(AN: HEY!!!! YEAH!!!! I've posted TWO chapters today so make sure you read PART SIX before you read this part!!)

For some reason or another (Kyungsoo wasn’t too diligent with keeping up with holidays), they had a long weekend. Long weekends meant marathoning shows in Kyungsoo’s room (because Jongin claimed it was comfier than his own), between bowls of popcorn and shrimp chips and ice cream and takeout and an assortment of fruity candies and chocolate. Jongin was sprawled on the bed, which meant Kyungsoo didn’t have much of a choice but to curl up half on top of him, legs tucked underneath himself. They were a third of the way through the fourth season of Person of Interest, high-strung and tense. Kyungsoo was, of course, stress-eating; he’d just started munching on the third bowl of popcorn, fingers buttery and shining in the low light of the room. Jongin would open his mouth from time to time, and Kyungsoo would feed him (it was instinct at this point, a habit so ingrained in him he didn’t think much of it).

But then Kyungsoo miscalculated and Jongin was left to chase the popcorn between Kyungsoo’s fingers. Shaw is in the middle of helping the crew open the safe they’d robbed; Jongin’s tongue against his finger isn’t quite enough to snap him away from the laptop screen yet. But then he feels Jongin’s teeth and he drops the popcorn, nearly knocking the bowl over. It hadn’t hurt, just caught him off guard, but he was still looking at the small indent on his thumb.

“W-what the ?” Kyungsoo asked.

Jongin looked just as startled.

“I was just trying to get the popcorn but you kept moving your hand,” Jongin said with a magnificent pout.

“Oh.”

Right. Because that made far more sense than the other thoughts Kyungsoo was having. He had to stop listening to Baekhyun talk about his biting kink.

“You could take it from the bowl, you know,” said Kyungsoo.

“But then my hands would be full of butter,” Jongin whined.

“Oh, so I’m supposed to get my hands dirty so you can eat popcorn?” Kyungsoo snapped.

Jongin opened his mouth to reply, but he saw the fire in Kyungsoo’s eyes and chose to stay quiet. There was a defeated slump in his shoulders, and the look he gave Kyungsoo was definitely apologetic. Oops. Kyungsoo sighed; he’d been brusque with Jongin these past few days, and couldn’t quite explain why.

“Sorry,” he said softly.

“It’s fine,” Jongin mumbled, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

It took the rest of the episode for Kyungsoo to relax again, sinking into Jongin’s side. But then Jongin relaxed, too. He wrapped an arm around Kyungsoo, burying his face in Kyungsoo’s hair.

“You better not be getting butter in my hair,” Kyungsoo grumbled.

Jongin laughed into his hair, but switched to resting his cheek on Kyungsoo’s head.

“Can’t promise anything,” Jongin murmured, his other hand resting on Kyungsoo’s bare thigh.

Because Kyungsoo didn’t wear pants in his room. Which all of a sudden seemed like a really bad and stupid idea. It was odd; he’d never felt so self-conscious before, so aware of how Jongin touched him, and where. Jongin had, in the past, smacked his a few times, but three days ago he’d done it and it made Kyungsoo go berserk. Each kiss, each caress was now torturous, because with each intimate touch he was more aware of how much he wanted all of this to be real. And now Jongin was dragging his fingertips along Kyungsoo’s bare skin, sometimes pausing to softly squeeze his thigh, thumb continuing its ministrations. Kyungsoo took a deep breath, concentrating on Finch’s pinched face on the screen, but apparently Jongin’s intention was to drive him nuts because Jongin then slipped his hand up Kyungsoo’s shirt to rest it on his waist.

He cursed, shoving Jongin off of him (and almost upending the popcorn bowl again). Jongin gave him a puzzled look, and Kyungsoo swore he saw a little hurt laced in with the confusion.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Kyungsoo stared at him, at the bit of worry that was marring his brow, at the subtlest pout that was forming; he didn’t know what to do. It was stupid, all of this, immature and ridiculous, but Kyungsoo decided, in that moment, with Jongin reaching for the napkin and the scuffle of a fight from the laptop speaker, that enough was enough.

“I can’t,” he said.

Jongin paused, blinking at him.

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t keep pretending we’re boyfriends,” Kyungsoo rushed.

Jongin froze, and Kyungsoo swore that it was the smallest glimmer of hope he was seeing in Jongin’s eyes but that was stupid; hope for what?

“Oh,” was all he said.

Then silence. Awkward, terrible, ugly silence. Kyungsoo had paused the show, the salt and butter off his lips.

Then…

“Why?”

And there it was. Kyungsoo had thought this far, other times, when he’d considered bringing this up, but his brain was short-circuiting. Come on, you’ve thought of a thousand excuses and now you can’t even think of one; Kyungsoo cursed himself for being so forgetful sometimes. But then—

“Because we accomplished what we set out to do,” said Kyungsoo. He felt very logical, then, sensible, practical, a realist in every sense. “We’ve shooed off all the annoying people that wanted to date you.”

Jongin raised an eyebrow. Oh, no. He knew that look. That was the I’m-going-to-demolish-your-argument look.

“If we stop, they’ll assume I’m single again,” he started, “which means they’ll start making my life miserable again.”

“But it’s been three months—”

“That’s not a very long relationship!” Jongin retorted.

“It doesn’t matter! Just act misera