"Fuck you," Carmy informs him, and he's taking off his apron so he can get a fresh one without cum on it, balling up the blue material, crumpling it between his hands as he looks up at Richie.

"Hey uh. That was good, though," he says seriously, low, like the words are being forced out of him. Getting better at saying shit like that. Figuring out - fun, and emotions, and letting people know when they've pleased him. Runs the back of his hand over Richie's abs a moment then smacks there lightly. "Um. Wash your hands before you touch anything in the kitchen, please." He's gonna go have a cigarette, out in the awful heat.