Way Off Track

Eighteenth Confession

It was clear that Qrow hadn't been doing very well over the past few days. If there was anything Clover had known about Qrow from the get-go, it was that the elder enjoyed his alcohol; Clover still laughed when remembering how clearly hungover the man had been the first time Clover had laid eyes upon him. So, to see the man only half-heartedly wink at their usual waitress before outright rejecting the offer of a drink, instead asking for hot water and massaging his temples, Clover's discomfort with the elder and his annoyance for having had his messages ignored faded away in a heartbeat.

"Hey," Clover murmured softly, reaching out across the table to grab Qrow's hand, pulling it away from his head and instead gently massaging the callused, large, bony palm within his. "What's going on, Qrow? Talk to me."

Qrow didn't respond, so Clover simply focused on massaging the tense hand within his own, smiling gently as heat coiled within him. Just holding Qrow's hand was enough to soothe some of his anxieties that had been building over the past few days. Gods, I'm weak for him, huh? Amused, he said, "I didn't see you on the train this morning. Did you get to class on time?"

When he finally looked up to Qrow's face, however, his heart fell into the pit of his stomach as dark red watched him distrustfully. Qrow removed his hand from Clover's, leaving it on his lap as he replied frankly, "Well, yeah. Had to. It's a job."

Clover paused, hand still on the table, awkwardly adjusting his hair before leaning back in their booth. "So, what's been going on? How's the situation with your student?"

That seemed to ease some of Qrow's concerns; the man sighed, sagging forward in his seat as he began to bitterly recount the situation. The waitress brought Clover's usual beer and Qrow's unusual hot water, and the elder wrapped his hands around the warm ceramic, brow furrowed and troubled. "It's just gotten more complicated than I could've bargained for," he grumbled wearily.

"What's going on?" Clover asked, biting back his own fears and heartbreak, for Qrow had never pulled away from him before, had never rejected his touch- did he hate him? Did he no longer want anything to do with Clover? Was he done with him?

The mere thought of it sent Clover to his drink, chugging down half his tank before Qrow could get in another word.

Qrow didn't even notice his sudden behaviour, too focused on his water as he fought to find the words to explain what was going on. Eventually, however, he began to speak, an exhausted, wry expression on his face. "Remember the student? I was right, she's a friend of my nieces. There's this whole situation that I'm not exactly allowed to disclose- privacy breaches, confidentiality, blah blah blah- but we're essentially trying to relocate her, but keeping her on campus doesn't seem like an option." He sighed heavily, his weariness clear in every single wrinkle upon his face. "I just want to be able to go to bed without having my nieces crying, y'know? This is really freaking Ruby out, and I'm not sure what to do about it."

"Isn't she staying with Marrow?" To his confused look, Clover explained, "Her cousin, the guy with her on Tuesday. She's been staying with him for a while; he's my secretary, so I've been checking in on them."

For the first time that evening, something resembling a smile crossed Qrow's lips. "Of course you'd be checking in, you bastard," he said quietly.

Clover frowned, crossing his arms. "What does that mean?"

Qrow rolled his eyes, ignoring Clover's question as he continued, "Apparently that cousin's place isn't working out. I wish I could say more, but…" He bit his lip, clearly wishing he could share more information. "We're looking for emergency housing, but it takes a while in this situation."

The younger sighed, watching Qrow carefully. Red eyes still averted their gaze, focusing instead on the hot water held in his hands tensely; Clover longed to reach out, to tilt his chin up, to get Qrow to look at him.

He doesn't trust me anymore, does he?

His heart began to ache as his mouth opened. How could he explain? How could he even begin to break down how he had reacted, how he had felt over the past few days, how he wished he could take it all back?

…how could he tell Qrow that he still believed that, even though he had hurt Qrow by doing so, Clover felt that rejecting his public kiss had been the safest option?

But still, the damage was done, and apologizing for hurting him could be a start to repairing things. The waitress popped in, asking hesitantly, "Do y'all want the usual food, too?"

"Yes please," Clover replied. "It's all on me today."

She smiled, clearly relieved that someone was acting the same as always. "Gotcha."

Once she was out of earshot, bringing their order for wings and dips to the kitchen, Clover leaned forward, clasping his hands around his pint. "Qrow, I wanted to apologize," he murmured at last.

"For what?" The words were dry, sour- he knew exactly what Clover meant.

"For pushing you away," Clover sighed. "I- I didn't mean to hurt you, and I'm genuinely sorry that I did. I just… I'm not used to being… public with people."

His brows shot upwards, disappearing behind his hair. "'Public with'- you're telling me that a man your age has never gone public with- are you fucking serious? What, did you just figure out that you're-"

"No!" Clover groaned, burying his face in his hands as he felt his cheeks flush so hotly they almost burned to touch. With a voice far weaker than he would've liked, he admitted, "Look, I'm from Atlas, okay? It's not exactly… spoken about there." He spat the words out, the half-truths tasting bitter upon his tongue, but he couldn't be open- not yet, at least. He wasn't lying about Atlas. He was lying about why it mattered, though. "Pretty damn taboo, actually. It's not like here- at least, I'm guessing it's not, considering how eager you were." With a grimace, he added, "You get what I'm saying, Mr. Sociology Professor?"

For a long, quiet moment, Qrow merely blinked at him, taking in this information. "I thought- I thought you were from Mantle," Qrow murmured, eyes slowly growing wide as understanding began to set in. "Wait, are you from there, or are you from Atlas?"

"Atlas." Clover winced. Do I really look like I'm from Mantle? He deflated a little, his bruised pride aching even further as his long-since internalized distaste for the poorer capital of Solitas reared its ugly head. I guess it makes sense. He's figured out my neighbourhood. I can't afford living in upper Vale yet. No wonder he didn't think I'm from Atlas.

Qrow immediately leaned back in his seat, running his fingers through his hair before stroking his chin, lost in thought. "You've gotta be fucking kiddin' me," he said, eyes hesitantly finding Clover's at last. "I thought-"

Clover reached out once again, holding his hand open, palm up. "I didn't mean to push you away," he breathed clumsily, cursing himself. Where had all his confidence at work gone?! What am I talking about? he thought, exhausted. I've never been collected in front of him. "I just need more time."

There was a brief moment when Qrow's face twisted, his eyes flashing with an anxiety that Clover had never seen in him before; then, his hand slipped into Clover's, the darkness of the pub hiding the way Clover immediately laced together their fingers and squeezed, relief coursing through his veins a headier drug than any liquor he could have ever consumed.

With a wry grin, Qrow murmured, "You're such a baby."

Clover rolled his eyes, trying to bite back the smile which wanted to overtake him expression. Qrow didn't hate him. Qrow had understood, even if only partially, and he'd forgiven him.

Clover had managed to win more time with the elder, and he wasn't going to squander it.

"I have an idea- well, two ideas," Clover said, moving forward so he could hook his ankle around Qrow's. The elder didn't move away, waiting for him to continue, so he said, "First off, didn't you say you have a larger home? If your nieces stay with you, then maybe that friend of theirs could stay, too? Only if you're comfortable with it, of course."

Qrow paused, assessing his options. "I certainly have room to spare," he agreed, speaking slowly, "but I would have to look into it- professionally, unless they are blood-related, students should not be boarding with their professors, so I'll have to ask the department head, see if there's any paperwork that needs to be done." He let out a small, whimsical sigh. "My goddamn nieces are going to be the death of me, aren't they?"

"You love them for it, though."

He snorted. "Yeah, lucky bastards." He downed the rest of his water, wincing as it undoubtedly scalded him, then said, "What was the second thing?"

"You owe me dinner- we could make plans right now?"

To his surprise, Qrow pulled his hand away from Clover's, the man's heart shattering almost audibly for a moment- but Qrow simply waved down their waitress, winking at her with far more vim and vigour than he had had upon entering. He ordered a beer for himself, ignoring her teasing comments and turning back to Clover, slipping his hand back over top of the younger's. "Alright, I'll bite. I do owe you for Tuesday, I suppose. Boy scout got a raise, after all."

Clover beamed as the two of them began discussing their plans for dinner the following week, the energy between them almost closer than ever before. And as the evening turned into nightfall, their tabs growing heavier and heads growing lighter, all the words and laughter shared began to blur together into one mess of warmth and happiness. The following morning, the only thing Clover could only focus on in his fuzzy memories was the fact that before they parted at the fifth stop on Qrow's route, the elder had paused, looked around in his drunken stupor to ensure no one was around- a response that made Clover melt, no matter how much he wanted retain some dignity- then kissed Clover with more fervour than ever before; clumsy, stumbling, tongue ring clanking upon Clover's teeth almost painfully. Clover didn't mind it one bit.

Qrow would go slow for Clover. Qrow understood. And it was as he remembered that kiss while nursing his coffee late that morning that Clover realized that he was genuinely, truly in love with Qrow Branwen, and the feeling was as euphoric as it was terrifying, because for the first time in his life he knew that he was probably loved back, too.