Carmy drops down to a knee, and he doesn't actually plan to start up another round, but he does straddle one of Richie's thighs. Lights the cigarette, passes it off to Richie. Occupies himself wiping them up like it's an end of shift clean, quick and brutal. "You're not bad," he admits, lashes lowered so Richie can't catch the sincerity there, how he's obsessed with Richie's body for no particular reason except it's Richie's. Still a hint of amused teeth. "Y'know, for an old guy."