Clint hisses. "The point is sharing warmth, not stealing all of mine." But he shifts, again, sliding one arm under Loki's cheek, using the other to pull him closer, so that Loki is curled against Clint's chest. It's more intimate a position than Clint wanted, like Loki is a lover of his, like they both would crave the other's presence.

And while that might be true -- god damn it -- it isn't what Clint wants.

"So it's not frostbite?" he asks. "What is it?"