Way Off Track

Twenty-first Truth

The Friday he brought Qrow back to his apartment was a sudden one.

The call was abrupt, jarring. Clover's cell rarely rang in the office, having been set to only ring in case of emergency- he had long ago grown sick of listening to his mother's increasingly-frustrated needling and Robyn's jabs, so he had taken to ignoring his phone whenever possible as of late- and yet, here it was, ringing away despite the fact that James' heel had yet to clear his doorway. The elder immediately stepped back into his office, raising a brow as Clover immediately dove for his cell phone.

Qrow's voice did not sound anxious nor panicked, a sign which immediately soothed Clover's spiked heartrate. "Hey, boy scout," that familiar, lovely drawl rang in his ear. "Sorry to bother you at work, but I figured I should call instead of ambushing you on the way."

"Sure- no worries," Clover replied a little breathlessly, turning away from the door to hide his flushed face from James who watched him curiously. "What can I help you with?"

"Does that offer still stand?"

"Offer?" Clover paused, searching back through his memory. Had he offered to help Qrow with-

Oh.

Heat flooded his body, knocking him so far off-balance that he found himself leaning onto his desk for support, clearing his throat to remove the blockage. His eyes flitted up to James, then immediately focused back upon the list of unread emails in his inbox as a means to distract himself, for the elder's expression had switched from baffled to wickedly intrigued; he cleared his throat again, then replied shakily, "Of course. Anytime. Do you need it soon?"

"Today if it's possible. The girls need to take over my apartment starting tonight, apparently."

Taking in a long breath, Clover forced his shoulders to relax, his body to decompress. He needed to remain calm- why, he didn't know, for Qrow had already seen his most embarrassing vulnerabilities (although James certainly hadn't, so perhaps that was why)- so he focused on banishing the images which sprang to mind about what that evening would look like. Qrow is coming home with me.

"-over? Clover, you there?"

Startled, Clover squeaked, "Y-yeah, I'm still here. I'm good."

Qrow's laughter rang clear and true even over the phone, his husky tones echoing in Clover's ears. "Was worried for a second there, boy scout."

Quietly, Clover sighed. "I'll meet you at your office if you'd like?"

"University Station is fine."

After exchanging soft goodbyes, Clover hung up the phone, turning off the volume on his phone. The action was interrupted however by a sly, amused question. "So who was that, hm?"

Clover gave James a rueful smile as he sank into his office chair. "You know."

James' eyes softened, the elder crossing his arms contentedly as he leaned against the doorframe for but a moment. "I'm glad you've found someone, Clover," he said simply. "You've been far too focused on work all this time."

Before Clover could protest, James left his office, leaving the man to stew in his embarrassment and shy, giddy glee. Qrow's actually going to stay with me, he realized in wonder. He's actually going to stay.

And stay, he seemed intent to do, for waiting at the base of the staircase leading up off the platform at University Station was none other than the professor himself, dressed in his usual grey blazer and dark slacks. A small duffel bag hung over his shoulder in place of his usual briefcase, and in his free hand was a bag of what looked to be takeout, likely from one of the many restaurants on campus.

Clover had to pause, taking in a deep breath as he prepared himself to approach the other man. How should he begin this? What should he say-

By chance, Qrow lifted his eyes, catching sight of Clover's sleek outward figure. Immediately, the man's crimson eyes lit up, a lopsided grin growing upon his face, emanating such unbearable softness that Clover had to bite his tongue to near-bleeding in order to fight off the immediate flush threatening to overtake him. There was no need to hide his affection, he knew- old habits died hard, though.

However, Qrow did not give him any more time to hesitate. Walking over to the younger, Qrow slung his small duffel bag over Clover's shoulder. "My hero," he said dryly, eyes flashing in amusement.

Rolling his eyes, Clover hefted the bag properly and sighed. "Well, we're riding to the last stop. Is that alright with you?"

"Lead the way, pretty boy."

The journey itself was straightforward, and soon, Clover found himself just a few blocks away from his apartment building; the moment he realized where he was- just a few streetlights from actually admitting to Qrow in what kind of squalor he was living- his steps slowed to a halt on the sidewalk, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. What in the world would Qrow say, seeing it?

He doesn't care, his mind reasonably supplied. He already knows you're in this area. The subway, the streets- he doesn't have any issue with it. Why bother trying to hide it?

Not for the first time, he cursed his family back in Atlas for placing this curse over him. He wasn't living in a way that necessitated shame at all… right?

So why did he care so much, still?

So, taking in a deep breath, he readjusted his work bag and the duffel and beckoned Qrow along. "Almost there," he said, praying that his smile was nowhere as tense as he felt. Judging by how Qrow's frown deepened, it wasn't the case. However, the elder said nothing as they finally arrived at his dingy apartment building, climbing up the stairs and finding their way to his unit.

As they walked in, however, Clover found that it wasn't even the location or the neighbourhood that made him feel uncomfortable now that Qrow was in his home. No, it wasn't either of those things- it was his apartment itself. The elder commented off-handed, "Damn. I figured you'd be a neat freak, but I didn't expect… this."

Clover felt himself flush, immediately clearing his throat and putting on his most sales-worthy smile. Never before had the starkness of his home been so prominently on display. It had never bothered him before, but now that someone was actually here to look at it… "I told you, I'm saving up," he said, keeping his eyes trained on the completely plain, barren dining table. "I've been wanting to move downtown ever since I got here, so I didn't invest in anything big that I would have to actually take with me."

"No knickknacks? No trinkets?" Qrow whistled, glancing around the empty, plain apartment, his expression a mix of incredulous and amazed and mildly concerned. "I mean, there's saving up, and then there's…"

Clover shrugged, trying to play off the discomfort ravaging his heart. "I didn't take a lot with me when I moved here, and with work being so busy, I never felt like really decorating."

"Only here to eat and sleep, got it," Qrow said, smile softening kindly. Taking a deep breath, he placed the food on the table and stretched, unbuttoning his blazer to relax a little bit. "Well. Home sweet home. I guess I'll enjoy taking a break from my place."

Raising a brow, Clover placed Qrow's belongings on one of his sofas and then began grabbing plates for their dinner. "I guess your place is-"

"Running out of space, thanks to the kiddos."

"Sure, blame it on them."

Qrow leaned his head back and laughed, hearty and free as he unpacked the dinner and drinks he had bought for them. The sound of his deep, throaty laughter was enough to break the increasingly-oppressive atmosphere that had been steadily choking Clover's heart. Qrow didn't mind his home, didn't judge him for it. It was alright.

Dinner was delicious, and soon, the duo were clinking beer cans and stretching after their meal. That could only last for so long, however, and Clover's immediate desire to tidy up struck as it inevitably would. He quickly gathered the plates and headed to the sink, much to Qrow's amusement, the elder quickly following him back into the small kitchen.

Halfway through washing the second dish, Qrow put down the dishcloth and asked, "So, Atlas boy. Why come to Vale at all?"

Clover froze, placing the plate in his hands into the sink wearily. How long had it been since he had truly confronted what had happened to him all those years ago? The mere thought of it caused his gut to seize, turning into solid rock in his core, weighing him down like concrete. How could he say it, when he had never uttered a word of it to anyone?

Qrow's touch never pulled away as he debated. Leaning back into that warm, calloused touch, he finally murmured, "I… I dated a guy. Long-term in university. It was…" He trailed off, eyes misting over as he allowed himself to be brought back to a situation he swore he'd forget, yet never could.

"I'm guessing it wasn't the shittiest," Qrow muttered wryly, "until something happened?"

Clover laughed before he could stop himself, some of the heaviness abating underneath Qrow's knowing gaze. "It was amazing at first," he said simply. "And then, people found out, and he threw me under the bus." The very thought of it was enough to make him grip the edge of the counter, the image of Robyn's shocked face flashing into his mind enough to set his blood boiling. His half-sister had found out, and then, everyone had found out, and… here they were, after he had been left behind again and again.

Qrow winced visibly. "No wonder you left Atlas."

"I don't know how I even survived for that long in Atlas," he admitted. "They're not exactly… welcoming there." Taking in a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders, puffing his chest out. He had grown far too much since his days when he would hide in seedy parts of Mantle in order to avoid the wealthier families in his circle and their never-ending judgement. "Graduation was rough."

"Family kicked you out?"

"Not a penny to my name."

"Then why still call you constantly?"

And just like that, Clover felt his knees wobble, leaning onto the counter for support. "Guilt? To see whether I've been 'cured'? I don't know."

"…I'm proud of you for leaving, then."

"…Thank you."

And he meant it. He had finally said it. After over a year of swallowing up the story that had haunted him for so long in Atlas, he had finally said those words aloud. It felt… freeing.

Wiry, powerful arms wrapped around Clover's waist, a stubble-covered chin resting upon his shoulder, tickling him. "Good choice on coming here, then. Welcome to Vale, where no one cares about your relationships."

"I stayed in Atlas for quite a while after university," Clover said regretfully. "I thought everything would go back to normal eventually, but it never really did. Everywhere I went, rumours followed, so… yeah. We're here now."

He was unable to hide his disgust and disappointment from his voice, something which the elder immediately picked up on. "What, you're not a fan of Vale?"

Clover chuckled awkwardly, shrugging. How could he possibly explain it, especially to Qrow, of all people? "I wasn't really a fan of it… I mean, until recently."

"What happened recently?" Qrow asked, his chuckles rumbling through his chest against Clover's back. "Oh, of course- meeting me would be anyone's highlight." When Clover didn't respond, simply going back to scrubbing grease off a plate, Qrow's arms tightened around his torso. "You- that was a joke, you know. You can't be serious."

Clover smiled. "I don't know. Maybe listening to you preach about income inequality on your podcast changed my views a bit," he teased.

"Shut up," Qrow groaned, letting go of Clover. The loss of the elder's touch was instantly noticeable, gooseflesh rising upon Clover's bare forearms in the absence of Qrow's heat; however, rather than pulling away, Qrow simply placed the dishes into the sink and grabbed Clover by the hand, dragging him out of the kitchen.

"Qrow, wait-"

"We've got some lost time to make up for," Qrow said firmly, his wicked grin almost audible in his tone. "You've made me wait long enough, and now that I know why you're so worried about this, I can easily tell you that that kind of bullshit isn't going to happen here- not with me."

Qrow was not lying. Clover did not sleep very well that night. He did not mind at all, though.