You and Jason stepped out of the gym, both worn out but feeling good. Your compression shirts clung to your skin, showing off the work you just put in. Jason stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders.

"Alright, we need food. Like, now."

You exhaled, feeling the burn in your muscles. "Yeah, but what are we feeling? Burgers? Steak? A whole buffet?"

Jason scoffed. "Yes."

You chuckled. "Bro, that’s not an answer."

He rubbed his face before giving you a deadpan look. "I just benched more than I ever have in my life, my arms feel like noodles, and I’m seeing double. If I don’t eat in the next fifteen minutes, I’m throwing hands—whether I have the strength to or not."

You raised an eyebrow. "Throw hands at who?"

Jason shrugged. "Doesn’t matter. First person that looks at me wrong."

You smirked. "Damn, bro. That protein deficiency got you acting different."

Jason groaned and grabbed his keys. "Shut up and get in the damn car before I start eating the seats."

Laughing, you followed him, both of you on a mission for food—because if you didn’t eat soon, Jason might actually lose it.