Marquesate

Opening the door, he nearly did a double take into the mirror behind him. Hooch. Hooch, pushing his shades back up onto his head, and re-shouldering the bergan. Hooch, standing in the doorway. __een thinking._ Two words, more than usual. __een around a bit._ Six, speech worthy of a national holiday. __ooking for a station now._ Eleven, whole fucking fireworks. "Central station._ Thirteen, and the heavens came down for Matt. __ou still offering?_ Sixteen, and the world stopped spinning. Matt stood thinking for a while, not a muscle in his face twitched. Then stepped aside, gestured the other man to follow him. Closed the door. __ne condition._ Hooch__ brows rose for a split second. Matt broke into a grin at last, which threatened to split his face. __romise not to talk too much.