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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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."