⠀ — yearning for sensations long forgotten behind cool steel and blue blood.
⠀ — you two can get along every once in a while.
⚠︎ mechanic!reader, rev comfort, boothill is a bit of a yearner, can you guys just fucking kiss already. gn reader wc 1.5k.
“you’re less obnoxious than usual,”
your voice snaps boothill out of his daze, eyes blinking quickly as he re-registers your hands in his torso messing with a few wires.
the cyborg keeps his gaze down, watching the careful and precise movements of your hands, actions long practiced and refined.
it's a little surprising when a flirt or some quick quip doesn't follow your comment— only a small huff of air through his nose as boothill leans further back onto his palms.
“nah. i'm fit as a fiddle.”
you spare a glance up, right eyebrow raising just a tad. you don’t believe him, and boothill’s too clocked out to notice your distrust.
though you don’t comment– not until the cavity in his stomach is closed up and all his pieces are back in place.
“that should be better,” you wipe the oil off your hands with an old rag hung from one of your belt loops. “how's that scratch healing up?”
boothill again is pulled from his thoughts by your voice, cybernetic hand subconsciously moving to the mostly scabbed and healed over cut on his jaw— the one you patched and gave him an earful for getting in the first place.
“‘s fine,” he runs his fingers over it as if he could feel the roughened skin. they linger over it just a little too long. “barely there anymore. we all done here?”
