Archive of Our Own

Qrow didn’t really know what to expect getting tossed into working with James’ squadron of “elite attack dogs.”

The general seemed confident in him to be able to do his damn job which was nice he supposed. Though it was not an incorrect assumption to make given his capabilities, but his social skills? Those were shoddy at best from the last few years. Once the girls had been old enough and Tai was well enough, Qrow had flipped back to fully doing missions for Ozpin almost without break and most of them not very interactive with other people.

And now James requested that he partnered with someone. Qrow didn’t have partners. It had been almost 30 or so years since he had a partner. And his semblance made him a terrible liability. The idea of one now, after his job finally had careened him into being a full, unrecoverable loner, was scary.

At least he was sober. Which was both a deep relief for him and his family but also a horrifying ordeal in more ways than one. Especially when he was dealing with the aftermath around someone… so certifiably perfect and charming. 

The Ace operative Captain.

Qrow’s pendulum swung wildly between hating his guts and being smitten. But Clover? Oh Clover was just being a nice man. A good man, and patient partner. Qrow was certain that he wouldn’t want anything to do with Qrow’s absolute utter mess. 

He smiled so kindly at him, even understood when he was just too damn sick to be alive and out of bed. He helped him hide how bad it would get from his kids even. He was sure the few urgent care trips were very carefully monitored by Ironwood and, considering the lack of bills, also certainly funded by him. And oh, Clover never let it phase him. He never considered it a burden- or, at the least, Qrow couldn’t tell if he did.

The resulting crush hit Qrow like a freight train.

Not only was Clover definitely too good for him but Qrow was a true hot mess. Why on the gods green earth would that man think of Qrow as anything but a washed up coworker? He was getting knots in his stomach every time his professional partner set a to-go cup of a sweet flavored coffee and a muffin in front of him during morning briefings. Something the man had been doing near daily since about a week into knowing him. The way he so very kindly smoothed the burn of Qrow’s semblance by telling him about his own. The core deep shock of Qrow realizing he wasn’t alone in fate and luck swirling around the corners of his life. Before the reveal, he had been so curious about why Clover’s semblance had also been internationally redacted like Qrow’s was, and damn annoyed that he thought Clover’s charms were in superstition of him and not a part of his very obvious gimmick.

 Qrow knew what it felt like to be blamed for things going wrong… but to be a person with good fortune… how hard Clover must have had to work his ass off to show he earned the things he got. That he probably was so used to being accused of things getting handed to him- 

Qrow remembered one of the resulting conversations the day after he found out…

…

‘When I froze up the other day… with you telling me about your uh- semblance, and the mines. I just wanted to say uhm-‘

‘Don’t worry, I’m more than just a good call. You can trust me to have your back.’

‘Huh? I know that. It’s just… nice to not be the only one. I bet your academy life sucked as much as mine did.’

‘… hah. It wasn’t a walk in the park, but at least I didn’t have to worry about explosive misfirings on a weapon prototype no one else knew how to use.’ 

‘Pff, oh Gods don’t remind me- “

…

They had smoothed into that conversation like they’d always meant to have it. Clovers' guarded but professionally polite initial response was defensive. It was human. They talked about semblance incidents through fits of giggles rather than shame.

Being around Clover was so unbelievably easy. Trailing after the man like a lost dog when he brought him along to lunch or an after work meet-up with the other aces. Compliant in following along with his suggestions and plans. 

Qrow wasn’t sure really, if his status and experience would put him at a Captain’s level. He had never really cared to consider anything like that before, it never mattered. Professional courtesy hadn’t mattered since he was young and had to adhere to it. It’s been so long since he had been in what could be considered ‘the public eye.’ (Even then, he was bad at behaving.)

Despite the uncertainty on Qrow’s side about where his rank fell, Qrow felt like Clover was seeing him as an equal. Spoke to him like one, treated him with an understanding that he couldn’t really remember getting much of at Beacon after Summer disappeared and his drinking got worse.

It made his heart race.

It was pathetic. Qrow was pathetic. No amount of professional experience with a one-of-a-kind weapon or time spent on fixing back his hair with gel and trembling fingers would fix it. He hadn’t really even had relationship experience either. A fling now and then when he was younger sure but… Qrow wasn’t to the standard of Atlas and it’s fancy fucking occupants. That was a fact to him. So, if only just to soothe the ache, Qrow would allow himself to consider Clover as a professional friend.

That brought him to now, where he stared through the mirror at his towel dried hair waiting to be styled. He looked less tired after a few months of recovering and ‘wellness.’ But each day was something new as he flipped between being able to be consciously in his niece’s lives and the lives of their friends, and also being able to exist as a person beyond a mission. 

Qrow rubbed the pomade in his hands and raked through the spikey curls that, even when damp, fought to lift his hair skyward. Carefully focusing while he took the time to twist and sculpt and scrunch. Things that Blake showed him videos of to do with his hair. When his hair had enough product he rinsed his hands off and inspected the hair dryer. Clicking it to medium speed and medium temperature. 

He ran the wind over the gray and white streaked hair as best he could while retaining order. Usually his hair was stiff when he styled it but apparently, it would be softer but still lift up this way. 

As someone who liked messing with people’s hair when he was fond of them, he liked the idea that his could be more touchable. This was taking forever though. He held the upper part of his hair loosely in place with his fingers while continuing the dry cycle. It would be crunchy once it was fully dry and then he could do witchcraft to make it softer or something. He let his mind wander while he continued the ministrations.

He’d used to take this kind of time to style his hair when he was in his 20s, when life had started to look good for him. When he had family and friends. He supposed that things were cyclical in that way. He still had his family, and in an almost parasocial way had friends. Well. The Aces and the happy huntresses tolerated him. God forbid any of them find out about the feelings he was projecting onto any of them.

A tingling of anxiety skittered along his spine and tongue at the thought of vulnerability.

The few times he’d ended up too vulnerable with Clover were thankfully not terrible.

One of the early days where Qrow had his body leave him in a nauseated heap on the bathroom floor, hands shaking and unable to pick up a scroll to even call in sick.

Clover had lied for him, telling the girls he had been with James talking about amity and that they’d be a while. He admitted to Qrow that he had a bad feeling and had gone to check in on Qrow himself after dismissing the morning check in. He had been able to let himself in because Qrow had been deteriorating the day before and hadn’t managed to actually lock the front door to his unit. A safety concern that had Qrow now checking every day. 

Clover had knelt next to him. Had witnessed him almost in tears with the pain, utter disarray and just. helped. Got him a light blanket, and put a damp face towel on his neck. 

He sent a message to someone, probably Ironwood, and waited out the worst of it with him. It felt humiliating, but Clover never mentioned it after. Never mentioned the shameful tone in Qrow’s barely present voice while he did his best to apologize about messing up the day. 

Didn’t look at him in Pity. Or anger. It only served to make Qrow more attached to him and Clover seemed to take Qrow’s want to be around him in stride.

Even now. Especially right now.

He was getting ready to get some dinner with the guy, who’d insisted they celebrated over a very good cadet battle demonstration. The kids had been delighted to watch the two A level huntsmen spar against each other. 

Qrow had been pleased to have gotten to have that much fun with Clover, again pathetic really, as sparring was the way his mind and body bonded with people too. 

At least Clover had seemed to also enjoy himself as they used the large training room and multi level platforms to make the fight as exciting to their young spectators as possible. Even when, in the middle of duking it out to the last aura percent, they had ended up in a rumpled heap of giggles and snorts from a slip off of one of the platforms 

The students still lost their minds, especially since it had been a tie when they’d both broken their auras on the short fall. The consensus was that, because Qrow landed on top of Clover, he was technically the defacto winner due to him ‘pinning the captain down’ in the landing position. Clover took the students’ side on it too, eyes sparkling with absolute mischief as they forced Qrow to take the win. 

Qrow found himself staring into nothing, thinking about the jovial laughter and the way Clover’s face had been flush from exertion. The memory made his chest stir and ache. His hair was fully dry now, so he set the turned-off hairdryer down and stared at the hair oil he had been given by Fiona as a gift. Just a little bit, like how he applies the pomade but less ‘smoothing’ and more scrunching if the video tutorial is to be trusted. 

With precision care he took a dime size amount and rubbed it on his palms before carefully just… fluffing and shaking it around his hair. Grabbing at the sections and watching it look more lifted. Similar to his normal style but more textured and soft looking. He smiled to himself while he rinsed the left over off his hands. 

It looked nice.

He put on his eyeliner pencil the same way he had since he was 16. Close in his waterline with just a bit of smudging. 

He looked nice.

There was a startling knock at the door. Fuck. A quick glance at the clock had him noting that the other was early. That little- 

“Hold on!” He called, almost going to open the door but realizing he was fully without a shirt. Qrow grabbed at the black button down and pulled it around himself before he scampered over to the door and tugged it open with a good humored huff.

“You’re early, Boy Scout.” He commented dryly to the grinning, chestnut haired man who seemed to be a bit surprised by Qrow’s appearance. Qrow ushered him inside.

“Hah oh- well I figured you wouldn’t mind too much- seems like I caught you at an odd time huh?” Clover said with an earnest, apologetic look as he glanced down at Qrow’s unbuttoned shirt.

“Gotta give me some grace for my state of undress, I thought I still had 15 minutes. You’ll have to be patient.” He crossed his arms, watching Clover make a dramatic flop onto his couch and laugh.

“Oh nooo, I’ll have to sit here and watch. I’ll be bored to tears.” Clover joked boisterously, head and eyes following him across the room attentively like the good listener he was.

Qrow rolled his eyes while he fixed the buttons as he walked off toward the bathroom and dipped into it so he could actually tuck the shirt in properly and put on his belt. “I’m not letting my struggle be your amusement.” He scoffed, listening to Clover’s laughter as he topped the black shirt with a gray vest and counted all of his piercings and rings. Looks like the gang’s all there.  

He rolled up his sleeves and fixed his leather wrist wrap on before heading back out to the main area. He watched Clover tilt his head back towards him, still smiling while he watched Qrow scoop up a maroon leather jacket to slide onto his clothes (and of course, roll the sleeves of that up too, relayering the cuffing so the shirt and jacket folded together.) 

“Alright eager beaver I’m ready to go.” He rested his hands on his hips, “I don’t look like I got body slammed into a snow pile this morning right?”

Clover stood, reaching to smooth down the shirt lapel a little with an appraising look. “Definitely not, it’s more like you’re about to explain to me the difference between a pecorino and a regiano.”

Qrow tried to ignore the warm feeling in his limbs from how gentle the action was to fix his off kilter collar from his hustling around. Just settling to snicker at the other’s joke.

“I happen to take the sharp tang of pecorino very seriously on my cheese trays, Cloves. Something’s gotta balance out the fruit.” 

“It delights me that you can think of charcuterie on the fly, Q. But really, you look great.” Clover earnestly looked at him with that goofy, good natured smile and Qrow hoped he didn’t notice his skin heat up.

“What else is there to do at those weird ass business meetings? What happens with the fig jam stays with the fig jam.” The good natured quips flowed so easily, and Clover’s honest enjoyment of them was so natural. But that kind look narrowed at him. Now Qrow was sure he could see the red on his face. “I accept that I look good, too, go easy on me sheesh.“ he tacked on with a laugh. 

“Hm. That’ll suffice I suppose.” Clover relented with his normal smile again. Qrow’s eyes wandered to see what he could compliment the other back before pausing and giving him a once over again with sudden surprise. 

“Are those sleeves?” He asked, astonishingly reaching out for one of the nice polo shirt’s short sleeves. 

The neutral brown shirt hugged the Captain’s biceps very nicely, with hints of a brassy gold along the edges of the sleeves and the shirt’s collar. It faintly reminded Qrow of his own combat outfit’s colors. He decided quickly that he liked them better on Clover, especially paired with the olive green leather of the biker vest he had on, the lapel of which bore that same signature lucky pin. Qrow flicked it while he teased a bashfully’ pink Clover about his attire.

“Yeah yeah, I know-“ the man chuckled, “can’t have bare arms in the restaurant we’re heading to. They’ll gasp at me like dying fish til I leave if I try to.”

“Sounds like you’ve tried to.”

Clover looked at his feet with a guilty grin. “Maybe.”

Qrow snickered and raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to mess with the slightly curled piece of hair dangling over the other’s forehead that got left out of his usual sleek quiff. A flare choice that Qrow found cute and also a definitely stolen design choice.

“Really now, Mister rule follower? What next? Stealing your team mate’s hairstyles?” Qrow accused, watching Clover look at him with mock surprise.

“Don’t tell Harriet, she’ll tease me for life-“

“Mmm I dunno-“

“Pleaseee, I’ll buy you a desert, Birdie. Anything you want.” The nickname was something that, if it hadn’t been from Clover, he would have considered lacking in creativity. But Qrow liked the sound of it from his lips. 

“Oho? Any desert? We’ll see if the end of the night brings you luck then.” Qrow couldn’t help the faintly dirty joke that weaseled in, the way Clover winked at him and laughed was almost tangible in his veins. 

“It’s a deal, let’s get going then so we aren’t late, early bird catches the worm and all.”

“More like an early bird catches his partner off guard.” Qrow huffed, enjoying the way the happy gleam in Clover’s eyes never left.

“And get to see their partner all nice and fresh.” Clover added on, lifting a hand to gently follow one of Qrow’s strands of hair behind his ear, giving warmth to his cheeks once again.

“Yeah? I was trying something new-“ he asked, rubbing the back of his neck

“I love it, it feels so free. Like your normal style but with like- a movement to it?”

“Good, that’s what I was hoping for-“

 They continued their conversation out of the building and down to the street, a sleek classic motorcycle in a pale mint green waiting for them. 

“Whew- damn Clove, she’s prettier in person.” Qrow said appreciatively, while realizing in a delay that there are two helmets and that he would also be on that motorcycle as the other set a black helmet with a pinky-red stripe design along its edges in his hands. It matched him?

“Wait until you take a ride.” Clover said in a very proud tone, putting on his own helmet with a teal shamrock and swirled knot design before sitting onto the bike and patting the space behind him. “You’ll like it I guarantee~”

Qrow didn’t give it too much thought, popping on the definitely not personalized or anything helmet over his head to hide the rapidly developing raging hot blush behind the wind visor of the protective item. “Better not kill me by accident.” Qrow said the first thought to pop into his mind that didn’t seem like an absolute disaster while he carefully slid down behind the other. 

“I won’t, scouts honor,” he said, kicking the engine to life while it emitted a rumbling purr that shook along Qrow’s whole body, “ lean in to me and wrap your arms tight around my waist-“ he spoke over the sound of the engine while he carefully took Qrow’s hands and pulled them around him, “and hold your hands together, there you go. Perfect!” He patted Qrow’s forearm encouragingly. 

“I’m trustin’ you on this-” Qrow said, having to speak a little louder as well. Hoping the vibration of the bike was hiding his thundering heart rate of being just completely pressed to the other’s back enough to smell the others musky sandalwood and jasmine cologne. 

“You fly your way, I fly mine!” Clover called back with a laugh and a rev, driving off much quicker than what Qrow would consider a normal speed limit.

This is why he never got on Yang’s bike. Ever. 

Pressed into the muscular back of the specialist he did manage to relax. The wind actually did feel a bit like it did when he flew. A smile creeped its way onto his face while he watched the city go by. It was only a 10 minute ride to the restaurant but it felt like a moment and a year all at once. Clover had a comfortably warm ambient body temperature, and a certifiably confident driving ability. Qrow very much enjoyed being snuggled up against him and didn’t even get motion sick.

Clover finally slowed in front of a fancy looking building, sleek and valet signage clear and suited up. Qrow watched him look back and offer a hand out to him to help him stand up. Qrow took it, uttering a thank you while he carefully got up and off the saddle. It was nice that Clover didn’t want him to fall in his face from getting his boot laces hooked or something. 

One of the valets walked up while they both took their helmets off, Qrow shaking his hair out while they did. The valet was beaming at Clover like no tomorrow.

“Hello Captain! I’m happy to take your bike.” She offered brightly, near giddy. 

Clover smiled at her, genuine as he kicked off the bike, “Lucky me, they’ve got someone who rides here. Thank you!” 

Qrow fought to not roll his eyes at that and managed to succeed. It was cheesy but he knew the other meant it with at least some honesty. 

“Wonderful, go ahead and bring your helmets to the valet stand, I’ll be sure to ticket them in with your keys!” The girl added on, exchanging spaces with Clover after he got off the bike. “My name is Marbel, if you need anything in this regard just ask for me.” 

“Sounds perfect, thank you again, Marbel.” Clover nodded his head to her, gently taking Qrow’s helmet from him while giving him a little wink. 

Qrow softly added a thank you of his own to the girl before she revved the engine back on and carefully drove the bike down the valet parking ramp next to the building.

Together they dropped the helmets off with the other valet, and went inside.

“Jeez Clo, I knew you said nice but I see why you need sleeves now.” Qrow joked, feeling a bit out of place by it all.

“I wanted it to be a little bit of a surprise at least, this is how I get my fun in.” Clover snickered gently and put an arm around his back, not pressing it to his skin but enough to help direct him where they needed to go around the hustle of the main floor. They went to the host stand who was more than elated to shepherd them to the elevator and up to the top dining area. It was charmingly candle lit, and much slower- smoother even in its deep rich blue tones and almost romantic sounding jazz.

Qrow tried to not be too surprised or concerned for Clover’s wallet- what was James paying this man that this was for a casual celebration? Was this comped under team bonding?

The host sat them at a two person table nestled with plush chairs in the corner with privacy beads circling about a foot or two from them, it was the same with most of the tables up there. Exclusive, mind blowing. Their two walls were knee height to ceiling windows that stretched out to view Atlas and the tundra as the sun set, with just enough tint that it wasn’t eye gouging. Qrow may not be fond of this floating chunk of rock but damn it had its photogenic side.

He faintly heard the host state that the server would be back to take their order after they’ve had time to settle in, seeing a menu placed in front of him from his peripheral while admiring the arctic landscape. Qrow managed another thank you.

“What do you think?” Clover asked, a hesitation to his voice and smile, a server swooping in as the host was walking out with warm tea and an absolutely decadent looking bread basket to set in front of them.

Qrow didn’t get to say thank you to the server specifically, they practically evaporated from the table. He felt out of place. Like a fraud. The faint sound of the firepit at the center of the room and the draft of heated air gently pooling around his legs from the floor vents simulated a comforting feeling.

“Like I shouldn’t be here…” Qrow joked sheepishly, turning from the window to his companion and coughed a little. He noticed Clover deflated slightly, his tells were usually subtle like that. “It’s really really cool, I mean. I’ve just really never been in a place like this.” He added quickly. 

“… Really? Nothing like this?” That made the specialist sit up. “But you’ve been everywhere, know almost anyone- not once?”

“Well I’ve been to nicer restaurants but this? This is Michelin, I’ve never seen the point of being or participating in this- I grew up in the forest, this just seemed all far away from me?”

“Is that upsetting to you?” Clover asked gently. Qrow doesn’t like the sad look in his eyes.

“No.” Qrow said back, nudging clover’s foot with his own and giving him a smile. “You’re here with me, fisher boy. If I’m a fish out of water then I’ve got the right guy here for the job.”

“Good, I’m glad it’s not too much.” A warm laugh of relief came forward from the other while his posture straightened slightly and he took off the green vest to hook it on his chair.

 Qrow did the same with his own jacket. If Clover looked weird with sleeves, it was saved by the fact that the polo was just hugging against him like the most perfect magazine cover. Good golly. Qrow blinked and snagged one of the dark colored pieces of bread with rolled oats onto the crust of it and bit into it. Hopefully Clover thought he’d been looking at the bread and not his chest. 

And. Holy. Fuck.

Qrow’s throat rumbled a soft sound. “It’s definitely not too much-“ he said, slightly around the bite and his hand for some level of decency. The bread was soft and fluffy, with a chewy crispy bottom crust. An almost molasses and honey undertone to the bread's sour tang. “Man I love bread-“

Clover’s grin had gone from a tentatively relieved expression to almost ear splitting from what Qrow could see. That was one thing he appreciated for sure, Clover never sought to embarrass him or to have him be upset. He was happy when Qrow got to be happy and isn’t that what friends do? Right? 

Summer had been happy when she made other people happy too. It had been one of her priorities. The warm bread in his mouth kicked up the memory of Monday night’s when her sourdough starter needed to be dealt with. That week’s bread, and maybe some other treats if she wanted to mix it up. 

He picked up his knife, got a dab of butter to put on his plate and dipped the bread in it before he took another big bite, letting out a pleased hum. He wouldn’t be sad about her. Not right now. She’d be so mad if he did. He felt Clover nudge his foot back and a warmth went over his whole body. He looked up to watch Clover grabbing his own slice and swiping the butter right on top before going in with his own bite. Good to know Qrow didn’t have to be too fancy about it. Clover held out his bread in a cheers motion.

“To never being too much?”

Qrow chuckled at the offer. 

“To never being too much.” He added, clinking the unbitten sides of their pieces of bread together, “In seating and in semblance.”

Something in Clover’s eyes flickered, something almost unreadable while Qrow could feel the other’s shoe hook around his ankle and hold him in place.

“Well put, Birdie. Now- let’s see what’s good on this menu, hm?”

“I’d have a hard time believing anything would be bad- ohhh man. Well I think the harder problem is choosing if I want seafood or not-“

“You and your fish huh?”

“I keep telling you, get me a char salmon when you go ice fishing next and I will do anything you want me to.” 

Clover's laugh was coy and wicked, “don’t tell me that, I’m going to get you into a uniform.”

“You would never.” Qrow gasped

“You would look incredible. Also it would be so funny, I think you’d lock up like a cat getting a sweater put on.”  Clover practically giggled the words out, watching Qrow’s face.

“Mean to me. So mean to me.” He huffed, making a sour expression to make the other laugh more.

A waiter came up to them a few minutes into their conversation, allowing them to order. Clover convinced him that they should get the recommended three course surf and turf. The promise of a cold smoked salmon bruschetta too good to refuse, followed by a main course consisting of thin cuts of pepper crusted medium rare mignon served alongside a mushroom risotto, Clover refused to tell him what dessert he had planned. If he wasn't certain this was funded by a company card, Qrow would be mortified at the fact that the menus simply didn't have prices. 

It's so nice. 

Nicer than what he thinks he should be offered. Clover included. 

Qrow liked to think the other man was at least somewhat fond of him. That they were friends. But the truth was more likely that Clover was a kind professional who recognized the benefits of Qrow’s capabilities, even with all of his issues. 

He wasn't stupid. He figured out the General’s MO after he connected the dots that not only were the Ace Ops an elite team specifically made to have complimentary semblances, but also their leader was the only unpaired member and had a perfectly complimenting semblance to Qrow’s. Even if Clover may not want a partner, Qrow knew the optimization that James’ mind had often run on. The idea of Ozpin’s number one go-to spy who happened to be a very well known, talented huntsman going to work under Atlas’ banner? With a Partner who could keep up pace? 

He bet James has salivated over the idea more than once. 

That’s why he felt like an idiot getting so attached. He understood the road he was driving on. Understood that eventually he may have to say No to Clover in a way that could stress their partnership. Maybe Clover would understand he couldn’t leave his kids. Surely a man so gentle about his feelings would understand… If it wasn’t an act somehow. 

Qrow studied the cheesy grin on the Captain’s face while he talked about an Argan beach that was only warm enough to swim in about 3 months of the year. Studied how, when Clover mentioned showing Qrow it and his father’s old fishing cabin, his smile almost seemed to radiate. 

Hopefully it wasn’t all an act. 

“When all the chaos is over, a beach day doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, Charming.” Qrow agreed, with a soft chuckle at the other’s delight in his response. 

The dinner was all a familiar back and forth, there was one thing Qrow just never grew tired of and it was the way Clover could always match his jokes or his one liners. The way the other appreciated food rather than considered it a casual luxury. Deeply raptured and curious about Qrow’s thoughts on how everything tasted. Listening to him intently. Qrow felt himself melting like butter under the attention, loosened by the music and the way Clover’s foot had stayed hooked with his ankle. Maybe Qrow wasn't imagining the romantic feeling of it all and yet maybe he was. 

‘Oh to have a red wine,’ he thought vaguely while relishing the last bite of his steak. The gentle haze of two glasses would feel so unbelievably nice, he could feel less like he needed to track all the details around him, being unable to overthink it all. His gaze drifted to the semi decorative wine wall by the bar. It took two seconds for the shame to sink in his stomach like a rock. Eyes dropping to his mostly empty plate.

“Qrow?”

He knew better than to be thinking that. He knew better than to consider that. It was never one or two glasses was it? Idiot. 

“Qrow.”

Said huntsman snapped his head up, blinking a little, “Yeah?” he asked quietly. Clover’s face was missing the smile, replaced by frown lines creased in worry. 

“You good?” was the whisper of a check in from the brunette, tranquilizing teal irises studying him. 

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m ok I- um-” Qrow’s gaze filtered between the wine on the far side of the room and his plate and then Clover while his face grew hot. “I’m ok.”

“That’s your guilty face.”

“Im not a toddler, Clove, I don’t have a-” Qrow’s argument died in his throat under Clover’s patiently expectant stare. He slowly set his fork down with a shameful sigh. “Just… thought about some wine with the food and stuff.” he admitted, expecting a backlash, a scolding, a reminder or some mix of all three. Clover’s hand came into view, a few inches away from his own with the palm up, fingers splayed out. An offer.

“Hey, you know how many people out there make pairing wine and food their entire job?” Clover whispered, a light tint to his voice while preserving the personal nature of their conversation. It caught Qrow clean off guard. He looked up at him with confusion, vaguely seeing the other’s fingers wiggling in his bottom periphery. Qrow slipped his hand into the other’s and let him pull it to the center of the table so they could both be slightly leaned in, “It's a full on profession, for a good reason. People like it.” 

“Yeah…?”

“It's an impulse craving. You weren’t going to order it.”

“But I could have-”

“But you didn’t, and you wouldn't. I know you wouldn't." Clover was firm, his hand was warm. “You know you wouldn’t either, don’t you?”

Qrow deflated while he nodded in agreement, feeling his hand be squeezed. “Youre right, like you usually are.” he mumbled with a little smile. “So irritating for an Atlesian to have that trait.” he joked, watching him snicker.

“So long as you let me in when that happens I am happy to continue to be irritatingly right.” Clover remarked, his smile slowly coming back along with Qrow’s. “Cant mope when it's almost time for something sweet right?”  he teased. 

“Ah yes, your insisted surprise,” Qrow teased back, relieved his little crumble didn’t cost them their night, looking down at their hands and the way he could faintly see their outline in the glass windows. Ones that now lead to the Atlesian night sky, pooling with stars. A much more soothing sight than the far wall. A waiter breezed by to grab up their plates, poised and uttering a ‘your final course will be ready shortly’ to them. He paused and took a second to share Clover’s gaze despite Qrow’s overall avoidance of eye contact. “Thanks.”

Clover gave him an amused look, “why’s that?”

“Hah. Thank you for dealing with me and thank you for convincing me to come to a place I don't think would ever let me be within 10 feet of it on a normal day.” Qrow chuckled. 

Clover tightened his hold of his hand, “Not only do you absolutely deserve a nice dinner, but I don't ever just deal with you. You matter to me. A whole lot.” The Ace Operative said it with a flush to his face and a small puff of his chest. “I wouldn’t want anyone else here with me right now, you put it perfectly earlier, remember? Never being too much.”

Qrow’s mouth felt dry, cheeks matching the other’s blushed skin tone. He squeezed the other’s hand back. Expression visibly softening. “Right… you matter a lot to me too, you know.” he added back before seeing a waiter approach them with a tray and setting down two new waters from it and then a wide plate, placing it in the middle between them. 

“Will this be all?” The waiter asked Clover, who politely told him yes. They nodded and left to let them eat their final course. 

The plate looked so picturesque.

A large slice of a lovely spice cake with vanilla buttercream and what looked like an orange marmalade slowly dripping from its center. Garnished with an orange twist and the plate lined with sugar coated fruit, all looking almost gem-like in the restaurant's candle lighting. 

“I know you only mentioned the fruit the other day, but I figured who wouldn't want cake too?” Clover admitted with a shy but wide grin.

“Clo, you need to warn a guy, I don't think they’d appreciate me drooling like a dog in here-” Qrow laughed, hearing Clover laugh too. Qrow’s free hand went to pick up a grape skewer, biting into its clear, hardened glaze. It gave a satisfying crunch to the plump sweet fruit. He hummed, and felt the eyes of an observer on him. “Its absolutely as good as I hoped it would be.” Qrow announced, looking to see the oh so familiar sparkle in the other’s eyes. Clover went for a cherry, popping it into his mouth and nodding along with Qrow in agreement.

“Oh- oh that's a great texture.” 

“The cake is gonna give it a run for its money though, look at that thing.” Qrow joked, watching Clover arm himself with a spoon and scoop up a piece. 

“Well let’s find out- and since you've already got a skewer in your hand-” Clover started lightly, reaching forward to offer him the first bite of cake with bravado. “Winner gets first bite, Birdie~.”

Qrow felt his brain shut off for a moment, muscle memory of just taking food offered to him from someone he trusted going first as he leaned in and Clover tilted the bite into his mouth. A delayed response of hot blushes from either side of the table especially as Qrow’s shoulders dropped. The cake was soft and moist, a rich aromatic flavor of cinnamon, clove and molasses complimented with the tangy citrus filling. Distractingly decadent. He set the skewer back on the plate to chew through the bite with a pleased groan and a roll of his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Sounds like a raving review.” Clover murmured, out of breath and pleased sounding, sitting back with the empty spoon now refilled so he could have a bite as well.

Clover didn’t leave the spoon for him. No. He used it for himself, and kept his eyes on Qrow.

Qrow may be stupid. Oh he may be so very stupid.

The feeling of Clover’s foot hooking back around his ankle felt twice as electric. Their surroundings and the freckles on Clover’s charming face tilted into HD. 

This is not a work outing.

This is a date. 

And the look on his partner’s face just turned confused. 

“Yeah…. It is?” Clover said tentatively. 

Qrow had said that out loud. Oh he absolutely was stupid.

They stared at each other, it felt like minutes passing. In a matter of seconds. 

“Qrow, did you not-“

“You never called it a date-“

“Oh- oh my gods-“

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry you did so much-“

“You don't want to date me…?” Clover’s entire posture just sunk, the foot at Qrow’s ankle disappeared. 

“No! No no- I’m stupid, I’m so stupid. I really want to date you, I didn’t think you’d want to date me.” Qrow felt his heart lodge into his throat as the other man locked in on him with an intensity to his posture.

“You are not stupid- but- I- Who wouldn’t want to date you?” 

“I haven’t-“

The frantic whispering back and forth came to a grinding halt as a waiter stepped through their beaded curtain with a raised eyebrow and a check scanner, box and bag in hand. 

“Pardon for my interruption,” they said casually with a pleasant smile, setting the box down and whispering as well. “I appreciate your mostly adequate attempt at being quiet, but it may be unwise for anyone with… less kind ears to hear this discussion. Perhaps I just box this up for you?” They offered empathetically.

Qrow was 40 different shades of red, Clover coughed softly into his hand and nodded while he pulled out his scroll to transfer the check scanner the owed lien.

Oh god was Clover paying for all of this himself?

“Thank you for the discretion.” Clover murmured formally, his captain’s voice sliding into place leaving a tingle along Qrow’s neck. “Everything was lovely and we appreciated the privacy.” 

The waiter used a cake knife and tongs that they brought with them to gently transfer the slice and fruits to the fancy black to-go box. Qrow wondered if they could hear his heart beating with how loud it felt. The box was tucked into a matching sleek bag and the waiter nodded to them while taking the terminal from Clover.

They glanced at the total and paused for a moment. “Would you like to follow me ? I can lead you through a less crowded way out to valet.” 

Both of the huntsmen looked visibly grateful as they got up to follow, Clover taking the baggy with a thanks to them. Niyati was their name, Qrow recalled, from when they introduced themself initially. Seems like Clover knew how to tip well. 

As promised, their way out was definitely less noisy than their way in. 

“Do you remember the valet who assisted you or have your ticket?”

“Yeah, Her name was Marbel” Qrow supplied at the same time as Clover said “Yes, it’s right here,” And pulled the ticket from his vest pocket. They stole a glance at each other, slightly awkward smiles as they did. 

The waiter took out their scroll and sent a message with a picture of the ticket. Rather than the main entrance, they were on a side one under a canopy a bit like the main. Less foot traffic. “She’ll be around in a minute. You two have a nice night, thank you for dining with us.” 

They both said their thanks to the waiter as they tucked back inside, leaving the duo on the sidewalk in silence.

Qrow felt his stomach leap, staring at his feet as Clover cautiously stepped into his space and brushed their arms together. “I’m sorry.”

Qrow turned to him, confused. “Why?”

“Thought I was being coy with the whole set up for this and taking you out…”

“…How long have you been flirting at me?”

The operative had a little, faintly rueful, smirk on his face, “almost the whole time I’ve known you, thought I was flirting with you at least halfway through it though.” 

Qrow’s face warmed back up again. 

“Full disclosure? I haven’t gone on a date in years and I’m really bad with knowing where friend boundaries are…” he listened to Clover laugh with a little snort as he did. “What’s so funny?” Qrow grumbled with a small smile of his own.

“Sorry- the prettiest man I’ve ever met just admitted to me that he’s probably not tracked several people’s attempt to hit on him-“ 

“That- that is such a mean way to put it, I’ve been working!” 

“Sorry sorry, the prettiest, most altruistic man who is so good at dodging compliments missed years of people flirting with him.” Clover’s arm wrapped around him, the cheesy smile returning while Qrow groaned in defeat while covering his face with his hands. “We’re going to my place and finishing this dessert. By the way.”

“You still want to be around me?”

“Being slow on the uptake doesn’t make you ineligible for romance. And I’m not stupid enough to walk away from my crush who just admitted he’s wanted to date me too, that's kind of counter intuitive to asking you out in the first place.” Clover pulled him in closer, blocking the light Atlesian windchill. The proximity felt nice, even reassuring, to Qrow.

“Crush? You’re so weird.”

“Says you.” 

The rev of Clover’s bike engine caught their attention as it came around the corner and came to a clean stop on the road in front of them. Marbel smiled as she turned the bike off and flipped the kickstand, trotting over to them as she unhooked the helmets from her arms. 

“The private entrance, hm gentlemen? I hope the rest of your date goes as good as this part.” She said with a mischievous grin.

Great. Even the valet clocked them before Qrow did. Clover laughed it off while they thanked her. The girl threw them a mock salute and went inside quickly with a comment about the cold. 

“... She knew it was a date.” Clover mentioned, Qrow gave him a sharp nudge before putting on his helmet.

“You gonna just make fun of me or are you gonna take me home with you, Shamrock?”

“I can have multiple goals!” Clover countered, popping his own helmet on and very eagerly saddled up on his motorcycle, patting behind himself like he did earlier in the night, “let’s roll, Pretty Bird.” 

Qrow’s skin was burning hot while he scoffed and tucked in behind him, wrapping his arms around the Captain like he’d been instructed to before.

 “That’s a new one.” He commented, trying to not make it sound obvious that he liked it.

Clover leaned back and squeezed Qrow’s knees before returning his hands to the handles. “Im not leaving anything to interpretation anymore, including how much I like you. So, pretty bird among other nicknames, is being added. Unless you don’t want me to-“

“No- I like… heh… I like Pretty Bird.” He admitted, pressing against him while he listened to Clover chuckle and start his bike.

“Glad we agree!” The captain said over the purring engine before they took off.

Qrow realized that he had never seen where the other actually lived beyond when Clover was using faculty dorms for a quick rest. They set Clover’s bike up in the parking garage under the building and headed into the elevator foyer that needed a passcode to access. Clover went to the last one of 4 terminals and scanned his scroll so they could use it. It reminded Qrow of James’s place slightly, the General having facilitated a couple meetings away from the official military buildings out of necessity and timing. 

The elevator brought them up to a luxury penthouse style condo in beautiful dark woods and decorated with vibrant plants and artwork. It looked like it was a double decker with an open design, he could see bedrooms and offices upstairs, overlooking the living room, kitchen, foyer, etcetera in the main floor.

“So are you like- permanently in debt or does Jimmy just pay you insanely well?” Qrow asked, stepping into the area as they took off their jackets to drape them on a chair next to the door along with the helmets that look complimentary with their jackets next to each other. Like they should be there. 

“Ah, my father was an Admiral, career military makes very, very good money.” Clover admitted it like a secret. “Helped bolster my chances for better pay in the first place. Also this is his place he just gave it to me when he moved back to Argus.”

Qrow raised an eyebrow at that, “not luck but nepotism, see now that makes sense.” he teased and clover huffed, gently pushing his shoulder while leading them to the vaulted ceiling living room that overlooked out into the tundra.

“Don’t be a jackass to me.”

“Ok, enlighten me on your woes, Clove.”

“Hah, admired and subjected to jealousy by tenured professionals, hated and wanted by a lot of peers, you’ve heard it all.”

“That's a disgusting amount of attention but true it’s not untouched ground between us.” 

“I like to think we’ve talked decently about how our semblances and family affected our lives, Q.”

“Im so sure a therapist would love to capitalize on it too.”

Clover snorted, rolling his eyes before pulling him down onto the couch that was a lot more comfortable then Qrow thought it would be. Clover opened up their to-go box and sat it on the coffee table.

“Well, send me your invoice.”

“No, I think tonight alone has absolved you of any and all debt from me past and future.” Qrow laughed before seeing a shining sugar coated strawberry get offered to him.

“Well I’m glad I could pay in advance, now open up.” Clover coaxed. 

Qrow rolled his eyes with a blush developing, compliantly letting the other place the berry into his mouth so he could bite down around it and lavish in the delicious, crunchy juicy taste. “Mmm. Mhnhn!” He patted at Clover's arm while nodding. Taking a moment to swallow. “Oh that’s the best one yet. Is there another one in there?”

“Hm looks like it-“

“Perfect, you’ll get to try it then.” Qrow said with a little smirk on his face, happily stepping into the more competitive dynamic they’d built up. He went to grab it and pushed Clover back against the couch, hearing him let out a soft oof.

“You’re always stronger than I’m expecting.” He chuckled, expectantly watching Qrow arm himself with the strawberry.

“Comes with the territory of being cool.”

“Improvements in self esteem in real time I see-“ 

“Stop talking and open your mouth.” 

“Yes sir- omm-!”

“That sounded like talking, Captain.” Qrow cackled at Clover’s startled muffled. He hadn’t seen the berry coming, or expected Qrow to partially kneel on one of his thighs for leverage, ensuring he got his target. Clover looked so pretty staring up at Qrow and chewing with that familiar twinkle in his eyes. While the brunette savored the bite, he snaked his fingers around Qrow’s knee. 

“Gods you’re so right.” He conceded, yanking Qrow’s leg across his lap to get them sitting chest to chest. Qrow could feel Clover’s arm loop around his waist. “This is delicious.” 

Qrow’s snicker turned into haphazard giggles as he was pulled into the straddling hold. Hanging on as Clover scooted them to the edge of the couch. Keeping Qrow held against him with one arm to make sure he wouldn’t fall backwards, the other reaching past him. 

“Remember what I said about not leaving things to interpretation?” Clover asked, Qrow nodded while he adjusted them to sit back, the man having taken a morsel of the cake out. “Good” he hummed, taking his arm off Qrow’s waist and instead gently cupping his chin, holding the cake to his lips. “Say ah, Pretty.” 

Qrow felt heat roll down his neck and back, into his stomach, while he opened his mouth, though he still managed to make a mocking ‘ah’ sound. He waited attentively while Clover set the piece on his tongue with an incredibly smug expression on his face. Qrow closed his mouth around two of Clover’s fingers and leaned back from him with a very faint little pop so he could enjoy the frankly incredible bite. In the midst of their usual back and forth, it did occur to him that their banter was escalating steadily now with the truth fully out between them. Clover was taking a deep breath, watching Qrow lick his lips and enjoy the frosting. 

“Im starting to see the trouble maker I got warned about.” Clover mumbled, voice low in his chest. 

“You got warned about me?” Qrow asked snickering. 

“Just a bit, didn't believe them with how shy you seemed, no way this man goaded a specialist into attacking him. But this? This I can see now.”

Qrow scoffed and rolled his eyes at that, “It was one time and I did snap at you when we first met.”

“Out of a hundred I'm sure. Wish I had a video of it, I'd pay good money to watch you rage bait anyone, also I didn’t notice really, too busy thinking about how nice you looked tied up like that and the whole magic lamp thing.” The captain admitted, licking off the last bits of frosting on his hand, making sure Qrow was paying attention. 

“Good to know on all accounts, but if you want my spit in your mouth this bad, I can give you a better offer.” Qrow said bluntly, certainly not blushing as Clover gave him an award winning grin, looping his not-licked hand behind Qrow’s neck to rest just below the base of his soft gray hair. 

“That so?” Clover asked in a murmur, tilting towards him. “Could you show me?”

Qrow was bold, so very bold, but also so very weak and used to going with the flow. He wanted to kiss Clover. Badly. And Clover was asking for a kiss, keeping him in place on his lap. His chest was vibrating. Of course Clover had been flirting, actually honestly flirting the whole time. He wanted him in a way that meant he wanted to take Qrow to popular restaurants and have him on the back of his Motorcycle. Clover wanted him. 

Qrow damn near mashed into his face, pressing their lips together greedily. He could hear Clover groan and felt him plant his other hand on Qrow’s waist. He could melt into the heat, a faint sigh escaping in a split moment of pause. Swallowed quickly by Clover’s mouth, the man’s warm hands moved again to cradle Qrow’s face.

Clover kissed like a man in need, savoring the seconds and hungry for more. Licking into his mouth to taste a fulfilled craving. Qrow’s limbs turned to liquid, eagerly letting the other lead the kiss. The euphoria in the relief that Clover had felt it to, the whole time if not longer than him. Clover felt the want to be in Qrow’s personal space just as much if not somehow more than Qrow wanted to be in his. The way Clover grabbed onto him and pulled them against each other felt like he wanted under Qrow’s skin and had been waiting for the moment that he could finally attempt it. 

Qrow was inclined to let him in.

No stringing him along, no maybes, or dirty little secrets. No insults or arguments. If one of them thought something was wrong the other brought it up and they came to an agreement. Clover bought him his favorite muffin in the morning, damn near every morning. Qrow was his work partner and he was proud of that. He wanted Qrow to be his romantic partner and was signaling to Qrow that he was ready to be even more proud of that.

Qrow felt like he was going to throw up, or vibrate into a new dimension, and also maybe melt into a puddle. Clover pulled back for air and Qrow sucked in a gasp of it too, trying to get his eyes to refocus on the man kissing along his jaw. He was saying something. Many things. Qrow was hearing but not fully catching it. Something about him being incredible. Complimenting his cologne and how nice his skin felt.

“Clo.” He managed out, voice floaty but with a tinge of hesitation, feeling the other pull back to look at him. 

Clover listened so well.

“You ok, Q?” He asked, attentively.

Qrow nodded, “Yeah. Yeah- need a second to catch up.” He asked quietly, feeling Clover pull them down sideways on the couch to rest their foreheads together. Sweet but starting to smile like a devil again. It made Qrow’s heart beat like a drum.

“That’s ok.”

“Was just getting a little fast… you feel nice though. You’re warm.” He felt Clover’s chest rumble while he pressed into him more. 

“Why thank you, I’m more than happy to curl up, we’ve got all the time in the world to re-acclimate you to all of that..”

“Pff, definitely.” Qrow agreed, leaning in for a soft ghost of a kiss that Clover was happy to reciprocate. “Just had a lot of realizations all at once is all.”

“Oh? Can I know one?”

“Someone I like, likes me back enough to want to be seen around town with me.”

Clover held onto him a little tighter. 

“That much of a conscious change?”

“Mhm….”

“You know … Being around you makes me feel like I know I’m not just useful.” Clover admitted softly. Qrow understands the firm grip a bit more. 

“You sure I don’t have secret plans to siphon all your semblance through making out and taking your body heat?”

“I’ve got a hunch that you definitely want my body heat but not much of my semblance. Wouldn’t be against you trying though…”

“Damn.” 

Clover hummed, “want to know something else?”

“Sure?”

“You trying to avoid me the first couple weeks or so of you and your kids being here? You never said anything bad about me but dodged me like the plague. Drove me crazy.” 

Qrow laughed, “Really? That’s what was doing it for you?”

“You had no idea what my semblance was, you’re a living legend with a weapon as gorgeous as your legs, I pulled out every stop that usually had people wanting to at least hang out with me and you just didn’t engage for like- days. You’d roll your pretty eyelashes at my jokes with a sympathy chuckle and then move on with your day.”

“You thought I was sympathetically laughing for you and you think my eyelashes are pretty? Dork?” 

“I know! I knoooow. It was so bad.”

“Well you did a really good job at being professional.”

“Too good of a job if you couldn’t even figure out I was taking you out on a date.”

Qrow smacked at his shoulder, laughing while he could feel Clover’s hand trace his side “You never called it a date, you fucker.  You called it ‘dinner to celebrate a job well done’ alright?”

“I also called it ‘dinner for just us,’ too.” 

“Still didn’t call it a date.” Qrow said, giving him a huffy look.

“Was it at least a good date?” Clover asked with a pleading tone.

“I’m on your couch, in your arms and just had your fingers and tongue in my mouth?”

Clover got that cheesy grin on his now blushing face again “So… yes. Good date?”

Qrow leaned forward and pressed their lips together through giggles, holding that for a moment before pulling back. Clover’s arm rested over his waist comfortably. “Yeah, Boy Scout, good date.”

“Good good. Then how does next Saturday sound for round two?” Clover asked, hopeful and excited.

“Hmmmm… how about a movie on my couch, some snacks, and PJs?” Qrow offered, fiddling with the edge of Clover’s ridiculous sleeve. 

“It’s a date, then. What’s your favorite bad romcom?”

~~~~