"Yeah," Carmy says sleepily, even though he hadn't noticed or cared. "But you brought your dick, which is better." That's all he'd been thinking about when he texted.
This, though, an embarrassment of riches. His face close enough to Richie's pit he's breathing in the smell of him, but in a way he likes, warm and familiar. They've never done this, even platonically, slept piled onto each other, but it kind of feels like they have, because it's how he used to sleep with Mikey.
Carmy doesn't get enough sleep, so the moment his body gets the green light he's gone, snoring softly in under a minute. He wakes again with the alarm, has to roll out of the sweaty cocoon of their bodies to whack at it before coming back; it's cold out there, and Richie is so warm. Last night's desire to get off again has faded into a simple, sleepy affection, and he trails his fingers over Richie's skin with his eyes closed amd mouth quirked foolishly.
Tired as he is, Richie sleeps soundly and without dreams, not stirring even when Carmy rolls away to deal with the alarm and waking up almost in the same position he went to sleep in. Awareness arrives slowly, confused at first when he blinks his eyes open for a moment and finds himself in a different bed, then he takes a breath, smells and feels Carmy, and remembers.
He murmurs softly, lifting his hand to blindly feel his way up Carmy's shoulder until he can pet his hand over his sweaty curls, vaguely stroking them back from the vicinity of his face.
"Hey, cousin," he croaks out, then has to turn his head and cough a couple times. "Fuck. Gotta stop smoking."
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This, though, an embarrassment of riches. His face close enough to Richie's pit he's breathing in the smell of him, but in a way he likes, warm and familiar. They've never done this, even platonically, slept piled onto each other, but it kind of feels like they have, because it's how he used to sleep with Mikey.
Carmy doesn't get enough sleep, so the moment his body gets the green light he's gone, snoring softly in under a minute. He wakes again with the alarm, has to roll out of the sweaty cocoon of their bodies to whack at it before coming back; it's cold out there, and Richie is so warm. Last night's desire to get off again has faded into a simple, sleepy affection, and he trails his fingers over Richie's skin with his eyes closed amd mouth quirked foolishly.
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He murmurs softly, lifting his hand to blindly feel his way up Carmy's shoulder until he can pet his hand over his sweaty curls, vaguely stroking them back from the vicinity of his face.
"Hey, cousin," he croaks out, then has to turn his head and cough a couple times. "Fuck. Gotta stop smoking."