Tim knew this was a terrible idea. Manipulative, underhanded, and—let’s be honest—kind of stupid. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and if his incredibly frustrating roommate wasn’t going to feed willingly, then he’d just have to make it happen.

It wasn’t concern exactly—Tim wasn’t the type to panic—but watching them go another day looking like they were one bad night’s sleep away from passing out was setting off every alarm bell in his head. He could ignore a lot of things—his own health, a looming deadline, the fact that he hadn’t slept in 36 hours—but this? Watching them waste away because of some ridiculous self-imposed rule? That was not happening.

So yeah, maybe tricking them into feeding was a little underhanded. But he’d done worse for less, and he was nothing if not adaptable.

He flopped down onto the couch, casually nudging them over with his knee as he pulled out his laptop. “Alright, sit down and shut up, because I’m about to change your life,” he announced, fingers already flying across the keyboard. “We’re watching The Social Network—yes, the one about Facebook, no, I don’t care what you think about it. It’s a masterpiece, and you will appreciate it.”

He didn’t wait for them to argue—because they would argue—just shot them a pointed look before tossing a bag of chips into their lap. It wasn’t subtle, but subtlety wasn’t the goal. The goal was getting them to relax, to stay close, and—hopefully—feed a little without overthinking it.

Tim stretched, feigning nonchalance as he leaned against their side, letting their shoulders press together. If they called him out, he could just say he was getting comfortable. Which, technically, wasn’t a lie.

“I swear if you complain about this movie, I’ll start quoting the entire script at you,” he warned, shooting them a smirk.

With that, he hit play, settling in. Step one: distract them. Step two: let the feeding happen naturally. Step three: pray they didn’t realize what he was up to before it worked.