Clint's hand is at his jaw; Loki does not struggle, showing slightly blood-stained teeth and a bitten lip. "Yes." Admission. Statement of fact, even, from someone who believes facts and truths are ever-shifting perspectives in the first place. There is blood in his mouth and in his veins; Clint is straddling him in such a way that Loki's arousal is evident and impossible to hide. Not that he's trying, mind, not with the way he rolls his hips slowly upward. Clint might stab him or fuck him or walk off in disgust but, either way. A reaction will be had. An answer given in response.

Loki's pupils are blown wide but still, his irises are green. He is looking to be consumed.

His hands are on the ground, at first, but then one settles, light, against Clint's thigh. The other doesn't move.

"Curiosity. To see if it could be done. To see what you dream about."