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Boothill feels like he’s bringing home a virgin bride on her wedding night, not a 30-something year old man with a past as dotted with sexual encounters as Boothill’s is bullet holes.
As they approach the threshold of his door, Boothill scoops Argenti up bridal style. Argenti is at first startled, and then amused.
“A princess carry? Is that how you view me?”
“Sure, I can call you Princess if you want.”
Argenti blushes.
Yeah, yep. Pocketing that one.
Once inside, a bit of steam is lost. Argenti is happy to get back to kissing, but Boothill can feel the tension in his body when his hand drifts downward.
“Wait, um,” Argenti stammers. He reflexively grabs Boothill’s wrist, an action that has happened enough times for Boothill to know exactly what it means.
Hold your horses.
Boothill’s hand rises and cups his cheek. “Whoops, my bad. Kissing still fine?”
“I’m sorry,” Argenti murmurs. “I don’t mean to ruin the fun.”
“You ain’t ruined nothing, don’t worry about it.”
“I brought you to my bedroom with very clear intentions, and now I’m faltering. I don’t want you to think less of me for my… cowardice.”
Yeesh, that’s a sharp hit to the chest. He could never feel negatively about Argenti, certainly not over something as trivial as carnal pleasures, or a lack thereof. More importantly, Argenti trusts him. Completely. There’s nothing in this universe that could compel him to injure that trust. Boothill wraps his arms around Argenti’s shoulders and pulls him close to his chest.
“Sugar, if I only got to look at your face every once in a while I’d be tickled. I’m here ‘cause I wanna spend as much time with you as you’ll let me, I don’t care if we just sit around and play Majong.”
Argenti releases a breath, his whole body releasing tension in Boothill’s embrace. “Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for. Now, I personally don’t keep any tiles on me, you got a set?”
Laughing, Argenti takes Boothil’s hand. He rubs his warm fingers over the cool metal and sighs like he’s relieved. “No, I… I definitely want to keep going. I just don’t know how far I’ll be able to go.”
“Lead the way, and I’ll be with you in lockstep.”
Argenti leads him to the bed. He crawls to the center and lies his head on one of his pillows, his outstretched arms inviting Boothill to join.
They rest in each other’s hold, and that’s near about better than sex. Most of their encounters have been just like the one only minutes ago, crammed up in some space that they’re pretty sure nobody’ll walk in so that they can steal some kisses. This is the first time they’ve ever had the luxury of a bed, and an abundance of time. Boothill is near giddy to be able to spend as long as he likes just laying here wound up in red hair and long legs.
But it seems as though today simply cannot stop getting better, and beginning with a tender peck from Argenti, they sink into a slow, gentle rhythm. It’s only different than every other time before because they’ve never kissed with Argenti half draped over his chest. Otherwise it is the same, delicious dance as usual. Kiss, kiss, a caress to the cheek. Kiss, kiss, a caress to the neck. Comfortable, predictable, something that he could do forever as long as he can keep his own wandering hands in check.
Kiss, kiss, a caress to— oh, wait. Not a caress. Argenti rests his hand on Boothill’s chest and, jeez, Boothill might short circuit at the sight of Argenti swinging a leg over him to straddle his hips. It must show plain on his face with the way Argenti flushes pink.
“Is this too forward?”
“Nope.”
“And this?”
Boothill groans quietly when Argenti slowly, slowly peels off his shirt. He can’t help but ogle, it’d be a crime not to stare at that perfect skin. The hair on Argenti’s chest is well kept and neat, narrowing to a pleasant trail that leads from his sternum to his belt buckle. He swallows down the crass compliment he would like to give, and forces his eyes back to Argenti’s instead.
“Gorgeous,” Boothill says, and he hums appreciatively when Argenti dives down to continue kissing him.
Maybe he isn’t so predictable after all, and Boothill could definitely become comfortable with this. Argenti unzips Boothill’s jacket and helps him out of it, leaving them both exposed from the belt up.
“Touch me?”
“Where at?”
“Above the belt… please. Um. Like before.” Argenti urges Boothill’s hand to his chest, his fingers over his nipple.
Heaven help him, he’s going to overheat.
With as much restraint as he can spare, Boothill pets the sensitive skin with only enough pressure to hear one of those sweet sighs from Argenti.
“Yes, yes… your other hand, too?”
“Anything you want, Doll.”
As soon as both of Boothill’s hands set to work caressing his nipples, Argenti’s hips stutter. Two, three, four times. He huffs, a quiet admission of pleasure, because it clearly feels good, but he forces himself still again.
“Forgive me,” Argenti says.
“For what?”
“For being lewd. Or for stopping. I don’t… I don’t know.”
Boothill chuckles warmly. “You get any sweeter and you’ll rot my teeth. You’re forgiven, c’mere.”
They continue kissing, or what is close enough to be categorized as kissing. Argenti pants quietly against Boothill’s smirking lips as smooth metal teases and pinches and strokes his nipples until his whole body shakes. Little by little, his body forces his morals to relent to the fact that rutting into Boothill’s crotch plate feels a helluva lot better than holding stock still and having his chest played with.
It’s possible that Boothill is bias, but he thinks Argenti might just be the prettiest thing to ever exist, and easily the prettiest he’s ever seen. Argenti gave up on pretending to maintain a kiss as soon as he started thrusting in earnest, instead tucking his chin to hide the shame over his face. He makes soft, hesitant noises, like each hitch of his hips is the best thing he’s ever experienced and he ought to feel bad about it.
“Boothill, oh…”
And then there’s that fire in his veins every time Argenti says his name like that, like the very word makes him feel good. Boothill swallows hard. Keep it together, Ranger.
Argenti stops abruptly, his limit on the horizon. He places his own hand over his naval and groans, soft.
“Hey, you alright?” Boothill drops his hands from Argenti’s chest.
“Yes. Starting and stopping like that, I start to get sore after a while.”
“Oh, ‘Genti. Don’t keep working yourself up on my behalf, hear me?”
“No, this is… entirely for my benefit.” Argenti takes a slow breath. “I just need a moment to regain myself.”
“Take all the time you need.”
All the better. With Argenti sitting upright, eyes closed and lips pursed, Boothill doesn’t have to feel like so much of a pig staring at his body. He finds his eyes drawn to the trail of hair that grows thicker as it approaches the waistline of his pants. The curtains match the drapes and he wishes he could have his face shoved against the window again.
Gosh. Maybe he is a pig. Oink.
Argenti sighs, apparently in control again, and smiles sheepishly when Boothill tears his eyes away from his pubes to meet his gaze. “May I ask you a personal question?”
“Shoot.”
“What does it feel like for you to be aroused?”
“Uh. Feels good?”
“I mean,” Argenti murmurs. “Inside, physically. For me, it feels hot right here.” He moves the hand placed on his stomach in a small circle. “And it spreads lower, to my… you know.”
Oh, how Boothill wishes he were able to say “cock” out loud just to see how flustered it’d make Argenti. He doesn’t even wanna know what goofy mess his synesthesia beacon would replace it with.
“I’m curious if arousal feels different, given your anatomy.”
“I get you now. Yeah, it feels different. In my real body it felt the same as it does for you, all of it focused downstairs. Now it’s mostly a mental thing, makes it tough to act right sometimes.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, if I get too worked up too quick, I get all grabby and start runnin’ my mouth, and before I know it I’ve gone and made you uncomfortable. When it gets to that point I usually gotta step away and take care of it.”
“Take care of it… here?” Argenti moves his hand from his stomach to Boothill’s chest.
“Mm-hm. But me having to run to the little robot’s room and rub one out before I can act like a normal person again ruins the mood 100% of the time, so I’ve been working on getting a handle on it.”
“I had no idea that’s what you were doing all those times—“ Argenti stammers. His voice turns from embarrassed to amused. “You do that in public restrooms?”
Boothill shrugs. “It’s quick, not like it makes a mess or anything. Nobody’s any wiser.”
“Dear, you fainted only moments ago when you reached orgasm. Nobody notices that?”
“Well, normally, all that happens is a little electrical zap and I’m good to go. That you did with your tongue though, that’s as close to the stomach burnin’ pleasure you get from a real orgasm I’ve felt in years. My poor nervous system needed a reset after something so good.” Boothill smiles at the bashful look on Argenti’s face. “I bet you got a lot of compliments on that skill.”
“You’re not so bad with your mouth yourself…”
“Bout’ all I got to offer you, gotta make up for what I’m missing… Anyway, long as I don’t let myself get so wound up I can’t think straight, it does eventually spark something warm and fuzzy down there where you’re sittin’, but nothing like before.”
Argenti glances at their connected hips. “Were you able to feel it when I was moving?”
“Psychologically, heck yes. Physically, not really. Everything synthetic on the outside feels muted at best, like nothing at worst. Most I feel other’n my hands and face is under the panel like I showed you.”
“If you wouldn’t think me rude for asking… Why did you remove your genitalia?”
“Honestly, ‘cause I thought my brain’d stop making them hormones if I didn’t have the required parts. Short sighted on my end.”
“You wanted to terminate your desire? You seem to quite enjoy… rolling in the hay, as you put it. Why take that from yourself?”
“Eh. More important stuff to take care of than my libido. Besides, once I started adding metal, I didn’t think I’d find anyone that wanted me like that. Not like I got around a ton in my real body, who’s gonna jump at a bucket o’ bolts like this?”
Argenti swipes his thumb over the seam of Boothill’s chest panel. “I know at least one person.”
“Yeah, like I said, short-sighted,” Boothill says softly. “If I had it to do over again, knowing that I’d meet you, I’d’ve kept a couple extra parts around for ya.”
“You already have all of the parts I require.”
Boothill nods, but he knows that while Argenti speaks from his heart, his body will notice the absence of a few important pieces. A quick blowie might be great after years of nothing, but after that edge is taken off, he’s probably going to want something more… substantial. Whether it’s giving or taking, Boothill doesn’t have anything to offer outside of his mouth and hands.
“Right, yeah, but if I still had my real body—“
“Dearest,“ Argenti says firmly. “This is your real body.”
“Heh. That right?”
“It’s the only body I’ve ever known you in, and I am quite fond of it.” Argenti stops speaking abruptly. He continues, quieter. “Forgive me, that’s… My feelings about your body don’t determine yours.”
That’s where he’s wrong. Boothill places his hand over Argenti’s. “If you like it, I love it.”
Argenti pauses for a long minute, swirling his thumb slowly. Finally he asks, “So, really, you chose a life of chastity just like I have?“
“I reckon you could think of it that way.”
“You chose that path because of your values, the same as I. You have made a valiant choice, to give up something so integral to the human experience, in order to fulfill your duty.”
“Where you going with this?”
“I mean to say that you needn’t feel like I am missing anything. From you. I admire you for who you are, for the person you strive to be. You could lack all of your extremities and I would only cherish what remained more to compensate.”
Boothill clears his throat, which is real tight, suddenly. “You really are sweet, you know that?”
“I am merely honest.” Argenti kisses his cheek.
“You like my body, then? For what I’ve got and what I don’t?”
“Very… very much, yes.”
“Then consider it yours, Princess.”
Argenti stammers, almost as scandalized as if he had to show off a collarbone in public.
Aeons, he’s so cute.
When he recovers, Argenti says quietly, “Now, on chastity. It seems we have found a work-around for you, and a point of weakness for me. I wonder, seeing as it is only you and I, if it would be acceptable to… continue. A while longer. Surely, this could not be seen as something unworthy of Idrila’s approval.”
Guilt that his passion is overriding his convictions drips from Argenti’s voice. Boothill kisses him. “I think you’re on to something. After all, what’s more beautiful than two people in love, makin’ love?”
“In love,” Argenti echoes. He grins. “In love. Making love. Yes, that does sound beautiful.”
“That mean you’ll stop apologizing every time you feel good?”
“That’s going to be a difficult habit to break, apologies. Er, I mean—“
Boothill laughs. “You’re alright, apologize all you need to.” He refrains from telling Argenti that he is beautiful enough all on his own to make up for any discrepancies in his behavior. It’s true, but that’d be laying it on a little thick, even for Argenti.
“Well, then, with all of that out of the way.” Argenti rolls onto his back and sheepishly opens his legs as an invitation. “I hand the reins over to you.”
“You’re sure?”
“Certain.”
Boothill swallows the desire to ravish Argenti now that he has permission. No. Argenti might not actually be a blushing virgin, but that isn’t a good enough reason to bowl through all previous boundaries just ‘cause he can. He starts somewhere familiar; leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Argenti’s lips. He may hold the reins, but any good rider knows that you respect the limits of your mount.
When he’s sure that Argenti is relaxed and ready to continue, Boothill slots between his legs. He takes the opportunity to look down at him, face flushed. His fly is still open and Boothill teases his fingers over the teeth of the zipper. He can feel the heat of Argenti’s erection just beneath— no. Instead he raises his sights a few inches higher, to that patch of hair that rises from his pants.
Oink. Oink.
Boothill kisses his way to his destination, slow, meticulous. He peppers Argenti’s collarbones with pecks before he dips lower to do the same to his nipples. Argenti squirms and sighs, and Boothill is tempted to hold here and continue until he unravels fully, but his mind will not let him rest until his nose is buried in Argenti’s pubes.
He is careful to cover all of the skin from his collarbones to his hip bones as to not seem too eager. By the time he finally does make it there, Argenti is making, just, decadent sounds. He writhes as if he is about to come out of his own skin, and he hasn’t even got his cock out yet. Finally, finally, Boothill plants his lips just above Argenti’s belt buckle. He breathes in, enjoying the heavy smell of body wash and sweat, and moans on the exhale.
“Boothill.”
“Mm?” Boothill looks up and sees Argenti staring him down, his green eyes near flaming.
“Please,” Argenti says, voice shaking with need. “Please.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you in two shakes, same way I did before. I’m just savoring you while I’ve got you is all.”
“The same way as before?”
“If that’s fine with you, yeah.”
“Yes. Um. Would it be alright if I…” Argenti gestures vaguely, and it takes Boothill a second to understand what he’s trying to ask.
Boothill smirks. “Go on, say it.”
“Finish—“
“Nah, come on, say what you mean.”
“… Cum. May I cum in your mouth again?”
Ugh, yes. Boothill finally unbuckles Argenti’s belt. “Be my guest.”
He takes Argenti’s pants off as slowly as he can manage, considering he’s a hair’s breadth away from just cutting the things off to see what’s beneath. Each new inch of smooth, milky skin that he reveals is more gorgeous than the last, and he is careful to kiss each one as he goes. All that’s left now are his underwear, wet with precum and barely containing his erection.
Boothill, patient as he tries to be, still has his limits. It turns out one of those limits is seeing Argenti splayed out across his bed, hard and leaking into a pair of black boxer briefs. Boothill yanks the fabric off of Argenti’s body and tosses it aside, taking an appreciative look at his cock before he gets to work. Full, flushed pink, cut. Boothill grabs Argenti beneath one of his knees and tosses his leg over his shoulder to make it easier to lathe his tongue over his rim.
Argenti makes a sharp noise of shock followed by a shaking sigh of pleasure. He squirms, stuck somewhere between letting himself feel good and being self-conscious because he does. “You don’t have to—“
“Sugar, I’ve wanted to eat you up all night. I didn’t think I’d get lucky enough to actually do it.” He licks Argenti’s hole again and hums in approval when his thighs relax and tremble in Boothill’s hold. “Atta boy, lemme take care of you.”
Keeping in mind that Argenti probably can’t handle a whole lot more build up before he needs to let that pressure out, Boothill laps at the hot flesh for as long as he feels is considerate.
Okay. Maybe a few minutes longer. Argenti is gasping for breath and about to hit the roof by the time Boothill finally decides to move forward with pressing a finger against his hole. For all of the drawbacks this body has, one of the perks is that his saliva is slick enough to pass for lube and body safe. Probably. Surely it is? It’s in his mouth, it’s gotta be safe. Anyway, Argenti isn’t complaining, his whole being shivering when Boothill’s finger is fully seated.
Argenti’s swollen cock leaks a small puddle of precum onto his lower stomach and bobs minutely with each shallow breath he takes. Boothill really, really wants to lick it up, but paces himself and oozes more of the slick fluid from his mouth onto his fingers before adding a second along with the first. Argenti trembles hard.
“S’at hurt?” Boothill asks.
“Not at all, oh, Dearest, please.”
“I hear you, just a couple more minutes, can you do that for me?”
“Yes… yes.”
All those years of restraint seem to be paying off here, holding himself on the knife’s edge of how aroused he can be without dissolving into a fit of babbling and pleading. He can feel the way his muscles try to clamp down, but are willed to relax. Even as that self control continues to slip away, he still does his very best to keep himself contained.
He deserves a reward.
Boothill curls his fingers into the spongy flesh of Argenti’s prostate. The stunned cry that Argenti gives him in response is like music to his ears, his new favorite song. He wants to hear it over, and over, and over again.
One flex of his fingers after another draws more sounds forth, with rising volume and urgency. One of the perks of robotic hands is that they do not fatigue the way muscles would, and Boothill is able to keep going until Argenti is spluttering and desperately kicking his hips.
“Please, dearest, I need— I need you to—!” Argenti’s plea is cut short by a throaty cry caused by Boothill licking a stripe from the base of his cock to the glans.
“I got you, I got you.”
Argenti loses the ability to speak coherently when Boothill takes his cock into his mouth and continues pumping his fingers. Boothill is, to put it lightly, completely enamored by the sounds that Argenti makes. Argenti doesn’t raise his voice unless it is to sing the praises of Idrila, and even then he doesn’t get as loud as he’s being right now. He can tell Argenti is close by the way his hips snatch rhythmically, his body clawing its way to relief no matter how uncouth he looks while doing it.
As much as Boothill adores the loud weeps of pleasure, he is equally enraptured when all of Argenti’s sounds suddenly fall silent. His hands grasp at Boothill’s shoulder, his hair, squeezing tight right along with the rest of him.
“Oh—!”
His hips jerk, a gush of cum letting Boothill know that he has truly surpassed his limit.
“—Shit!”
It’s barely audible, but Boothill clocks it, and he feels his entire being erupt with heat while Argenti’s cock erupts in his mouth. Boothill is too aroused to be smug, he immediately leans over Argenti’s body to smash their lips together.
Between kisses Argenti pants, “Goodness, forgive me.”
“You’re forgiven, do it again.”
“I can’t go again that fast,” Argenti says through a chuckle.
“Nah, what you said, say it again. One more time, for me.”
“Oh…” Argenti repeats, softly, “Shit.”
Boothill groans low in his throat.
“What about me being vulgar is arousing you?”
“Dunno, something about you getting so worked up you lose yourself like that, it’s got me about to burn up.” Boothill swallows hard, doing his best to recenter himself.
“Yes,” Argenti says, a smile spreading over his face. “I think I understand what you mean.” He hisses when Boothill presses into that spot again. “Too much too soon, I need a breather. May I?” He touches Boothill’s left peck.
“Yes sir, you may.” He is surprised when Argenti easily flips them. Argenti is strong, of course, but Boothill is damn heavy. He doesn’t question it any further when that warm tongue laps at his interface.
Oh. Boothill is further along in his own arousal than he realized, his vision going fuzzy and the warm, sweet feel of chemicals in his veins starting up almost instantly. Argenti barely has time to raise his fingers to the panel and stroke before Boothill seizes up and shouts, his voice crackling with electricity and desire.
He comes to a few seconds later, Argenti draped over top of him and pressing lazy kisses against his neck. He huffs, steam whooshing between his teeth.
“Are you back, Lover?”
“Back and better than ever.”
Argenti taps his fingers against Boothill’s chest, slow, tentative. “Do you have anywhere you need to be before the morning?”
Boothill wishes that he could tell him that if they’re together, he never has anywhere else he needs to be. But that’s not true, and they both know it. He hums. “I have a couple hours before I gotta split.”
“I can manage with that.”
While Boothill would much rather lie in post-coital bliss with Argenti until duty rips them apart, he simply cannot deny any of Argenti’s whims that he is capable of fulfilling. So when Argenti stands beside the bed and holds out his hand for Boothill to take, he does, and allows him to lead the way into the large bathroom adjacent his bedroom.
“Oh— Is it harmful for you to be submerged in water? Did it require any special precautions when you entered The Dream?”
“Nope, I’m good to go.”
“Wonderful.”
If kissing, cuddling, and making love to Argenti weren’t enough to make Boothill feel like he’d never actually woke up from The Dream, sinking shoulder-deep in steaming water with Argenti spread over his lap would have been what convinced him. Fortunately for him, this is real, and he just so happens to be the luckiest cyborg alive.
“How long? Until you have to leave?”
“An hour and forty-five minutes. Fifty, if I rush. So yeah, an hour and fifty minutes.”
Argenti lies his head atop Boothill’s shoulder and sighs, heavy and slow. His fingers trace barely-felt patterns against Boothill’s back, and he mirrors the gesture on his sweet, warm skin.
“Thank you,” Argenti says.
“For what?”
“Everything.” He kisses Boothill’s neck, allowing the contact to linger as he repeats, “Everything.”
“Right back at ‘cha.” Boothill squeezes Argenti into a tight hug. Nothing, nothing is going to make him let him go until he absolutely has to leave.
Argenti opens and closes his mouth a few times against Boothill’s neck before he finally speaks. “I promise I’m not a deviant, I am just… captivated by you this evening.”
“You know I don’t mind.”
“Then, you won’t mind me asking for just… one more round. If you have it in you.”
Boothill lets him go, grinning up at him with fresh desire in his eyes. “I got as many rounds in me as you want, Princess.”
“Then give me one more… and maybe another after that, Prince.”