#galaxyhunt

Their heart flutters and their chest burns like a burst of fireworks. It had taken their mind a second to catch and process the meaning of his words but now they fill them and consume every thought that races across their mind. ‘I think I might be in love with you’

Hound doesn’t even have to consider their response. It springs to their lips easily, falls off their tongue delicately like snow, but warm too like the crackling fire that backlights them and casts dancing shadows across Boone’s face. They are reaching for him before they even realize, threading their fingers together and squeezing gently.

They had gone out hunting alone, without Boone, and hadn’t returned until the sun began to set upon the horizon, painting the sky with dark oranges. When they step through the door he pauses, already on his feet and pacing around the floor of their home. For a moment there is silence between them before he rushes forward and suddenly their back is against the door they just stepped through. His lips crashing against them with such force that their teeth clack together.

Hound is helpless against his pull, returning his hunger with their own fervor. Their hands reach up, tangling in his hair, pressing against the back of his head to encourage him further. The kiss is as messy as it is desperate and Boone doesn’t have to say anything for Bloodhound to get the message behind it. ‘You scared me, I was worried, I’m so glad to see you’

It feels like ages before they part again, both their chests heaving, and still, he stands close enough to them that they can feel the warm flutter of his breath against their skin. Hound’s hands are still tangled in his hair but they loosen now to trail along the line of his jaw and cup his face gently.

They are just returning from a successful hunt, the fruits of their labor thrown across the back of their horses. They would deal with those later after they got a chance to warm up from the icy wilderness of Talos. Hound hops down from their horse, reaching up as their boots hit the ground to stretch their arms above their head.

They turn to say something to Boone but as they twist to call out to him over their shoulder they find him standing close behind them. He reaches for them without a word, tugging them flush against his body. The act alone is enough to make their questioning words die upon their lips but it's what he does next that steals their breath away.

His hand reaches for their respirator, carefully pressing in on the clasps that keep it locked into place. The carefulness in which he handles it, handles them, never fails to make their heart stutter. And when his lips finally find their's, they meet him with a smile - their hands resting against his chest as his slip lower down their waist.

A sharp gasp tears from their throat and the pull back abruptly with an indignant glare. Boone stands holding his hands up in the air as if he /hadn't/ just snuck his icy mitts up under their clothing to lay them flat against their heated skin. His expression is sheepish, but there is a mischievous glitter to his eyes that hints to his true intention and they narrow their own suspiciously.

"You did that on purpose." They huff in an accusatory tone that only serves to further widen his smile. Barely restrained laughter written all across his face.

His hand in theirs is gentle despite the rough callouses and scars that litter it. It’s much like their own hands, littered by scars and roughened by years of wear and hard work, and they find themselves gently stroking one little white scar in particular with their thumb. It’s small, probably caused by the quick slice of a knife, and though their curious nature urges them to ask about it they choose to remain silent. They don’t want to disrupt the quiet bubble that has surrounded them both.

@galaxyhunt

Bloodhound and Boone are both creative people and get in the habit of leaving little gifts for each other. For Boone it’s little drawings left about for Bloodhound, and Bloodhound it’s little poems or wooden carvings. If one of them wakes up before the other, they usually a left a little gift on the nightstand.

Even after Boone’s supposed ‘betrayal’ Bloodhound still misses him greatly and anything he gifted them is treasured more than any jewel. For example, every single drawing Boone has ever gifted them BH now keeps in a book that they sometimes leaf through when they are really missing him.

Before Boone learns their language very well BH uses that barrier as a means to compliment him and say how they feel before he learns better and they can’t get away with it anymore.

Boone is one the only people to ever know Bloodhound’s true name and they really love hearing him say it. His pronunciation is off at first but the way he whispers it when it’s just the two of them and he is holding them close makes them melt every time.

It’s not often that their village got visitors even after they started letting people visit again and the people that do show up are often an odd bunch. After all, for what reason would most come to such a remote part of Talos for? Though aruably all of Talos is remote and unknown, there were very few places that wasn’t untamed wildnerness. Still despite all that they still got people that came to trade, to hunt, though not all came with the intention to gain permission.

So this man’s arrival isn’t wholly unexpected and Bloodhound marches over to meet him as he disembarks from his space vechile. He is a hunter they could tell, and as they appraise him from head to toe he does the same right back at them. Flashing them with an easy smile and bright brown eyes that stare back at them from under his strange looking hat. That coupled with his flirtatious words -it’s almost even to make them grow pink in the cheeks.

Although the rough pads of his fingers against their skin are warm Bloodhound can’t help but to shiver as they trace along the scars left in their skin. Mentally they are far away, in another time, reliving the events that would change them permantely forever more. There is a nervous energy buzzing underneath their surface too, anxious and wondering ‘what does he think, what will he say?’. Ever since that fateful day Hound bareing their skin, even amongst their people, had been a rare thing but Boone... they feel safe with him. Safe enough to let him see, to let him touch what no one else has.

His voice brings them back down to ‘earth’ so to speak, their eyes slowly opening to stare back at him. It helps calm the storm in their heart, staring into the warm brown of his eyes, but still they reach for him. One of their hands coming to rest upon his knee- simply craving some phyiscal contact with him.

When they had first found him they been almost convinced he was already dead. They had picked him up anyway though, carried him home, treated and warmed him up the best they could. The evidence of tears still remain upon their face, dry salty tracks from the trip home. Their front is still stained with blood, his blood, but it didn't even occur to them to change their clothes - he is all that matters.

He is stable thankfully, for the moment, but they knew he needs more care, more treatment, supplies they don't have to give. But there is hope, in their eyes, the abandoned facilities nearby had a medical wing and within it, advanced medicine that could pretty much guarantee his survival. If he doesn't die before their return. 

It would be a dangerous journey, however, but one they are willing to make no matter what it takes.

Before they can move though, he reaches for their hand, holding as tightly as he can in his weakened state. It makes their throat squeeze tight, he knew them far too well. Knew exactly how they might react, how they might feel if he indeed did pass on on their watch. They couldn't help it though, they couldn't bear to watch another person they love slip away.