When he pulled away, had he expected her to stay away? Well, of fucking course he had. This was Providence of all people - Providence the two-pound Freelancer who excelled in kicking alien ass and could easily double as an evil librarian with an icy glare - and God knew she was anything but easy. Hell, he expected to get the shit beat out of him more than anything else, though he couldn’t exactly say it wouldn’t have been worth it, because that would be a goddamn lie. Kissing Providence and not getting irrevocably mauled would be like getting in a two-by-four cage with an Elite and escaping with your life.
Well, the Elite would have to be highly attractive and possessing of an exquisite figure, of course, but that was beside the point. Because he was here and this was now, and now happened to be when suddenly Providence’s lips touched against his for the second time, but this was different. It wasn’t a hesitant brush, like the first, but one that was intent and warm as they pushed the door open into the privacy of Providence’s room. Fingers tangled in her mass of red hair, Phoenix nudged the door closed with his foot, wondering briefly if this was real. It wasn’t as if it hadn’t happened in dreams before, after all.
It was certainly a surprise; it wasn’t as if he’d not always found the other Freelancer attractive, because that sure as hell wasn’t true, but rather they’d always hated each other. No, hate wasn’t the right way to describe it. That made it sound like they had some hot, hate-filled sexy relationship, and God knew that wasn’t right either, despite what amount of entertainment it might bring to consider that. Yet it was undeniable that there had always been a sort of inexplicable tension between them, most likely from the constant and mutual loathing. Such as when he’d put her in that lock while she was training, just go get a reaction - and then a few seconds later he’d ended up with arms twisted high behind him and her bent over him, knee planted firmly in the center of his back.
That had been a shitty lock, and - to himself, he’d admit it, he supposed - he’d wanted to see what would happen. He’d wanted to be close to someone, and at that point was on friendly speaking terms with no one on the ship. He’d still been on Gamma for kicking Austin’s ass, and he and Juneau were having their usual… disagreements. Pissing fights. Frustrated shouting matches. With both of his friends gone, he and Prov had still been on that same level. They were still enemies. He could always count on her for that.
Wincing at the thought of June, he quickly drove himself back into his half-drunken, foggy haze, pulling away from Providence slightly to smirk and mumble, “Well, dear, it seems like hell is finally freezing over.” His hands slid under her shirt, slipping along her hips and trailing upwards. Actually, he wasn’t sure what exactly was even fucking happening, which was unusual, seeing as he usually put himself in positions with people where he made them look like idiots. This, of course, was a bit more than a little different.
Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
