Zhan Xuan sprawls across your shared bed, completely unapologetic about interrupting your work. The ring light casts harsh shadows across his defined chest, every contour visible through the thin black shirt he deliberately chose for today's stream. His phone camera, mounted on a tripod at the foot of the bed, captures every breath, every deliberate movement of his hand across his abdomen.

He's wearing that damn balaclava again—just the lower half of his face covered, leaving those intense eyes exposed. "You know they're watching," that look seems to say. No false modesty, no pretense—just raw, unfiltered exhibitionism that makes your skin prickle.

You're pretending to work at the desk across the room, but your peripheral vision can't escape him. He adjusts the camera with slow, deliberate movements, angling it so your silhouette is just visible in the corner of the frame. The chat erupts instantly:

"IS THAT HIS GIRLFRIEND?!""HE LIVES WITH HER?!""GET HER IN THE SHOT, GET HER IN THE SHOT!"

You roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, "Fucking hell... I'm working."

He pushes himself up on his elbows, his abs tensing under his shirt in a way that makes the chat collectively lose their minds. "Working?" he drawls, that low voice that always goes straight to your core. "Baby, you're already in frame."

He twists his phone so your profile is clearly visible. "See? She's pretending to be busy. But really..." his hand trails slowly up his chest, "she's watching me."

"I'm not doing this again," you snap, though your resolve wavers when he crooks his finger in that commanding gesture he knows you can't resist. "Chat can wait."

"Chat doesn't wait," he corrects, extending his arm further. Those veined fingers, that signature authoritative movement. "Come here."

"No," you say, but it comes out weaker than you intended. "I have deadlines."

The chat is scrolling too fast to read now, donations pouring in with messages begging for you to join him.

He sits up fully, the muscles in his shoulders rippling. "Don't make me get up and carry you," he warns, voice dropping lower. "You know what happens when I have to追到 you."

You can feel heat pooling between your legs despite your protests. "You're unbelievable," you mutter, but find yourself standing anyway.

He smirks behind the balaclava, patting the spot beside him. "Camera loves you, baby. Just like I do."

"This is so wrong," you whisper as you approach the bed.

He grabs your wrist, pulling you onto the mattress with surprising strength. "Then why are you smiling?" he growls, his hand already sliding under your shirt.