#sorry its mostly Crosshairs introspection

[bitterfishiesstuff]

🎲 + Crosshair/Mayday please? (●'◡'●)

Oooooo, shiny ship *grabbed hands*. I hope you like this! (Spoilers for The Bad Batch season 3)

29. A kiss to the back of the hand (au where everything happens exactly the same. Except Mayday didn't really die. Echo finds him with the rest of the clones on Tantis.)

Crosshair had been a marksman most his life. That may not be a long time compared to most humans, but it was all he had to fall back on for that short time.

Losing his hand had brought clarity to the need to diversify his skill set, but he hadn't wanted to give up shooting. There was a peace to sniping that he craved. The planning, the wait for the perfect moment- anticipation, and the pride in a successful hit. He only found such satisfaction with one other.

He glanced up from cleaning his rifle to find the man who swept back into his life like a hurricane. Mayday was in his spot, an old chair salvaged from a ship and parked unceremoniously in Crosshair's work area. The fact Mayday had a regular spot still stole his breath some days.

He didn't deserve all the luck that had fallen in his lap. Omega insisting on saving him as well, the Bad Batch taking him back, and now Mayday. Yes there had been bad luck too. His hand had been a loss, but not as great as Tech...

He looked back to the rifle, fine tuning it to adjust to him. The repetition could have been a black spot, a chance for his mind to spiral and focus on the bad even as the sun shown brightly through the window. But it isn't. Instead he finds the peace he'd earned on Tantis.

Only for a few minutes, though. The chair across from his worktable creaks and a shadow moved around to shift beside him. Crosshair points to the spanner across the table, new metal prosthesis catching the evening hues as night settles around them.

Mayday grabs the spanner and places it next to the rifle. As Crosshair murmurs an irritated thanks, he intercepts the hand moving to pick it up. Warm, living flesh kisses the back of the cold metal just as lovingly as if it was real human skin.

"You're welcome."