Mark eyes the man in front of him, boldly matching his gaze as he slides his hands down the sides of his body sensually, putting on a show for all to see. His nimble fingers run along the waistband of his jeans and undoes the metal clasps. His thumbs slide under and he bites his lower lip teasingly before pulling the denim down, over the curve of his and down his thighs until the material pools at his ankles.

He stands, bare and exposed, but completely in his element.

"Yah, Tuan Yi-En!" Jackson screams from the other side of the wooden door. "You've been inside for almost an hour! Are you done or not? Some of us actually want to use the hot water too!"

"Aish," Mark hurriedly turns off the showerhead and steps out of the shower cubicle, abruptly ending his performance. He fumbles for the towel on the rack and dries himself clumsily. "This Wang Jia Er," He wipes at the mirror which has once again steamed over and checks his appearance one more time before slipping out of the bathroom. "He's forever putting a downer to my toilet performances."