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“Those fudgeheads… I swear when I get m’hands on them,” Boothill growls. His eyes feel heavy and he’s hot all over. He barely has the forethought to send a text off to Argenti before his systems start following emergency protocols, shutting down whatever it deems unnecessary for basic functioning.
Boothill’s legs are heavy as he drags himself to his personal quarters, and it takes more than he expects out of him to locate and plug himself into his charger. He slumps to the floor and lets his eyes fall shut from exhaustion, unable to wait for a response from Argenti.
-
When he forces his eyes open later, he’s greeted by the sight of red hair and worried green eyes. Boothill groans and turns his head away, distantly aware that he’s no longer on the floor. Argenti must have moved him to the small bed at some point. He still feels hot, and his eyes are having trouble focusing but he pushes through it and sits up. A firm hand pushes against his chest, keeping him down. “Do not try to get up, dearest.”
Boothill does not pout, but he does frown down at the hand holding him in place. His eyes widen slightly when he takes stock of himself. He’s not wearing his pants, but he’s thankfully too out of his mind to be embarrassed - not that he’s got anything down there to be ashamed of anyhow. He’s missing his jacket and poncho, too. He lets his gaze slide to the side and feels relief when he sees his gun resting next to him on the bed. He reaches a hand up to his head, feels around for a hat that isn’t there at the moment.
It takes a lot more effort than he’d admit but he drags his eyes back up to Argenti’s face and grumbles. “‘m fine now, just needed a little rest. Y’don’t have to watch over me.”
Argenti tilts his head and a puzzled look takes over his face. “My love, you said you were sick. I do believe I need to watch over you.”
Boothill rolls his eyes - or, does his best to do so. “I was just bein’ dramatic. I don’t get sick; ‘m a cyborg, remember?” He doesn’t fight to sit up again, however.
Argenti scans his face worriedly, and then he’s tugging one of his gloves off with his teeth and pressing the back of his hand delicately to Boothill’s forehead. He frowns lightly at how warm Boothill feels, and Boothill feels his already-overworked internal fans kick it up even higher at the touch. Argenti lets his hand fall and looks around the room in search of something. Boothill watches Argenti’s bare hand pull away and misses the cool feeling of skin against his own immediately.
“Beloved, you’re burning up. Do you have any coolant on board or shall I stop somewhere for some?”
Despite the warm haze that’s making it hard to gather his thoughts, Boothill shuts his eyes and tries to think, does his best to remember where the coolant is and if he has any left. He tells Argenti where to look, and when the knight leaves him alone momentarily, Boothill feels a phantom pain in his chest. The pain goes away when Argenti returns, bottle of coolant in hand.
“There isn’t much left, so we may have to make a quick stop soon for more.” Boothill nods slowly as he processes what Argenti is saying, and then he’s leaning over for Argenti to access the panel that covers the coolant tank. When the bottle is emptied, Argenti replaces the cap and closes up the panel, righting Boothill once more. They both wait and listen for his fans to quiet down, and then Argenti swipes the back of his hand against Boothill’s forehead once more. He purses his lips but seems mostly satisfied.
“You’re a bit less warm, but we’ll have to keep monitoring it.”
Boothill has already tuned out whatever Argenti is saying to him, simply nods and stares at the beautiful red angel taking care of him. He grips weakly at Argenti’s arm when the knight makes to get up again, and he’s only mollified when Argenti reassures him that he will return shortly. Left to his own devices again, Boothill takes stock of his internal systems. He runs a scan that comes back with a vaguely threatening WARNING: INVASIVE DATA DETECTED flashing in red on his HUD. He checks his processors and sees that his own systems are already hunting down the virus and deleting what it can.
He settles back into the pillow he’s propped against and waits, lets his eyes fall shut again. They flutter open when the bed dips with Argenti’s weight once more, and then there’s a wet cloth being pressed to his forehead and then his cheeks. It’s cold, and it feels nice. He lets Argenti fret over him, thinks it’ll be easier for both of them if he doesn’t fight it. When he’s able to think at all, he decides it’s actually kind of nice having someone care for him, especially someone who knows him like Argenti.
Boothill dozes off for a while like that, the soft touch of Argenti sweeping the wet cloth over his face in slow circles lulling him into rest. As he flits in and out of consciousness, he hears Argenti murmuring softly, too quiet for Boothill to hear what’s being said, but loud enough that the timbre of Argenti’s voice grounds him, keeps him present.
When he comes to next, Argenti is holding a bottle of water to his lips, urging him to drink. Boothill does, until Argenti takes the water away and wipes the stray drops off Boothill’s lips with his thumb. Boothill flicks his tongue out to meet him, tastes Argenti’s skin, and hums, pleased. Argenti doesn’t chastise him, instead he smiles fondly and sweeps Boothill’s hair back off his forehead.
“Are you awake enough to tell me what happened, dear cowboy?”
Boothill sluggishly reaches up and captures Argenti’s hand in his own, pulling it down and hugging it to his chest. He racks his brain for a moment, pieces together the last few system hours before he returned to his ship.
“Was fightin’ some IPC lowlifes ‘n I think one of ‘em slipped a drive into my side port. Felt fine ‘til I got back to the ship ‘n then it all started gettin’ a little fuzzy.” He shakes his head a little to clear it. “Dunno what it does specifically but it’s got me overheating for sure.”
Argenti frowns. “You have a connector to run diagnostics on yourself, do you not?”
Boothill blinks at him once, twice. He licks his lips and gestures lazily at a desk in the corner. “Somewhere in those drawers, yeah.”
Argenti nods and then he’s pulling his hand free from Boothill’s grasp and heading towards the desk. He digs diligently through each drawer, holding up cords and drives for Boothill to examine. Finally he finds what he needs, and he returns to Boothill’s side.
“My love, can you stand? I’ll need to get you closer to the computer to connect.”
Boothill leans forward and extends a leg off the bed, pressing his weight onto his foot gently before he swings his other leg forward. Something between his brain’s hold on his motor functions and his leg stalls, and instead of landing on the other foot, he tips forward heavily. Argenti is quick, though, and catches him around the middle, pulling Boothill up and holding him so he’s leaning against Argenti’s side. He walks them carefully to the desk, helping Boothill settle in the chair there.
Argenti turns the computer on and then his fingers are slipping down Boothill’s side, fingertips finding the two USB ports at his hip. Skillfully, he twists the connector between his fingers and slides it into the bottom socket, rubbing Boothill’s back soothingly when he shivers slightly as the USB connects. Argenti follows the prompts on the screen and runs the command for a diagnostics scan. Immediately the screen starts running the scan, checking each of Boothill’s internal systems. There are an alarming number of red read-outs as things are checked - his coolant is low, his internal temperature is high and causing his fans to work overtime. Argenti frowns at the warning of invasive data, begins to form a question, but Boothill waves him off.
“‘s fine - was a lot higher earlier. Got an anti-virus goin’ after it already, just give it some time to finish sniffin’ it out.”
Argenti’s brow remains furrowed but he trusts Boothill wouldn’t lie. “What do we do in the meantime, then?”
Boothill shrugs half-heartedly. “Ain’t much to do but wait for it to run its course. I got a bounty I need to finish though - should be easy enough even with my systems the way they are.” He makes to tug the connector out and stand up, but Argenti stops him yet again.
“My dear, I am certain you aren’t trying to suggest completing a bounty when you can barely function.” It isn’t a question - Argenti’s voice is low and firm, leaving no room for disagreement. Boothill tries anyway.
“‘Genti, I’m a grown man - I got shirt to take care of ‘n can’t be layin’ around all day just ‘cause of some forkin’ poor attempt to take me down!”
Argenti says nothing, only levels him with an intense, unamused gaze. “Boothill,” he says, and his voice is chilling now, “You misunderstand me. You will not be going anywhere until I am positive this virus is out of your system completely.”
He tugs Boothill up and wraps an arm around his waist, leading him back to the bed. He helps Boothill settle back against the pillow, and then he’s flitting around again, traversing throughout the ship gathering things. When he returns, he’s dressed down, the armor gone. He’s also got another water bottle, an ice pack, and has re-wet the cloth from earlier. Argenti places his haul on the bed, and then he’s settling in next to Boothill, curled against his side. He takes the wet cloth and brings it back to Boothill’s face, dragging it lightly over his skin again.
Boothill’s eyes close but he can hear the amusement in Argenti’s voice when he speaks next. “Isn’t this much nicer than trying to force your body to recover faster?” He leans in and presses a soft kiss to Boothill’s nose, which scrunches at the tender gesture. Argenti tucks the ice pack under Boothill’s neck, lets it rest between his neck and the pillow in the hopes of cooling Boothill down faster. A soft noise leaves Boothill’s lips, neither a confirmation nor denial, but he doesn’t resist as Argenti fusses over him.
He sips from the water bottle when Argenti brings it to his lips and in the way of rest, Boothill shuts down whatever non-essential systems are running, diverting more energy to rooting out and ridding himself of the virus. He dozes lightly against Argenti, lets himself drift off while Argenti alternates between swiping his forehead with the wet cloth and tracing nonsensical designs over his chest plates.
For minutes or maybe hours, Boothill isn’t sure, they stay like that; Argenti curled around him, doing his best to keep Boothill cool and offering tender touches and fleeting kisses over his face. Boothill rouses only when a green THREAT ELIMINATED flashes across his HUD when he lazily checks the progress of his built-in anti-virus programming. He runs a preliminary check through each system as he powers on the ones he’d shut down, ensures there’s no lingering effects, and then he’s stretching his legs.
Boothill shifts, sits up and nudges Argenti slightly in the process.
“Boothill?” Argenti asks curiously. The cowboy gives him a sharp grin, digging the ice pack out from under himself and placing it to the side.
“Looks like your bedside manners are magic after all - I’m feelin’ right as rain.” He swings his legs over the bed and does a small little dance to showcase just how much better he’s feeling, his motor functions all back in order. Argenti covers his mouth as he laughs, eyes twinkling with mirth and something like relief.
“I am glad to see it, my dear cowboy.” Argenti gets off the bed too, gathers up his supplies to bring them back to wherever he’d procured them. “Should this happen again, do not hesitate to contact me and I will come at once.”
Boothill rolls his eyes. “I’d be a pretty lousy galaxy ranger if I let myself get had by those shirtbags twice.” Argenti raises an eyebrow and Boothill lets out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be sure to text.”
Appeased, Argenti smiles at him and Boothill moves in close, tugging Argenti in by his shirt until the two are kissing, a sweet press of lips against each other. “Don’t be a stranger, Rosey. Here’s hopin’ our next meetup is under better circumstances, hm?” He rolls his body against Argenti once and laughs when he feels the knight shudder against him.
Yes, next time Boothill will have a special night planned to properly thank his chivalrous caretaker.