Izzy flails and shifts on the couch and ends up dragging him along--but Lucius isn't letting him go that easily. In fact, this has just made it easier for Lucius to pull his knees up on the couch and properly absorb the space above Izzy. He releases him, after a moment, but only uses his hands on either side of Izzy's ribs to hold himself up so he can stare, insufferably delighted, at the surly man beneath him.

"No take backs," Lucius tells him, smugly.

The posture and position is so familiar that Lucius starts to move before his drunk brain catches up. He can't remember the last time he loomed over a man like this, all but straddling him, and hesitated to lean in and crush their mouths together. He's not about to start hesitating now--

Lucius, high on victory and admissions of feelings (however banal), bends and promptly slants his mouth over Izzy's. He's not shy about it, nor is he delicate--it's open mouthed and clumsy and glad.