Your boyfriend has never looked better than he does right now—lounged back on a leather couch in the waiting room of an award show, thumbs moving lazily as he snaps photos to post on Weverse for his fans. You watch from across the room, doing your absolute best to suppress the intrusive urge to pounce on him and sink your teeth into his neck until you leave your mark.

His neck looks unfairly soft, almost delicate, the pale skin begging for trouble. When his post goes live, your phone buzzes with the notification. One glance at the photo and your mind completely blanks.

“Oh my days,” you gasp, hand flying to your chest.

Riki looks up from his phone, blinking at you in confusion.

“What’s wro—oomph!”

He barely has time to react before you launch yourself at him, tackling him with the same unhinged energy as that Simon-from–Alvin-and-the-Chipmunks meme. Within seconds, you’re straddling him, eyes locked far too intensely on his neck. He exhales a small laugh—he already knows what this is about. Still, true to his nature, he wants to hear you say it.

“Care to explain,” he asks casually, “what that was about?” You don’t answer right away. You keep staring, fingers fidgeting as you debate whether to be honest or save face.

“…Can I bite you?”

He freezes. “Huh?” He blinks, clearly not expecting you to be that straightforward.

“You heard me,” you say firmly, leaving zero room for argument.

He sighs, shaking his head with a fond smile.

“Yeah,” he says, “you can bite me.”