None of it is enough to pop Richie's bubble; he's too happy right here, even if he's starting to feel the post-nut clarity coming in with a reminder that he's sticky and sweaty and all the activity has twinged up an old ache in his back. He laughs a bit though, leans in to kiss Carmy's cheek and his temple.

"Fuck you. Maybe we should have just stuck something up your ass years ago and saved you from one or two of those mental breakdowns, cuz."

Skidding lightly around something he should probably be more serious about, but maybe the context will save him. Richie shifts a little bit, starts to pull out, wet dick dragging over Carmy's thigh as he rolls sideways and collapses with a groan into the space at the edge of the futon.

"Next time we go slower maybe."