touch (scintillas)
Clover does indeed like the rookies, but he's getting a little tired of all of this.
The children who follow Qrow around are back and more loving than ever, which is fine in all aspects but one: Clover can no longer seem to find any time to be alone with the elder. For the past few days, he has been monopolized wholly by his nieces, and then after that, the other children, too. James has even been asking Qrow to chat and reminisce about days past, leaving Clover sitting in his room after work hours, waiting for messages on his Scroll to indicate that the elder was coming to be with him. Each day, he says he won't for it is too late, or their mornings are too early, or Ruby and Yang want him to stay a little longer so Clover should sleep without him.
It is absolutely childish, and he knows this. It does not change the fact that he is still obscenely jealous of everyone else who has managed to take away Qrow's attention from him.
A few days after their return to Atlas, Clover finds himself cutting cake for Ruby. Her birthday is coming up at the same time as her designation guard shift at the midway outpost upon the tundra, so Yang has organized a little get-together beforehand with cake and treats for the younger girl. It isn't every day that they could find a reason to celebrate, after all.
Why Clover is in charge of cutting the cake, he doesn't know. He does not mind the task; it is mindless, easy, and the laughter of the rookies and the Ace Ops and other students and staff of Atlas was ringing throughout the room they have commandeered for the little event, so Clover is more than happy to contribute to the atmosphere, even in this little way.
"Why are you cutting them so small? The rookies are little, but they can handle a bit more sugar than that," Qrow laughs, peering at Clover's handiwork over his shoulder. His hand rests comfortably upon Clover's waist, out of sight from the others.
Clover shrugs, biting back his own flush, his own urge to tease the elder. Out of the corner of his eye, he looks at the exit; if he took Qrow and dragged him off now, would anyone notice-
This is his niece's birthday party, Clover sighs, reprimanding himself silently. Calm down.
Qrow is still waiting for a response, though, watching him with a hint of worry, so Clover merely hums, "It's for you, not them."
He can feel the look of bewilderment probing the back of his head as Qrow starts. "Wha- why?"
"Oh, you know."
"I'm not following, boy scout."
Clover grins, glancing over for a brief moment to wink at the elder, fighting back the urge to simply hold the man then and there the moment he sees that handsome face. "It's just that for someone with so much confidence, you've sure got a small mouth, huh?"
The noise that rips from Qrow's throat can only be called a squawk, so grating that Clover almost pauses to see if he has transformed into a bird to hide the blush that is undoubtedly overtaking pale skin. He resists that urge, however, continuing to cut the cake into small pieces, sliding each slice onto a plate for the rookies.
"Uncle Qrow, what's wrong?" he hears Ruby ask, concern and curiosity mingling in her voice.
The elder coughs, clears his throat, sighs. "Nothing, kiddo," he replies, almost glum.
Grinning wickedly, Clover hands her a plate and a fork, winking at Qrow, relishing in the way his cheeks light up just as brightly as Clover predicted. Qrow only glowers back, taking a plate of cake for himself. "I cannot believe you!" Qrow hisses, looking over to Ruby anxiously as the girl walks away.
Clover chuckles, elbowing him gently in the ribs. "You say that, but I'm not wrong."
"Oh, it was plenty big enough to-"
"Then prove it."
The unspoken challenge is there, hanging palpably in the air, creating a pocket of stillness around them, the sounds of the party fading away for just a heartbeat as Qrow's Adam's apple bobs up, down, lips parting, eyes widening-
Clover hands a piece off to Nora, warning Ren silently with a raised brow to make sure it is the only piece she gets. To Qrow, he adds, "If you like, we can take back some of this cake. Put those words to the test."
Qrow's crimson cheeks are almost neon. "We are in front of-"
Innocently, Clover picks up a slice for himself, taking a bite, tongue sliding between the prongs of his fork sensually as he watches Qrow's flustered reaction. No one notices- no one but Qrow, of course. "It's not bad cake, but I'm sure I know something which tastes better-"
Qrow squeaks again and storms off, leaving Clover in stitches as he hands a piece of cake off to Harriet. Yet, when Qrow arrives at his room that evening, Clover knows that the elder isn't angry.
Clover kept a piece of cake, too- it sits in his fridge, waiting. Qrow blushes again when he sees it, for he knows what awaits him.