"Yeah yeah yeah," Carmy agrees, heat flaring in his stomach at the way Richie is starting to fuck him. Bright blue focus, still, his hand mapping the movement of muscles in Richie's shoulders and back as he thrusts away. This is what he wants to go forever, this intimacy and freedom to just touch.

"You're gonna fuck the cum right out of me, cuz," he tells him, filthy nonsense just because if either of them talk about love again Carmy's going to cry. "You're so fucking good at this. I wanna feel you dripping out of me again."

Though he's not immune to his own words; this is a bad angle to jack off, but he can suck in his stomach and slip a hand between to palm over it, squeeze. "Yeah," he says again suddenly, words stolen, only junk noises left. "Richie, please."