Loki chuckles a little; he can't help it at all, not really. Is that where any of those books belong? The language one, yes, perhaps, but the book on weather should be several aisles over while the tome on snake sex (appropriately black as it is bound) should be much farther afield. What's happening, Loki guesses, is that he thinks of certain things when Clint is around. Snakes and arrows and cornfield skies. The difficulty of communication (yes, he caught the hint, thanks). The pervasive desire for touch, sex, connection between himself and this man.

Sex as a snake is definitely a form of communal connection. It would be easier than this dance they've engaged in now, certainly, but perhaps not as much fun in the long run.

"You don't like snakes?" A raised eyebrow.