"That..tickles," he said, cracking a smile smile as her hands traced over his skin. He watched her and he knew what she was thinking without having to say anything.
He had a collection of scars from various missions, life as a roustabout and of course just being reckless and stupid and getting into trouble with his brother. The scar in question, the one Bobbi was focused on now, however, was one he remembered well - the first mission he was on with Agent Morse. Clint had been caught with a knife and used his body to block Bobbi from getting hit instead. The blade had sunk into his shoulder and left a jagged looking scar there at his right. It hadn't hit anything vital, but it still wasn't exactly what Clint would call a good time and was something couldn't be removed until after the mission was over, for fear of bleeding out all over the place.
He remembered at the time joking how he hoped their second date would go better... And the rest was history, as they say.
"Of course," he said easily. That was alright to say, he figured. Clint very rarely liked to discuss work outside of work, although there were those times where Bobbi would catch him, every once in a while, a million miles away. It was one of the contributing factors to why they didn't function properly as a couple, Clint couldn't leave the job behind, not really. But that just went part and parcel with their line of work. It was a sad state of affairs, but they were trying and hopefully the separation would work. And hey, the make up sex was great.
Which is what his mind was focused on right now. "Pretty sure everything down there is in working order, but if you'd like to double check..." Clint pulled Bobbi's thighs tightly around his midsection and gave her a bounce just for good measure.