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Glasses clinked together and the muted sounds of flowing wind filled the rooftop diner. It had a specific smell, as Qrow noted. The smell of bacon and eggs was especially potent, and he could feel the need for food as his stomach audibly reminded him that all he’d had to eat today was a strong cup of coffee.
Clover chuckled, and looked over at Qrow.
“Hungry?” He asked, arching an eyebrow. Qrow nodded. “You’ve got to stop doing that.” Clover added.
“What?”
“Not eating before a mission.” Clover replied. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
“I… Look, I’m not really used to being in one place for very long—”
“Excuse me.” A young faunus girl in a retro dress clutched a small notebook and glanced at the two huntsmen nervously. “I’ve got a table for you both, if you’d like to follow me.” Qrow nodded and followed Clover as the two went towards the table that the waitress led them to.
“Leaders are meant to look out for their teams. All members.” Clover said as they walked, and eventually sat down at one of the booths near the edge of the roof, and ordered drinks from the waitress. “And even though you’re not an Ace Op…” Clover’s green eyes found Qrow’s soul, and his words reached out a reassuring hand as they did so, “…I’m still looking out for you.”
The waitress quickly returned, and set down two glasses of orange liquid in front of them before scurrying off again. Qrow’s hands reached out, almost trembling as he thought of grabbing the glass. Mimosas and screwdrivers still sat fresh in his mind, and he had to inhale deeply to remind himself that these were just regular glasses of orange juice.
“Not used to that, either.” Qrow chuckled, slowly sliding the glass of orange juice closer.
“I noticed.” Clover smiled around the rim of his cup of orange juice, and took a long sip as he stared at Qrow.
Qrow tried not to feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he felt the weight of Clover’s caring eyes on him. Not that he was opposed to the idea of being with another man, after all, it wouldn’t be the first time, but…
“So, why’d you call me here?”
“What? Can’t two friends go out to share a meal after a successful mission?” Clover asked.
“No, but…” Qrow hesitated. “Guess I’m just more of the solo type.”
“You didn’t have to accept, if you didn’t want to.” Clover replied, and looked down at his drink, swirling the liquid in the glass slowly, and methodically.
“It’s not that I mind, it’s just…”
“…you’re not used to it?” Clover finished, and the two men shared a soft chuckle. “I should’ve guessed, at this point.”
For a long time, neither of them spoke. Qrow took to looking over towards the right, out towards the now-dimming Atlas. The sun had just finished dipping over the edge of the city, bathing the sky in various hues of pink, orange, and red, as the navy on the other end of the sky slowly bled into the majority above them.
Normally, Qrow had paid little to no attention to the sky, or the natural beauty of the world around him. It was all a means to an ends. The sky told him what time of day it was (which he usually just checked his scroll for anyway), and the wonder of the world was just something that rolled off his back.
But now, sitting and not having to worry about the safety of his niece, not having to worry about the dark state of the world for the next fifteen minutes… Qrow was able to drink in the art of a sunset over the rim of Atlas from a rooftop diner. He smiled, and brought the glass of orange juice to his lips, savoring the tanginess of the taste.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Clover’s voice pulled Qrow’s eyes away from the sky, and into a different world. He looked over, across the table at the other huntsman.
“Yeah.”
“This is one of my favorite spots in all of Atlas.” Clover admitted, looking out over at the sunset, now that the sun had disappeared completely, but the rich colors still remained.
“I can see why.”
“It gives me a chance to just relax, and enjoy a good meal with an amazing view of a city I love.” Clover chuckled, and looked down at his glass. “What more can a guy ask for?”
The last bit was so quiet, Qrow wondered if Clover had meant to say it out loud, or even, at all. He searched for something to say, unsure if he should encroach on what seemed to be a private moment.
“Nothing, I guess.” Qrow said, looking at his own glass. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Clover looking up at him.
“Hm.”
Again, a long moment passed as the two said nothing. The waitress eventually came back, and took their orders. Around the waitress, Clover was cool, calm, and collected, with a round of smiles to boot. It was as if charming people was his actual semblance.
The waitress came back with refills, and Qrow looked over at Clover again. The silence between them was beginning to make him itch.
“So, what made you decide to become a huntsman?” He asked, and Clover produced a small smile.
“Well, I like helping people.” He laughed. “That, and… I guess becoming a huntsman felt like the right choice.” Clover’s left eye twitched slightly, and Qrow chuckled again.
“Didn’t know the goodie-two-shoes type could lie.” Qrow teased, and Clover’s smile grew warmer, more genuine.
“That easy, huh? Guess I must be out of practice.” He muttered. “The bit about helping people is true, though.”
“I figured as such.” Clover’s eyes flitted away, towards the darkening sky, and Qrow felt his stomach grow cold. “Look, if you don’t feel like telling me—”
“To be honest, I usually don’t say much about myself. Usually when I’m around people, I’m more of the listening type, when I’m not in charge of a group and giving orders.” Clover admitted, and he let out a soft sigh. “But, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to open up to someone… ” He shrugged.
“Look, Clover, if you don’t want—” But Qrow felt his words halt in his mouth, as a hand covered his own.
“I don’t mind, Qrow.” Clover let go of Qrow’s hand and leaned back into the seat. “As long as you don’t mind, that is. It’s not exactly a happy tale.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. I don’t exactly have many happy stories to tell, myself.” Qrow replied, and he relished the smile that came to Clover’s face. It was refreshing, after all the looks of pity that he usually got when those words left his mouth.
“I mentioned to you that my semblance is good luck.” Clover started, as he began to swirl his glass again slowly.
“Right.”
“Well, luck doesn’t equal smart.” Clover let out a soft exhale. “After I graduated from Atlas Academy, I… took a less than reputable route.” Qrow arched an eyebrow in surprise. Clover paused, as if contemplating his words. “I grew up in Atlas, but my parents were from Mantle. And although they were happy, they weren’t exactly the richest of people.”
Clover let out a sick chuckle that made Qrow’s heart wince.
“I guess you could say that influenced me a lot growing up.” He continued. “I wanted to go into a profession that made a lot of money. And although I was offered a job in the military after graduation, I immediately declined it.” Qrow’s eyes widened in shock.
“Really?”
“Really.” Clover nodded. “When I was younger, probably sometime around my time in combat school, I had started to learn how to play cards.”
Immediately, Qrow’s stomach twisted itself in guilt, thinking back to the game of poker they’d played on their mission earlier that day. It had been Qrow’s suggestion, and Qrow’s deck. Thinking back on it now, he’d dismissed the split-second hesitation Clover’d had, and the comment he’d made about ‘just for fun’ and ‘as long as there’s no betting involved’.
“And, as you’ve seen —due to my semblance— I was pretty darn good at it.”
“Clover, if I’d known—”
“—you wouldn’t have asked, I know.” Clover said, raising a hand to stop Qrow in his tracks. “It’s okay. If I didn’t think I could handle it, I wouldn’t have agreed. Plus, there was no money and no stakes. It was just for fun. It’s okay.” Clover smiled, and the light of his smile reached his eyes for the first time since he’d begun his story. “Actually, it was the first time I actually enjoyed playing, and not just because I won.”
Qrow opened his mouth, then shut it.
“And anyway, I’m not who I used to be back then, thankfully.” Clover’s eyes went down to his reflection in the orange juice. “Back then, I was…” he sighed again. “I was… a confused person. Once I got to Atlas Academy, I had begun to seriously cash in on my ability to win at cards, literally. I had kept my semblance a secret, and gone to some… less than reputable places to play cards after my classes.”
The waitress then brought their food over to them, and Qrow ate while Clover continued his story in between stagnant bites.
“Anyway, once I’d graduated, I took to gambling full time.”
For the first time since they’d met, Qrow noticed that the look on Clover’s face was something along the lines of upset, borderline sick with anguish.
“I was addicted to it, before I knew it. It slowly became less about the money, which is what it started as. Before I realized it, I began to crave the thrill of it, the rush of hanging in the balance of winning and losing. The idea that I could win more at the cost of losing everything…” Clover licked his lips nervously. “It led me down a dark path, and doing huntsmen work was put on the backburner.”
Clover took a second to eat a bite of food, and as Qrow chewed, he tried to finish his food fast enough to reassure Clover of how he knew what an addiction felt like. And even though it was completely different, and that they’d lost themselves in different ways, the inevitable pull of addiction was something that Qrow knew all too well.
Even now, he’d been eyeing the alcoholic drinks that had passed by on trays, destined for different tables. He’d know the shake of his hands, craving the sting and burn of strong alcohol. Qrow had reached into his jacket only so many times on a mission, only to find his flask missing, forgetting his choice to give up drinking. There had even been times when he’d woken up in a cold sweat, living in a nightmare that he’d drank again, only to see the disappointment in Ruby’s eyes, thrusting him back into the waking world.
And although it was different from the nightmares of Grimm and Salem in the past, something about seeing his niece disappointed in him had haunted him, because sometimes he wasn’t sure where his dreams and reality met, sometimes carrying the guilt of thinking he’d drank into the next morning, even if he was still sober. He’d been fine with disappointing everyone in his life, but Ruby and Yang… they were the two he just couldn’t bring himself to disappoint any longer.
“Anyway, I guess I’d taken it one bet too far.” Clover continued, pulling Qrow out of his own head. “I should’ve known it would happen at some point, I guess now I’m just shocked it didn’t happen sooner.”
For a second, Clover said nothing as he picked at the food on his plate with a hesitant fork.
“I’d won a game of poker against some… tough people. And I guess they weren’t too keen on losing. And there were more of them than I could handle, and I…” He chuckled darkly. “Well, they roughed me up pretty good, to the point where I admitted to using my semblance to win. They shook me down for all my money, and threatened to kill my parents if I didn’t give them what I’d won ten times over. And I guess it’s not surprising that I owed more than I could afford, and…”
Clover grimaced, his green eyes going somewhere that Qrow knew all too well. Qrow’s chest clenched at the sight of seeing Clover so upset, to see someone who was so bright go to a place that was so dark.
The feeling brought him back to when he’d witnessed Yang’s reaction to her disqualification from the Vytal Festival Tournament. He’d seen the eyes of someone so bright and caring go so dark, and it hurt him, knowing that he lived in that kind of darkness. Some people were made for the darkness, and people like Clover, Yang, and Ruby… well, they didn’t belong in the depths of hell like Qrow did.
“I wanted to run. I thought that maybe if I ran, they’d chase after me and leave my parents alone.” Clover said. “I couldn’t face the consequences of my actions. I didn’t want to, because I didn’t want to take responsibility for what I’d done. But… the threat of my parents’ safety was too much to take for granted. I’d even had a packed bag and a ticket to Mistral, but… my father called me that night, the same one that I was meant to leave on.” Clover cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Actually, he called me as I was on my way to the ship port to catch my boat. My father said that someone had thrown a brick through a window at my parents’ house, and… I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t run from someone in need, let alone people I cared about.”
A prolonged second passed, and Clover was silent as he stared out at the city of Atlas, now drenched in the darkness of the nighttime.
“That’s when I started looking for more honest work, and took on a bunch of low-level huntsmen jobs to try and make that money back.” Clover then smiled. “And that’s when General Ironwood found me.” He said. “He found me at my lowest low, and gave me a new lease on life. I came clean about what I’d done, and I was honest about my desire to do better for the sake of the people I cared about. He said he’d seen footage of me in the field and from the Academy records, and wanted me to work for him. And in return, he’d pay off my debts as a part of my salary. I… I owe the General my life, and more. He saved me, and I would die for him in a heartbeat.”
“And that’s why you became a huntsman.”
“More or less. I had a real rocky start, but… yes. I married my love for helping people with something I was good at.” Clover finally turned to Qrow, and met his eye for the first time since he’d begun his story. “I’ve grown, and although I’m not proud of some of the things that I’ve done, I am proud to be the person I am now.”
“And your parents?” Clover’s eyes darkened, but he smiled through it.
“My parents had me pretty late in their lives, so they were pretty old when I was born, to begin with. I guess my mom had a real tough time trying to conceive, but then again, she’s always had some pretty rough health complications. And I guess they were of the age where they were more susceptible to illnesses. So they lived out their lives until a sickness got to them both. Mom got it first, then…” Clover paused. “Well, my father didn’t really want to live without her, and so he let himself catch it, too.”
“Oh, right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Clover said. “It was a few years back, and honestly? I’m just glad they lived long enough to see me become a better person. Just hope that they died being proud of their only child.” Qrow nodded, even if he didn’t quite understand how that felt. He’d never known his parents, and Raven and the bandits they’d grown up around were less than the ideal image of family.
He had Ruby and Yang, but… he was more of a guardian, than an equal.
“Guess it’s no shock that I’m a bit jealous of you and your nieces.” Clover added, smiling. “I’ve always wanted something like that, but,” he shrugged. “I suppose it just wasn’t in the cards for me.”
“Well, hey, if you find yourself someone nice, I wouldn’t be shocked if you have a family of your own.” Qrow said, and felt the pit of his stomach drop in jealousy at his own words.
Clover deserved someone nice, someone good to spend the rest of his life with. Not a stranger who lived in the shadow of his own guilt and doubt. Not someone who imposed bad luck onto others without even trying. Not someone who was broken.
Not someone like Qrow.
“Maybe, but I guess trying to have kids is pretty hard when you’re a gay man.” Clover chuckled, and his cheeks were dusted with a light shade of pink. “At least, not in the conventional way.”
Qrow said nothing, mostly out of trying to concentrate on keeping his emotions at bay. If Clover had been straight, this would’ve been easier. If…
“No judgment here.” Qrow muttered. “Some of us just aren’t fit to have kids, though.” He added. “I know I’m not.”
“You do well enough taking care of your nieces.” Clover offered, but Qrow shrugged.
“They’re good kids, and they have their dad to thank for that. That, and…” Qrow felt himself stop.
Summer.
“Well, I for one think you’d make a great father.” Clover said, sitting back and smirking. “You care about others more than you’d let yourself admit. And, you’re a better person than you give yourself credit for.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You’re deflecting a compliment again, you know.” Clover said, and Qrow felt himself chuckle at the confident look Clover gave him.
“Well if we’re talking about credit, there should be more for you.” Qrow countered. “Getting over addiction is never easy.” Qrow muttered, raising his glass of orange juice. “It’s no small feat, that’s for sure.”
“You’re not doing too bad, yourself.” Clover grinned, clinking their glasses together in a toast. Qrow opened his mouth to respond, but Clover jumped to it first. “Not to pry, but it was alcohol, correct?”
“Yeah.” Qrow replied. “Is it really that easy to tell?”
“To normal people, maybe not.” Clover looked over the rim of his glass at Qrow. “But, to one past addict to another… I guess it was just easier to tell.” Clover then shrugged. “Or maybe I just tend to notice you more than most people.” He added, winking at Qrow.
Qrow nearly choked on his drink as Clover continued to smirk at him. The scruffier man blushed into his drink and filled his mouth with food as an excuse not to respond, rather than having a lack of words.
“I’d like to think I’m an unapologetic person.” Clover started again, not looking at Qrow. “But if I’m ever making you uncomfortable, I can stop.”
This time, Qrow did begin to choke on the stuff in his mouth. He had a second where he only coughed and cleared his throat to try and swallow the food down, feeling the pressure of the conversation weighing down on him.
“I’m going to assume I’m reading the room wrong, or that my flirting isn’t welcome, and that’s totally understandable—” Clover continued, now rambling as Qrow tried to swallow down the embarrassment and food in his throat.
“No—” Qrow coughed again. “No, that’s not—” Qrow watched as his words had made Clover physically buffer like a loading screen. The man, who oozed confidence and calm, was now reduced to a stuttering, unsure mess.
And for some reason, the only word Qrow had in his brain about the whole sight was cute .
“I don’t mind.” Qrow stated, feeling his feet firmly on the ground, for once. He waited until Clover found his gaze. “I don’t mind it when you… flirt with me.” Qrow admitted. “I’m just not—”
“—used to it.” Clover finished, and Qrow nodded. “Do you always repeat your words when you’re flustered?”
“I…”
“Because I’m not typically one who mixes my work life with my personal life. I mean, you’re honestly the first person I’ve hung around with outside of work, if I’m being brutally honest. But…” Clover looked at Qrow, who was unable to read the clean-shaven man’s expression. “…I like you, Qrow. And I’d like to get to know you, if you can find it in yourself to let me in.”
Qrow said nothing, seeing as his brain was going too fast for his mouth to even begin forming words.
“I know you don’t have a very high opinion of yourself, but… if you gave me the chance, I’d like you to see yourself the way I see you.”
“And how is that?”
“I see a man who loves his nieces, I see a man who cares about the world, even if he won’t admit to it. But I also see someone chained to his own guilt and shame, even if he’s the one holding the key in his own hands.” Clover sat back in his seat. “Or maybe I’m reading into you too much, and I’m passing too much judgment, and then you could just stop me right there—”
Instead of replying, Qrow could feel his head nodding.
“You’re right on all accounts except one.” Clover arched in eyebrow in interest. “There is no key. I belong in chains. I deserve to pay for all the misery and pain I’ve caused. Hell, even my semblance is—”
“Not your own fault.”
“What? Of course it is—”
“You told me earlier you can’t control it.”
“I… well, yeah, but—”
“Then how can you punish yourself for something you can’t control?”
“Because it’s my—”
“Qrow, if I told you I was about to rob a bank, and you did everything you could to stop me, and I still did it, who would go to prison for having robbed said bank?”
“… you would.”
“Okay, then explain to me why you think it would be your fault for doing everything you can to stop me from robbing that bank, even if it happened anyway?”
“I… Where are you going with this? I’m not really one for long metaphors.”
“What I’m trying to say, Qrow, is… When bad things happen, you do everything in your power to prevent them. And sometimes, the bad things still happen anyway. But… that doesn’t make them your fault. It makes you human. If you didn’t try, if you didn’t care, that would be different, but…” Clover smiled, and Qrow felt a warmth in his stomach at the sight. Clover was so bright, so wonderful, so… incredible.
And for a brief second, Qrow actually could understand Clover’s point of view about himself. About Qrow Branwen.
“You do care. You do try. And that makes you better than most people in this world, Qrow.” Clover reached for Qrow’s hand on the table. “And… that’s honestly why I like you.” Clover’s hand gave a light squeeze to Qrow’s. “I see through the gruff, brooding, emo exterior you try so hard to put up, but… I kind of want to see what happens when you’re relaxed. When you stop putting the world on your shoulders and just let yourself be content with life.”
“I…” Qrow hadn’t even considered what that would feel like. He hadn’t entertained the idea, for fear of slipping up, or letting someone else get hurt on his watch.
“And even if we just stay friends, I still want that for you. I want you to be happy, Qrow. And I want you to want that happiness for yourself.”
Qrow had kissed many people over the years. Several women, several men… and it had usually been a bundle of teenage hormones or the release of tension from work, channeled into a night of sex with a stranger. There were never romantic feelings (or, at the very least, not very much of romantic feelings) involved.
But never, never in his life did his entire body yearn to kiss someone like he wanted to kiss Clover in that moment. He wanted to taste Clover, to push his lips up against the essence of all that was good in the world, poured into one human being. Qrow wanted to know what happiness tasted like, and he was betting it was like orange juice on top of Atlas, with Clover.
“I…” It wasn’t sexual, it wasn’t hormonal, it was… romantic. It was feelings.
It was wanting the good of Clover, wanting someone who saw through him, who saw what he wanted to see in himself. Qrow wanted the person who’d bared his soul to him, and showed him the parts that he didn’t like about himself, and reached through to him. Clover had shown him that there was imperfection, even in goodness such as him, and Clover still had the audacity to reach out and ask for the good in Qrow, who was sure there was no good left in himself left to find.
“Again, we can leave here as friends, if that’s what you’d prefer, because I can handle rejection. But I just wanted to be honest with my feelings for you, even if they aren’t reciprocated.”
“I’d like that.”
“What?” Doubt crawled over Clover’s face like a disease, and Qrow wanted to cure it.
“I’d like for us to…” He hesitated, not sure how to word things. “I… I don’t know what it is that you think you see in me, but…” Qrow sighed. “Are you… Are you sure you like me?”
It was a stupid question, and the intense heat of the blush on Qrow’s cheeks told him that he was visibly feeling stupid for asking it.
Clover laughed. A deep, head-leaned-back, bottom of the throat laugh. Qrow noticed the way the crow’s feet gathered around Clover’s eyes when he laughed, and the way a soft feeling of light bubbled in his chest at the thought of making Clover laugh like that. He liked it.
“Of course I’m sure.” Clover responded, once he’d regained himself. “I just bared my soul to you and explained how much I like you, Qrow.”
“I… Yeah. I just… I’m not—”
“—used to it.” Clover grinned, and leaned forward on the table, his hand still covering Qrow’s. Qrow found himself leaning forward on instinct. “Well, I would say you should get used to it, but…” Clover’s voice dropped to a low whisper, and his eyes trailed the lines of Qrow’s mouth. “… you’re kind of cute when you’re flustered like this.”
Qrow felt his entire body flush from the remark, and as Clover leaned in, the two noticed the waitress from earlier standing at the foot of the table.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt—” She pleaded, face going white with embarrassment. “But I have your check…”
“Alright.” Clover said, his white smile back. Qrow noticed how Clover’s left eye twitched again, and how the smile that Clover gave the waitress wasn’t the same as the ones he’d been giving Qrow all night.
It was forced, fake. It was a lie.
Qrow tried not to smile at the thought that Clover was more honest around him, That Qrow Branwen was the one who got to witness Clover Ebi’s real smile.
“Let me—” Qrow said, hands breaking with Clover’s to reach for his wallet, but the other had already grabbed the check, and was handing the waitress the amount of lien.
“No, my treat.” Clover said, and the waitress thanked them both as Clover handed her a tip. He turned back to Qrow. “Take it as the first of many times I get to spoil you.”
“That’s… I’m not…” Qrow tried and failed to find the words as the two men stood from the booth and weaved their way through the various diner tables.
“Let me guess. You’re not used to being spoiled, huh?” Clover said, smirking. Qrow rolled his eyes, but found himself chuckling along. He grabbed for Clover’s hand as they rode the elevator down to the bottom of the building.
“Yeah.”
As the two men walked through the dark, and mostly empty city streets of Atlas, they didn’t say anything. Nothing needed to be said.
Qrow’s room was the first that the two came to, once they’d reached the Academy. They both stopped at the door, unsure of how to end the night.
“Well…” Clover started, always being one to break the ice.
“Do you… want to come in? I think the staff gave me some tea bags, we could have a cup of tea, if you’d…” Qrow mumbled, and Clover smiled. Then, the most gorgeous man Qrow had ever seen, the man with the kindest soul, cupped both sides of his face and leaned in close.
Qrow braced for the impact of their lips, but Clover paused. He rubbed a thumb over the side of Qrow’s cheek tenderly.
“Can I kiss you?” Clover whispered, his lips hesitating.
Qrow, feeling too childish for any other words, replied:
“Yeah.”
It was like opening the gates to a flood, because Clover rushed in, pressing his lips to Qrow’s like he’d been waiting an eternity for Qrow’s permission. Qrow’s hands shook as they reached around Clover’s torso, and his lips kissed back.
The food from the restaurant was filling, sure, but Qrow felt more satisfied from drinking in Clover’s company.
It was something he could get used to, he supposed.