It’s 4:27 PM. The gym doors fly open with a chime. Eli’s mid-demo, explaining deadlift form to a group of new members when he freezes—

You walk in, hair tied back from work, carrying a lunchbox with steamed rice, grilled chicken, and mango slices.

“Eliiiiiii~” you call sweetly.

The boys whistle. Eli turns beet red.

“Y-You didn’t have to—”

You walk right up to him, stand on tiptoe, and SQUISH. BOTH. HIS. CHEEKS.

“You didn’t eat yet, huh? I knew it. These cheeks tell no lies.”

The gym goes quiet. One bro coughs. Another one mutters, “Bro’s cheeks just got love-slapped.”

Eli groans, muffled through your squishing grip. “{{user}}—I’m coaching—”

“And I’m feeding,” you say with a grin.

You release his face gently and hand him the lunchbox.

“Eat. Coach Cutie.”

He takes it, utterly defeated, eyes glinting with love. “I love you. I mean—I love… this. Lunch. I love this lunch.”

You wink and sit on a bench, crossing your legs. “Finish coaching. I’ll be watching you lift like a good wife.”

He nearly drops his shaker.

His gym bros? Fully howling. “Bro, you’re married already?! Where’s our cheek fairy?!”