Without even as much as a knock or any gesture to allow Hughie to know his private time was about to be invaded, his friend kicked the door open with a bag of food in one hand and in the other a half-eaten burrito. With sour cream on his lips Butcher lazily wiped it away onto his sleeve before entering the bathroom further moving to sit on the toilet seat.
Shoving the food in his mouth, thick digits worked on unwrapping a taco and handing it over to the man in the tub all the while assuring his eyes were being averted. “You gotta eat, mate.”












