A/N: This chapter made me smile. Also, if you haven't listened to the song this fic is based on, I highly recommend listening while reading it.
Cameo Lover
Teammates
The first indication that something was going on with his team was all of the strange glances he kept getting. He had done nothing to elicit such behaviour, so when they kept seeing him and smiling deviously, he knew something was up. It didn't matter that they were in the middle of a large-wave Grimm extermination of a herd that had gotten far too close to Mantle- each person on his team still found chances to make eye contact with him, then smirk and continue the battle.
The next indication was that after the mission, they all volunteered to hang back and do cleanup. Normally, figuring out where any stragglers were located and assigning future missions was his job, but oddly enough, his team was more than happy to take it on.
"What's going on?" he asked, looking over them all carefully.
Elm shrugged, the epitome of false innocence. "We don't know what you are talking about!" she replied cheerfully, all knowing smiles.
Harriet rolled her eyes and gestured towards the waiting transport ship. "I've already sent in a request for the next carrier ship to come grab us after we're done, so you go up to Atlas. Don't you have to fill in the paperwork?"
Vine's face betrayed nothing when he glanced over at the stoic man, so Clover instead turned to Marrow. He locked eyes with the young man for a long, long time, unflinching as Marrow's face lit up, and then increasingly became more and more cowed as he realized that Clover wanted him to spill the details.
"Marrow," he began.
"Yeah, chief?" the dog Faunus squeaked.
"…Are you a good soldier?"
Instantly, Marrow puffed his chest out, all enthusiastic bravado. "Of course I am, I'm me!"
"If you are, you'll tell me what's going on."
Marrow's tail immediately curled between his legs, signifying the end of the conversation.
Sighing, Clover waved goodbye to the team, gave them brief wrap-up orders, and walked towards the ship, listening to the sounds of Marrow's sad whimpers following him.
Still, he had little time to think on it, instead focusing on the mission report which he needed to fill out. Seated in the Ace-Ops' office, he typed away diligently. Normally, he was locked in the office till all ungodly hours of the night, having to catch up on reports and mission statements and organizing intel. However, with the duty of cleanup off his hands, he would actually be able to leave at a normal hour.
To his surprise, right as he finished typing up the last document for the day, Qrow stuck his head into the door. "Knock knock, Mr. Good-luck-charm," he murmured, rumbling voice sending the blood rushing through Clover's body. "You doin' good?"
"Always," Clover replied, quickly sending the reports into James. Leaning back in his chair, he asked, "So what brings you here?"
Qrow shrugged, walking into the office fully. In his hands were two cups of tea. "Meh. Saw the lights on in here. Figured I'd return the favour." He placed one of the pleasantly-warm mugs right in front of Clover, perching himself onto the edge of the desk.
Clover felt his face heat up as he carefully picked up the mug, sipping on the tea. It was perfect. "Which favour?" he asked, raising a brow coyly.
Qrow rolled his eyes, waving a hand dismissively. "Ugh, you may have good luck, but you've got a terrible personality, y'know that, buddy?"
Clover merely beamed, logging out of the system and standing up. "You say that, but you love me anyways," he replied with a wink. His heart pounded in his ears, waiting for Qrow's surprise to fade.
Finally, the older man relaxed, winking back so coyly that Clover's knees felt weak. "Whatever you say, pretty boy," he laughed, voice gravelly and low.
Clover gulped, watching the man drink his tea, eyes locked on the man's Adam's apple as he tilted his chin up.
Qrow Branwen was on his desk. Qrow Branwen was on his desk.
The things he could do to Qrow Branwen, sitting innocently on his desk like that…
Qrow seemed unaware of his racing thoughts, instead standing up and breaking Clover's daydreams. "Well, I brought the tea thinking you'd be in here longer, since you normally are- but if you're already done, go hang out with your team."
That statement caught Clover by surprise. "Why would I do that? We're coworkers, not really friends."
Qrow shrugged, sauntering towards the door. Clover had to fight to keep his eyes fixed on the back of Qrow's head as he walked away. "I mean," the elder said, "they all seem to be having a little party in the mess, that's all. Thought it was some kinda event or something. They told me you'd be in here, after all- thought they wanted me to get you." With a small wave, Qrow headed out, leaving Clover with questions and with tea.
It took him barely three seconds of entering the officer's mess afterwards to realize why his teammates were, for the first time ever, sitting at the same table and gossiping. Hell, even Vine was there, and looking oddly flustered, at that.
Harriet chuckled as he approached, and Marrow blushed, focusing on attacking his steak fries. However, it was Elm who said, "Where's your boyfriend, boss? We let you go early so you could have a date!"
Clover almost turned around and walked back out of the officer's mess in an instant, feeling embarrassment heat up his cheeks to the nth degree. Clearing his throat, he replied as evenly as he could, "I'm not sure what you're talking about-"
"You have it hot for Qrow Branwen, and you two need to either get it out of your systems, or you need to cool it with the flirting," Harriet commented. "Like, I get it- the man's hot, in a-"
"Hare!" Marrow cried, cringing at her words and covering his ears.
Harriet rolled her eyes and continued, "But if I keep having to deal with your weird sexual tension then I'm not going on missions when he's there anymore." With that, she slammed back the rest of her beer and stood, waving to her own friends waiting for her across the pub as she moved to join them instead.
Clover had never been more embarrassed in his life. He didn't know how he got back to his quarters after that.
But the next time Qrow was assigned to one of his missions, he couldn't deny that he had never been more distracted by the little smirks (and the annoyance, in Harriet's case) of his teammates- and the way the Qrow moved so beautifully on the battlefield, ignorant to it all.