Knock Out's movements slow for a moment when he sees the scarring. He's used thinking of her in a sort of... complete unit, clothes and bioscans and all. It's not that he doesn't notice when she changes clothes or does something with her hair, it's only that his mind sort of packages it all together as Rogue without really observing the component parts. With her shirt removed, there exists a new aspect of her that he'd never really considered before.
But there's no real reaction to the scarring, other than a speculative bit of interest. There's certainly no aversion or disgust, and after several seconds he seems to have mentally updated and returns to exploring her with his mouth, pausing only so that she can remove her bra and toss it aside.
At her plea, Knock Out shifts position so that he can use one arm to balance himself and the other to add to a new element to this tactile exploration. Clawtips trace the ridging of her spine, dipping into tiny hollows and back out, and these too leave voltaic tingling in their wake. That touch travels down over the swell of her hip that rises above the hem of her pants, then across the flat of her stomach with just enough strength to leave the phantom of a scratch, just a raised red line that disappears after a few seconds. His attentions move upward, offering the same treatment to one breast, then the other, watching carefully for any sign that he's being too rough.
"How unhelpfully vague," he teases. At her shoulder, his mouth moves searchingly, coming again and again to the curve of her neck like he expects to find something there. This close to him, and at this angle, Rogue can see on his that there is exposed cabling there made of flexible linkages.
no subject
But there's no real reaction to the scarring, other than a speculative bit of interest. There's certainly no aversion or disgust, and after several seconds he seems to have mentally updated and returns to exploring her with his mouth, pausing only so that she can remove her bra and toss it aside.
At her plea, Knock Out shifts position so that he can use one arm to balance himself and the other to add to a new element to this tactile exploration. Clawtips trace the ridging of her spine, dipping into tiny hollows and back out, and these too leave voltaic tingling in their wake. That touch travels down over the swell of her hip that rises above the hem of her pants, then across the flat of her stomach with just enough strength to leave the phantom of a scratch, just a raised red line that disappears after a few seconds. His attentions move upward, offering the same treatment to one breast, then the other, watching carefully for any sign that he's being too rough.
"How unhelpfully vague," he teases. At her shoulder, his mouth moves searchingly, coming again and again to the curve of her neck like he expects to find something there. This close to him, and at this angle, Rogue can see on his that there is exposed cabling there made of flexible linkages.