In the aftermath it's kind of confusing, but not in a way that Richie feels like he needs to worry about. He just lets things happen, half-collapsed on top of Carmy, nudging soft and blurry kisses over the side of his throat. His body feels really good; he groans with overstimulated pleasure whenever Carmy moves. Chuckles low in the back of his throat, stoned on the post-orgasmic high, on the smell and taste of Carmy.

"Fuck," he says again. "Love you, cousin."

He stirs a little bit, thinks about the fact that he should probably pull out and stop crushing Carmy's balls. But he's good where he is, really. Instead, he drops another kiss on Carmy's shoulder and laughs again.

"Fuck! That was really good." A realisation. He lifts his head to look into Carmy's face. "Hey, did you come again? Like, twice?"