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"It's only fair, Qrow. The mark of a good leader is their willingness to undertake every task they might set their subordinates."
"Hmph. I'd have thought the perk of being boss is that you can palm off the boring stuff onto someone else. Especially night patrols."
Clover grinned. This was almost a play they enacted, most days. He was the diligent, dedicated, consummate professional. Qrow was the workshy, feckless, insubordinate waster.
It was something they both enjoyed.
Clover could tell, by the way his heart rate increased, when he saw Qrow along the corridor.
Qrow could tell, by the way his face warmed and his mouth went dry, when Clover told him they were partnered for a patrol.
"So, what time are we setting out? Is it ten o'clock, as usual?"
"Yep. I'll meet you at the transport, shall I? Don't be late!" And with the ghost of a wink he turned and walked away. Qrow watched as he went along the corridor, watching the swing of his arm, the sway of his hips. He swallowed hard.
Clover paused at the corner, looking back over his shoulder. Then, with a smile and a wave, he was gone.
Qrow pulled at his collar and wondered why they had to maintain the building at such a damned high temperature.
❖
Atlas was proving more enjoyable than Qrow had expected, even though the threat of war was ever present. In his darker moments—when the empty flask mocked him and the prospect of a major conflict left him queasy—thinking about Clover was surprisingly helpful. The option to blot out unpleasant thoughts with a bottle of spirits was no longer there. Clover was becoming his new coping mechanism.
Qrow didn't want to think of the other man in that way, though. It wasn't right, for either of them. But thoughts of Clover helped him get through the bleak moments, and that was okay, surely?
When they were together, Qrow felt the world made more sense.
He'd never been much of a flirter. Well, that wasn't quite true. He was perfectly capable of directing mostly inappropriate comments to bar staff, when he was a few glasses into his evening. Sometimes they hit. Quite often, they didn't.
The exchanges with Clover, though, were quite different. Even his more barbed comments elicited a laugh, sometimes accompanied by a friendly nudge. Once, Clover had even tweaked his nose.
Qrow still had to pay him back for that.
❖
Clover was at the transport five minutes early, chatting to the pilot about the possibility of snow later. There was still no sign of Qrow when ten o'clock arrived. He pulled out his scroll in case he'd missed a message, but there was none. As he slid it back in his pocket, he looked up to see a familiar figure standing before him.
"We good to go, then?" Qrow's smile was just short of a smirk.
"Where did you spring from? I was keeping an eye open; you weren't anywhere near." Clover frowned as he took a seat opposite Qrow.
"Perhaps you weren't looking hard enough."
Clover looked at his self-satisfied grin, and wondered how hard his kiss would have to be to stop Qrow looking so pleased with himself. He felt the back of his neck grow warm at the ill-timed thought.
They climbed down from the back of the transport and headed for the wall. A few scattered snowflakes swirled about their heads as they reached the top and began their slow walk.
"Was this really the best time to show your subordinates you're one of them?" Qrow's hands were thrust as far into his pockets as they would go, and he shot Clover an aggrieved look. "This snow is getting thicker, I swear."
Clover glanced upwards. "You're not wrong. The pilot did say there was bad weather coming."
Qrow groaned. "We could have put this off until tomorrow, y'know."
"I suppose... but Qrow, you'd have been depriving me of your company." He grinned as Qrow turned a scowling face towards him. "What do I have to do to put a smile on that handsome face?"
Qrow gulped. "Uh..."
"No suggestions? Guess I'll have to think of something myself, then." He winked at his partner and turned his face forward, grinning to himself.
Qrow knew he was falling behind in the flirting race. Clover was definitely the expert in this field.
"So, Clover, have you always been this insufferable, or has it developed with age?" Qrow's innocent question floated on the air between them, along with the increasingly thick snowflakes which were sticking to Qrow's hair like confetti.
"Insufferable, huh? I guess it takes one to know one." Clover nudged him gently, and Qrow laughed.
"Will I ever get the better of you? It's an uphill struggle at the moment."
Clover shot him a sideways glance. "You might, if I decide to submit to you."
Qrow's breath hitched in his throat. Clover's emphasis on the word submit had to mean... something.
As the flakes became thicker, swirling around their faces thanks to their exposed situation, Qrow said, "To be honest, we'll be hard pushed to see much at all in this. Visibility is pretty poor right now."
Clover stopped, scanning the area beyond the wall.
"You're right. I'm starting to wonder if this was a wise move."
"Hmph. I did say." Qrow was starting to feel the cold, even though his Aura was doing its best. "We either give it up for tonight, or walk faster, I guess." He flapped his arms from side to side, trying to generate some heat.
"Let's go on a little farther... there should be a guard post not far from here." Clover began to stride ahead purposefully, and Qrow hurried after him. He took his hands from his pockets and rubbed them together, huffing on them in an attempt to keep them from freezing completely.
The guard post came into view and they both went inside. It wasn't especially warm, but being out of the whirling gusts was a relief. Qrow stamped his feet and continued to rub his hands, and Clover checked the cupboards.
"We've got the makings of a cup of coffee here, if you're interested."
"Very interested."
Clover set the kettle to boil and spooned coffee into two mugs. He turned to Qrow with a smile.
"I'm sorry, Qrow. I feel bad for insisting we come out, when the weather forecast was poor."
"Forecasts aren't always right... and these patrols are important. I just wish my hands weren't so damned cold." Qrow flexed his fingers as he spoke, eyebrows raising as Clover took his chilled hands and held them between his own.
"They really are... but then, you know what they say." He rubbed Qrow's hands gently, his fingers coaxing some warmth back into the cool skin.
Qrow tried not to show how much he was enjoying it. "What do they say?"
"Cold hands, warm heart." Clover's gaze met Qrow's as they stood close together. "Is that true, d'you think, Qrow?"
Qrow smiled at him. Right, if it's a flirt war he wants... he's got it.
"Could be. I guess it's up to you to find out." He winked at Clover.
The kettle came to the boil and turned off with a loud click. Clover hesitated for a moment, before going to the narrow counter and pouring water into the mugs. He stirred them rapidly, rinsing the spoon and replacing it on the tray.
He looked at Qrow, who was regarding him with a smile. His arms were folded with his hands tucked into his armpits.
"You realise you've challenged me, Qrow. I can't let that slide, you know." His voice was serious, but Qrow saw a muscle twitching at the corner of his mouth.
"I expect nothing less from the leader of Jimmy's best of the best." Qrow kept his eyes locked on Clover's, his smirk barely reined in.
"So, how far can I go in my exploration of the warmness of your heart?" Clover took two steps forwards, standing just in front of the other man.
Qrow felt the small room was heating up nicely. He straightened his arms, flexing the fingers with a nod of approval.
"Don't worry, I'll be sure to let you know if you're about to overstep."
There was a long moment's silence between them. The wind rattled the door in its frame, and the sound of breathing was all that could be heard within the room. Clover closed the gap, taking one of Qrow's hands in his.
"Not so cold, now," he observed, as he placed his other hand flat against Qrow's chest. He heard Qrow's breath catch, and saw the tip of his tongue as it ran across the edge of his lip. "It's not so easy to feel the warmth of your heart like this, though."
"You'll have to get creative, then." Qrow's voice was a little unsteady, and he looked into Clover's eyes. "How warm are your hands, Clover?"
"Would you like to find out?"
Qrow bit his lip. Clover swallowed hard.
Gods, he's... hot. Even when he isn't.
"You have my permission." Qrow smirked, his voice husky.
Clover smiled, and dropped his gaze to Qrow's chest. He undid the buttons on his waistcoat, slowly and carefully. It fell open, and he tugged at Qrow's shirtfront, loosening it from the waistband of his trousers.
He peered at Qrow, his eyes asking the question. Qrow nodded, unable to speak. His sole focus was on breathing at the moment.
"Don't want to get you chilly," said Clover, as he slid one hand beneath the white fabric. His fingers brushed Qrow's stomach, delicately circling his navel. He smiled. "Pretty warm, I'd say."
"Try a bit higher." Qrow managed to get the words out— just. The sensation of Clover's fingers on his skin was thrilling, a glimpse of somewhere Qrow hadn't been for the longest time.
Clover hummed, deep in his chest, as he moved his hand further up. The hem of the shirt worked looser as he did so, and when his fingers chafed against a hard nipple, Qrow couldn't suppress the moan which had been building. He felt his legs weaken, and he leant against the counter for support. Clover moved one leg between Qrow's thighs, the faint pressure drawing gasps from both of them.
"You know, I never thought a remark about your cold hands would lead to this." Clover's words faltered as Qrow nudged his leg forwards. "Qrow... we're meant to be on patrol." Even as he spoke, Clover pinched Qrow's nipple, his other hand sliding around his waist to pull him closer.
"I know. You're a bad soldier." Their mouths were so close, Clover could feel Qrow's warm breath on his lips. He could sense the curve of Qrow's smirk, and every part of his body wanted to surround the older man, and to be surrounded by him in turn.
Clover heaved a shuddering sigh, and stepped away. "You're shameless, Qrow. Wanton, reckless, brazen—"
"Is this a problem?" Qrow tucked his shirt in with trembling hands. He felt far less assured than he sounded.
Clover's laugh was more like a gulp. "No... I just wasn't expecting it."
"Well, I wasn't expecting to be almost kissed by a high ranking soldier of the Atlas military, so I guess we're even." He finished buttoning his waistcoat, turning to take a mug from the table. He held it out to Clover.
"Coffee?"
Clover's breath was steady now. He took the mug with a smile. "Holding a mug of coffee is also a good way to warm your hands."
"Your hands are plenty warm enough, Clover."
The younger man frowned. "As nice as that was—and it was more than nice, from where I was standing, don't get me wrong—I don't want you to think..." Clover broke off, his frown deepening. "I don't just want to... to grope you, Qrow. I like you, and respect you, and—"
Qrow silenced him with a finger pressed against his lips. He guided Clover's hand holding the mug to the table, and Clover set it safely down, looking at Qrow in puzzlement.
"I know." He traced his finger across Clover's mouth, and leant in to kiss his lips gently. "Yeah, that was more than nice... and I like and respect you too. Even if it doesn't always seem like it," he finished, with a grin.
Clover straightened his shoulders, and held Qrow at arms' length. "So... shall we go for a coffee sometime? When we both have time off?"
"That'd be nice. Yeah, let's do that."
They picked up their mugs and sipped at the tepid coffee.
"And wherever we go, let's make sure the coffee's better than this," said Qrow.
"Copy that." Clover drained his mug and took Qrow's from him. They were quickly rinsed and left on the tray for whoever used the guard post next.
Qrow made a fist and rubbed at the condensation on the window, squinting out into the night. "Snow's stopped."
"Best get on, then." Clover cast a look around the room, then opened the door, allowing Qrow to go out first.
They resumed their patrol, staying closer to one another now, hands occasionally brushing together as they walked.