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Flurries of snow swirled past Clover in the icy wind, so thick he could barely make out the Grimm in the air in front of him. The huge Teryx was beating its wings to stay aloft above the large plaza, the massive gusts of air driving up even more snow into the air. It was the last Grimm in the latest pack to attack Mantle, the ashes of the rest of the pack strewn about the plaza and the connecting avenues.
“We need to ground it!” Clover called out. “Blake, left!”
“Got it!” He felt a whoosh as she darted past him and onward towards the Grimm.
Clover took off in a sprint towards the right side of the Teryx. He gripped Kingfisher in his hand, and scanned the translucent membrane of the creature’s wing, looking for any weak points. The Grimm whipped its head back and forth between Clover and Blake, before its gaze suddenly snapped to something straight ahead. A small black shape fluttered in front of its face, grabbing the Grimm’s attention. It darted out of the way as a toothy maw snapped at it, the Teryx biting down on empty air.
With the Grimm distracted above him, Clover took the opening. He extended the line on Kingfisher and cast the line through the air. It arced high over the Teryx’s wing, flying to the other side of its body. Clover sprinted underneath the creature, bringing the line under the wing, and skidded to a stop in the snow in front of a wide avenue.
He gave the pin on his chest a quick flick, just as a whirl of black and white shot over the back of the Teryx and arced towards him. Clover snatched Blake’s weapon out of the air by the hilt. The golden sliver that ran through the blade of Gambol Shroud glimmered faintly. Trusting that Blake had caught Kingfisher's line, Clover bolted down the avenue.
After a dozen steps he felt the tension catch in both his line and Gambol’s ribbon. The Teryx let out a disgruntled hiss. Clover yanked on the lines and kept trying to pull backwards, putting all his strength into it. The entrance of the avenue was wide enough that Clover could still see the Teryx: could see where Kingfisher's wire was caught around the thinnest part of the wing, pressing the shoulder of the Grimm backwards. Its shrieks of rage grew louder as it flailed, desperately trying to stay airborne.
Above the Teryx there was a tiny flash of light, and then Qrow plummeted downwards, now in human form and with Harbinger extended before him. The edge of the scythe caught on the crest of icy spikes at the back of the Teryx's head, just as Qrow touched down on the creature's shoulders.
Clover grinned. It was riskier than going for the tail, but of course his boyfriend would choose to ride a dragon.
Qrow pulled Harbinger, snapping back the Teryx's head back and bearing its throat. "Come on, firecracker!" he yelled above the creature’s guttural growls.
Before he’d even finished speaking, a gout of flame shot out from the far side of the alley. Clover caught a quick glimpse of burning golden hair before Yang leapt into the air and delivered a thundering uppercut to the unprotected underside of the Teryx's head.
The tension in the lines gave way as the Grimm began to crumble to dust. Qrow propelled himself off the back of the disintegrating creature, landing in the middle of the plaza next to Yang. Clover walked out of the alley, pulling up the slack in Kingfisher as he went. "Nice work everyone," he said. He met Blake where the lines of their weapons had crossed. "That was well coordinated; good job Blake."
"Thank you," she replied, handing Kingfisher's hook back to him and accepting her weapon. “It’s great working with someone who has a weapon like mine. I’m learning a lot”
"You two are getting stronger every day," Qrow said, leaning his weight on Harbinger's sword form. "You've both come a long way."
Another voice called out from behind them. "That was impressive!"
Clover turned and saw May and Fiona walking towards them, weapons hefted over their shoulders. The blue-haired Huntress was smiling, "Sad we couldn't join in!"
"Ah there's still plenty of Grimm out there," Qrow said, pulling the tip of Harbinger out of the snow and retracting it. "That shift went fast."
"Time flies when you're having fun killing Grimm!" Yang quipped.
As the newly arrived Huntresses joined up with the group, Fiona piped up, “There hasn’t been any activity from Atlas, so Qrow and Clover can go off shift. The rest of us can keep patrolling for now.”
"Alright!" Yang pumped a fist. "Ladies night Grimm hunting."
"Keep each other safe!" Qrow called out, waving back to the group. He turned and began walking out of the plaza, Clover falling into stride alongside him. His partner let out a groan. "I'm getting old, I can barely keep up with Yang."
Clover laughed. He slid an arm around Qrow's waist and pulled him closer. "Ah don't worry, you looked great to me. Especially when you landed on the Teryx."
Qrow grinned, a little mischievous, and bumped Clover's hip with his own. "Yeah that was pretty cool, wasn't it?"
They walked through the city together, never letting go of each other. It was very late, nearly midnight. Mantle never really slept, especially with the recent Grimm attacks, but at this hour the pulse of the city had slowed.
Clover glanced up at the rocky underbelly of Atlas. Thick metal tethers stretched across the sky, coming together at a connection point at the base of the floating city. A few guard ships circled the area, but nothing was headed towards Mantle.
It had been a little more than a week since Clover had left Atlas, and his injury had healed enough for him to join in the defence of Mantle against Salem's Grimm attacks. The creatures attacked at random hours throughout the day, at times in large waves, but often in small groups, just enough to keep the populace on edge. They still had to contend with some Atlesian interference as well, though that activity had apparently become less frequent since Clover had left Atlas. The Happy Huntresses, along with Qrow and the teams, had organized a rotating schedule of patrols that had a team of hunters ready to intercept Grimm at all times, swapping out regularly. It was an effective system, keeping everyone well rested, but it often led to odd hours. For Qrow and Clover, it was essentially dinner time.
But Clover had anticipated that.
"Want to get something to eat?" Clover inquired.
"Yes, I'm starving," Qrow replied, tipping his head back. "That last fight lasted a while. But is there anything open at this hour?"
"I know a place that's open for another couple hours. It's not too far from the Huntresses base either, so I can radio in and let them know we'll be out for a bit longer."
"Sounds perfect." Qrow leaned into Clover's side and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "Lead the way."
They arrived at the restaurant just after midnight. This district of Mantle, just a few blocks away from the mess of alleys containing their hidden base, was split between a series of terraces at different elevations, as the roadways twisted around a natural hill in the local landscape. The streets were lined with old brick buildings, tight alleyways squeezed between them leading down to the lower terraces. It was packed and somewhat disorganized, nothing like the orderly rows of shops in Atlas. Clover had missed the chaotic feel of the city; it reminded him much more of Argus than Atlas ever had.
He guided Qrow down one of the narrow alleys. Halfway down the steps was a red fabric awning over a darkly varnished wooden door, propped open. Printed on the awning in crisp white letters was ‘The Duchess of Mantle’.
“This is it!” Clover declared, and gestured for Qrow to enter.
The interior was dimly lit by rows of warm lights embedded into the thick wooden beams along the ceiling, with smaller lights wrapped around evenly spaced, large wooden columns. Brick walls contrasted with the abundance of dark wood throughout the establishment. Directly across from the entrance was an empty stage backed by a deep red curtain.
"Cozy," Qrow remarked.
Clover glanced at him and asked, "Romantic?"
"With the right company?" Qrow smiled at him. "Yeah."
A voice called out from their right, "Ah, Clover!"
Stretching across the entire right side of the restaurant was a bar, empty glasses stacked high next to the taps. Three patrons sat at it, watching a sports rerun on a screen above the bar. The wall flanking the bar was packed with photographs and newspaper clippings surrounding a map of Remnant dotted with coloured pins. Behind the bar, hand raised in a wave, was a elderly Atlesian man in a grey speckled hat that matched the salt and pepper in his moustache and beard. "Late night for you," he said warmly.
"Yes, patrolling for Grimm," Clover answered. "Table for two?"
"Sit wherever you'd like, I'll be with you shortly!"
Wooden tables of varying sizes and designs were scattered around the rest of the room. A few were occupied, but the majority were free.
Qrow chuckled as they walked towards one of the smaller tables, tucked close to a window. "Do you know everyone in this city?"
Clover grinned, "Well, not quite everyone."
As they reached the table, Qrow pulled Harbinger off his belt and laid it against the wall next to his chair. They sat, and let out a simultaneous sigh of relief, shortly followed by laughter.
"Sounds like you've had a long day," Clover quipped.
"Right back at ya'!" Qrow sprawled out on his seat, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a huge, cat-like yawn. "A huntsman's work is never done, is it?"
"Doesn't seem like it," Clover replied, rolling his shoulders. "In all my years, I've never seen Grimm swarms like these."
Qrow grimaced. "I have. In the Wastes. Thousands of Grimm, as far as my eyes could see." He sighed. "But seeing them attacking a city like this is a whole new level of nightmare."
The thought of Qrow having traveled into the Wastelands made Clover's heart clench, but before he could press for more information, the owner approached their table.
"Evening, gentleman. Or good morning I suppose!" He slid two paper menus onto the table, then reached a hand towards Qrow. "Name's Sean, pleased to meet you."
"Qrow Branwen," he replied, shaking Sean's hand. "Nice place. Hope the Grimm haven't caused you too much trouble."
"No, not too bad. No worse than the embargo, in any case." Clover felt a pang of guilt, but Sean seemed quite philosophic about his business woes. "I think people like to hold on to a bit of normalcy, even during times like these." He clapped his hands together, "But enough of that! One of the supply transports from the coast was able to get in a few days ago, so we have pretty much everything on the menu. Can I get you anything to drink?" As he pulled a notepad out of his pocket, he added, "Tonight's our weekly dry night, hope that's no trouble to you?"
Qrow blinked in surprise before quickly responding, "Uh no, no trouble at all! Water's fine."
"Same here," Clover added. "Thanks Sean!"
Clover glanced down at his menu as Sean walked back to the bar. He was about to make a few recommendations, but before he could speak, Qrow reached across the table and took one of Clover's hands in his own. Clover's eyes snapped up to a crimson gaze, crow's feet gathering at the edges of his partner's eyes as he smiled.
"Did you plan to come here tonight on purpose?" Qrow asked, his tone curious and a little disbelieving.
Clover responded simply, smiling back at Qrow. "Yeah."
Shock flickered across Qrow's face, followed by some deep emotion Clover couldn't quite identify, before he flushed slightly and looked back down at his menu. But his hand didn't move, and after a moment, he squeezed Clover's fingers. "Thanks, Cloves," he all but whispered, his voice tender. "You didn't have to go to any trouble."
"It's not a trouble Qrow," Clover said, squeezing his hand back. "Not when it's you." He caught Qrow's gaze as the man looked back up at him, eyes widened. "But even if it was, I don't mind putting in the extra work for you."
Qrow’s surprised look transformed into a soft, affectionate smile. His gaze shifted back down to the menu, though he still held on to Clover's hand, idly grazing his fingers across gloved knuckles. "Does this place remind you of home?"
"It does!" Clover grinned, "Best fish in all of Mantle, especially the shrimp. Though the smoked fish isn’t quite as good as how they do it in Argus."
"Well, I can't wait to eat there someday too," Qrow said, flashing Clover a casual smile.
At first Clover was simply happy that Qrow was feeling optimistic about defeating Salem's siege. But then the deeper implication struck him like a bolt of lightning.
Qrow wanted to visit his home. And given they were at war, that would be fairly far in the future. Qrow saw himself with Clover in that future.
"Cloves?"
"Huh?"
Qrow waved his free hand in front of Clover's eyes, his grin now turned wry. "Any recommendations?"
"Right!" Mentally shaking himself out of his stupor, Clover listed off his favourite dishes to Qrow.
"How about this?" Qrow asked, pointing to the spot on the menu advertising shared dishes. Qrow's finger hovered over the 'Fisherman's Platter', which included roasted shrimp and pan fried cod, a favourite of Clover's. "Should be enough for the two of us."
Clover hummed thoughtfully before replying, "But I thought crows didn't like to share?"
He had to fight to keep a straight face as Qrow's expression shifted to the delightful combination of amused and annoyed that Clover loved so much. The other man’s red eyes narrowed, but his lips clearly struggled not to turn up into a grin. Qrow planted an elbow on the table and leaned in closer, raising an eyebrow. "You're a bit of a brat, you know?"
"Yeah," Clover said smoothly, not missing a beat. "But you like brats."
Qrow's expression faltered for a moment, then he let out a short, sharp laugh. He leaned in even closer to whisper, "Can't argue with that," and then pressed a quick kiss to Clover's cheek.
Clover could do nothing to hide the blush rising on his face. But as Qrow leaned back he noted, with satisfaction, that his partner was sporting a similar flush.
Sean came back and took their order, and soon enough they were digging into a huge platter of seafood. Clover was partial to the flavourful, flaky codfish, while Qrow clearly discovered a new love of shrimp.
Qrow asked more questions about Clover's home and family in Argus while they ate. Clover hadn't spoken about his home in a long time; there were very few people he considered close enough to share those memories with. He felt a warmth growing in his heart as he regaled Qrow with stories from his childhood and the huntsman listened with rapt interest. Qrow interjected with questions a handful of times, laughed heartily at Clover's jokes, and kept an unwavering smile the entire time. A smile that reached his eyes. Clover loved seeing that smile.
His stories of fishing adventures off the coast of Argus lasted through the entire platter. After taking the final shrimp, at Clover's insistence, Qrow leaned back in his chair with a groan. "I'm stuffed, that was amazing!"
"Told you it was the best in Mantle!" Clover flagged Sean down, who picked up the empty platter and deposited a small dish of mints on the table.
"Glad you liked it, gentlemen! I can get your bill settled up at the bar whenever you're ready."
Qrow snatched up one of the mints while looking at Clover with a soft fondness. Smiling, he ran his other hand back through his hair almost absentmindedly. "Thanks for bringing me here, Cloves. This was special."
"Well, we're not quite finished yet." To Qrow's inquisitive gaze, he gave only a quick wink. "Just let me settle up."
"Wanna split it?" Qrow asked.
"I'd like to treat you to this, if that's alright."
The other man grinned at that. "Alright. But I'm treating you next time."
Clover's own smile grew even wider at the reference to a 'next time'. He picked up a mint himself and chewed on it as he walked over to the bar. The restaurant was quieter than when they had entered, but wasn't completely empty yet. One other couple at another table were finishing up their meal, and a handful of people huddled around one end of the bar, laughing amongst themselves.
While he laid down his lien, he quietly asked, "The back still open for a bit?"
"Yep," Sean replied. "I'll be closing up in about twenty minutes, but it's yours 'til then. Haven't had much in the way of shows recently, so I'm glad it'll see some use!"
He thanked Sean, then walked back to his partner, who was clipping his weapon back onto his belt.
"Alright, I'm ready for this surprise of yours," Qrow said, holding a hand out.
Clover took Qrow's hand, sliding their fingers together smoothly. He inclined his head towards the stage. "Right this way."
He allowed himself to revel a bit in Qrow's confused look as they climbed up on top of the stage. With his free hand he pulled the side of the dark red curtain back, ushering Qrow inside. He let the thick curtain swing closed behind him as he followed through. The area behind the stage was crammed with stands for instruments, mics, and sheet music, all empty aside from the mic stands. A set of dark scuffs marked the floor, all the way from where Qrow and Clover stood to another curtain at the back of the room.
"This place has live shows fairly regularly," Clover explained as he led Qrow towards the back. "Most musicians bring their own instruments. But some of the big instruments are kept here instead..."
He pulled back the second curtain, and heard Qrow gasp. Glancing over, Clover's heart skipped a beat at his partner's joyous, wide-eyed expression. He gave Qrow's hand a gentle squeeze, then pulled him into the smaller back room.
The space was lit by a few bare lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling, casting a soft glow around the room. Alone in the centre stood an old piano. It was an upright, the rectangular backing made of a dark stained wood that had begun to fade with age. The music stand and fallboard were marred by several small scuff and marks, and the edge of the metal pedals had begun to tarnish slightly. But Clover knew it still played beautifully.
He leaned a bit closer to Qrow and murmured, "I told you I'd make it up to you."
Qrow slowly tore his gaze away from the piano to look at Clover. After a quiet moment of shock seemed to pass, he laughed, light and airy and nearly giddy. "You really planned this, didn't you?"
Clover felt a smitten smile grow across his face. "Yeah. I could hardly wait to bring you here."
Qrow looked back at the piano, obviously thrilled. He glanced at Clover. "May I?"
Grinning, Clover waved a hand towards the bench. "Be my guest."
He let his gaze wander over Qrow's tall, lean figure as the man pulled out the piano bench and took a seat before the keys. Qrow knitted his fingers together and flexed them forward, rolling his shoulders along with the motion. Clover moved to stand next to the piano, curious about what Qrow would choose to play. After a still moment, Qrow straightened his posture and lifted the fallboard before settling his hands on the keys, long fingers sliding into place atop the ivory and ebony pieces.
Qrow began playing a taut, declarative theme. After a controlled opening, his hands jumped up the keys, the sounds of a bombastic march echoing around the small room.
Clover's expression broke into a grin. He remembered this one from the set Qrow had performed on election night. It was such an energetic piece, and like most of the pieces Qrow seemed to prefer, had a strong structure to it. It had surprised Clover -- he hadn't expected the huntsman to gravitate towards such pieces.
Qrow's playing transitioned into the second section of the piece, an airy, lyrical melody with a somewhat melancholic colour. Most of the songs Qrow played had that moody quality to them as well. Clover found it captivating.
He watched the way Qrow's fingers danced across the keys with awe. He noticed the subtle furrow in Qrow's brow, a sure sign he was focusing intently on the task at hand. As the piece transitioned back to the march theme, Clover found himself fascinated by the way Qrow's red eyes darted around to locate the next set of chords he had to jump to on the keyboard.
Clover felt a soft flush rising to his cheeks. Lately, he found himself more and more interested in the small details of his partner's demeanour. Enamoured in all the little things that made Qrow... Qrow.
He was broken out of his train of thought by the finale of the piece, that had Qrow's fingers sailing up the keys and finishing off with a neat set of chords. Qrow let out a breath, sliding one hand back into his hair as he turned to look up at Clover. "Not bad, eh?"
"Wonderful," Clover emphasized. "I really like that one."
Qrow smiled, a brief, flattered smirk that Clover didn't see too often. "Well, thank you." He nodded towards the piano and stood. "You wanna go?"
"I'd love to."
He traded places with Qrow. While he adjusted the bench, Qrow settled in against the side of the piano. Clover stroked his chin for a moment, mentally running through his repertoire. He settled on a piece he had also played on election night. It was a bit more structured than most of his mainstays, but he was feeling particularly inspired by his partner.
Clover dove into the piece, the deceptively simple opening building into the bold, passionate theme of the piece. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Qrow's smile widen. Ah, he had chosen well.
This piece was a favourite of Clover's too. The main section had large jumps that challenged Clover's focus, before flowing into an equally dramatic but stormy transitional section. Sweeping lyrical passages gave way to complex runs up and down the keys. And the entire piece had a grand, romantic quality to it.
A quality that was working well, if the faint blush on Qrow's face was anything to go by.
Clover finished the piece with a swirling run up the board and a final set of bright chords. Leaning back, he let his hands slowly slide off the keys. He caught Qrow's gaze and gave him a smooth, confident smile.
Qrow sighed, "Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.” He leaned in and reached a beckoning hand out to Clover.
He placed his hand in Qrow's. "The music or the view?"
"Both." That was said quietly, lips brushing against Clover's fingers, breath sweeping over his skin. Qrow pressed a soft, reverent kiss to the centre of Clover's palm. It made Clover's breath hitch, and the way Qrow lingered, pressing another kiss to his wrist, made his heart start to race. Qrow glanced down at him. "Would you play with me, again?"
Clover smiled, and brushed his thumb along Qrow's cheek. "I was hoping you'd ask."
Qrow let out a pleased hum at that. He walked behind Clover to get to the bass side of the bench, running a hand along Clover's shoulders. As he sat, Clover decided not to wait so long this time, and slid his left arm around Qrow's waist. Qrow's resulting smile was just as handsome as it had been on election night.
After taking a moment to centre himself, Qrow began the piece. Clover waited patiently through the first portion, the part that Qrow had already mastered. He let himself get a little lost in the way Qrow's fingers glided over the keys, the way he let the notes hang in the air.
As Qrow finished the section with a series of twinkling high notes, Clover moved his right hand onto the keys. He played the first set of chords in the melody with precision, just as Qrow rolled off the arpeggios.
They continued weaving their way through the music in perfect sync. Qrow was much less tentative this time, both in the way he expressed the music, and in how much he leaned into Clover's space. The gentle warmth Clover felt in his chest swelled at Qrow’s unspoken confidence.
Qrow's hands moved further up the piano as the song began to close. As he completed the final, airy cadence, his left hand was once again arched over Clover's right. Qrow let his palm slide across Clover's knuckles, and turned to face him.
While Qrow's movements mirrored the ones from weeks ago, the emotions showing on his face were plainly different. Gone was the hesitancy, replaced by a comfortable ease and a certain confidence. But one thing was the same -- the longing he saw in those red eyes.
Qrow moved a bit faster this time. Clover idly wondered if he was worried about being interrupted again. As Qrow leaned in, Clover slid the hand on his waist up. His partner brushed his free hand over Clover's shoulder, and he rolled his hand on the piano over to interlink his finger's with Qrow's.
Clover closed his eyes.
He had kissed Qrow many times since joining the group in Mantle. But this felt different, like he was keeping a promise. Qrow's lips were soft, a little chapped from fighting out in the frigid air. And they felt warm, so inviting. Clover squeezed Qrow's hand on the piano, and Qrow squeezed back. He felt Qrow smile against his lips.
They paused for a brief moment until Qrow slid his hand up the back of Clover's neck and into his hair, pulling him back into a deeper kiss. The feeling of Qrow's chest flush against his and the light scratch of stubble had Clover sighing against the other man’s lips. It was sweet, languid, and it felt like home.
Qrow pulled back and touched his forehead to Clover's own. They gazed at each other for a soft moment. Qrow glanced down, eyes passing Clover's lips to look at his collar. His hand slowly drifted down from Clover's hair to delicately trace over the thin, faintly violet scar that peeked out above his vest. It began near Clover's heart and traveled across his chest, up to his shoulder.
Clover squeezed Qrow's hand again, and with his left hand rubbed comforting circles onto Qrow's back.
Qrow let out a little sigh, then looked back up at Clover like he was the most precious thing in the world. He leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to Clover's lips.
"I'd say you made it up pretty well, Cloves," Qrow whispered, voice delightfully rough.
Clover huffed out a laugh, a smile growing on his face. "It was my pleasure."
Qrow moved their hands off the keyboard and gently brought the fallboard back down over the keys. He gave Clover one last quick kiss on his cheek, before whispering, "Let's head back."