Sharp Edges: Crosshair x Reader [NSFW]

Shots Fired, Part 2

You must have both been exhausted, drifting off to sleep despite it being morning. It looked like early afternoon outside when you roused, thrilled to roll over and see Crosshair's shoulder poking out of the comforter as he lay on his side facing the other way. The gentle rise and fall of his breathing was soothing, and you were torn between reaching out to touch him or letting him sleep. You realized suddenly that he was the first person you'd let into your bedroom, and you hadn't even thought about it earlier. It seemed completely natural, his silver hair shining against the dark blue pillows, and you searched inside for any of those alarm bells that usually went off when lines were being crossed, finding there were none.

You expected it to be some huge revelation, some milestone of your life with huge significance, but instead you felt tranquil. Satisfied. Content. Your heart swelling in your chest, you couldn't resist the urge to snuggle up behind him, tracing your fingers along the scars and shapes of his back, kissing your way from his shoulder to his neck. His deep breathing grew quiet, giving way to a long, deep yawn as he shuffled onto his back, pushing the sheets down to his waist and stretching an arm out toward you. Your head found its perfect nest in the curve where his shoulder met his chest, your hand gliding across, feeling soothed by the radiating heat. You let it rest in the center, palm against his sternum, listening to and feeling his steady heartbeat.

"I'm glad you're still here," you murmured, fingers idly moving back and forth.

"We're on world for a few days," he said, voice crackly from sleep and husky in a way that made you consider trying to rile him up again. "And we have an appointment later."

"An appointment?" you asked, lifting your head to look at his face. Maker, the soft fuzziness of his sleepy features was so endearing, you automatically leaned in for a feather-light kiss to his cheek. It felt foreign, this sense of comfort and adoration, not needing to keep up the bulletproof exterior you were so good at maintaining.

"Mmm," he hummed, turning to nuzzle the side of your head. "Shooting lessons."

"Oh gosh," you laughed, turning away to avoid blasting him with your sleep breath. "Are they from you, at least?"

"We'll see..."

* * *

A few hours, a delicious brunch, one athletic outfit, and a dizzying speeder ride later, you found yourself in a deserted part of some kind of shipyard that had long since been forgotten. Dust filtered through the beams of light that streamed through broken transparisteel panels inside a massive warehouse that seemed to go on forever. You noticed makeshift targets scattered across the various discarded items, all punctured repeatedly in the center. You could only guess who'd been responsible.

"This isn't shady at all," you teased, as Crosshair took off his backpack, laying it on a dusty table next to his rifle. He rummaged for a moment, producing a small hand blaster and some protective earmuffs for you, as well as some safety goggles. "Aw man," you groaned sarcastically, "I don't get a cool helmet or anything?"

He tilted his head toward you, body language clear despite being fully covered in his armor. You pulled the goggles over your head, securing the straps, then nestled the earmuffs over them, fitting them snugly against your ears. Crosshair took off his helmet, setting it on the table and looking at you with an unmistakable fondness in his eyes. The sudden intensity of his gaze made you blush unexpectedly, and you peered at him through the plastic lenses.

"What?" you prodded sheepishly.

"You just... You look really cute," he admitted, his ears turning red now too. "And you remind me of my brother." It was an odd comparison, you thought, but decided to take the compliment without any sass. Your heart was warmed at his clear affection for his family, and you felt a sudden sense of yearning as well. Did he feel about you that way? More than just protectiveness? "Okay," he continued, interrupting your thoughts, "Come stand here."