Chapter Text
“Every single person on this planet deserves to be treated with dignity, no matter where they come from or what their ancestry is or even what semblance they are born with.”
Those were the words of a very wise man who once held a renowned and esteemed position in Remnant. A man who once hoped so much of the world he resided over, that he believed his words would influence and inspire the many around him to do good and be good.
That being said, if Ozpin had a grave to roll around in, he certainly would have been if he could see Qrow right this moment, walking five paces back and one to the side so that he was exactly in line with Clover Ebi’s backside.
The only slight positive? His eyes weren’t as far south as many might assume.
The trade off? He really, really shouldn’t be staring at a Faunus’ ears so intently. It was probably (read: definitely) rude at best and maybe ( absolutely ) objectifying at worst.
But he just… couldn’t help it.
Qrow wasn’t dumb. He knew when he was attracted to someone - and Clover was kind of the whole package. Handsome, strong, with striking wavy chestnut brown hair, had a great smile and a voice so smooth it would make a blues singer jealous. But then all that sex appeal was juxtaposed by those overly large, rhombus-shaped deer ears that, ridiculously, made him more alluring. Because they made Clover, on top of everything else, cute . Like they held the key to eternal youth, perpetually keeping a boyish look about him.
With the way they stood out, it was impossible not to notice them. The backs of the ears were just a few shades lighter than Clover’s hair, the slight tans giving it an almost caramel coloration. But the inner part had linings of white fluffy tufts that screamed ‘touch me I’m soft’. And how Qrow wanted to.
Could the Gods really blame him if he did? Adorable and sexy was a dangerous combination and Qrow was but a mere mortal.
Those ears were also just so oddly fascinating. It seemed Clover had full control over them - a rarity among Faunus with ear traits - able to move them almost in full rotations. In the short time he’d known the other, he’d already seen him angle them up, drop them down, pull them back and even move the two individually from one another.
Even now, they were constantly in movement, angled slightly upward so Clover could rhythmically move them back and forth, almost like a pendulum. Qrow couldn’t stop watching it, as if hypnotized.
The spell broke when they shot straight up.
Then Clover was reaching for his weapon and barking, “Qrow, down! ”
It was only decades of instinct and training that had him diving to the floor, Kingfisher’s deadly spear-end swinging scant centimeters above his falling form and plunging straight into the cranium of an emerging Centinel. It gave a chittering cry before bursting into smoke.
Qrow stared at the empty hole left behind in shock.
Clover gave a sigh of relief, drawing back his weapon. “Good reflexes. You alright?” He asked as he offered his hand.
Numbly, Qrow took it, allowing himself to be hauled up. As he caught his footing again, he blurted out, “Did you hear it?”
It was the wrong thing to say, because Clover’s eyes widened marginally, before his ears dropped low. “Yeah. Course I did.” He turned, striding back down the hall, calling without looking back, “Come on, we need to get moving.”
Great going idiot, you made it awkward. Qrow quickened his pace to instead walk next to the other huntsman, wracking his brain desperately on how to save the situation. Change the subject!
“Gotta say, I’m uh,” He started awkwardly as they turned down into a wider tunnel, floundering for something, anything . “Not used to working with other huntsmen on the field…”
Maybe it was just his imagination, but he swore Clover’s left ear perked up ever so slightly, as if giving him his attention. “Really now? I figured people would be falling all over themselves to work with one of the best.”
Something about the way that was said fired off all sorts of warning bells in Qrow’s head, so he was careful as he replied, “Let’s just say my semblance doesn’t make that the easiest thing to do.”
“Hm. What is it?” The question was almost dismissive, like the other was expecting to be fed a line of bullshit.
That was about when Qrow’s mind decided to do something useful and actually work beyond the rampant attraction to figure out what was actually going on.
It was no secret that even in the Hunters Guild, Faunus weren’t well received. They were often overlooked for high paying gigs and when they did work one, it often didn’t get the news coverage a human huntsman would get. In some districts, it was so bad that mission reports were often outlined with a “No Faunus” requirement and many fellow guild members outright refused to work alongside them on joint missions - or if they did, it was often begrudgingly.
Qrow allowed himself two seconds to feel indignant for being profiled - before quickly letting it go.
Because he was part of the problem, wasn’t he?
As a huntsman, he had a responsibility that far extended past simply: Kill Grimm, Get lien. With all his prestige and fame, he could easily make headlines by doing missions with some Faunus hunters that wouldn’t be overlooked by the networks. Get the other hunters thinking that ‘if The Great Qrow Branwen will work with Faunus, maybe I should too’.
Ugh. As Tai would say, he needed to set an example .
But he didn’t do that.
He couldn’t do that.
It didn’t erase the fact it gave him a bad look, however unintentional.
So maybe it was all that, that had him admitting something he never intended to, if only because he so desperately wanted Clover to understand him.
Or maybe just have a better reason to hate him that didn’t make him feel like the dregs of the earth.
“It’s… misfortune. I bring bad luck to those around me, whether I want to or not.”
The way Clover’s ears shot up made him tense, almost expecting another order to duck. But when the other only looked at him, nothing given away on that calm and composed face, Qrow realized it wasn’t alarm this time, but surprise. “Does the General know this?”
“Uh. Yeah?” He replied hesitantly. Then, more suspiciously, “Why?”
Clover blinked, then looked away, his stare calculating when he finally said, “Oh nothing, just something he said this morning makes a lot more sense now.”
Then, slowly, his ears came back down.
Relaxing. Qrow corrected. Suddenly, he could breathe again.
What happened next blindsighted him entirely.
“Well, don’t worry too much about it.” Clover shot him a grin and a wink . “Let’s just say, you’ve got a very lucky partner.”
So taken aback by the very obvious and sudden flirting, Qrow tripped on his own feet. He yelped as he plummeted head first towards the ice - only to be caught and pulled back up by strong hands. His heart was racing so fast, he was pretty sure his chest was about to implode.
“Whoa now, watch your step.” And Clover was laughing, the absolute bastard.
It wouldn’t be until the end of the mission that he would find out how literal the other man had been about the lucky part.
Somehow, Qrow couldn’t find it in him to even be that upset about it.