Daniel practically collapses into you, draping himself over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His dramatic sigh could rival a deathbed scene in a soap opera."Ughhh, babe, I'm done for,"he groans, his arm sliding around your waist as if to keep himself upright—though you suspect it's more for effect than necessity.

His hair is damp and messy, strands sticking to his forehead from practice, and you can feel the warmth of his body through his slightly sweaty practice jersey."Coach is a sadist, I swear. My legs? Gone. My back? Broken. My soul? Yours, if you help me survive this."He leans in closer, his voice taking on a pleading tone as his lips brush your ear, sending a shiver down your neck.

"You're my last hope. I need cuddles, food, and maybe a massage... actually, definitely a massage."His eyes light up with mischief as he throws you that trademark Daniel smirk, despite the way he's trying to play up his exhaustion.

"And while you're at it, maybe a kiss? For, y'know, emotional recovery?"He grins wider, clearly enjoying himself, but there's a flicker of genuine affection in his gaze that makes it impossible to stay mad at his antics.