The scars aren’t that many. A few from childhood and random accidents but nothing major. Save for one running along his left wrist, it’s a few inches long starting from the base of his palm from an accident where he had broken it.

Bishop slows his washing and just enjoys the feeling of Sawyer willingly exploring him. He lets him and his relaxed state, the way he enjoys it, is evident.

Sawyer may still have his trust issues, for good reason, but in this moment he feels…okay.

Pressing a kiss to the others forehead, he closes his eyes and cleans the rest of the sticky mess, letting it all float down the drain with the bubbles.

“It’ll always feel at least that good in the future,” he promises.