Beefcake Friends – Jace & Felix Artists
The hiss of a spray can cut through the quiet night. Felix stepped back, admiring the deep red curve he’d just added to their latest piece—an explosion of color spreading across the abandoned warehouse wall.
“Not bad,” muttered Jace, shaking his own can before slashing a jagged silver line through the darkness.
Felix smirked. “Gonna tell me how to do my job now?”
Jace just laughed, a low, husky sound. They worked in sync, their hands quick, their movements effortless, painting side by side like they’d done a hundred times before.
Midnight Colors
By the time they finished, the adrenaline had burned off most of the beer they’d downed earlier, leaving them pleasantly buzzed. Felix took a step back, taking in their work—bright, chaotic, beautiful. “Damn,” he breathed.
Jace wiped his forearm across his sweaty forehead. “Not bad for a couple of drunks.” He pulled out another beer from his backpack, tossed one to Felix, then jerked his head toward the railway tracks. “C’mon, piss break.”
They stumbled down the embankment, laughing as they unzipped in unison. The night stretched endless above them, and the tracks shimmered under the distant city glow.
Felix exhaled, feeling the warmth of alcohol in his veins. His gaze slid sideways. Jace stood just a foot away, head tilted back, eyes half-lidded, breath slow. The streetlight caught the sharp lines of his jaw, the ink curling over his forearm.
Felix looked away, but not before Jace turned slightly, his lips quirking. “Caught you looking, man.”
Felix scoffed, shaking off a sudden rush of heat. “Maybe you were looking first.”
Jace chuckled, zipping up and stepping closer, beer dangling from his fingers. “Maybe.”
For a moment, all they could hear was the distant hum of the city and the faint hiss of wind over steel.
Felix took a slow sip of his beer, watching Jace over the rim. “You wanna head back?”
Jace held his gaze a second longer, then grinned. “Nah. I think I like the view.”
