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Clover had left Qrow’s room a few hours earlier. Once he’d gotten back to his room he’d started to pace, his mind racing.
It had been a few weeks since that first kiss and they’d continued their nightly check-ins, now with just a bit of a different atmosphere. They were still casual, and usually relatively short, unless one of them had had a particularly hard day. But they were a little looser with each other, falling more easily into a comfortable routine, not flinching nervously when the other leaned against them. And there had been more kisses. Even a few that had seemed like they might lead to something more.
That was when they’d admitted they needed to talk about how they were going to handle this aspect of their relationship. They both agreed that there were still a lot of things they needed to talk about before taking any big steps. Clover knew he had his own issues that he still had to tell Qrow about. And he knew Qrow wouldn’t let him shrug it off forever, wouldn’t let him continue to pretend that he was fine.
Qrow was especially sensitive to thinking he was being pitied, or that people were holding themselves back because they thought they had no place to be hurting, when his wounds were so much ‘bigger’. And Clover was pretty good most of the time about not falling into that kind of thinking. But Qrow had a tendency to worry that that was why Clover held back from talking about his own problems. Clover knew that Qrow hated being the one who ‘won’ the trauma lottery, who always had to choose his words carefully, not telling most people the full story - partially because that wasn’t who he was, but also because he knew as soon as his tragic backstory was known, the atmosphere would change. Clover knew that Qrow hated being reminded just how sad his story was by well-meaning people who thought they should tell him their pain was nothing in comparison.
But Clover also knew that, while his own problems weren’t less important, there was a lot more to Qrow's problems that would directly affect any decision they made about their relationship moving forward.
So, a few nights after the first kiss, Qrow had told him all about his past. And most importantly he’d told him all about Summer. About loving her, and about losing her. Then they just talked about him. About how everything had affected him. About all his fears, insecurities, anger, bitterness, worries, and longing surrounding relationships after Summer. He explained why, sometimes, telling Clover he loved him was the easiest thing in the world, and sometimes, it was a spiral of panic just waiting to happen. How sometimes his own desire to be close to Clover was enough to scare him so much that it was actually painful to do so. How he worried, putting aside his own fears about losing someone again, about how his pain would affect Clover. How he worried that Clover would feel like a replacement. That he’d resent Summer, or Qrow’s inability to move on from her.
Qrow had been as confident, strong, and unwavering as Clover had ever seen him when he told Clover how that would never happen. How no matter what happened with them, he would never be ‘over’ Summer, and how he never wanted to be - and that he would never apologize for that. But he had still wilted some then, as he explained how, as proud as he was of that certainty, he hated the idea of it hurting Clover. He worried that Clover would get tired of Qrow’s sudden, often unpredictable, tears surrounding any kind of intimacy. That he’d mistake Qrow’s sadness as him wishing he were with her rather than Clover. And how Qrow couldn’t tell him that that would never be at least somewhat true. But mostly it was about him feeling guilty for making Clover be in a relationship that would always have a ghost attached.
And Clover had listened, he had absorbed, and had been honest with Qrow like he’d promised. He’d told him that, yes, some of that was hard to hear, or worried him. That he couldn’t guarantee he’d never have some insecurity, at least at first, but that he wanted to work through it. He assured Qrow that he understood, and trusted him enough to work through that together.
A few weeks passed after that talk, and the nightly check-ins continued. Though they still hadn’t moved beyond some urgent, deep kisses, they were good with that. Both of them liked just letting themselves get used to this, without the pressure of what came next.
And then, a little over a week ago, Clover realized something during a briefing, as he really looked at the calendar on his scroll for the first time in a while. He’d been letting the days blur together a little, enjoying the routine of things. He knew of course what month it was, but it hadn’t really registered until then what that meant. So by the time he noticed, there was barely a week until Valentine’s day.
He’d gotten through the day, and luckily his visit in Qrow’s room had been short, Qrow being exhausted after a supply run with the kids. After he’d left, Clover’s head had been spinning, trying to figure out just what to do about the impending minefield of a holiday. They had talked about what this was between them, and decided that they were comfortable calling it a relationship. Even agreeing that, while not telling people quite yet, they could be a little less careful around each other in public. But Clover had no idea where they’d stand with this part of being in a relationship. He wasn’t even sure he could bring himself to talk about it with Qrow, unless the older man brought it up first. Would it presumptive of him to expect they do anything? Was it diminutive to expect they wouldn’t? He was way too in his head about it and had flipped back and forth on whether or not to broach the topic over and over again.
That had continued for the next week, with Clover waking up every morning, barely feeling rested, and his mind a little off during meetings and routine runs. He knew Qrow had noticed, and had tried to get him to talk. But Clover had promised him that he just needed some rest, and that he was just overthinking little things and wearing himself out, but nothing was wrong. Their nightly visits were now usually short and quiet, the two of them just sitting beside each other on Qrow’s bed until Qrow insisted Clover go to sleep.
And now. Now it was the night before and they’d still never talked about it. He was sure that Qrow hadn’t even acknowledged a calendar enough lately to realize what was coming up.
That evening, before dinner, Clover had panicked and rushed to a small flower shop in Mantle, determined to buy a small bouquet of red roses… before realizing that that was probably a bad idea. As were white roses…. Roses just seemed out of the question all together, actually… But could he really risk being completely empty-handed, on the off chance that Qrow did expect something? For a split second he actually considered just getting a bouquet of clovers. And then he wanted to sink into the pavement at how fucking pretentious that would come across, not to mention it being likely impossible to find. He had been standing outside the shop long enough by then that the owner had come out to ask if he needed anything. Clover shook his head and hoped he gave a convincing smile as he turned to leave. As he was walking home, his hand went instinctively to his rabbit’s foot. That was when it occurred to him.
He’d been antsy during dinner and forced himself to play it cool while he sat in Qrow’s room. Finally he’d hugged Qrow goodnight and headed back to his own room, thoughts running through his head so quickly he couldn’t even focus on what they were individually before another one replaced it.
He’d gotten the gift prepared before he’d gone to see Qrow, and now he just held it in his hands, thinking. He wasn’t going back on the decision, he knew it was what he wanted to do. But he was still worried, and that was what had him up most of the night, overthinking. He knew he’d promised Qrow that when he got in thought spirals like this he’d text him or come over - somehow let him know, like just like Qrow had promised to do with him. But this was different. He couldn’t just drop this on Qrow, since that was exactly why he was so worked up over it in the first place. Finally he just couldn’t look at the gift anymore and opened his bedside table drawer, carefully placing it inside and closing it again.
After that he’d sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, for who knows how long. He didn’t move again until he heard a knock on his door. He glanced at his scroll, groaning quietly. He’d left Qrow’s around midnight. It was 6:30. He hadn’t gotten even a minute of sleep. How was he supposed to handle today with no sleep, already tired from the awful sleep he’d had all week?
Certain that the person at the door was Marrow, or one of the other Ops, he ignored it, flopping onto his stomach and sighing. He hoped they’d think he was still asleep and give up - despite everyone knowing that Clover never slept past 6. Sure enough, after a moment, another knock came. Right as Clover was resigning himself to having to get up and tell them that he was feeling sick, he heard a voice, just loud enough to reach him without yelling.
“Clover?... Cloves? Let me in… please?...... I know you’re awake, Lucky Charm! I could practically hear you overthinking all the way down the hall.”
There was a slight, almost nervous chuckle. And Clover sat up, heart racing. Shit. He thought he’d have some time to prepare before seeing Qrow that morning. Time to get his shit together. But apparently not.
He cleared his throat, jumping up and fumbling to put his uniform on before rushing to the door. He’d only managed to slip his tunic on, and still hadn’t buttoned it up completely, when he opened the door, coming face to face with Qrow.
Qrow, who…. who was wearing a suit?… or at least the closest thing to a suit Clover had ever seen Qrow in. His cape was gone. There was a tie pulled loose around his neck and a slanted cross necklace, that Clover thought he remembered seeing him wearing when he’d first gotten to Atlas, was nestled carefully on top of the knot. His low neck shirt and vest had been changed out for a long sleeve black button up (the sleeves shockingly not bunched at Qrow’s elbows but buttoned at his wrists with cufflinks that matched his necklace), and a deep red waistcoat with black accents. His pants and boots were the same as always, and his bracelets and rings remained. But his hair was combed, and while still slightly messy, it was obviously more meticulously quaffed than Qrow usually had the patience for. Clover also noted that he didn’t have Harbinger with him. He knew that Qrow had struggled carrying Harbinger around for a few days after the night that Clover had found him, but they had talked about it and Qrow had seemed to move past it, not hesitating to pick his weapon up around Clover for weeks now. So why….
Clover was pulled out of his wandering thoughts by a stifled laugh. His eyes focused on Qrow’s face now, seeing the man nearly lose his balance as he held his left hand to his mouth, trying to stay quiet. Finally he straightened and smiled warmly at Clover, wiping a tear from his eye.
“I have a feeling that that might not be exactly regulation there, Cloves. How ‘bout you let me in while you finish getting dressed?”
Clover looked down and realized, with growing embarrassment, how utterly disheveled he looked. His tunic was not only not fully buttoned. It was lopsided and misbuttoned. And it was the only part of his uniform he’d managed to pull on; still wearing his sweatpants, and no socks. Ironically, it was his hair that was ruffled, rather than Qrow’s, from a night of messing with it in frustration.
Qrow saw him floundering and smiled kindly, placing his hand on Clover’s shoulder. He gently turned him around and led them into the room, the door closing behind them. He hit the light by the door and watched as Clover walked to his bed. Clover was frantically looking for his pants, which he’d managed to fling somewhere in his haste. And Qrow noticed that the bed was made, something he was sure Clover hadn’t just done that morning.
“Clover? Did you sleep at all last night?” He turned, putting something that he’d been holding in his right hand down in the chair by the coffee table near the door, and walked over to Clover.
Clover hadn’t even noticed Qrow holding something before, and now the shorter man was blocking his view of whatever it had been. And then he remembered what he himself had been holding all night. He hastily checked his bedside drawer to see it was still there, before shutting it again, right as Qrow reached him. Qrow raised an eyebrow at the quick movement but let it go, instead leaning to pick up Clover’s pants from the end of the bed. He laid them by Clover, who had gone back to his spot on the edge of his bed. Qrow then crouched in front of Clover, gently putting his hand on the younger huntsman’s knee.
“You alright there, Lucky Charm?” He pushed himself back up slightly and reached to brush a stray hair out of Clover’s face. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, obviously a little concerned.
Clover stammered for just a moment before his voice finally worked.
“N-no. I mean…. Yeah… yeah I’m fine, just….. Couldn’t sleep…. Like you said, overthinkin….”
He trailed off, realizing just how tired he really was after a week of restless sleep and now a night of none at all.
Qrow frowned slightly, pushing his hands up off his own knees and standing, huffing slightly. He moved towards Clover, reaching down gently and unbuttoning his distorted tunic.
“Why didn’t you let me know? I could’ve come over and calmed you down, or just kept you company.” His voice was soft, kind, more worried than hurt.
“I…. It wasn’t like that… I just…. Had some stuff to think about that I didn’t want to bother yo-”
He paused, seeing Qrow about to object to the idea that he would be a bother. “No. I just mean, it was just some stuff I needed to figure out myself.” Clover smiled, his head slowly clearing. He tilted his chin to look up at the ceiling, now focusing on trying not to think about how dumb he had looked opening the door.
He looked down when he noticed that Qrow had finished unbuttoning his tunic, and was having to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Clover saw why; he was still wearing the tank top he’d slept… or not slept, in - an old, ratty, bright green thing with a cartoon four leaf clover on it and some cheesy phrase about feeling lucky, that his sister had given him years before as a birthday present. He only ever wore it when going to see Qrow, knowing that it would always receive an adorable chuckle and snarky quip. But it definitely didn’t belong under his uniform. He paled at the idea of Ironwood seeing him in it. Or worse...Marrow, or any of the kids. They would all find way too much enjoyment in it, and their teasing wouldn’t be nearly as endearing as Qrow’s. He laughed weakly.
“Whoops…. Guess I was still kinda in my head...”
Qrow rolled his eyes, fumbling with the collar of Clover’s tunic, and smiling at the contrast of it, now significantly wrinkled, over the ridiculous shirt. They stayed like that for a moment, awkwardly, Clover still in his undone tunic and sweats with Qrow standing in front of him, both unsure of what to do next. Finally Clover spoke.
“So… why’d you… I mean… did you need… I mean... “
He sighed, dragging his hand over his face, feeling a few day’s worth of stubble pull against his skin. He’d been too tired to wake up early enough to shave the past couple of days. He shook his head and looked at Qrow, up and down, before smiling goofily.
“I mean.. You look… nice. Great! You look….” He paused, pretending to adjust Qrow’s tie, leaning forward slightly and grinning.
“Didn’t think I’d ever be lucky enough to see you in a tie.”
Qrow just rolled his eyes and scoffed, pushing Clover’s face away from him affectionately before turning and sitting beside him.
“Thanks. Guess we’re both seeing a different side of each other this morning.” He teased, brushing his thumb over Clover’s stubble. Clover didn’t miss the tiny shiver in Qrow’s hand at the rough texture.
“I was beginning to think you just magically woke up clean shaven every day.”
“Dang it! I’ve ruined my mystique!” He smirked, squinting at Qrow jokingly.
Qrow chuckled and leaned against Clover’s shoulder, so much easier than he would have done just a few weeks before, and took his hand, interlocking their fingers.
“Yeah… where will your magnetic charm come from now that that grand illusion is broken? I’ll have to find some other thing to find attractive about you… that’ll be such a struggle, I’m sure.” He looked up at Clover, nudging his shoulder playfully, and winked.
Clover pretended he didn’t feel his face turn bright red at that, and he recovered from the wink before smirking back at the older man.
“Well, just imagine being in my position! You all put together like this?” He gestured dramatically to Qrow.
“What am I gonna do without that unkempt broodiness to lure me in?”
Qrow actually stuck his tongue out at him, his eyes and nose scrunching up. Clover had to actively steady himself on the bed so as to not fall back on the bed and bury his face in his hands, like a smitten school girl, at how damn cute that was.
They sat like that for a minute, not at all awkward, just comfortable. Qrow’s leg knocking against Clover’s playfully every so often. Clover was the first to speak again.
“Really though… Not that I’m not a fan of the new look. Cause, trust me…. I am. But… what’s the occasion?” He hoped he sounded convincingly oblivious.
“For someone who actually has a great poker face when he wants to, you’re painfully transparent when you’re tired, Lucky Charm. There’s no way you haven’t looked at a calendar in the last few weeks.”
Qrow smiled and puffed up his chest a bit, like he was preparing himself for something, before jumping up and retrieving the item he’d placed in the chair earlier.
Clover’s jaw dropped as Qrow, who suddenly was looking a little sheepish behind his puffed up facade, held a bouquet out towards him.
“I… I know we never talked about it or anything… And I know you probably were trying to give me space because you thought this might be something kind of hard for…” His eyes flickered to the bouquet and then back to Clover.
“And maybe I should have brought it up myself so that you didn’t… ya’know… stay up the entire night before, worrying about it…” He rolled his eyes lovingly at Clover’s surprised look.
“I told you, Cloves. Could practically hear it coming down the hall…. But anyway… I just thought. I don’t know... I was worried that if I turned it into some big talk, we’d both just get all in our heads about it and it would feel like some…. Like something we’d have to manage… and I…” He sighed, finally taking another breath and slowing down.
“I don’t want you to think that we’ll always have to just manage stuff like that… I wanted you to know that I…” He stepped closer to Clover, placing the flowers in his lap and leaning to press his lips to his forehead gently.
“That I don’t just have to ‘deal’ with my feelings for you…. That I enjoy them... I enjoy you. Us. That I… that I want...I’m excited to celebrate this.”
Clover’s face was burning hot, his eyes wide, mouth hanging open, as he stared down at the flowers in his hands. It wasn’t from a shop like the one he’d tried to go to the day before. It was a bundle of wildflowers, surrounded by strands of ivy, all held together with what Clover was realizing was a small strip of Qrow’s cape. But the thing that held his gaze was the flower in the exact center.
He realized Qrow had been talking for a minute, scratching the back of his head shyly.
“ -tried a flower shop in Mantle, but they were talking about ‘flower language’ stuff and I had absolutely no idea what to do there-” He took a breath.
“Or what you’d like... so I just decided to do it myself…. Then I couldn’t exactly find any clovers…. And I happened to find some ivy, so I went with that... .… but I wanted there to actually be something nice, ya’know...so I went back and got the….Cause…” Another breath, finally.
“I just thought maybe…. I don’t know… It might have been a bad idea and weird….maybe I should’ve just stuck with…..”
Clover’s vision blurred with tears as he stared at the single white rose tucked into the wildflowers and ivy, his breath catching in his throat.
Qrow had paused, pinching the bridge of his nose, starting to step back, obviously trying to force himself to speak slower, to just slow down.
“I just thought…. I wanted to show you that… you know… that you… that you’re not a consolation pr-”
“Q-qrow, I….”
“Shit…. This was too much, right? Right. I shouldn’t have… And especially when we hadn’t even talked about… I’m sorry just…I got carried away... Just prete-.”
Clover cradled the flowers carefully as he stood and gently pushed past Qrow, who stammered as he turned and watched Clover walk to a small closet.
“C-clo-..? I.. I mean… I know we didn’t talk so… and of course I didn’t expect you to have anythin….I just… Clover… Just… just forget it, okay? It… It was a stu...”
Clover didn’t speak as he grabbed an old vase from behind a stack of towels. Someone had given it to him as a congratulations on getting the Ace Ops position. He’d kept it around, but never really seen the point of it before now. He went into the bathroom and filled it with water, before slipping the flowers in, making sure the strip of cloth was secure and high enough to not get wet. Then he came back out and sat it on the table by the door, before walking back to Qrow, who was glassy eyed and biting his cheek nervously, keeping himself from talking.
Clover didn’t care about his unbuttoned tunic, or his dumb shirt, or his sweatpants, or his messy hair, or the bags under his eyes, or his scruffy stubble. He didn’t care about any of that as he pulled Qrow to him, one hand around his waist and the other at the nape of his neck.
The only thing he could think about was how absolutely astounding this man was. How he was kind, and thoughtful, and patient, and protective, and brave, and dependable. How incomprehensible it was that anyone could see him as cold or callous or unrefined. How he’d do anything to keep this beautiful, strong, resilient, loving man from experiencing anymore pain in his life. How he knew that that was impossible, that he would watch the man before him suffer more than he could ever fully understand, that he hoped with everything in him that he would never be able understand, and that he wouldn’t be able to stop it. How, despite that, he wanted to be there anyway. Always. How he never wanted Qrow Branwen to have to deal with his pain alone ever again.
That was all Clover could think about as he pressed his lips to Qrow’s, feeling the shorter man stiffen slightly and then sink into him, one hand clutching the edge of his tunic and the other gripping Clover’s hip to steady himself in the sudden embrace. After a moment Clover pulled away, staring at Qrow. Who was looking back up at him, eyes slightly unfocused, cheeks flushed and lips ever so slightly swollen.
“Thank you, Qrow.”
Qrow just stared, mouth still slightly parted.
“You have absolutely no clue how utterly amazing you are, do you?” He asked quietly, not expecting an answer.
“I-”
“You are… You... Shit… Qrow…. you... “ Clover pressed another soft kiss to his lips, smiling as he spoke without pulling away.
“I am so thoroughly in love with you, you beautiful, stubborn, old bird.”
Qrow chuckled weakly, tears in the corner of his eyes.
“Clover…. I….”
Clover pulled away gently, holding Qrow in place for a moment before letting go and turning to reach over and open his bedside drawer, picking something up and holding it tightly in his fist, before standing in front of Qrow again. He took Qrow’s hand in his free one and pressed a kiss to it before placing his closed fist in it, pushing Qrow’s fingers to curl up over his knuckles, and then resting his open palm on top.
“I’ve been second guessing myself for weeks. About whether to bring it up or wait for you to. If it would be too forward to assume we’d do something, or rude to assume we wouldn’t. Not knowing what you’d want...what you’d need… If you were ready for something like this… Or if it would bring up old memories… and whether that’d be good or if you’d feel bad for…If you’d think you had to protect me from knowing how much you’d be thinking of her…” He paused, now having to make himself pace his words, wishing that his hand would stop visibly shaking like that.
“I don’t know.. I…. I thought a lot about it. About the right way… if there was a right way… about what I felt and what I wanted. And what you felt and wanted….and… and what I’d do if those didn’t match up…. And…. I thought about everything I don’t know. All the stuff I’ll never know, because you can’t possibly tell me everything that I know you feel about her… or… or about me….” He felt his knees starting to lock and pulled Qrow down with him so that they could sit back on the bed, without letting go of his hand. He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Qrow’s eyes and not look away.
“...I thought about her.. About Summer. About how much I wish I’d gotten to meet her…. To tha- to thank her...To show her how important you are to me… how important ….. How important she is to me.” He wouldn’t look away. This was too important.
“How much I understand that I don’t get you, without also getting her. And how I wouldn’t want it any other way…. I love every part of you, Qrow. With every part of myself. And she is part of you. She is why you are the man I fell in love with. How-” He chuckled and let himself smile, his free hand, now steady, reaching to wipe a tear from Qrow’s cheek.
“How can I not love her?” He glanced down as he saw Qrow’s free hand move, worried that this was too much, that he was pushing him too far, too fast. But Qrow’s hand had just curled around the hem of Clover’s tank top, his thumb running over the fabric slowly.
“ I- I didn’t… I didn’t know whether you were ready to hear that…. Or how to even say it…And then last night, before dinner, I went down to that...Ha… I guess that same flower shop. I was going to get you some big bouquet... but nothing seemed right. I didn’t know if roses would be respectful or…. I didn’t know if you’d want me to try to make her a part of…..” He stroked Qrow’s cheek, laughing at himself a little.
“I stood outside that place for waaaaay too long… trying to figure out what to do… but nothing felt right, so I left... And then, walking home, I realized.”
He took his hand from Qrow’s cheek and looked down as he placed it under Qrow’s hand, still curled around his fist. His thumb ran over Qrow’s knuckles as he took a moment to close his eyes and breathe, before looking back up at Qrow and smiling.
“She’s a part of you. She always will be. And trying to symbolize that, or me trying to quantify that somehow… didn’t feel right…. But… but showing you that… That I want to be a part of you, alongside her… and that both of you are part of me now…. That I want the parts of you that are her just as much as the parts that aren’t… and that I know those aren’t identifiable like that.… showing you that… that felt right. Immediately… and… well, this was the only thing that made sense… the only thing I could think of that could mean that for me… that could show you how certain I am that this… that you, are what I want.”
Clover glanced down as he opened his fist and pressed the green and silver pin into Qrow’s palm, before looking back up at him, his own tears forming now. They fell as he saw the realization wash over Qrow.
Qrow scrambled to push the pin back into Clover’s hand, fumbling, pushing himself up onto his knees urgently, nearly losing his balance. And for a split second Clover saw in Qrow’s eyes that fear that had overcome him that first night; the panic that by loving Clover he was putting him in danger.
“Cl-clover I can’t take…. This is… You need this!”
Clover cupped Qrow’s hand around the pin, pulling Qrow towards him by the waist, and catching their hands between their chests as he pressed his cheek to Qrow’s ear, nestling his chin in the crook of his neck.
“As long as it’s with you, I’ll have it. It’s part of me. It’s my reminder of what’s important to me, what I want to protect. And you’re what’s most important to me now. I don’t need something to remind me of that... So you keep it. You make it a part of you, right beside those parts of Summer.” Clover’s eyes flickered to the necklace over Qrow’s tie.
“... and I’ll know it’s where it belongs… I’m where I belong.”
Qrow snorted in a half sob, half laugh, his free hand threading through Clover’s hair. His voice was steady but heavy with barely controlled emotion.
“You know, Cloves...Every time I think I’ve seen how sappy you can get, you surprise me…” He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Clover’s temple.
“Th-thank you, Clover…..Thank you for…. For….for saying… for her…. For understan-...”
And finally he broke, burying his face in Clover’s neck, quietly weeping. Clover guided him down, off his knees, further on the bed. He pulled his legs up beside him, allowing himself to support Qrow’s weight as he gently rubbed his back, humming quietly. He knew how feeling the vibration in his chest helped soothe Qrow. He didn’t speak, aware that any of what he wanted to say right then would just feed the tears. They were good tears though. They were relief, safety, acceptance, hope. Qrow needed this.
When Qrow seemed to have quieted fully, Clover gently nudged him, pulling back slightly to look down at him.
“Hey, Birdie. What do you need?”
Qrow nuzzled his head back into Clover’s neck, smiling, and the warmth of his breath sent chills down Clover’s spine.
“Just this.” His voice was quiet, scratchy after crying, but happy.
Clover hummed in acknowledgement and moved them so that he could lean back against the headboard with Qrow still pressed to his chest. Clover closed his eyes, remembering how tired he was all at once. He started to drift a little before forcing himself to speak, mumbling.
“We should… mmm.. get breakfast… I know you didn’t really eat dinner last night. You…hmm.. You must be hungry…And people’ll start wonderi-” He yawned, pressing his cheek into Qrow’s hair. “ Where we are...”
Qrow’s voice was muffled against his neck.
“ Let ‘em. Too comfy….”
Clover chuckled and they were quiet for a few minutes. Clover was just about asleep when Qrow spoke, turning his head so Clover could hear him clearly.
“Ya’know… I had planned on coming by to pick you up earlier and take you out somewhere…”
“Yeah? Where?” Clover asked, his eyes closed, wrapping his arms tighter around Qrow’s waist and rubbing his stubbly cheek against the, once again messy, black hair.
“Hadn’t decided. Wanted to let you choose what you wanted to do for our …. Our first real date, I guess.”
Clover was glad Qrow couldn’t see the immediate flush that brought to his cheeks.
“Oh… well… umm…” He tried and failed to stifle his yawn.
“Or we could leave that for another time and stay here all day… You could take a nap and I’ll get food and just tell people that… that my boyfriend and I are…. taking the holiday off….” He smirked to himself, waiting for a reaction.
“Yeah…. Yeah that soun-....” Clover started to mumble, pressing down into the mattress for a moment before registering what Qrow had said.
“Wait… really? Like… like everyone? What about General-”
“I can deal with Jimmy… he’s actually not as awful as I act like he is… We… I can talk to him.”
Clover reluctantly let Qrow pull away, the warmth of his bed pulling him in. Qrow maneuvered the taller man, sliding the tunic from his shoulders and pulling the comforter up over him.
“I’ll go get food and… very quickly let people know we’re out of commission for the rest of the day…. Pretty sure that might end up resulting in some bet payouts but….” He grinned as Clover laughed groggily at that.
“You just rest… and the only thing you need to be thinking about is what you want to do after your nap.”
He pressed a kiss to Clover’s temple and turned to leave. But a hand shot out and caught his wrist before he could get off the bed. Clover was sitting up slightly, eyes focusing on Qrow, with what Qrow could tell was a good bit of effort.
“Qrow… I uh…. Hmm... I know what… mmm” He frowned as he yawned again.
“Save it for later, Cloves, you can barely hold your head up.”
“N-no… I want… I wanna make sure it’s okay…” He grinned and let go of Qrow’s wrist, patting his cheek lightly, in a way that was at first jokingly patronizing, but quickly turning into a gentle caress.
“But… you gotta promise me two things, ok?”
“And what’s that?”
“Gotta promise to tell the truth… and to...mmm… not to cry.” He smiled, trying to keep the moment light.
Qrow raised an eyebrow.
“O..okay?”
“No, I mean it.” Clover tried to change to a glare but his eyes just kept wanting to close.
“Ughhh. I mean it, no water works. It...it’s happy… It’d make me happy….” He paused and watched Qrow, his face a little steadier, serious.
“But… you have to be honest. If you don’t want… if it’s not a good time…I won’t be ups-”
“I promise, Clover.”
Clover smiled and laid back down, mumbling.
“....Want you to tell me… tell me more about Summer….” He laughed to himself smiling.
“I like how happy you look when you talk ‘bout her…” He paused and cracked an eye open to see that Qrow had turned away from him, a hand to his mouth, and obviously trying to keep his shoulders steady.
Clover clumsily threw a hand up, laughing and mumbling happily.
“Ha! I knew it! You’re sappy too, Mr. Tall Dark and Brooding!”
Qrow spun around to face him and for a split second Clover worried that he’d crossed a line, that he was about to actually get yelled at. But Qrow was smiling as tears streaked down his cheeks.
“That’s because you don’t fucking play fair, Ebi!” He leaned forward quickly, pressing one hand over Clover’s eyes as he kissed him. It was quick, strong, and playfully annoyed.
“Now shut your eyes and get some fucking rest. I’ll go get food and be back in a bit.”
Clover thought maybe he wasn’t comfortable with it and just didn’t want to tell him no right then.
“Qrow… It’s.. it’s okay..”
Qrow’s hand was still over his eyes, so he didn’t see the eye roll as the older huntsman hopped off the bed.
“Eyes closed! Sleep! Stop thinking and just sleep….”
And Clover just barely caught him mumble to himself.
“How do I keep managing to fall for goofy brats?”
Clover grinned as he buried his face in his pillow. He didn’t see Qrow pin the charm to his vest, his thumb glancing over it, and the cross over his tie, all in one motion.
Qrow paused and smiled as he stood at the door, turning back to look at Clover, who was already digging himself deeper under the covers. “I’ll think of some good stories that I haven’t told you yet.”