[Yep. Those sure are teeth that were made for biting, aren't they? They aren't a mouthful of needles or razors that ensure a trip to the hospital. Instead, their points almost promise a bit of fun with whatever bite they were capable of.

Or maybe, Baptiste is just spinning the situation as favorably as possible.

Though his curiosity is piqued at the appearance of that tattoo. A tongue tattoo? This guy is waymore hardcore than he lets on, apparently.

Amusement glows in his expression the moment he's disregarded as 'uncle.'] Would you hate that? [Ah. Was this guy a sadist then? Well. he's a cat, so probably.] Then maybe I can call on your boundless sympathy to put salve on my ass if I fail.

[Not that he would. His confidence is steadfast from the way he speaks.]

Though, I'd hate to worry you. [This little shit wasn't worried at all! But Baptiste enjoyed indulging this sort of temperament.] So I can write you out a favor. I'd owe you one special request. [Special request. It is undeniably flirtatious intent. Baptiste is still processing the can of worms of just how quickly flirtation rounds the bases in this place.]

[As Baptiste's hands hold onto either side of his hips, he pops them to one side.] I'll leave it to the bitey connoisseur for placement!