"It's got a frame," Carmy says defensively as he backs up and stands: it is a queen futon on a frame, the slat kind that can prop up and become a double seater sofa. There's a cover, a nice linen blanket — all Natalie.
He scratches across the peach fuzz of his upper abdomen a little self-consciously once he's standing, flattered and bashful. He works out mostly for the mindlessness of it than any aesthetic preference, and he hasn't fucked around enough to hear anybody say anything about it. His dick tents out his sweatpants stupidly — no panties, no nothing, not while he's home alone. He steps backwards, not wanting to stop looking at Richie. If he takes his eyes off him he might vanish.
Richie is skinny in a way he really likes, a tall lean string bean 11of a guy. Carmy wants to feed him, wants to pin him down and bite him, wants to wrap up in him completely. "C'mon then," he says bright eyes, smug mouth all pink from kissing. Leaving food on the table wasn't allowed in the Berzatto household, but he doesn't even look at it, just stumbles backwards into his bedroom, breaks eye contact to take off his pants and socks. Hair flopped forward, muscular shoulders hunched, standing on one leg a moment as he bends and pulls a sock off, casually flexible, maybe just a little aware of what he looks like. "C'mon jagoff, I need you."
no subject
He scratches across the peach fuzz of his upper abdomen a little self-consciously once he's standing, flattered and bashful. He works out mostly for the mindlessness of it than any aesthetic preference, and he hasn't fucked around enough to hear anybody say anything about it. His dick tents out his sweatpants stupidly — no panties, no nothing, not while he's home alone. He steps backwards, not wanting to stop looking at Richie. If he takes his eyes off him he might vanish.
Richie is skinny in a way he really likes, a tall lean string bean 11of a guy. Carmy wants to feed him, wants to pin him down and bite him, wants to wrap up in him completely. "C'mon then," he says bright eyes, smug mouth all pink from kissing. Leaving food on the table wasn't allowed in the Berzatto household, but he doesn't even look at it, just stumbles backwards into his bedroom, breaks eye contact to take off his pants and socks. Hair flopped forward, muscular shoulders hunched, standing on one leg a moment as he bends and pulls a sock off, casually flexible, maybe just a little aware of what he looks like. "C'mon jagoff, I need you."