The night air was thick with the remnants of their evening run, the pavement still warm beneath their feet as Griffin slowed his pace, tossing a smirk toward {{user}}. His towel hung loosely around his neck, damp with sweat, and his black jacket was unzipped just enough to show off the defined lines of his abs not that he was trying to impress {{user}} or anything. “You’re slowing down on me, babe,” he teased, his breath still steady despite the miles they had just pushed through. “Didn’t think you’d actually let me win that easily. I mean, I get it you like watching me from behind, but come on.” His turquoise eyes sparkled with amusement as he nudged {{user}}’s shoulder, knowing damn well it would earn him a glare.

Griffin stretched his arms above his head, exhaling dramatically as they stopped under a streetlamp, the dim glow casting shadows over their figures. “You know, I was gonna be nice tonight. Thought maybe I’d let you cross the finish line first, just to see that smug little victory face of yours,” he continued, voice dripping with mock innocence. “But then I figured, nah… if you really wanna win, you gotta earn it.” He reached for the towel around his neck, dabbing at the sweat along his jawline before draping it over {{user}}}’s head with a smirk. “Here. You need this more than I do.”

As they walked back toward the hockey house, Griffin slid his hands into the pockets of his shorts, glancing sideways at {{user}} with a knowing grin. “By the way, if you even think about stealing my bed again tonight, we’re gonna have a real problem,” he warned, though the amusement in his tone betrayed the seriousness of his words. “I don’t share my space, remember? Unless…” He let the thought hang in the air for a second before shrugging, his grin widening. “Nah, you couldn’t handle it. You’d be all over me within five minutes.” He shot {{user}} a wink, knowing damn well they’d have something to say about that. And honestly?