Way Off Track

Twenty-Second Figure

Waking up to Qrow was the best thing in the world, Clover decided that morning. Seeing crimson eyes open up, creasing happily before a long, pink tongue emerged to point childishly at him, was just the icing on the cake; the sight of the tongue piercing with which Clover had grown far more intimate than he would've ever imagined the night before made him decide that this could not possibly be real, that it had to be but a dream. After months of pining after the elder, how could this have become his life?

In a rough, raspy voice, Qrow murmured, his eyes falling shut once again, "It's early. Go to bed."

So, Clover obeyed, for his bed had never been cozier in that dingy little apartment.

Eventually, however, they had to crawl out of bed, an act which made Clover more aware of the sorry state of his apartment than ever; there was absolutely no room for the two of them to stand together in front of the bathroom sink while brushing their teeth. Qrow was happy to lean his head against Clover's shoulder while he did so, though, so it wasn't so bad. Clover's usual cup of coffee tasted all the more delicious now that Qrow was seated at the table opposite to him, and even after he returned from the gym, finding the elder waiting expectantly for him made the ache in his muscles fade away.

Despite that gentle routine, he was more exhausted than he would have expected come Monday morning. He didn't mind, though- something about making up two thermoses of coffee rather than just one felt right, and nothing about their activity that weekend was regrettable. Embarrassing, yes- incredibly so- but perfect, nonetheless.

Not even the squalor of the usual subway station could detract from his good mood, his smile carrying him over the stench of urine and waste rising up from the oddly humid station exit to ground level once he arrived at his office's stop. After all, he could still feel Qrow' lips on his cheek, the professor having pecked him goodbye at University Station ("I could get used to this," the elder had laughed lightly, "'cause for once I might actually be on-time to that history lecture-") and that high could not be tamped by anything.

Qrow wanted him, too. The thought still left him a little delirious.

The moment he walked into the office, Marrow interest was piqued. "Something good happen this weekend, bossman?" he asked, raising a brow curiously. "You look happy."

Clover paused, taking a moment to check himself. The smile on his face was indeed wider than usual, the light in his eyes, brighter. With a quiet chuckle, he replied, "Coffee ready?"

"Always!" Marrow grinned with a light salute.

Taking a moment, Clover felt his heart settle down a tiny bit, for he was not the only one who apparently had had a positive weekend. "How goes it with your cousin?" he asked as he headed into his office to drop off his belongings.

Instantly, Marrow's face split into a wide, relieved smile. "She's staying with some friends, thank god. It was rough over the last while- my apartment is not meant to have multiple people there."

Thinking back to his own place, Clover nodded in understanding, although he certainly did not mind his newest houseguest who took up what scant room remained in his home. "Well, I'm glad you're doing a bit better."

"Thanks," was the beaming, grateful reply, the young secretary completely unaware of Clover's personal investment in the situation.

With his heart a little lighter, Clover made his rounds of the office, watching another petty argument break out between Harriet and Vine whilst Elm contented herself to video-calling her nieces in her cubicle. It was a bizarre sight to be sure, but the moment Clover asked for the completed project, all three members of his main staff were able to procure results without hesitation before turning back to their nonsense.

He snorted, gathering the project files they had created. Well, they're reliable, at least, he thought wryly as he carried the files to his office with Marrow's help. That's comforting.

As always, work went well. James was back in the Atlesian main office of AST, so all Clover had to do was present their finished product to their latest client. The sales pitch went well, the contract signed; soon, everything was taken care of, and the sun was already beginning to set before he even began packing his belongings up for the day. By the time he was leaving the office, the air had begun to smell crisp, yet muggy, electricity crackling in the air for an impending storm. Checking the forecast, it was clear that that night would be a damp one, so he had all the incentive in the world to hurry home.

Yet, at University Station, he stepped off the train. Qrow was always surprising him at his office, and although it wasn't their usual Tuesday takeout, he was sure the elder wouldn't mind a little extra company on the ride home since they were finally going the same direction.

That very thought warmed his heart. He did not mind giving up his usual seat tucked at the end of his carriage if it was for Qrow- if it meant that he didn't have to say goodbye at the elder's stop.

However, the Department of Sociology's building on campus was distinctly lacking any signs of the professor. "Sorry," the administrative clerk said ruefully, "I haven't seen him around since noon. I know he did have some back-to-back lectures, but they should have ended by now…"

"It's alright," Clover replied easily, hiding away his immediate worry. He could always text Qrow; perhaps the man had just stopped by to visit his nieces, to see how Blake was doing.

With that hopeful thought in mind, he set forth. Maybe I can make him dinner, he thought lightly. I haven't actually cooked for him- I'm sure I can make something, at least-

He paused halfway across campus as he finally finished messaging the elder about his plans. There weren't really any students around- with the storm warnings having grown more official, it was clear that people had left campus as soon as possible, and he would be wise to do the same- and yet, it would still make sense to see people around the area. Late-night classes were common enough, and a decent amount of people lived on the campus itself, after all.

And yet, he could not shake the feeling that the solitary figure standing in front of one of the lecture buildings did not necessarily belong there. The rain hadn't started yet; there was no reason to be lurking outside of the side door, hood drawn, hands shoved into the pockets of a large, bulky coat. With no one else around, it looked more than a little out of place to be waiting outside of those doors, especially without a backpack or anything to signal that the tall, lean figure might be waiting for a class to start.

I wonder if there are exams happening? I used to just show up with a pencil and pen for those. The figure pulled a cigarette and a lighter out of their pocket, a trail of smoke soon filling the air lazily, rising upwards only to dissipate in the more turbulent winds above. The glow of the stranger's cigarette allowed Clover to see a young, handsome face underneath his hood, along with a shock of dark red hair. Well, he thought wearily as he began to walk along once again, I guess there's all sorts of types at a school as big as this. No point worrying about it.

With that thought in mind, he continued along his way to the train station. Oddly enough, Qrow did not respond to his messages, something which worried Clover to no end, but there was absolutely no point lingering on campus while he waited for the other man's reply.

His worries were instantly eased as he stepped through the threshold of his apartment, though. "Welcome home, boy scout," came that familiar, husky voice from the kitchen, riding alongside tantalizing smells of rosemary and chicken. It was spoken so easily- so normally, as if those words had been exchanged between them for years.

Qrow eventually had to come to the front of the apartment to grab Clover himself. The younger was a little shell-shocked by the greeting; it had been a long, long time since someone had welcomed him back after work. Blake can stay at Qrow's house as long as she likes, Clover thought to himself as Qrow ushered him inside, already dressed in some of Clover's loungewear that was all a little too loose on the willowy man's frame. If Qrow can stay with me, they can have that house.

And as Clover looked over his finances that night to ensure that his pay had been deposited for the month, he didn't even spare a thought towards his future place downtown. He had everything he needed right there with him, after all.