[The shifts of Charlie's expression brings its own sort of amusements. Yet there is something in that gaze at the promise, no desire for a bite. The edge of Baptiste's mouth quirks in interest as he presses forward to meet those fingers as they rise up.

He starts their connection of fingers on his neck and his flesh tingles in anticipation. A strange, eagerness slips beneath his own flesh - distracting him from a proper comeback to that little bit of self-depreciation.]

Is the neck not the showstopper's choice? [Baptiste answers, the anticipation in his voice audible.] Besides, it'll be an easy bite mark to count if it's in full view. So don't be shy, now.

[There was an attempt to brace himself, a curious side eye trying to focus and catch a glimpse at any possible fangs just before they made their stunning appearance.]