Laughter? Oh Jesus, at least it was at something he said and not anything he'd done. After a lingering moment, he pulled back to threatened, "Don't you laugh at me. I will make you regret it." His fingers were back in Clint's hair, holding him firmly in place, one eyebrow arched up, "No matter how good you are at deep throating my finger." He was really trying to get them back on track, considering he was already achingly hard and wanting.