Chapter Text
It was the same as always over at Barney’s; Cain took his usual post at a nearby table, reading one of his books. Daisy, accompanied by Gina—who found the time for a visit in between her shifts at the branch campus—handled the customers' orders. Barney looked over them with a warm gaze. The sounds of laughter blended with the clinking of glasses. The beer spilled over rims as cups came together, but it was of no concern to the regulars, who were equal parts inebriated by the alcohol and the warmth of belonging that enveloped them.
Crow was often quite taken with bars and taverns of all kinds, but the mushiness that came with the tightly knit community of small towns was far too much for him. It’s a perfect place for that guy, though. He brought the rim of the flagon to his mouth and took a healthy chug, a truly content grin framing his expression.
“Well, well. Smiling like a fool today, are we?” Angelica teased, throwing a knowing smirk his way.
Crow raised a brow. “What? Can’t a guy enjoy himself in peace around these parts?” He took another sip, the muscles in his neck working as he gulped down the beer.
“When are you getting in bed with Rean?” Angelica asked, drumming her fingers against the surface of the wooden table with the casual air of someone asking about the weather.
The contents of Crow’s flagon spilled in a spurt, the remains of the liquid dripping down his chin. He broke into a cough severe enough to turn heads, slapping his chest multiple times before gathering his bearings. “What the hell, Gelica?” As if to punctuate his following statement, he slammed the flagon on the table. “Cut me some slack! You know I’m not into this banging dudes business.”
Angelica grumbled something or other under her breath, picking up her flagon and slurping along the edges. Crow could’ve sworn she did it as loud as she possibly could just to make her disappointment known. “My good friend." She began, a warmth in her gaze that he had long since come to associate with incoming nonsense. “We have known each other for much too long, haven’t we? Since our first year in Thors, when we butted heads over every little thing. I would deem myself a learned woman in the ways of Crow Armbrust, as learned as I am in the ways of untangling the knots of the hearts of my beautiful kittens.” She chuckled to herself in self-assurance, sending a wink Gina’s way across the bar, who blushed deeply in response. “It is with that confidence that I can assure you: even a blind man can tell where the deepest part of your affections lies. So? When will your love bear fruit at long last?”
Crow gave her the blankest stare he could manage. There was no way he was ever going to entertain one of Angelica’s delusions. That had never worked out for him, evidenced by a history of traumas too heinous to speak of. Towa better put her on a leash soon. “Having fun teasing poor little me?” He deflected.
Angelica shrugged. “Just calling it how I see it, my friend. George, Towa and I did a great job domesticating you during your unruly phase back in the day, but it was none of us, but rather, Rean, who dealt the finishing blow to end all of your embarrassing years of posturing. Admit it, Crow, you’d do anything he asked for in a heartbeat.”
He jumped to his feet with a start. The sound of the chair scraping along the floor turned even more heads their way. Not caring in the least about a bit of commotion, Crow launched into his own defense. “That’s ridiculous! Like I would ever—”
Ring ring
Cutting his speech short before he even had a chance to start, Crow’s ARCUS rang. Much to Angelica’s relief, he’d guess. He flipped it open a tad forcefully, but the annoyance melted away as Rean’s face popped into view in the tiny screen of the device, looking sheepish. “Crow? Are you already at Barney’s?” His voice was tinier than usual, like he was already sounding out an apology in advance.
“Been here for some minutes, catching up with Gelica and all that.” Impassioned rants about his sexual proclivities all but forgotten, Crow furrowed his brows in worry. “You’re not looking too hot. What’s wrong?”
Rean scratched his cheek in embarrassment. “Ah… Just called in to let you know I’m probably not making it to Barney’s. There was some trouble at the main campus earlier, and I got called in to help. I only got back some hours ago and haven’t had the time to grade the students’ combat tactics assignments yet.” He sighed deeply, doing one of those kicked dog expressions he did. Shit. Rean really needed to stop with those. “I’m really sorry, even though you made time for me…”
“I swear, you gotta learn how to say no sometimes, man. They’re gonna work you to an early grave. How about this? Let me grade some of ‘em. If it’s combat tactics, I've got this shit in the bag.” He winked, jabbing a thumb at himself in self-importance.
“Huh?!” Rean’s eyes went wide. “No, no, no. You’re not doing my job for me!”
“Eh. Whatever.” Crow brushed off his complaints like one would swat away a particularly pesky fly. “Be there in five. See ya, Rean.”
“Crow! I’m—” Rean’s cries of protest were cut short as Crow flipped his ARCUS closed.
Still under the curious scrutiny of several regulars, Crow stretched his arms above his head, back popping loudly. “See ya, Gelica. I wasn’t feelin’ our chat anymore, anyway.”
“And yet, today you leave this bar with the goal of chasing your love. Quite commendable, it must be said. I would be loath to fall behind,” Angelica chuckled, turning on her heel toward some of the girls at the bar, who blushed and hid their faces in their barely concealed excitement.
Mindful of Barney’s service, Crow tossed some money on the counter with extra an tip, alongside a quick thanks for the drinks. He walked out of the tavern through the amalgamation of squeals of several women, Angelica’s incredibly corny pickup lines cutting through the sound with a confidence and authenticity he could never hope to replicate.
Dammit.
Crow couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
The walk to the dorm was a path he’d already made countless times before during his sporadic visits to Leeves. The town was a warm little thing even in winter, thanks to the sunny disposition of the locals, whom Crow had inadvertently gotten acquainted with over the months. Zach and the other kids waved at him excitedly, as did the mayor and his wife, bowing. Crow would often pay a visit whenever he had business around Heimdallr, if only to make sure Rean and Towa knew he wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere.
Well, besides the locals, Crow also liked the Thors' kiddos well enough, so there’s that. He didn’t mind helping them out once in a while, as most of them were already familiar with him from the whole Great Twilight ordeal. No better opportunity to cozy up with Rean's kids than the end of the world and all that hair-raising, teeth-chattering crap. It built character.
Standing in front of the dormitory’s front door, he knocked.
“Aye, if it ain’t Crow! Come in, come in!” Pablo, that one kid obsessed with trains but who could also play a mean tune on the guitar, energetically welcomed him inside.
Crow had to respect that, so he matched his energy in kind, slapping his back in greeting. “‘Sup. How’s the band goin’?”
Pablo droned on about Valerie’s incredible vocals and Gustaf’s aptitude for the drums and, more than anything, showered Ash’s new lyrics with compliments.
Crow let the kid go on for a bit, making a mental note to bother Ash for the lyrics later, before taking off to his destination. Hands clasped behind his head, he climbed the stairs almost lazily, humming a happy little tune, thinking of all the ways he could tease Rean in the coming days.
As soon as he set foot on the third floor, the door of Rean’s room swung open as if summoned. His cute underclassman had his arms crossed over his chest and a very unimpressed expression as he glared daggers at Crow. He only wore his white inner shirt and pants, forgoing the white instructor’s coat Crow was so used to seeing him in.
“‘Sup.” Crow greeted, waving a hand.
Defeated, Rean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you even hear anything I said?”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Save the lecture; let’s get a move on." Crow slung an arm over Rean’s shoulder, pulling him along inside the room and closing the door behind them with his back.
Crow made his way inside, walking past the tachi and eastern scriptures adorning the walls of Rean's room. Framed photos of Rean's family and friends decorated his desk alongside the familiar fifty mira coin. The place was almost a tapestry of Rean's life. And you could always count on Rean to be as cheesy as possible, he thought wryly.
Crow draped his jacket over the backrest of Rean’s chair, swiping half the stack of papers and a pen from atop the desk with the deft hands of someone used to grabbing everything that was off-limits. Exaggerating the weight of the quite modest pile of papers in his arms, he plopped down on the bed, one leg casually thrown on top of the other with none of the reservations typically shown over at a friend's house.
“You’re impossible,” Rean mumbled, but he could see the quiet smile on his face above the sheet of paper Crow held. Rean returned to his post at the desk, not bothering to place Crow’s jacket elsewhere as he resumed his work, marking questions and reading over answers with the practiced ease of an instructor.
They worked through the night, occasionally making conversation about their friends, the kids, or recent developments in the Empire and Zemuria. The kind of inane but warm rapport one would build with family at the dinner table. Crow’s line of thought screeched to a halt. Wait, wait, wait. This is way too mushy!
“Crow?” Rean questioned, momentarily staying his hand as he tilted his head to the side.
Crow blinked, confused at his own mind’s wandering. “Yeah? Sorry man, spaced out a bit there.”
Rean shook his head, assuring him. “It’s fine. I was just asking how long you’re staying over this time.”
Crow squinted his eyes, feigning being deep in thought as he pressed the pen against his chin. “Dunno. Another day, maybe? I ain’t got any more urgent jobs this month, but I'm not a fan of staying long, either. Places to go, people to see, ya feel me?”
“Haha, I see, I see. That’s a very Crow answer.” Rean responded with a sad little smile.
Feeling a pang of guilt pool deep in his gut, he tried lightening the air. “What, is my cute little junior gonna miss me that much?”
Rean snorted. “Who's missing you? I just thought it was a waste that I missed going to Barney’s today, that’s all.”
This guy's always worrying about the stupidest things. An idea struck him, so Crow rushed into action. “Heh, come on, don’t be shy. Let’s make up for it, eh?” Crow lightly tapped Rean’s head with a stack of papers, fully graded, before he made his way to the radio across the room.
Rean received the papers, his eyes scanning the contents. “You better not have half-assed this.”
“Ouch. A knife straight to my heart. Just what do you think of me?” He protested, turning on the radio and switching channels until he found a song he was pleased enough with, which turned out to be one of Elliot’s newest releases.
Rean hummed, just as satisfied. “I don’t know, last time I checked, you never did graduate—”
“Man, you sure love digging up dirt. Sorry I’m not up to Instructor Rean’s standards.” He defended himself with no fight, grinning as he walked over and pulled Rean to his feet.
“Wh—” Rean squeaked.
“C'mon, get out of your own head for a bit. Move your body!” He struck a pose, raising his hand up with Rean’s. “Nothing’s stopping us from living it up on our own to make up for missing the bar. Plus, knowing you, you’ll be all weird and mopey about it, so it’s about time Ol’ Crow stages an intervention.”
“I’m not ‘weird and mopey,'" Rean mumbled weakly. Then, he closed his eyes, putting a hand to his chin in thought as he listened to the music. “Fine, but if you want to dance, we’re doing it my way. It has to match Elliot’s song.”
“Sheesh. What about letting loose didn’t ya get?” Crow asked dryly. “Sure, I’ll bite. Whatcha have in mind?”
Rean turned to assess their joined hands. Trepidation and anticipation seemed to dance in his expression, equal parts the look of a child unwrapping a gift and a man walking a tightrope.
Rean took a deep breath, closing the distance between them. Then, he took Crow’s hand with his own, settling his other hand on his partner’s shoulder.
Crow flinched, surprised, but soon caught on to Rean's intentions and followed suit with measured curiosity and amusement. His lips coiled into a smirk as he placed a hand on Rean’s waist, assuming the typical position for ballroom dancing.
“Damn, really? You had to go for the most "I'm a noble" option available, princess?” Crow teased, feeling three times greater in his own smugness. “Plus, ain’t this a bit weird for two guys?”
“Who are you calling princess?” Rean shot him a withering glare, then continued, “Well, I think it’s fine. Anything else wouldn’t suit the atmosphere of Elliot’s song, and I don’t want to treat my friend’s precious work so carelessly.”
“That’s a very Rean answer,” Crow responded, his voice so fond it sounded alien to his own ears. “No time to waste; let’s do this thing. But don’t blame me later when I step on your foot and screw things up. We simple town folk aren’t taught all that stuffy crap growing up.”
“Said the Azure Chevalier, shining symbol of the Noble Alliance,” Rean deadpanned.
Crow groaned in response. “How many times do you want me to say sorry?”
Rean smiled. “I don't know, a couple thousand more?”
Thus, their little dance began. With Crow leading, they swayed to the slow beat of the song, matching its tempo. But right before every chorus, Crow would lag behind or step on Rean’s foot with an "oops" and a grin, which earned him many unimpressed glares as Rean did his best to shake it off and match Crow’s pace stubbornly even in his failures. Their game of chase continued as the song neared its climax.
The pair stood close. Their chests touched. Their breaths mingled. A cross of blades. A promise. The breathlessness brought by the dance was not unlike the fateful clashes shared in the past, and they moved as they did then: together as one.
When the song had run its course, both had smiles on their faces.
“So? Did my irresistible allure make you swoon yet, Rean?” Crow joked, holding him close.
“Maybe I would’ve swooned harder if you weren’t intentionally missing steps for some laughs,” Rean rebutted, the scolding in his voice losing its bite to the fondness he felt.
“Damn. Jig’s up. Can’t have any fun around you anymore. What happened to that bright-eyed, honest first-year that believed his seniors?” He gave Rean’s hand a squeeze, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
A tiny little laugh rolled out of Rean’s lips. He squeezed his hand back in kind. “Did you forget? I’ve spent all these years thinking about you. By that point, I’d be in trouble if I still couldn’t see through your antics.”
Crow stiffened at the sound of such unbelievable words said so casually. He felt a weight press down on his shoulders, binding him in place. He fixed his gaze elsewhere, loosening his hold on Rean’s hand. “Geez. With killer lines like these, no wonder you’re such a hit with the ladies.”
“I’m serious, Crow.” Rean followed it up with a protest, his gaze resolute. Perhaps for the sake of granting Crow’s wish, he let go of his hand, but he would not stop without first adding his own spin to it. Rean embraced him tightly, resting his head on Crow’s shoulder. “Thank you for today. I’m really happy to see you.” He murmured in a whispery tone, letting Crow in on one of his heart's secrets.
The strands of Rean’s hair were soft as they tickled Crow’s cheek, and he could feel the touch of Rean’s nose and the ghost of his breath against his neck. Crow’s mind blanked out as he fought the almost instinctual urge to run his hand through his hair, and his pulse quickened to worrying degrees. In antithesis to the accelerated beating of his heart, cold sweat ran down his spine as he stood bound in place, arms hanging limply to his sides, not daring to hug Rean in return.
He was left breathless, lost in the tangles of his own mind.
But amidst all others, it was one thought that blared at him like a siren.
Crow might be into this banging dudes business.
Shit. And it was might—only might, mind you, a coin toss at most.
Dammit. What if Gelica had a point?
Horror washed over him as the cold embrace of death drew ever closer. No. He wasn’t gonna think like that. So what? No use freaking out over something as small as that. He’d just deal with it like a man. And he knew just the thing to start out with.