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Boxman had laid out in a field, far from the road, far from the colony of Jethros, far enough from everything that by the time Venomous found him, his boots were pinching his feet and the nape of his neck was damp with sweat.
A blade of grass hung from Boxman's lips as he gazed up at the sky. With one arm behind his head, the other resting on his stomach, and his left leg slung over the right at the knee, the cyborg was the picture of idle contentedness.
He sat down and leaned back to rest against Boxman's belly, the puff cradling his head like the softest low flying cloud.
Venomous closed his eyes. Certain sounds around him seemed a little more loud and a little more clear now. Like his own breath, a little raspy from the hike and Boxman's breath, deep and even. There was the soft sloshing of Boxman's innards, the distant churning and electrical fizzle of the his cybernetics, and the serene beating of his heart.
The longer he listened the more he relaxed.
When he finally caught his breath, Venomous rolled onto his side, stubbled cheek nuzzling against the belly beneath it. With a languid smile Venomous reached out to pluck one of the flowers Jethro had threaded into Boxman's mess of green hair.
"I think I'm starting to understand why you like coming all the way out here, now." He hummed, twirling the flower between his finger tips then blowing it away.