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“Yes, very good,” Clover said, as Arya’s foot landed and she leaned into the step, letting her momentum translate into pressure and tension. She pushed back, releasing the pressure, and tucked her arms in close as she pulled herself into a spin. As she turned, she whipped her head around, keeping her eyes on the image of herself in the mirror, and then put her foot out to catch herself as she pulled out of the turn. The momentum of the spin carried her slightly past her intended stopping point, however, and she stumbled.
“Hmm,” Clover said, tucking one sleeveless arm against his chest and stroking his chin thoughtfully with the other. “You know what, why don’t you try this--you’re doing a great job stabilizing your head, focusing on the mirror, but you’re still carrying a lot of forward momentum into that spin, and it’s knocking you off balance. Why don’t you try thinking about it like, rather than spinning around yourself, you’re spinning around a point on the floor?”
Panting, Arya turned to Clover, a look of confusion on her face. She tucked back an errant strand of hair that had fallen out of her hair band. “I...what? I’m not sure I understand,” she said, brow furrowed. “I’m pushing off from the previous step, so of course there’s momentum. How do I not carry that into the turn?”
“Here, why don’t I guide you through it slowly,” Clover said, walking over to stand behind her. He put his hands on her waist, his grip gentle yet firm. “Why don’t you start from the previous step, slowly, and I’ll show you where to direct the momentum.”
“Okay,” she said. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and slowly began again. Clover’s hands stayed at her waist as she leaned into the step, then rebounded with her as she pushed off. She began to pull into the turn, and Clover pressed back firmly, stopping her momentum.
“Like this,” he said softly, turning her body, redirecting the momentum and weight. He felt Arya respond to his guidance, and as her weight shifted, she began gently orbiting her center of gravity, rather than careening across the floor like a spinning top.
“See?” Clover asked. “Feel it in your core.”
“Yeah,” Arya replied, nodding. “I think I got it!”
“Great,” Clover said, stepping back and smiling. “Why don’t you give it a try without me.”
Arya took a deep breath as she prepared to launch once again into the first step, then stopped. The faint sounds of a piano’s bass notes floated over the air from the sound system.
“Do you hear that?” she asked, turning to Clover as a two-note riff began, a simple, clean major third.
“Oh no,” Clover muttered, rubbing his temples. “Not him. Not now.”
“Who?” Arya asked.
“ Him, ” Clover replied. He had worked so hard to move on, to get to where he was. It had been at least a week since he had let himself think about his former partner. The last thing he wanted was to do this now. He glanced over at Arya--she had a look of irritation on her face. Clover was the best dance coach in Atlas, and she was paying for these lessons--she was right to expect enough respect and professionalism to not be interrupted like this.
The door to the studio slammed open as the music built in a crescendo. A tall man stood in the doorway, eyes cast down at the floor. He had medium-length, feathery black hair that fell over his eyes, and he wore tight black jeans and a studded leather belt, along with a slate-grey waistcoat over a deep merlot collared shirt. And, inexplicably, a long, flowing burgundy cape was attached to the shoulders of his waistcoat. Despite the still air in the studio, it seemed to softly billow behind him.
“Qrow, please--” Clover began, then stopped as Qrow reached up to his shoulder, grabbed the cape, and flung it to the floor. His eyes snapped up to Clover, and he strode into the studio, his feet striking the floor in perfect sync with the beat of the music now flowing from the speakers.
Clover sighed, and gave Arya an apologetic look. He calmly walked over to meet Qrow, and stood square in front of him, hands on his hips. “Qrow, what do you want?” he demanded. “It’s been months .”
Qrow pointed at Clover and took a sharp step to one side. “I know I left,” he said. Clover smoothly stepped to match Qrow, raised a hand to Qrow’s finger, and, fingertips only gently brushing Qrow’s hand, moved it aside in a wide arc. He knew what Qrow was doing, and he wasn’t having it. He wouldn’t give in; he wouldn’t fall for it. Not again.
“You said you didn’t want a partner,” Clover replied, keeping his voice cold.
Qrow flipped his black hair up out of his eyes, and Clover felt a flutter in his stomach. He wasn’t ready for this--it was too soon; he couldn’t set aside his feelings just yet. “What if I,” Qrow began, taking a step toward Clover, who took a matching step backwards. “What if I couldn’t take this anymore?”
“You said it would break you,” Clover retorted, not breaking eye contact as Qrow stepped around him, their chests now only inches apart. Guitar riffs built in the music as they circled each other. Clover felt as if he were magnetically attracted to the other man, even as the pain of the last few months kept him from closing the distance.
“What if I wanted to break?” Qrow demanded.
“You said we would fight,” Clover said, pushing one hand toward Qrow’s shoulder. Qrow stepped back, rolling away from the hand, his own hand unfurling along Clover’s and gracefully turning with him as Clover’s momentum carried him past Qrow. They turned around an invisible axis between them, bound to each other with a palpable tension despite barely touching each other.
“What if I wanted to fight?” Qrow replied, pushing at Clover’s shoulders with both hands. Clover quickly ducked and as he fell to the floor, slid between Qrow’s legs. He rose quickly behind Qrow as Qrow spun on his heels.
Clover took several smooth steps away from Qrow. He needed the distance. He needed to keep his head. He glanced over at Arya--she was watching the two of them, slack-jawed. He felt a pang of guilt--this was wrong; this wasn’t professional. He would refund her of course, but that didn’t make up for this. But still...he had after all spent countless sleepless nights longing for just such a moment, hadn’t he?
“What would you do?” Qrow asked, opening his arms wide.
The hesitation inside him broke, and Clover extended a hand toward Qrow, palm up. “All I wanted was you,” he said, his voice breaking. He took a slow step toward Qrow, then another, as the drumset kicked in, full of high-hat and driving bass hits.
Clover tucked his arms in and spun toward Qrow once, and then twice. As he neared Qrow on his third spin, Qrow snapped into action, stepping behind Clover and catching him against his chest. They finished the turn together, Clover leaning back against Qrow’s shoulder. Qrow’s hand found Clover’s and they stretched their arms out together, fingertips brushing. Clover’s heart raced at the soft touch.
“I tried to run from you,” Qrow said, running his right hand up Clover’s vest, as they took several slow steps backwards together. “Was scared of the pain,” he murmured in Clover’s ear, as Clover let his eyes slide closed. Qrow took a quick step backwards and then leaned forward into Clover, turning him outward in a tight, twirling overhand turn.
“The fear I would hurt you--I thought it would bury me,” Qrow insisted as Clover snapped out of the turn, their arms taut as they extended fully. Both dancers launched toward the other, pulling on the tension between them.
“Bury you?” Clover asked, as they met in a close embrace. He didn’t understand. He thought he had made himself clear--no matter what, he had been prepared to be there for Qrow. How could Qrow feel buried, when Clover would have been there to dig him out? And if he hadn’t wanted to hurt Clover, why had he left? That had hurt more than anything else Qrow could have done. Clover’s right hand found Qrow’s left between their shoulders, while Qrow’s right hand pressed tight against Clover’s spine.
Their momentum carried them into a tight spin, their feet moving in perfect sync, as Clover’s right foot stepped between Qrow’s legs and Qrow’s right foot moved to mirror the motion. Clover felt himself melding into Qrow as the pressure of their embrace propelled them through the turn.
“I tried to be someone else,” Qrow said breathlessly, as they emerged from the turn and Clover lowered him in a dip. “Tried to run from it.” Clover pulled Qrow up and Qrow stepped past him, turning under Clover’s arm. He slid out of Clover’s grasp and took several large strides across the floor, in time to a series of driving chords. Despite himself, Clover felt his heart fall as his hand slipped away, and he gazed at Qrow helplessly.
“But nothing seemed to change,” Qrow continued, turning back to face Clover. He broke into a run, and leapt into the air as he approached Clover. Clover’s heart soared once more, and he caught him against his chest, with Qrow’s knees clasped to either side of Clover’s rib cage and his arms spread wide like wings. Qrow leaned back as Clover held his waist and spun them around their mutual center of gravity, elated both by the reconnection and his luck at successfully catching Qrow.
As the spin slowed, Qrow slid down Clover’s torso, until one foot reached the floor. He raised one hand to softly cup Clover’s face and locked eyes with him, their noses nearly touching. Clover breathed deeply, turning his face gently into Qrow’s hand.
“So what if I wanted to fight?” Qrow asked, his voice nearly a whisper. The music’s tempo shifted, and Clover instinctively burst into motion. He felt Qrow respond in kind, the mental connection between them as sharp as ever as they moved through a flurry of footwork, shifting arms, and grasping hands. The balance between the two men changed in an instant, and Qrow seemed to cartwheel off of thin air, rolling over Clover’s shoulder. Clover dropped low as Qrow landed, catching Qrow’s outstretched hand. He pulled on the tension, and leapt into the air, his free hand finding Qrow’s. They locked eyes, and as Qrow’s arms went taut, Clover felt his momentum transfer into Qrow’s firm stance. He gently placed his feet on Qrow’s chest, and pushed off of Qrow’s outstretched hands, launching himself backward into the air.
“What if I begged for the rest of my life?” Qrow called to Clover, as Clover gracefully somersaulted backwards through the air, landing softly on his feet. “You said you wanted more,” he implored, arms outstretched toward Clover.
“So what are you waiting for?” Clover asked, panting. He beckoned to Qrow--if Qrow wanted this, then he was here.
“I’m done running from you,” Qrow said, shaking his head as he broke into a quick run towards Clover. They met facing each other as the song launched into a heavy, pounding drum break. Qrow placed one hand on Clover’s shoulder as their feet moved rapidly to the music, tracing small patterns on the floor. First Qrow moved forward, to which Clover responded by giving ground, inviting Qrow into his space. He stepped to the side and then back to Qrow, returning and redirecting the pressure. Clover’s feet negotiated a question, and Qrow’s hips and shoulders responded, as their eyes searched each other’s faces.
Qrow was back--and for the first time in a long time, Clover felt lost in the electric chemistry of their dance. But it had been like this last time too, at first. Clover took a sharp step back from Qrow, both their right hands grasped together across the space between them.
“And what happens next time?” Clover asked. How did he know Qrow wouldn’t again grow distant? Qrow stepped past him, pivoting as he turned beneath Clover’s arm. Clover pulled back on Qrow’s outstretched arm and stepped in close, placing Qrow’s hand on his shoulder and dropping his own, reaching behind to grasp Qrow’s shoulder.
“Look in my eyes,” Clover said, training his teal eyes on Qrow’s as they swayed to the music. “What we did before? The way we danced around each other? It was killing me--killing me!”
Qrow broke their eye contact, a hurt look flashing across his face. He dropped his hands to Clover’s chest and gently pushed away, turning and stepping quickly across the floor. Clover kept pace with him, one outstretched hand resting gently on Qrow’s trailing hand, unwilling to lose him.
“All I wanted was you!” Clover insisted. “Not that, not the pain, the distance, the running!”
Qrow pulled away from Clover’s hand with several large strides, turned, and stood tall a few meters away. “I know now,” he said, gesturing to his chest in large, fluid hand motions, “who I am inside.” He strode purposefully toward Clover, taking large, slow steps. “I’m fighting for myself,” he continued. “Fighting for a chance.” He reached Clover and stood square in front of him, feet planted apart. “This,” he said, gesturing between them, “this is who I really am.”
Clover shook his head, pushing past Qrow. He couldn’t simply accept that. Qrow reached out to Clover as he passed, and Clover caught his hand and turned beneath it. “You put up walls,” Clover said, as Qrow pulled their arms taut. “You put up barriers,” he continued, as he spun back toward Qrow, wrapping himself into Qrow’s arm and leaning briefly against his chest behind him, before unraveling outwards and away from Qrow. “How do I know who you really are?” he demanded, as he came to a stop at the limit of their arms. “How do I know you’re not one big wall?”
Qrow dropped his arms, exasperated. “Then come break me down!” he replied. The two men strode back towards each other, meeting in a spin that began tight and then unfurled as their hands found each other and their momentum carried them apart.
“What if I wanted to break?” Qrow demanded, as they met once more and leaned into a kneeling dip. “Break me down!” he urged. Clover pushed Qrow upright with both hands, and turned Qrow around with an overhand turn, so that Qrow was tucked against Clover’s chest. Qrow leaned back, and turned his head to look at Clover.
“I’m done running from you,” Qrow said.
“All I wanted was you,” Clover repeated, his voice barely a whisper.
“Then you and me,” Qrow said as Clover spun him out. Their hands caught and they surged back together, meeting in the middle each with one arm around the other’s midriff. “I’ll fight for it,” he said as they circled each other. “Beg for it,” he continued. He grabbed Clover’s hand from his midriff and spun Clover out. “All I want now is you,” Qrow said, locking eyes with Clover as he came out of the turn.
They came back together again, turning tightly around each other once more, repeating the airtight, high-pressure turn from earlier, but this time Clover stepped heavily as they ended. Qrow used the sudden imbalance to roll past Clover’s shoulder and over his back, his legs tracing wide arcs in the air as Clover pushed up slightly to help Qrow roll past him. Clover leapt up as Qrow landed, trading pressure and gravity, letting himself trust in his partner. They wove around each other, turning through ever-more complicated turns and lifts as the music built to its climax.
“Look in my eyes,” Qrow said, as he lowered Clover into a dip.
“All I wanted was you,” Clover said breathlessly, meeting Qrow’s gaze.
“And all I want now is you,” Qrow responded, pulling Clover up and past him, throwing him into an open-ended turn with a flourish.
“You said you couldn’t do this anymore,” Clover objected feebly as he stopped himself and returned to Qrow. He was ready to believe Qrow--but losing him had hurt so much. He needed that reassurance, that this was real. He caught Qrow’s hand and lifted it over his head as Qrow began to turn. He quickly dropped Qrow’s hand and caught it with his other hand before Qrow could finish the turn, and as Qrow emerged to face him, pulled him across and past. For the first time in their dance, Qrow had a slight look of surprise in his eyes, as Clover immediately led him through yet another turn, this time in the opposite direction. Qrow’s expression quickly recovered with a small laugh, and with a quick shift of his hand he had pulled Clover in once more, wrapping him in a hug from behind.
“What if I said I would stay?” Qrow asked softly, as the music’s climax released into a languid coda. He slowly, gently, turned Clover around to face him, his hands dropping to Clover’s waist.
“What if I broke my own walls?” Qrow continued. “What if I fought for the rest of my life? Fought for myself?”
Clover raised his eyebrows as he breathed deeply, his cheeks flushed. Qrow had never said that before, and Clover knew how much work it must have taken to be able to say it now.
“What if I wanted you?” Qrow whispered.
Clover sighed. “Then I want you too,” he replied, his own voice no more than a whisper either. He leaned forward and kissed Qrow. Qrow pushed forward into the kiss, and as their arms wrapped about each other, Clover felt himself melt into his partner. He felt Qrow’s arms tighten around his waist and shoulders as he ran a hand up Qrow’s neck and grasped at his hair, and everything else fell away as the two men lost themselves in each other.
“What the fuck? ” Arya demanded.