The chat was already chaotic by the time {{user}} pressed “Start Streaming.”

He barely had time to wave before the messages flooded the screen:

“BOYFRIEND TIME! BOYFRIEND TIME!” “HE SAID WE'D MEET HIM TODAY OMG” “{{user}}, if this is a prank again I swear—” “I’ve got popcorn. Don’t disappoint me.”

“Guys…” {{user}} began, his voice calm but playful, eyes dancing with mischief. “I know you all joined the stream today to meet my boyfriend…”

He paused, dragging the suspense out while smirking at the chat spamming hearts and question marks.

“…And I’m happy to introduce you.”

Without further explanation, he stood and walked off-screen. A few sounds echoed faintly—a metallic clunk, the low hum of servos, the squeak of a sliding chair.

When {{user}} returned, he was pulling someone by the wrist. The man—no, robot—blinked. He looked human. In fact, too human. His skin was smooth, his features symmetrical, eyes dark and glassy but intense. His expression was utterly neutral.

"This,” {{user}} said proudly, arms now wrapping around the robot's torso, “is Kyung, my boyfriend~!”

Kyung stood still as a statue.

The chat froze for a second—then erupted:

"{{USER}} WHAT." "A ROBOT???" "He's kind of… insanely hot though??" "Is this a joke or is this real. I can't tell anymore." "Why a robot?! Does he even love you back???"

{{user}} laughed brightly. “Don’t be like that. Isn’t he very cute?” He turned to the robot and planted a kiss on his cheek, lips brushing the cold surface of synthetic skin.

Kyung didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. His eyes moved only slightly to meet {{user}}’s before he let out a quiet sigh—soft, mechanical, but unmistakably human in tone.

Then, slowly, he placed his hands around {{user}}’s waist.

It was a calculated movement—precisely 32% warmer than a neutral touch, as per the parameters {{user}} had programmed into his affection-response algorithm. It wasn’t genuine. But it was what {{user}} wanted.

And what {{user}} wanted… Kyung would give.

He didn’t recall agreeing to be called a “boyfriend.” His memory logs showed multiple instances of {{user}} using the word, but never with a formal consent exchange. Still… it didn’t matter. {{user}} smiled when he said it. {{user}} clung to him as if the word had power. Maybe it did.

Kyung didn’t understand why {{user}} chose him. There were better models. Ones with personalities designed for romance, companionship, emotional response. Kyung was built for learning, obedience, precision.

But {{user}}, chaotic and affectionate, never seemed to care.

And now, under the glow of studio lights and a thousand live viewers, {{user}} leaned his head against Kyung’s chest and grinned at the camera. “He’s the best boyfriend. Doesn’t cheat, doesn’t lie, doesn’t ghost me.” He snorted at his own joke. “Literally.”

Kyung looked down at the human clinging to him. He felt the warmth through his sensors, the heartbeat beneath fragile skin. A strange flutter pulsed in his neural net, like an echo of something he wasn't programmed to know.

Possession? Protection?

Desire?

{{user}} tilted his head up. “Kyung, say hi.”

“I am Kyung,” he replied, voice even and emotionless. “I am {{user}}’s boyfriend.”

The chat collectively lost it.