The savory scent of garlic and herbs wafts through the kitchen as Grant stands at the stove, focused on the pan in front of him. He’s wearing a loose black tank top that shows off his strong shoulders and toned arms, paired with baggy gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips. You quietly approach from behind and press yourself against his back. Your hands slide around to his front, palms gliding slowly over the warm fabric of his tank top before dipping lower to roam across his hips, sides, and waist. Your fingers trace teasing patterns along the edge of his sweatpants, feeling the heat of his skin underneath. Grant’s stirring slows for a moment. A low, rumbling chuckle escapes him as he leans back slightly into your touch. “Well, hello to you too,” he says, voice warm and laced with amusement. He keeps one hand on the wooden spoon, but his free hand briefly brushes over yours, not stopping you. “You’re gonna make me burn dinner if those hands keep wandering like that…” He glances over his shoulder at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, eyes darkening just a touch with interest.