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“Howdy, stranger.” The voice was low, raspy; the silhouette in the dim light of the bar was long and lanky and moved with a kind of predator’s grace. “This seat taken?”
“Go ahead,” Aventurine said, sparing a glance. The guy gave him a grin full of unnaturally sharp teeth. The bar’s colorful glow glinted off the steel panels of his arm, his chest a rainbow of neon colors.
“Buy you a drink?”
“Why not?” Aventurine never turned down a free drink—that was just common sense. And there was a certain appeal about this stranger, a deadly gleam in his eye.
The stranger ordered the drinks, then sat beside Aventurine, removing his hat and setting it in his lap. He had long white hair that looked soft as silk, and a strange marking to his eyes that was hard to make out in the shadows.
“Name’s Boothill.” A metallic hand was extended for Aventurine to shake.
“Aventurine. Where are you from, Boothill?”
“Somewhere that don’t exist anymore.” The bartender brought them their drinks and Boothill took a long sip.
“That’s funny. Me too.”
Boothill gave him a crooked smile. “Maybe we’re not so different, you and I.”
He might have been right about that, because conversation flowed easily between them. They kept it light, carefree. No questions about family, work, or their personal lives. Instead, they swapped stories of where they’d been around the galaxy, wonders glimpsed on different planets, the long interminable expanses of space they’d crossed.
Something about Boothill was open, earnest, despite how carefully guarded he kept his secrets or how in the dim light, his profile almost looked like one on the IPC bounty posters nailed to a board along the entrance to the nearby spaceport.
It was nice, the vibe they had going. Light and uncomplicated. Aventurine paid for his drinks after the first and Boothill seemed genuinely grateful, and also like he was probably broke.
In addition to being friendly, funny, and genuinely nice, Boothill was also sexy as hell. Aventurine would have to be blind, or possibly a Mourning Actor, not to notice. That raspy voice, his surprisingly pretty face, and the aura of danger that settled around him like a cloak.
It had been quite some time since Aventurine had this kind of electric connection with a stranger. Why shouldn’t he pursue it? He was in desperate need of stress relief after those Iymanikan warlords strapped him to an electric chair and nearly fried him.
He’d laughed the whole thing off over drinks with Jade and Topaz, but the truth was that he still had dreams about it, nightmares where his gambit failed and they laughed as electricity licked up his skin and into his brain.
“Hey, handsome,” he said, as they finished—was it the sixth round of drinks? “Care to come upstairs with me? I’ve got a room?”
Boothill’s eye widened in perfect shock. “You ain’t sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’.”
“No. I am.” Aventurine put on his best seductive smile and leaned into Boothill’s space. “Come on, cowboy. How about a roll in the hay?”
“I, uh. Are you sure?” For the first time since they’d started talking, Boothill sounded nervous. “Pretty thing like you and a hunk of metal like me?”
“I think you’re hot. But no pressure if you don’t want to. I won’t be offended.”
“Well, fudge.” It seemed like Boothill still wasn’t getting the message clearly, like he couldn’t quite believe Aventurine would be interested in him. “I, uh. I probably don’t have the parts you’re looking for.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Aventurine said. “I’m pretty versatile.”
“Still. You probably ain’t seen nothin’ like this.” Boothill hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision. “I’ll show you what I mean. Then you can decide if it’s worth your while.”
That felt like a victory, like a line of gleaming symbols on a slot machine, indicating a jackpot.
“Then let’s go,” Aventurine said, taking his hand and leading him out of the bar.
Boothill felt a little overwhelmed, following Aventurine down the hotel hallway to a single door which he opened with a keycard. Aventurine was pretty as all hell, no two ways around it. But he was probably going to be disappointed with Boothill’s situation . He hadn’t given much thought to sex when adapting to his cybernetic body, not that he’d really had any say at all in how it was created.
Never before had he felt the lack so keenly.
The door to the hotel room closed behind them and Aventurine was on him before he’d had the chance to do more than take the quickest glimpse around the dingy space, checking for enemies in the corners and behind the furniture.
The pretty boy kissed like he meant it, like he really did desire Boothill. It was gratifying and a little reassuring, but he still felt heavy trepidation about the next bit.
Aventurine left Boothill’s vest on, running his fingers over metal abs before beginning to unfasten the belt holding up his chaps. Boothill mentally dialed up the sensitivity of his metal plating so he could feel the warmth of Aventurine’s fingertips, the press of their bodies together. Aventurine was hard, shamelessly pressing his length against Boothill’s thigh. He pulled back only to get Boothill’s chaps off, then he was right back in Boothill’s space, clingy as ever.
“You really don’t have anything,” he said, taking in the smooth metal curve of Boothill’s groin. He didn’t seem put off by this.
Boothill still got a little dizzy when he thought of what used to be there, so he didn’t think of it, ever.
“But that’s not the important thing,” Aventurine continued. “The real question is, can you feel this?” He slipped his fingertips between Boothill’s legs and pressed firmly, rubbing the polished metal there.
Boothill let out an embarrassing whine that probably answered his question better than words could have. He didn’t fully understand the technology that let him feel sensations on his body as though it was still made of flesh and flushed with nerve endings. But they’d told him that he’d adapt better to his new form if he could feel the usual sensations, and he’d believed them.
“You like that, do you?” Aventurine sounded delighted, pulling his fingers away so he could push Boothill down on the scratchy quilt of the motel bed. “Let’s see if I can make you come.”
His brain already turning to mush in Aventurine’s skilled hands, Boothill could only let out a low moan as Aventurine lowered himself until his face was between Boothill’s thighs.
“You don’t gotta—”
Boothill’s flustered protest was cut off with another humiliating, desperate noise as Aventurine licked the smooth metal of his groin, looking up at him with those strange eyes like he knew just how he was breaking Boothill apart.
After that, it was a blur of sensation and desire, as Aventurine thoroughly mapped out that metal plate with his lips and tongue and Boothill writhed under his tender ministrations. It was almost too much, the sweet rush of pleasure from every touch, but at the same time he hoped Aventurine would never stop. The heat coiled in his gut, tighter and tighter until it unfurled all at once and he came, howling and arching his hips as searing heat washed over him again and again.
It took him a moment to come back to himself, systems nearly overheated by the intensity of the signals whizzing through them. He panted, opened his eyes to see Aventurine smiling smugly at him.
“That was hot,” Aventurine said. “Can you go again?”
“I, uh. Dunno. Never tried.”
Aventurine leaned in again, pressing his fingers just gently to the sensitive metal plating. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
It was and it wasn’t. His synthetic nerves were shot, jangling, and yet there was an addicting pleasure to it.
“Together this time,” Aventurine said, lifting Boothill by the hips so that his groin was flush with Aventurine’s thigh.
Aventurine’s fingers trembled as he undid the fastenings on his own pants, and Boothill was elated to see that his own desire was returned.
“Okay, cowboy.” Aventurine winked at him, leaning over him. “Ride me.”
Boothill arched his back, pressing the smooth metal of his groin hard against Aventurine’s thigh while Aventurine stroked his cock in time to the movement of Boothill’s hips.
“Fudge,” Boothill moaned, wishing desperately that he could actually say what he meant, for once. “Fudge, you’re pretty like this. I ain’t gonna forget you in a hurry.”
“Flatterer.” Aventurine was, pleasingly, out of breath. “Come on, baby. Give me another one.”
Aventurine didn’t need to encourage him. Another orgasm was inevitable, and Aventurine drew it out of Boothill easily, pulling his hips so his groin pressed into that hard thigh. Boothill watched with fascination as Aventurine came too, moaning sweetly as his hips kicked forward and his come splattered over Boothill’s metal abs.
Aventurine moved off of him and flopped down on the bed, breathing hard.
“That was good,” he said. “I think I needed that.”
“You ain’t the only one,” Boothill admitted.
With sly smile, Aventurine propped himself on one elbow, lazily cleaning Boothill with a tissue from the nightstand.
“I liked that a lot, make no mistake,” he said. “But tell me, cowboy. How do you feel about cybernetic upgrades?”
“I feel like they’re darned expensive.”
“Money is no object if I can fuck you,” Aventurine said, and a thrill went through Boothill just to hear those words. “What do you say?”
“I’d say that sounds mighty fine.”
“It’s a deal, then.” Aventurine yawned, stretching and then curling up at Boothill’s side. “See you in the morning.”
Boothill laid there for a long time, one arm around his sleeping partner while he stared up at the ceiling and wondered at his luck. There was a lot they still didn’t know about each other, but Aventurine was someone special. He was sure of it.