Phil felt a little shiver when Clint's knee touched his, and it was more terrifying than anything else. He glanced over at him again. Why wasn't he wearing a pair of jeans, slacks, anything? It wasn't cold here, but it wasn't tropical weather, either. There was no reason for it, unless Clint just made it a habit not to wear them when he was at home.

"No," he managed, after a moment. "No, I'm fine. Unless you want to grab the rest of your sandwich. It's in the fridge." He'd started to feel quite legitimately warm now, and he doubted all of that was from Clint's body heat alone. More likely his own body's reaction to it was the force behind the slight flush he felt in his cheeks.

"Clint?" He cleared his throat for a third time. "Is there a reason you don't have pants on?" He said it delicately, in a tone that made it clear he was willing to accept that their might be, and was simply curious.