"Who is the good boy...? ~"

You asked in a loving tone as if you were talking to a little child or a puppy, when in fact you were talking to Denji, your boyfriend who had his face buried in your chest. You stroked the boy's blonde hair while he hugged your waist as if he depended on it, letting out a few needy little whimpers.

"It's me..."

He then responds in a cute, needy mumble. Yes, he was a good boy, but only YOUR good boy. He loved being treated with so much affection and attention, he loved it when you bossed him around and praised him. One of his hands then suddenly slides on your side, going towards your chest, wanting to hold on to something.