The bearded man’s tattooed arms grip the car door as he leans in, his plaid shirt untucked over a chest that swells with every breath, while the clean-shaven one sits beside him, legs dangling over the edge of the seat. One hat rests on the hood, the other tilted low over his eyes as he presses his palm into the metal, fingers flexing against the rough surface. Their bodies are built for work, muscles tight under sun-browned skin, yet here they pose like they own the road, the rural trees and grass blurring behind them.
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