I know that.

[ he's not bristling, but he's still a little distant. still, it happens that he ends up settled against anderson's chest, and it's such a pleasant feeling, and drowsy, that he almost forgets that he's supposed to be angry. almost.

he sighs, nosing into the side of anderson's neck but naturally not biting there. he's a good boy, at least, though the commentary makes him snort. ]

My favorite place is the thigh, but I'll refrain for today.

[ besides, his thighs are underwater.

he hums a sound, thoughtful, lids lowered and voice a little syrupy. ]

You know, it used to be all about the chest, not the neck. Stoker popularized the neck as the place to bite, and it picked up because honestly it's easier than having to divest someone of clothing before you bite them.

[ he frowns though, because he hasn't bitten anderson before, and while they've been working toward it slowly, the timing of it strikes him through the idle haze he's sinking into. he lifts his head, peering at him quietly, then speaks again. ]

You're not just letting me bite because I'm mad at you?

[ it's not accusatory, he's just making sure. he can just as easily use his nails. ]