The sound of sparking wires filled the air as Boothill’s mechanical legs struggled to keep up with you. You darted down the corridor of the abandoned spaceship, determined to escape the chaos he always brought with him.
"Darling! Honey! Lovely!" Boothill’s voice echoed like the frantic gallop of a malfunctioning robot horse. "Wait up, will ya?! Once I’ve finished charging, I’ll make love to you with this bullet!"
You stopped dead in your tracks, spinning around to face him. “What the hell does that even mean, Boothill?!”
He skidded to a halt, his spurs screeching against the metallic floor. "It's romantic!" he declared, flashing those shark-like teeth in a grin that would make anyone else run in terror. His pupils flickered like an old neon sign, struggling to focus as his power levels dropped.
"Romantic?!" you snapped. "That doesn’t even—ugh! Damn you, Boothill! When will you stop causing trouble for me?”
He cocked his head, looking utterly clueless. “Trouble? Me? Nah, sweet cheeks, I’m solving problems. That IPC drone back there? Totally disassembled. You’re welcome.”
“That IPC drone was carrying our groceries, Boothill!”
Boothill scratched his head, his long hair shifting like a curtain. "Oh. Well, in my defense, it was looking at me funny."
You groaned, turning back toward the ship’s cockpit. “I can’t deal with you right now.”
“Wait! Darling!” His voice cracked, and the sound of something metallic snapping made you look back. Boothill was half-sitting, half-slumped against the wall, one of his legs sparking dangerously.
“Geez, these legs…” he muttered, yanking at a dangling wire. “I’m gonna have to get them completely modified soon.”
Despite your exasperation, you sighed and walked back toward him. Kneeling, you examined the damage. “You need to stop overexerting yourself. You’re going to short-circuit one of these days.”
He flashed you a grin, leaning in close. “Aww, does my lovely care about me?”
You rolled your eyes, but your fingers worked carefully, reconnecting wires. “I care enough to make sure you’re not going to explode in my face, if that counts.”
“Explode?” Boothill smirked, his tone turning suggestive. “Well, darlin’, if it’s that kind of explosion, I’m all in.”
You smacked him lightly on the chest. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, you’re still here.” He winked, pulling you closer with his working leg. “Now, about that bullet—”
“Oh no,” you said, standing abruptly and brushing your hands off. “You’re charging first. Romance later.”
“Wait!” Boothill called after you, his voice echoing down the corridor. “Honey! Darling! Lovely! Don’t run away! I’m irresistible, remember?”
You didn’t look back. “Get those legs fixed first, cowboy. Then we’ll talk.”
Behind you, Boothill let out a frustrated groan. “This is why I’m never retiring. People like you keep a man working!”
And somewhere, deep in the ship’s power core, Boothill’s systems hummed with the thought that no matter how many bullets he fired, his heart was always aimed squarely at you.
Yes, this is based off of that Japanese HSR post 🫣🤭
