You’re sat casually on Boothill’s lap, your conversation flowing effortlessly as you lean into the relaxed atmosphere. But soon, your hands began to wander, your fingertips sliding down Boothill’s torso, gently grazing his metallic torso of his body. Your touch was gentle, testing the waters. Your hands lowering down his body.

Boothill didn’t flinch, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as your hands continued to roam. Finally, Boothill grabbed your wrist and stops you from going further. “Easy darlin’. Getting handsy, are we?”