Work Text:
Atlas has a gorgeous line of aircrafts. Aircrafts are behemoths of steel most every other place in Remnant, but in Atlas, where they are an indispensable part of life, something about them is simply different from those in the regions below. Perhaps it’s a reflection of Atlas’ gilded lives -- or at least formerly gilded lives.
Things are changing. So many things have changed already. Atlas and Mantle exist under new leadership, and now are readying themselves to aid in the fight against Salem. The communication’s tower is up and running. There’s a new Winter Maiden.
And now, just as life changes, their extended group must change as well. There are other regions to visit, to warn about Salem, and to assist in facing off against the Grimm that will haunt them in the wake of that knowledge. Much assistance will be required -- enough to warrant the strongest assets of the Atlesian military to join the extended fight beyond Atlas’ borders.
Despite their higher spirits, everyone’s a little mixed at the idea of leaving Atlas. For the Ace Ops, Atlas is not just a workplace...it’s home. For the kids, it was somewhere stable. Clover can only imagine how much they’ve missed having someplace like that to stay. From what Qrow tells him, constant travel has been something of a norm for them since they faced the Fall of Beacon.
But at least this time, their accommodations are more comfortable. The plane they’re taking is about as nice as Atlesian arcrafts come. It’s no four-star hotel, but it’s close.
Clover’s happy to see that the kids seem content with the accommodations as they board it.
He’s also happy to see his team content with the accommodations as they board it.
But mostly, so strongly to him that it’s almost embarrassing, he’s happy to see Qrow content with the accommodations as he boards it.
Clover makes sure he’s right by Qrow’s side to get his reaction up close, and Qrow’s smile -- as always -- does not disappoint. It’s as warm as a fireplace after a snowstorm and more beautiful than a hyacinth in bloom.
And fortunately for Clover, he’s been seeing it more and more frequently over the past few months they’ve spent together.
Clover’s always known he’s been blessed with a personality that could win just about anyone over, but experiencing Qrow warming up to him, opening up to him, enjoying his presence and their partnership...it’s been something so different than he ever expected.
He’s unashamed to admit that he loves it with all that he is.
They board the plane together, and Clover gestures to Qrow two unoccupied seats towards the center of the plane.
There’s been no secret made about the length of this flight. The trip from here to Vacuo is sixteen hours.
That’s sixteen hours they’ll be side-by-side, and while this plane is luxurious, that luxury comes at the cost of seats. There’s just barely enough for all of them, and the plane’s available seats are filling up fast.
Committing to a spot now means committing to spending a whole day by the side of whoever one ended up next to.
Clover knows Qrow knows this.
And he still chose to sit next to Clover without an ounce of hesitation.
A smile crosses Clover’s face, and he’s undeniably thrilled.
However, there’s more to it than that, and funnily enough, that more would seem like less to the naked eye -- comfort.
Comfort, yes. That just about describes everything about them, and it might just be the part of this thing they have that Clover loves more than anything else.
While the armrest between them offers a generous amount of space, his and Qrow’s shoulders touch as they get settled into their seats. Still, neither of them blush, nor look away. No, the touch is casual -- it’s comfortable.
‘Comfortable’ -- oh, how Clover’s grown to love that word.
As the plane takes off, Clover relaxes at the thought of the next sixteen comfortable hours they’ll share together.
()()()()()()()()()()
In the unlikely event Qrow was ever forced to spend the rest of his days aboard an airplane -- not exactly his ideal retirement plan, mind you, but at least it doesn’t involve being digested by a Grimm -- he can think of a lot worse people to choose to sit next to for all of those remaining years than Clover Ebi.
So when the prospect of a mere sixteen hour flight by his side approaches them, Qrow has no qualms accepting the invitation.
As a matter of fact, a qualm is just about the last thing Qrow Branwen has with anything having to do with Clover Ebi.
Clover is comfortable -- yes, ‘comfortable’ is the best word to describe him. For as serious as he is when it comes to his job, he is also as carefree as Harbinger is sharp. A lesser mind would attribute that quality to his semblance and the cockiness that it may cause, but Qrow takes pride in being the exact opposite of a lesser mind. He knows that carefreeness Clover has is more than just the result of luck -- it’s who Clover is -- plain and simple. Qrow sees it in Clover’s eyes, his brow, and his smile, a smile that isn’t innocent, but informed, yet still optimistic, and that makes its successes that much more interesting to witness.
Qrow spends a lot of time looking at that smile, and even more time thinking about it.
And now, he has that smile all to himself for sixteen hours.
Not to mention, if there’s one thing Atlas can be counted on, it’s that it has amazing planes. Their seats feel like they’re made of the very clouds they’re flying through, the craft is fully stocked with seemingly every snack under the sun as well as a nice variety of sodas, and they have screens to project their scrolls onto for a handsfree experience.
So not only will he have access to Clover’s smile, he and Clover will also be given plenty of good reasons TO smile.
It’s going to be a great flight.
()()()()()()()()()()
Clover swears that at some point, the plane flew up beyond the limits of the very sky itself and is now gliding straight across heaven.
Sure, that theory is rather hyperbolic, but with how nice of a time he’s having, he wouldn’t be surprised if it proved to be the case.
Rays of light amber shine inside the plane. Qrow, while not directly in its way, is bathed in it all the same.
The sun makes everything about him pop -- as if he didn’t already do that well enough on his own. His smile is so much brighter, the speckles in his eyes are clearer, and his teeth almost sparkle in the light. Even the crumbs from the pretzels he ate earlier are illuminated, and Clover -- ever the neat freak his team well knows him to be -- finds too endearing for words.
The setting sun gives Clover little time to take it in, so he does fully under the guise of simple conversation.
He can be quite the clever devil when he wants to be.
That would probably be a bad thing if he didn’t care for the topic, but he does. Clover considers himself a caring guy, but Qrow manages to make even the most seemingly boring, annoying, or weird topics come alive. While Clover’s not at all into video games, if Qrow’s talking about them, suddenly, he doesn’t mind thinking about them for a half hour or so.
The past few hours have passed in a relaxed state of bliss. Conversations tend to flow between them as naturally as a river, and the long flight together hasn’t changed that. There’s plenty of moments of silence too, or just moments that pass where they do things on their own, but it never feels out of place. It’s just them...being who they are.
Clover likes who they are.
It’s not long before the sun completely sets. The dark sky is contrasted by the warm lights from within the plane, and it feels as if they’re safely put in a nice, cozy cabin on a harsh winter’s night.
However, before long, that changes too.
Their arrival in Vacuo will be early. Everyone aboard the craft knows that, and as yawns start to surface after their early wake up to prepare for their initial departure, it starts to sink in that calling it a night sooner rather than later is in all of their best interests.
Clover can already see people settling in for some sleep. He gets a peek at his teammates, and he can just barely hold back a chuckle.
Harriet’s lounging in her seat with her left arm spread out over the armrest and her eyes shut, with Vine holed up in the corner beside the window and his seatmate, halfway to slumber town himself. Marrow meanwhile has contorted himself so that his tail is curving over his body while Elm pushes his back against her own as to sleep more cozily.
Of all the descriptors Clover as ever used or considered using in regards to his team, the term ‘adorable’ has never once come to mind. However, those brief glances at his fellow fighters changes that perspective in an instant.
He has a sneaking suspicion that a certain group of kids from Beacon have a hand to play in the change.
Honestly, the Ace Ops as a whole have become so much closer over the weeks that unorthodox group has been in their presence.
Those kids...and Qrow...who knew they would be what the world needed the most right about now?
And more importantly, who knows what they’ll do next? Clover believes that whatever it is will be something good, and he’s happy to be along for the ride.
Well, whatever the case, he does agree nonetheless that it’s just about time to turn it in for the night.
()()()()()()()()()()
Sixteen hours never seemed too big of a number for Qrow, and passing that time with Clover has made it seem even more paltry than that.
Things are always easy like that for Qrow and Clover -- at least when they’re together, that is. Clover has this aura about him -- not a luck-based aura, but...a different kind of aura, separate from the pressures of semblances and more of a resemblance of his core personality. That aura makes the air feel just a bit sweeter and the urge to keep his guard up seem so much more distant than it should be.
Being around Clover...it makes Qrow just feel safe.
He knows it’s unwise. After all, they have a relic in their possession. It’s just a matter of time until a flying Grimm attacks them, or Hazel will show up on a hot air balloon or something or both at the same time, ready, willing, and able to blow them out of the sky.
Well, at least Tyrian’s not among their enemies’ numbers anymore.
Still, despite the danger that lurks behind each and every one of Remnant’s four corners, Clover’s sheer presence somehow wills his relaxation into existence. It’s nice having someone around like that, and it’s even nicer that that person is Clover.
Qrow’s never been much of a talker -- in truth, he’s not even that much of a talker with Clover -- but Clover and he are able to ebb and flow through the balance of conversation and alone time with such ease. There always seems to be something new for the two of them to discuss, and at the same time, they can exchange a comfortable silence with not a single bit of awkwardness, and no time has made that more apparent than today.
Most of the conversation’s been surrounding Vacuo. Qrow wants Clover to know what he’s in for once they hit the harsh sands below it. Clover seems so assured that he can handle the rough climate, but he’s never been there before. Nonetheless, Clover’s confidence -- as it is often one to do -- leaves Qrow believing he can weather whatever Vacuo has in store for him.
...That said, is it bad that Qrow also wants to see the look on Clover’s face when he realizes they need to regularly traverse the desert on foot?
Probably, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a hilarious mental image to have dance around in his head.
Still, even if he has a hard time at first, Qrow knows Clover will get it in no time.
And he looks forward to that smile of triumph when even the cruelest of wastelands falls prey to Clover Ebi’s relentless optimism.
The shattered moon is the only light the outside world provides them that remains in the wake of the deceased day. And just like that very outside world, it’s not long after the sun abandons it that the occupants of their aircraft abandon their overhead lights.
It makes sense. After all, they’re supposed to be landing early tomorrow, and they left Atlas Academy pretty early this morning just to make their flight. Everyone could use a little shut eye.
Some arrive sooner to that proverbial party than others.
Qrow hears Ruby and Nora snoring from both the front and back of the aircraft, respectively.
He’s traveled with them for months, but it never ceases to amaze him just how loudly those two brats in particular seem to -- not even just sleep, but just do...everything.
Other snores -- less loud than his niece and her friend’s -- speckle the night with bits of sound, as the plane lets itself darken.
He and Clover lock eyes just before turning to see their comrades as they fall to the lull of sleep.
Diagonal from their seats, they spot something that almost makes Qrow’s heart skip a beat.
‘Cute’ really isn’t Qrow’s scene. He may hang around with people considered to be cute by both others and admittedly himself, but Qrow doesn’t go looking for cute things, nor pay them any more attention than anything else that only mildly interests him with few exceptions.
But seeing Yang and Blake, cuddling up against each other with a shared blanket that continues melding forms that are already bound by touched foreheads, yeah, that’s cute.
Nah, not cute. Downright ‘precious’ would be the better way to describe the sight before him.
Clover seems to think so too. He can feel the tension in Clover’s forearm release from up against him, but also not pull back.
Qrow can’t even blame him. He’s halfway tempted to take a picture and send it to Ruby because he knows she’d kill him if she found out he held something like this back from her.
But he doesn’t. This is Yang and Blake’s moment, not theirs, even if it is cute.
They’re good kids. They deserve some happiness like that.
He and Clover take a final look at the lovebirds before turning back to each other, softly smiling.
Clover hums his agreement to their silent conversation in a relaxed, yet still jovial tone.
Then...Clover does something unexpected. He leans down briefly, rifling around the bottom of his seat. Moments later, he surfaces, but with a dark blue plush, cylindrical bundle in his hands. The name of the aircraft is embroidered onto the cloth exterior.
Well, it wouldn’t be an airplane ride without a complimentary blanket, now would it?
Clover pops open a button and holds the blanket between them, his offer obvious despite that offer being given no voice.
There’s a hidden implication to the gesture, especially given what they just saw between his niece and Blake.
A sudden case of convenient amnesia overtakes Qrow -- or rather, Qrow takes on -- regarding the fact that he has also been provided with his own blanket, one that rests right beside where Clover found his, and that he’d be able to access just as easily as Clover was.
Oops. How silly of him.
Qrow, with a shrug and a chuckle nods his acceptance.
Without a word needing to be exchanged between them, Clover and Qrow spread the blanket over themselves and get comfortable.
Clover positively radiates warmth. It would make for a sweltering scenario if the shared body heat was balmy rather than cozy.
Qrow and Clover are sharing a blanket.
No, Qrow is not completely beside himself with a delight he never thought it was possible for him to house.
...That’s the veneer he aims to put on, at least.
In truth though, for as happy as he is with the arrangement, it’s not enough to hitch his breath, nor make his heartbeat race. Things may have been like that at some point between them, but right now, Qrow can’t remember -- he doesn’t want to.
What they have now, it’s comfortable -- literally, at this second, just as much as it is figuratively -- and Qrow wouldn’t trade it for the world.
As the final minutes of their day slink by, they watch something on each of their TV’s. Still, Qrow isn’t paying attention to anything except how nice this all feels and just how alluring the prospect of a nap is right now. He suspects Clover feels the same. Their eyelids begin to grow heavy, and that weight only gets increases more and more by the second. Hardly ten minutes pass after the blanket is spread before Clover and Qrow quietly fall asleep.
()()()()()()()()()()
Yang’s uncle, whether he’ll ever admit it or not -- something Yang thinks is about as likely as Salem deciding to sprout confetti all across Remnant instead of Grimm -- is too cute for words.
She’s seen plenty of instances of his cuteness throughout her childhood -- mostly through funny faces and even funnier stories made to entertain while simultaneously distracting her and Ruby. In her adolescence, instances were less prevalent, coming out only through the occasional glimpse of awkwardness, goofiness, or unashamed bouts of affection.
But any absence of signs that she’s ever experienced in her life of her uncle Qrow’s cuteness are more than made up for by the sheer sight of Qrow cuddling underneath a blanket with Clover Ebi.
It’s an adorable sight to wake up to -- not quite as adorable as the sleeping Blake that first greets Yang’s eyes when she wakes from their nap, but still more than enough to make her smile nonetheless.
Yang doesn’t stay awake for long. At times like this, Blake’s presence soothes her like nothing else, and the pull of sleep is a mighty one to ward off under such circumstances. However, upon prying her eyes away from Blake to stretch, she gets to see a bit of her uncle’s snuggly nap, and it does a good job holding its own in the battle of cuteness.
All is calm, but all the same, while the nightmares that Yang knows make her uncle Qrow reel in his sleep are clearly not present, Qrow’s head ends up shifting all the same, eventually leaning onto Clover’s shoulder where it at last is calmed. And Clover’s head, taken off its balance, gently sandwiches Qrow’s head into the crook of his neck. Yang sees Qrow’s left arm slip towards the bottom of the small of Clover’s back, and Clover’s hand is visible through the indent it makes, falling to Qrow’s right thigh, practically on his waist. Both sport easy smiles.
Despite the fact that there are so many fights left unresolved and so many monsters that will likely soon come for all of them, Cover and Qrow both look as though they’ve never been as safe as they are whilst held in each other’s arms.
And in the entire time Yang’s known both of them, they’ve never looked this comfortable before.
Well, perhaps she’s wrong about that. Everything about them is comfortable from the outside looking in, and has been since the day they were first partnered up. It’s something that goes beyond their complementary semblances, too. Actually, yeah -- if Yang were to put it into words, she’d say that they just fit so...comfortably together. There’s no better way to describe them than that, but all the same, it’s the right word for them.
Yang’s not a betting girl, but she’ll say that if Qrow or Clover were each allowed to pick a single moment could be made to last forever, there’s a good chance at least one of them would pick this one.
She’s happy for them. Clover’s a good guy -- cool-headed, but cocky, spunky, but earnest, and strong willed, but not incapable of change to help the world improve. Yang likes him and as a plus, he and Qrow fight well together.
They’re good men. They deserve some happiness like that.
And speaking of some due happiness, a slight stir from Blake settles Yang back into their prior pose, and moments later, she falls asleep again.
()()()()()()()()()()()()
Clover’s woken up in aircrafts before.
If he had to call one thing about them his favorite, it would be the pale sunset that shine through the windows. Just like the sunset from the previous day, it creates a gorgeous glow over the plane’s occupants that makes for a wonderful way to start the day.
And with both that sunset and Qrow Branwen by his side, Clover wouldn’t be surprised if this turned out to be the best day ever.
As if he and Qrow didn’t match each other perfectly enough already, they wake up at practically the same time, too. Less than a minute after Clover eyes open, Qrow’s eyes meet his gaze. It’s so serene -- Clover feels as though he could meet it forever.
In a move that honestly surprises Clover, Qrow doesn’t do anything to move away from him. They’re so close -- there’s no way that hasn’t resonated with Qrow the same way it has for Clover.
As a matter of fact, he doesn’t even rush to create the small excuse for distance they had prior to their rest either. The touch lingers in the warmth of the blanket and their shared body heat.
No one else is awake yet. Neither he nor Qrow are looking around, but he gets the sense that they can both just feel it.
A certain moment from the night before rings a bell, of two people nestled under a blanket together, holding each other tightly.
It’s just them -- resting together, resting comfortably.
Clover’s pretty sure there’s not one tangible thing in all of Remnant or beyond that he wants more.
()()()()()()()()()()()()
Qrow hasn’t slept as well as he has over the past few hours in a long, long time. His usual bout of nightmares let him be, and because of that, not once did his consciousness stir out of its state of slumber all evening.
It’s a good feeling -- it’s a really good feeling.
He has to strain himself to will the strength needed to open his eyes into existence -- a Herculean task that he feels should grant him a round of applause for its completion.
And when he does, he’s rewarded for his efforts by one hell of a sight.
Clover’s eyes have always stuck out to Qrow as bold -- then again, so do his own -- but two inches at most from his face, despite their singular color, they’re as vibrant as a rainbow.
Neither of them speak, as if their proximity to each other leaves them speechless.
But no -- this isn’t them being speechless. Qrow knows what that’s like, but he can tell that if he ever gains a desire to end this, he could whenever he wants to.
And he doesn’t.
Instead, tender smiles are exchanged, acting in place of any verbal language as a wish for a good morning.
Verbal or not, the wish feels well granted right about now.
They’re both so close together right now, with much of their bodies already pressed against the other about as snugly as the situation can allow.
With that thought, another slams into him, one that should leave him agape and shocked, but doesn’t.
So Qrow let’s the thought exist, entertaining it like silly putty in his hands.
If they were so inclined to kiss, such a thing would be almost too easy to pass up right now.
And neither of them are running away. They’ve both fought their demons -- emotional and literal -- and won.
Some easiness is definitely called for.
So Qrow leans in, and Clover follows him as if their minds and thoughts were one.
It’s little more than a shift for them as their lips touch for the first time.
The kiss between them feels...weightless. Yeah, that’s how Qrow would best put it. With that weightlessness comes a sense of finally and fully letting go. It’s a letting go of his inhibitions, a letting go of his guard, and a letting go of anything that he hasn’t already readily offered Clover.
There’s not much of the latter...but that’s what makes the kiss as good as it is.
Qrow’s hand moves from the small of Clover’s back up to the space between his shoulders. Clover’s moves from Qrow’s thigh around the corner of his form, fully ensnaring his waist.
It’s a quiet kiss, at least to the outside world. But between them, a fondness in the form of a question that had been upfront about its presence, but never ultimately asked is at last not only asked, but answered. That answer turns out to be better than Qrow could’ve ever imagined.
They breathe each other in more and more for every moment the kiss goes on, and that leaves them both with a lot of the other’s scents dancing through their noses.
The kiss comes to an end as a flight attendant passes by, offering them coffee. Even as they softly break apart though to tell them their drink preferences, one of each of their hands find their way to the other’s.
Another kiss is not exchanged that morning, but those hands stay casually bound until the plane lands in a small mushroom cloud of sand.
Vacuo is for certain going to be a challenge for the group, one that will not be gentle with its trials and tribulations as the weather, Grimm, and Salem’s goons alike put their patience, strength, and sanity through the absolute tightest wringer.
However, Qrow’s not worried, or at least not as worried as he would be alone. As long as Clover stands beside him, no matter the pain that may follow, a part of him will always be allowed to be comfortable.