Work Text:
Boothill had a metallic body, that was a fact, with the sole exception of his head. And just as everything has its pros and cons, the same applies to the cowboy’s body.
One advantage was that he could last longer in battle, with his modified body, he had no trouble taking hits, especially to his torso. However, this made him more prone to being reckless. He often returned from fights with a blue liquid leaking from some openings that were likely remnants of a recent battle, though he didn’t seem to consider it urgent.
But his modified body only allowed him to feel the pressure of certain things, like a hit or something scraping across his surface, not necessarily the way a human would. Just the sensation of pressure, fleeting, transient, and intangible. A frustrating sensation in everyday life, and today would be no exception, were it not for a knight of beauty who supported him after a fierce battle against a considerably large swarm.
The cowboy was in “perfect” shape compared to the knight, but Argenti insisted on carrying him to the One and Only. Boothill didn’t have the strength to argue at that moment, mentally blaming the swarm of insects that had plagued him during an exhausting battle.
After arriving at the One and Only, Boothill broke free from Argenti’s grip and told him to sit in a chair while he went to the bathroom to fetch the medical kit he’d stockpiled in bulk for situations like this.
While waiting for the other to return, Argenti began removing his armor, leaving only his black turtleneck and pants. Boothill might be right this time, he had gone a bit overboard in the fight. The knight soon began checking the areas where he had sustained injuries.
“Maybe I should write on my face that I won’t get hurt so easily in a battle.” Boothill was already standing in the doorway, watching the scene, he soon gave a ironic smile and lightly punched his own stomach, a sound reverberating immediately afterward. “You know? Metal body.” The cowboy remarked as he finished entering the room, immediately noticing his injuries and how there was a dark liquid beneath his shirt, perhaps already dried up due to the time it took them to finish the fight.
“I won’t be broken that easily, Rosey.” The white-haired man pulled up a chair and sat down across from the other man, setting a bucket next to the first-aid kit by his side along with a few more cloths to wipe away the excess blood.
Argenti couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, as much as Boothill was right, he liked to protect the cowboy, even if it was impulsive of him. “I know that, my silver cowboy, but it’s my duty to protect what’s beautiful, and you are no exception.”
Boothill felt his cheeks grow slightly warm at the comment, and soon began wiping away the excess blood from the other’s man abdomen, while his metallic fingers traced the muscular surface, hoping to feel something, but only the slight difference in pressure being applied was noticeable. The cowboy must have applied too much pressure, as he heard a brief groan of pain coming from above; instinctively, he withdrew his hand.
“Fork, i’m sorry ‘Genti, i was… distracted.” He cursed and quickly went back to his task of wringing out the bloodstained towel, prioritizing caution. Argenti knows it wasn’t on purpose; he also knows that his metal part only feels the difference in applied pressure, so he can’t help but let out a short laugh. “I see no reason for you to apologize, my dear. Your finger just pressed too close to the wound, and there’s no problem with you touching me either,” Argenti finished with an amused smile on his face.
Boothill hesitated for a moment, but soon went back to his work. The red-haired man quickly noticed the blush on the other man’s cheek and paused to reflect on what he had just said. The two grew tense, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable; on the contrary, they both relaxed as time went on.
As he applied ointment to some minor injuries like scrapes and shallow cuts, Boothill thought of his daughter, of how she, too, was constantly getting hurt, after all, she was a child and was exploring what she could do. Memories flooded his mind, one in particular was of a time when they went to pick some fruit and he let his daughter climb a tree.
“If you see you can’t climb any higher, don’t push it, daughter!” Boothill warned, as the girl reached the fifth branch of the tree, looking quite confident that she could grab a fruit that looked juicy but was too high up. “Don’t worry! I can get it in a second da—”
It all happened in a matter of seconds. Boothill was just a split second too late to anticipate his daughter’s fall, but he managed to catch her successfully. He immediately began checking for fractures, serious injuries, or anything else, but only saw the girl’s scraped knee. With a sigh of relief, he hugged his daughter tightly.
His daughter, on the other hand, was stunned by her sudden fall, but quickly hugged her father back. “I-I’m sorry, Dad… I slipped on the last branch.” Then she looked up at the fruit she had been trying to reach, which now seemed even farther away from the ground. Boothill gave a small chuckle and hugged her even tighter. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got plenty of fruit from this harvest. The most important thing is that you’re okay.” He let go of his daughter to look her in the eyes with a smile. “Let’s call it a day. I’ll tend to your scrape, and then we’ll go watch the stars”
Now back at their house, Boothill grabbed some ointment and a damp cloth, while his daughter sat on a bench, examining her wound. It didn’t take long for him to return; he stopped at the doorway, watching his daughter examine the wound. When she tried to poke at it, he intervened first, stepping further into the room and pulling up a chair. “We should treat this before it gets worse, okay?” Boothill called out to the girl as he wiped the wound with the damp cloth
The girl agreed with the other person, bravely enduring the cleaning of her wound. After he finished cleaning the wound with the cloth, he began applying ointment to the area. Looking more closely, she noticed a red mark on her father’s forearm that ran from his wrist all the way to his elbow. “Did you get hurt in the fall too?” the girl asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
Boothill was so focused on the task of gently applying the ointment that he was startled by her sudden comment; he looked where she was pointing and realized he had indeed hurt himself in the fall. Looking back at the girl, he smiled. “It’s not that bad, just some redness from the impact.”
The girl frowned at his response and at how little concern he showed for himself. Not letting the matter drop, she very gently ran her little fingers over the redness spreading across his arm. “You need to treat this too, Dad! Let me take care of it!”
The man didn’t have much time to react or respond, as the girl dashed off, ignoring her own injury with unmatched determination. He could only let out a brief sigh and followed his daughter right after, entering the kitchen to find that she had grabbed a cloth and was already dampening it.
Seeing that her father had followed her, she motioned for him to crouch down and gently wipe his arm with the cloth. They had a lot in common, more than he realized, even their actions were similar. The concern, the care, the tenderness, all of it… One day, it all came to an end.
The knight watched the other man, who was absentmindedly wringing out the cloth, as if on autopilot. Thinking something must be wrong, Argenti lightly touched the cowboy’s cheek, just to rouse him from his daze. Feeling the warm touch on his cheek, Boothill looked at him only to find a pair of worried eyes and a question on his mind.
Already knowing what the question was about, he stepped forward with a light laugh. “I was just remembering a few things.” He let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. “Sometimes, you and my daughter are so alike, the same sense of care and kindness. I think she would have loved to have you as her father. We could have done so much together, just the three of us.” The last sentence was spoken in a whisper, more like a statement to himself.
Argenti let Boothill continue, already knowing what this was about. “She used to get hurt a lot, she was a child, of course, and I was always there to catch her when she fell… She even returned the care I gave her! Whether I was sick or had a tiny cut, she was there to help me too...” Boothill gradually fell silent as he recalled more of the events, growing melancholy at the memories flooding back, as if they had happened yesterday.
Seeing the other’s silence, Argenti stood up from his chair and knelt before Boothill, still with one hand on the cowboy’s cheek. “Then let me do the same for you, just as your daughter cared for you. After all, being made of metal doesn’t make you any less human.” Argenti paused to observe the other’s reaction, Boothill’s eyes were shining, looking as if he were about to cry, if he still had tears. “I don’t care if your body is made of metal, if you don’t feel the pain of a wound on your body, I want to be by your side, just as you were with your daughter till the end. Let me take care of you when you forget to treath your wounds.”
Boothill fell silent, carefully taking in the knight’s words. After a few moments, he let go of the cloth he was holding and wiped his hand with another, using his free hand to take the knight’s hand, which was resting on his cheek, and press a gentle kiss against it as he leaned in further at the other’s touch. Such a careful, gentle, and comforting hand, despite its scars and calluses.
With a small smile, Boothill let out an amused chuckle. “Oh, sugar honey ice tea, you really do know how to use words better than I do in moments like this.” Argenti couldn’t help but smile alongside his beloved. “If you want, I can keep talking about how important you—”
The knight was interrupted by a kiss on his lips, it was quick, but sweet enough to be felt. “I understand your concern for me, just as I understood my daughter’s, and I’m very lucky to have had you both in my life, in both lives.” Boothill paused, giving a gentle pinch to the gentleman’s hand. “But you’re also careless in some battles.”
“Hm, perhaps you’re right, my dear.” Argenti laughed at the scene and soon the two fell into a comfortable silence, simply feeling each other’s touch.
Boothill was the first to break free from the touch, heading for the box he always left in the room for when he needed to make some adjustments to himself. Now sitting across from his beloved knight, he hands over the box with a slightly shy smile. “Could you help me with some repairs on my body?” he asks, looking away and scratching his head shyly.
The red-haired, now holding the box, laughed at the other’s shyness, and immediately beginning the repairs that needed to be made to the cowboy’s torso. Tracing every detail and every scratch on the metal with subtlety and love.
“Thanks, Rosey… Love you,” Boothill murmured almost in a whisper to his beloved. Argenti looked up and gave a smile that reached his eyes, with spectacular devotion to the cowboy. “Love you too, my silver cowboy.”