired-looking teen manning one expresso machine and a variety of snacks behind the counter. Ozpin shooed Qrow towards the tables while he secured hot cups of cocoa.

Qrow down half his around a laugh. "Don't you drink anything else?"

"Hmm. I had wine the other night." 

"No."

"Oh yes. Too much in fact, as you well know."

Qrow toasted Ozpin's stupid decisions and for a few minutes they just sat in silence, catching their breath and warming their hands. Unbidden, Ozpin found himself telling Qrow about the village with the same  enthusiasm that he'd offered up Atlas' history.

"It's very small, and I'm afraid that most of the structures deeper in make up the residential area. But the few public shops are well worth seeing." He blew carefully along the rim of his cup. "A few stores—mostly knick-knacks and the like—a candy shop, this ice skating rink—" 

"Candy?" Qrow interrupted. "Fuck yes. I promised to bring Ruby and Yang back something."

Ozpin cocked his head, unfamiliar with the names. Like James had last night Qrow pulled a well-worn photo from his jacket, showing off two girls with identical, mischievous grins. The younger had an infectious, gap-toothed smile while her sister was nearly lost under all that golden hair. Ah. So these were the nieces.

"They're such a pain," Qrow said fondly, thumb stroking the picture's edge. "I'm not their Dad, that's Tai's misfortune, but I might as well be sometimes, you know? Both moms out of the picture, deadbeat Uncle they got too attached to during rehab... Tai's the one who got me through it. There's nothing I wouldn't do for those three."

Something hot and trembling settled in Ozpin's stomach. He could practically see the love pouring out of Qrow in that moment and he suddenly, selfishly wanted some of that directed his way. 

Even just a sliver.

Ozpin cleared his throat, passing it off as a cough. "They know you're here then?"

"Here? No. The girls just know I’m off on vacation..." Qrow snorted, tucking the photo away. "They’re pretty mature for their age, but they don't need to know about how weird Uncle Qrow spends his off hours..."

It was strange the more Ozpin thought about it. Had this been about money he would have understood. Qrow had said he was well off, perhaps supported by Tai, but even so, he didn’t seem the type to have much extra cash for two growing girls' Christmas gifts. If that form had said anything serious about monetary compensation... well, he wouldn't have even played at filling it out, assuming that it was a scam. But at least Ozpin would have understood the intent.

"Why do it then?" He asked. Ozpin kept his gaze down on his drink, stirring to give Qrow some semblance of privacy.  Even so the silence went on long and when he did finally look up Qrow was just staring out the window.

"Qrow?"

"Want to go for a spin?" 

"Eh?" Ozpin nearly dropped his cocoa, startled as he was by the question. Following Qrow's gaze he too watched the families and friends going round and round the ice. He wondered if this was just how Qrow avoided answering questions, or if he really wanted to...

Ozpin set his cup down decisively. "I'm no better at  ice skating than I am skiing.”

"But?" Qrow nudged.

"But… you did do a marvelous job of helping me down here. You... well. You are kind, Qrow, and were you willing to indulge me a bit more—" 

He'd already stood, offering Ozpin a hand up as well.

That truly seemed to be a thing with them, didn't it? 

So it was that Ozpin paid for two pairs of skates from the kid, his a little too tight and Qrow's a little too big due to limited options. Still, they made it work, just as they did the skating itself. Within a minutes Ozpin found his cane left carefully on a nearby bench and Qrow's hand clasped in his. It was less that he was skating—his knee wouldn't bend enough to allow it—but there was still something joyous in getting pulled along by Qrow, occasionally bumping into each other’s shoulders, falling into one another's arms. It didn't escape Ozpin's notice the glances the other skaters cast them; the kind that said how adorable the couple was. 

"This is why," Qrow said suddenly, pulling Ozpin close to manage a turn. He was a little too distracted by cologne and stray hands brushing his waist to immediately notice.

Ozpin jerked a bit when he realized how long he'd been silent. "I-I'm sorry?" 

"This is why I do it, Oz," and his nickname on Qrow's lips halted his breath, curled his toes. "Not supposed to get involved with the clients, yeah? But I always hoped..." Qrow swallowed. He pulled Ozpin a little closer. "I'd always hoped that along the way, with all the pretending, I'd find something real."

He couldn't process this. Real? What was real anymore? In less than twenty-four hours this man had gone from just a stranger on a plane to somehow, a person that Ozpin trusted enough to hold him close like this, ice and a nasty fall just a moment's cruelty away. And now, Qrow was saying things like this...impossibilities...and Ozpin wanted to demand whether this was just a part of his act, or...?  

What came out instead was, "Have you? Found someone?"

And gods Ozpin hated that grin. It was too easy to get lost in it. 

"What the hell do you think, dumbass?"

Qrow leaned in slow, giving Ozpin plenty of time to pull away. He didn't, he was frozen, he wanted this... and yet Ozpin was also relieved when Qrow turned slightly, brushing chapped lips across Ozpin's cheek instead. 

"Think about it," he whispered and pulled back, allowing the cold to seep back in.

Ozpin didn't know what to say after that. Perhaps words weren't necessary. They took a few more laps around the rink, still hand-in-hand, still with Qrow leading the way—as he seemed to do in so many things between them. When they sat to remove their skates Ozpin found his fingers rising without his permission to trace where Qrow's lips had been. He thought, foolishly, that he could still feel traces of warmth there.

"Do you need to shop?" he asked, voice now rough with disuse. At Qrow's confused look Ozpin nodded towards the rest of the village. "For a Secret Santa gift." Heaven knew he needed some time alone to figure something out. Especially after that.

Qrow blew out a breath. "Jeez, almost forgot about it. Guess, you're just distracting me." Qrow plowed on before Oz could respond to the compliment. "Unlikely we'll be coming back, huh?"

"Yes, unlikely given the snow."

"Alright. Split up and meet back here in forty-five?" 

It was a sensible plan, but Ozpin still didn't like watching Qrow walk away from him, his form slowly disappearing into an expanse of white. God, what was wrong with him? He was acting like a lovesick schoolboy. Worse really, given that Ozpin didn't have his age to use as an excuse. He was pining, and over what? A lie, an implication, and the simplest of kisses. How pathetic was he?

And yet... Ozpin couldn't deny that Qrow was simultaneously everything and nothing like what he'd imagined in a partner. Had someone placed Qrow before him, rugged in his handsomeness, uneducated, sporting a past and sensibilities that, in truth, a younger Ozpin might have judged him for... well, he would have turned away in an instant. What did this trash-talking man want with the stuffy headmaster? Oh yes, opposites attract, but that little nugget of wisdom applied to those like Glynda and Pamela, Peter and Bart... not Ozpin. Never him. 

It was all the things he'd seen that had slowly begun changing his mind, things he never would have gotten to see if he'd forced Qrow to head back home. It was the fierce excitement for life, diving headfirst into a 'job' that was ridiculous in the extreme. How Qrow had tailored his acts to better suit Ozpin's tastes, playing at the gentleman, kind, courteous, yet funny too. His clear adoration for his nieces and the way he'd wormed his way so quickly into Ozpin's group. Surely if his friends liked him, Ozpin wasn't too far off the mark?

And perhaps, given Qrow's implications...maybe they could...?

Ozpin came to a stop as his cane hit a familiar stretch of cobblestones. He'd reached the residential area; the whole of the village traversed—and he'd found nothing even remotely suitable for a gift.

After all, what did you give a man who'd suddenly given you so much?

Ozpin certainly didn't know.

Chapter Text

Things grew a little awkward between the two of them. Or perhaps, Ozpin made things awkward, as unintentional as it was.

Hiking back up to Atlas was slower going than coming down and by the time they'd made the trip, changed out of wet clothes, and both had taken quick, warm showers to regain feeling back in their limbs, the afternoon was gone. They had friends knocking on their door for card games and cocktails, James tossing Qrow a soda instead in a rare show of friendship. He had Bart to draw laughs out of him and Glynda to hover at his side, Peter, Pamela, and even Winter getting into the spirt of the season as each relayed stories of their trip up the mountain. And yet, he and Qrow had said nothing of consequence during all that time, a far cry from the intimacy shared while alone on the ice.

It didn't lessen the feeling against his cheek though, entirely unaffected by the cold. It had replaced the press of fingers against his hip. Ozpin slept soundly that night... except for the dreams.

When he woke Qrow was again folding the blanket to drape over the armchair, all smiles and quips about whether they'd be abandoned again today. Ozpin almost hoped they were. It hadn't escaped his notice that Qrow had left the village not just with a bag of candy for the girls, but with a thin box under one arm too, tied with a green bow. He wasn't stupid. Glynda wasn't that kind. Of course she'd make them each other's Santas and Ozpin wanted desperately to confirm it:  that Qrow had picked out something just for him. 

Not really though. Not entirely. Because he'd been thinking too much lately and now he just needed some space. 

Just a bit. Then he'd like to come back to Qrow.

"Kitchen?" he asked, torqueing to look at Ozpin on the bed. He was standing directly beside the window, cell held high in the air. "You bake?"

Ozpin smiled into his scarf, toying with the frayed edge. "Is that so surprising?"

"Yes? ...no? Fuck, I don't know. You want some help?"

"I'd prefer some time alone."

"Something I did?" and Qrow kept his eyes on the phone he was swaying back and forth. "Look, I know I probably crossed some line yesterday, but—"

Ozpin was quick to hold up a hand. "You didn't. This is... simply how I am. I would appreciate time to think things through, provided that your words...?"

"I meant them. Ah fuck."  Ozpin blinked at the cursing straight after such a soft admission. "What the hell happened to all the service?" 

"Ah, yes. That happens sometimes out here. I'm sure it will return just as soon as the storm blows over."

Qrow stared out at the snow, a huge accumulation since yesterday afternoon. "Yeah, just don't like being out of contact with Tai."

Perhaps that was how Qrow worked through things; unloading them onto his brother-in-law. It made a strange bit of sense. Beyond just being family, Qrow had mentioned in his teasing the Tai acted as a safety measure for him while 'out in the field' (as he insisted on calling it). If clients ever turned out to be something other than what they claimed, he had a way of reaching—and presumably rescuing—Qrow. Who better to speak with if he was suddenly developing feeling for—

Ozpin halted those thoughts in their tracks, his neck burning. No, Qrow hadn't said that. Not explicitly. And it would be far too much for Ozpin to presume.

A client. A contract. A man who made him sleep in a chair and abandoned him for the day. What did Qrow see in any of that?

Guilt didn't slow Ozpin's trek to the kitchen though.

Selena was right inside the door when Ozpin poked his head through. She looked up with a smile.

"There you are," she said. "I was wondering when you'd be showing up."

Ozpin cracked a small smile just for her. "Am I late?"

"You certainly are, young man."

He'd been coming to Atlas Lodge since he was a child and Selena was the only one on Earth who could get away with calling Beacon's esteemed headmaster 'young man.' She'd been cooking here long before he'd first arrived and, Ozpin was half convinced, she'd be cooking long after he was gone. Age hardly seemed to touch the woman—perhaps it was too scared to.

Selena pointed with a knife towards the back. "I've got bread rising. Don't touch it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And wash your hands first."

"Yes, ma'am." As if he'd forget that first rule.

Selena knew. She'd been the one to teach Ozpin most of what he knew of baking, everything else picked up from cookbooks and a few courses in college. Vacations only meant something when there was family and friends to share it with, but Ozpin's parents had always been too busy sniping at one another to notice mundane things like bath or bedtimes. They had their differences, but in this at least he had found a kinship with Winter. Both of them understood that while money granted them much, there were some things it just couldn't replace. It was a lesson that Jacques had never quite grasped.

Ozpin had wandered in here one night purely by accident and he could only assume that Selena did with him the only thing she could think of: teach the crying child how to properly hold a knife.

Ozpin chuckled at the image.

Since then he'd come here at least once every time he returned to Atlas. Yes, sometimes it was just to say hello—a gesture Selena always sneered at—but more often than not it was to bake. The whole team knew him. It didn't matter whether they were fresh-faced graduates or seasoned pros like Selena herself, every cook at Atlas knew that when the gangly, white-haired man invaded their kitchen, you gave the guy some space.

He was more appreciative than he could say.

"May I?" Ozpin asked politely, gesturing to the counter space not in use. The young man nodded happily, scooting his dough even farther to the right. This back room was another familiar space. It was just the two of them and Ozpin took a moment to breathe. To breathe and stop thinking. 

Then he set to work.

He started with a batch of chocolate chip cookies, as he always did, but that didn't help to drown out his thoughts at all. Ozpin had been making these for decades and could probably complete the recipe in his sleep. With those in the oven, he turned his sights on something a little more challenging. Atlas Lodge had all manner of ingredients to work with and the staff was always happy to give Ozpin a bit of the extra. He collected sugar, flour, eggs, vanilla, a bit of almond extract, cream of tartar, and food coloring, once he thought about it. A far more difficult sweet, though one of Ozpin's favorites. He was halfway through making the macarons before he remembered Qrow's words.

I sent you that lovely box, remember?

A crack! and a slight pinch told Ozpin that he'd crushed the egg he was handling. With a sigh he set it in the sink, cleaned his hands, and grabbed another. There was no logic in wasting the ingredients. He'd finish with a mint chocolate filling.

From then on out what Ozpin chose to make hardly mattered. Not the cinnamon loaf or the gingerbread, the orange cranberry bundt cake. Everything, somehow, brought his thoughts back to Qrow. Far from distracting him the work simply reinforced that Ozpin missed the other man's presence. He wanted Qrow here to speak about bland, unimportant things as Ozpin stirred his batter. Or say, with sincerity, that he enjoyed watching him work. Tiny things that Ozpin had often dreamed about and now supposedly had... so why was he avoiding them?

He wanted Qrow's kiss again.

Ozpin wanted this to be real.

He blew out a breath over the small mound of sweets he'd created. A delicate cough sounded over his shoulder.

"I think you went a little overboard."

The kitchen's back room connected to a door outside and Winter was just closing it behind her, hastily stubbing out a cigarette. She looked up at Ozpin with a sheepish expression. Or as sheepish as Winter could ever be.

"Don't tell James," she said.

Ozpin nodded, handing her a kitchen towel to try and dry off with. Winter's namesake was in full force out there, snow continuing to pile up as the wind howled against the window. Just opening the door had brought in a frigid blast of air. Ozpin ushered Winter closer to the ovens.

"I won't tell James about that cigarette if you don't tell Glynda I've been stress baking," Ozpin said. It wasn't easy to get Winter to smile. James was the only one Ozpin knew who could manage it on a regular basis, but that pulled a small smirk out of her, something he was stupidly proud of. Winter held out her hand for a formal shake and Ozpin gave it flour and all.

Deal sealed he kept hold of Winter's hand and turned it palm up. Ozpin chose one of the cookies from before and pressed it there, pleased when Winter happily replaced the smoke with chocolate.

"Those things will kill you, you know," he admonished, wagging an exaggerated finger.

"Ha ha."

"Come now, Winter. What's wrong?"

She stuffed the rest of the cookie into her mouth, clearly avoiding the question. Ozpin waited a long minute before she finally looked up.

"Weiss," Winter said, somehow managing to pack more emotion into the single word than he'd heard from her in two days. "She hasn't texted or called at all today. She…"

He didn't need her to finish. Ozpin was well acquainted with the Schnee girls’ situation. Unlike her big sister, Weiss was still living at home. With Jacques.

"Qrow was having trouble with the service this morning," Ozpin murmured. He lay a hand gently on Winter's arm, squeezing, trying to reassure. "I'm sure she just can't get through. You saw first-hand how bad it’s gotten out there." He gestured to the storm outside. "She's fine."

Winter checked her phone again before nodding. "It's stupid. Not like we're in constant contact, but it's

the holidays, and..."  Quick as a whip that vulnerable expression disappeared and she was Winter again, composed. "Thank you, Ozpin," she said, nodding at the collection of baked goods. "Tit for tat?"

Ozpin picked up a cookie of his own. He didn't eat it though, just turned it over in his hand. "Would you laugh at me if I said 'Qrow'?"

"The boyfriend who's not really your boyfriend?"

Smiles were rare, but laughs were a downright miracle. Ozpin wasn't sure he was hearing right until he saw Winter with a pale hand pressed over her mouth. His face must have been that comical then. Good to know.

"Do you think we're stupid?" she asked, still smirking around her fingers. "Ozpin please. Dating is one thing. Appearing with a man whom none of us had ever heard of is quite another. Where in the world did you pick him up? Don't tell me you lost a bet..."

Telling Winter that he'd gotten drunk enough to accidentally hire a fake boyfriend?  Ozpin would rather die, thank you.

"It's complicated," he muttered and she hummed, unconvinced.

"A boyfriend that might be your boyfriend," and again Winter shook her head at his expression. "Again, Ozpin, we're not stupid. We'll be snowed in here soon and I'm not one to think that fate sends signs, but..." she shrugged. "I can’t say I like the guy. He’s about as far from James as it’s possible to be, but it’s clear that you like him. Just don't waste an opportunity."

No. Ozpin was beginning to realize that.

Winter snatched another cookie, pointing at the rest of the sweets.

"At least you got him a cool gift."

***

"Hey."

"Hello."

It was some sort of testament that Qrow already had a mug of cocoa ready when Ozpin arrived in the Lodge's lounge. His friends had commandeered the space by the fire, everyone curled up tight and comfortable with gifts around their feet. There were only so many armchairs though. Whereas Pamela was seated happily in Glynda's lap (a position she seemed rather unsure of), Qrow immediately stood to give Ozpin his spot. He then settled on the arm of the chair, his thigh pressing against Ozpin's shoulder.

He pressed back, just to show Qrow that it was okay. 

"And where have you two been all day?" Peter said, wagging his eyebrows in a manner that made James roll his eyes. "We returned to that lovely pool table downstairs, but a certain pair of lovebirds were nowhere to be found. Curious."

Qrow grinned at Peter while Bart chuckled about 'lovebirds' into his sleeve. "Oh, you know, late afternoon nap. A movie. Hot, raunchy sex in that four-poster."

Ozpin choked on his drink as Peter let out a full belly laugh.

"As if you'd last long enough to explain away the whole afternoon."

He completely, honestly, did not intend to say that, yet it slipped out all the same. Ozpin pressed a hand to his mouth, mortified as Qrow spluttered indignantly beside him.

Pamela made a sound like a dying vulture.

"An image I really didn't need, Oz," James said, playful smile thrown his way. He looked to Winter for support... but she was still staring at her phone.

Ozpin laid a hand on Qrow's leg, stilling his exaggerated offense. "Were you able to contact Tai?" he whispered.

"Hm? No. Why?"

"No reason..."

The mood was somewhere between joyous and worried. Looking to keep it firmly on one side rather than the other, Glynda grabbed hold of a bag with red tissue paper sprouting out the top.

"Alright, everyone, settle down." They rolled their eyes at her teacher voice instead. "Sorry you only had two days to shop, but that storm got worse than any of us were expecting. So unless you want to give your recipient some of the mints from the dining room..." Glynda tossed some of the tissue paper as Bart started considering it. "You were my recipient, asshole." 

They weren't much to stand on ceremony and they were all still young enough to enjoy a good gift. Did anyone truly lose that feeling? Probably not, so they tore in with glee. Glynda had picked up Bart a selection of temporary hair dyes to expand his green and brown repertoire and Bart, for Pamela, gave her a book...

"You really are an asshole," she muttered, Glynda hiding a smile at the Raising A Multi-Child Household title. Her reaction was rather mellow though and Ozpin made a mental note to ask Glynda seriously about this Jaune and Pyrrha she'd found. He'd always known she wanted a big family, though whether she could survive three on top of Nora was another question entirely. 

Pamela gave Winter a clip for her hair; a pretty, delicate icicle that suited her perfectly. Winter looked rather thrown by the carefully considered gift and immediately let her hair down from her customary bun, clipping loose strands out of her face. Ozpin felt a small pang watching her. The clip, while beautiful, was obviously cheap and Winter was one of the only Schnees he knew who wouldn't hesitate to wear it.

She gave Peter a bottle of rather fine whiskey—"You're a smart girl, Winter!"—and Peter gave James a small bag of yarn.

"Yarn?" Qrow said sounding just as surprised as Ozpin felt.

"I've taken up knitting," James said, fingering the soft strands. "It's a better hobby than I initially assumed. Very soothing."

"Really?" Winter drawled. "Is that why you yell at your patterns so much?"

"...sometimes soothing."

"Uh huh."

James rounded things out by giving Glynda a large collection of toiletries, lotions and bath bombs and the like. She pressed her nose to the basket with a smile, Pamela already making absurd comments about how they could put those to good use.

And then there was just him and Qrow.

"Mine's still in the kitchen," Ozpin murmured, suddenly feeling rather self-conscious about his impromptu gift. "We can retrieve it after."

Qrow wagged his eyebrows up and down. "It's edible, huh?"

"I do hate how you say that, but yes."

Laughing Qrow leaned down and tossed the box Ozpin had seen right into his lap. "It's not much," he muttered. "And I don't know, you probably don't even want it, but..."

On the contrary. Ozpin removed the wrapping to find a beautiful green scarf, just a shade darker than the one he already wore. Qrow was still speaking as the others praised the gift, saying something about how he didn't know if the accessory was sentimental, but it looked a little ragged, and he really didn't mean any offense by that,  but if he wanted a new one—

Ozpin's answer was to tear his scarf off, dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. He immediately wrapped the new one around his neck, burying his nose, breathing deep.

"Thank you, Qrow."

"Eh, it's whatever," but Qrow was staring at him with pink cheeks and a dopey smile. "Hey, if you've got any chocolate hidden in that kitchen of yours I would kill for—"

Qrow cut himself off. The whole party grew quiet, startled by the front doors opening and a huge blast of cold air blowing in. With the exception of Winter sneaking the occasional cigarette outside, Ozpin didn't think anyone had bothered to go out in the last twenty-four hours. The weather had gotten too nasty.

It made the appearance of four children all the more jarring.

"Qrow?" Ozpin murmured, watching him stand like a man possessed, stumbling to get a better look. There were only a few other patrons around, all of them murmuring at the sudden visitors, none of them approaching though. Two of the kids were struggling to get the doors closed again and it was only when they'd shaken off the snow that Qrow let out an audible gasp.

"Qrow," Ozpin said more firmly. He struggled to stand, using the other man as leverage.  He gripped his arm and gave it a shake. "What's wrong?"

Qrow pointed a little dumbly. "You see them too?"

"Of course."

"Not a snow mirage," he muttered and Ozpin shook him again. "Holy fuck, Oz. Those are my kids."

Chapter Text

That was... not at all what Ozpin expected Qrow to say. 

He wasn't given the chance to interrogate him though.  Qrow was already sprinting across the lobby, Glynda and Pamela at his heels. There was a brief moment of shock as the other stared past him and then,

"Weiss!"

Winter shot past him as well, leaving James, Bart, and Ozpin to catch up.

Yes, he recognized the girls now. Once the wind was locked out and they'd pulled snow-coated scarves and hats from their persons, he recognized little Weiss in an instant. She let out a cry of joy quite unbecoming for a Schnee—but absolutely perfect for a young, distressed girl. Weiss threw herself into her big sister's arms without hesitation. She was babbling something Ozpin couldn't make out and she only pulled back to drag another, black-haired girl forward, someone Ozpin wasn't familiar with.

He knew the two others though.

The picture of Qrow on his knees with Ruby and Yang on either side, crushed against his chest... it was something that would stay with Ozpin for a very long time. Qrow had his hands splayed in each girls' hair, head bent onto their shoulders as he tried to pull them even closer. Thus, Ozpin was as shocked as the girls when he reared back and clapped them both around the ears.

"What the hell, Ruby!" 

“Ow!” The girl had pale-colored eyes, almost silver, and they widened comically at Qrow's admonishment. "Why do you think this is my fault?"

Qrow paused, face tight with fear—but also consideration.

"What the hell, Yang!" 

"Well at least you're fair," Yang muttered. She jabbed a finger at Weiss, still tucked safely between Winter and James. "It was the little snowflake's idea, not ours."

"What was her idea?"

Ozpin's friends often joked about how he tried to play the headmaster even when they weren't in school, but he found that a certain level of authority was useful during strange situations such as this. Gone was the shy, uncertain man who'd made Qrow macarons earlier that day. Ozpin straightened to his full height and put his cane directly in front of him, hands folded. It was clear that he wanted answers and he expected to receive them. Now.

The only problem was, he had four rather stubborn kids on his hands.

Kids.

"Never mind," Ozpin said. He silenced Qrow with a look when he opened his mouth. "Regardless of what has happened it's clear that you all are freezing. Now doubt hungry too? Come, we'll get you fixed up and then we can chat."

There were nods of agreement all around. The important thing, they realized, was that four young girls had chattering teeth and soaked clothes—entirely unacceptable. Bart and Peter held off the Atlas staff that had wandered over and Ozpin overheard them asking about any clothes that would fit some pre-teens. Good. Glynda and Pamela, ever the mothering team, practically kidnapped the black-haired girl towards their room, leaving her a little wide-eyed in the process. James and Winter had already disappeared with Weiss. Qrow took Yang and Ruby by the hand, marching them towards the elevators. It was only when they were in the privacy of their room, Ozpin having followed him inside, that Yang turned, eyes narrowing.

"Who are you?" she asked, incredibly suspicious. It was rather adorable.

"I'm Ozpin," he said, bowing slightly. "This is my room."

"Uh, this is Uncle Qrow's room." Ruby pointed at her Uncle's stuff around the chair, then paused. She turned to Qrow.  "Why is this your room? What are you doing here?"

Qrow blinked. "You... Tai didn’t say I was here?"

"Nu uh."

"You just followed some strange girl out here?!"

"Showers," Ozpin said firmly, derailing Qrow's panic. He nodded a little blankly before ushering the girls into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him, three voices rising up to argue about helping and babying and other things that made Ozpin smile despite it al. He felt a new, yet growingly familiar blossom of warmth in the center of his chest and Ozpin collapsed heavily onto the bed.

There was... something. Heavens, he didn't know how these four children had ended up in their presence, but all at once Ozpin was exceedingly glad they had. Because a picture folded into his back pocket just didn't do Qrow justice. That snapshot of Ruby and Yang couldn't convey the utter love and joy that had entered Qrow's eyes when he'd spotted the girls, nor the panic and relief when he'd pulled them to him. Nothing in the last two days could showcase Qrow quite like seeing how he cupped Ruby's cheek to check her health, or tenderly brushed snow from Yang's hair. He was careful with them. Utterly devoted. Like...

"Much like this," Ozpin whispered. It hadn't escaped his notice that Qrow had looked at him with some of that same love, right when he'd presented his gift. Ozpin closed his eyes and pulled the scarf closer against his skin. He'd wanted attention from Qrow, so desperately. Ozpin was just too much of a fool to realize he already had it.

If he hadn't squandered it, that is.

A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

Bart had joined him, just briefly, looking haggard at the turn of events and more serious than the man was otherwise inclined to be. He was apologetic when he told Ozpin that the lodge didn't have anything suitable for the kids. If they'd once had a lost and found it was long gone.

Which was how fifteen minutes later Ozpin found himself handing Ruby one of his shirts, smiling softly as it became a full nightgown on her. She'd looked up at him, curious, as Yang stole one of Qrow's larger t's.

"If this is your room, how come Uncle Qrow's stuff is here too?"

Oh christ.

It felt like a moment though. Something Ozpin could turn from as he normally did... or perhaps embrace. He looked over at Qrow, still picking up towels in the bathroom, and caught his eye. The expression he wore was everything Ozpin could have ever wanted. It was how he'd looked at him when he'd bent to kiss his cheek; when he'd given Ozpin his scarf.

"I'm his boyfriend," Ozpin said and Qrow's ecstatic grin was every bit of confirmation he needed.

I'm his boyfriend.

"YOU'RE WHAT?"

Oh god, the kids.

Perhaps announcing that to Ruby and Yang had been a mistake, but within a few moments they were nothing but smiles again, Yang babbling to Qrow about how she knew something was up when he disappeared before Christmas each year and Ruby literally hanging onto the tail of Ozpin's jacket, begging to know everything about him. It was rather overwhelming. Wonderful too.

"I'm SO glad Weiss ran away."

Wait. What?

Dressed in their shirts and socks, fading despite their shock at Ozpin's announcement, they managed to get Ruby and Yang up onto the bed, making room when Glynda and Pamela appeared with a equally warmed up Blake—a new friend of Yang's, apparently. Weiss was nowhere to be found, but Ozpin spotted Winter outside her room when he popped out for some food, looking suspiciously like she'd been crying. It was easy enough to understand why when they'd pulled the story out of the other girls.

Ran away, indeed. Weiss had apparently had enough of her father this holiday season, a sentiment that Ozpin fully understood, and in the logic of all children she had decided that the best course of action was to run away from home. Which, by some strange twist of fate, was how Ruby found her.

"Zwei got away when I took him out," she muttered, twisting the covers between her hands. "So I chased him and I found Weiss and she was crying, Uncle Qrow. So I took her back home to Yang but Dad got stuck at work and the phones weren't working right and you weren't there." Qrow winced. "Blake was hanging out with Yang and we were going to go find her parents, but then Weiss said her big sister was out here at Atlas." Ruby glanced guiltily out the window. "I didn't know we needed a plane to get to her sis..." 

Qrow had gone three shades paler. "You didn't fly…?"

"What! No. Weiss had a super nice pilot who helped us escape. He gave us money for the cab.”  

"Oh my god."

The situation was undoubtedly ridiculous, but considering whose nieces they were, Ozpin could somehow well believe it.

It was clear that the little adventure had exhausted them and soon after the tale Yang had fallen asleep across Ruby's lap, Blake—quiet but supportive the whole time—cuddled up on her other side. It would be cruel to move them and an hour later when Winter knocked on his door with a passed out Weiss over her shoulder, Ozpin let her tuck the girl in next to Ruby. The four of them were peaceful in bed together, an unexpected joy in their lives.

"James and I are talking about adoption," Winter whispered and Ozpin took a step back at her expression. “It won’t be easy getting her away from Father, but…” Winter’s smile was all predator. “Penny always did want a sister.”

Excellent.

It was early, but felt late when Ozpin and Qrow were finally, relatively alone in their room. They'd curled together on the armchair, watching the kids sleep soundly across from them. A low fire burned behind the grate.

"Now neither of us get the bed," Qrow murmured and a laugh rumbled through Ozpin's chest.

No, neither of them had the bed anymore. Amazing that he'd spent so much to come here and didn't even have a place to sleep. Not that Ozpin could complain about his current arrangement.

Qrow was sprawled out on the armchair with Ozpin curled in his lap, bad leg nestled carefully between the chair's arm and his side. Qrow's hands had been hesitant at first, but when Ozpin didn't jerk away he'd begun kneading his shoulders; giving the promised massage from two days before. Everything was muddled and hazy and grand. It wasn't a position they could stay in all night, but for now...

...for now. 

"You're quite skilled at that," Ozpin whispered, groaning when Qrow hit a particularly tight spot at the base of his neck. Qrow spluttered and playfully slapped a hand over Ozpin's mouth to quiet him.

This. This right here. It wasn't just about getting an impromptu massage. As Qrow had so aptly pointed out, Ozpin could do that downstairs if he wished. No. It was just touch in general. Simple, loving touches that told him someone else was there. It was such a far cry from the night before the trip that Ozpin felt his eyes stinging just comparing the two. This was what he had wanted. 

And yet... he had to be sure. He had to hear from Qrow's lips that he truly wished to be with him, not merely continue this strange charade. Ozpin needed to know that all of this wasn't going to disappear as soon as they left Atlas Lodge.  

Eyes still closed, he drew in a deep, fortifying breath.

"Qrow, would you do me the honor of—" 

Ozpin opened his eyes to find a ring in front of his face.

“What.”

Qrow's grin was equally shocked and confused. 

"Holy shit, don't tell me you're proposing too?"

"What! No."

"Shh, keep your voice down."

Ozpin glanced guiltily over at the girls, but Yang only sighed in her sleep, turning closer to Blake.

"You can't be serious," he hissed. "I've known you two days!"

Qrow just laughed, tossing the ring into the air. "I'm not, I’m not. This is the prop ring I use with my clients. Most of them ask for a fake proposal and drunk you did request the full package." Qrow stared at him until Ozpin went red in the face.

"...oh."

"Yeeeeah. I was going to embarrass you in front of the gang, but honestly?  We weren't fooling anyone... and I like this outcome a lot better."

Qrow wrapped his arm around Ozpin's waist, nuzzling his neck. Ozpin carefully stroked his arm.

"I was going to ask if you'd like to go on a date with me," he whispered. Ozpin swallowed everything holding him back. "After this, I mean."

"Isn't this answer enough?" and Qrow lightly pressed a kiss behind Ozpin's ear, making him shiver.

He supposed it did.

How wonderful. 

"We've got to make the most of tomorrow though," Qrow muttered after a few minutes of silence.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Because Tai is going to have my balls when he realizes I've got the kids and started dating a client. Holy fuck I am screwed."

Ozpin chuckled, holding on tight. "I suppose I'll just have to protect you then... boyfriends do that, yes?" 

"Fuck yeah they do."

He turned his head, and Qrow did too, until both were in the perfect position for a kiss. Had Ozpin consciously decided to do it he might not have been able, but as it was they just simply came together. Qrow's lips were as new and familiar as they'd been out on the ice and out in the lobby. They were something Ozpin wanted to know more of... and somehow felt like he'd known all along.

Ozpin kissed Qrow and was wonderfully, blissfully warm.