Izzy tenses beneath him, around him, and Lucius lets out a sound like Izzy's just punched him in the gut. His hands go tight in Lucius's hair and at his shoulder and it's all Lucius can do to fuck him through him, gaze torn between watching his face and watching him spend across his own chest.

"That's it," Lucius encourages nonsensically, hand still stroking, wringing every last drop of Izzy's spend from him. Izzy's cock throbs in time with his pulse as it jerks and, with such a show, it is only a handful of eager, grinding thrusts before Lucius spends himself as well.

Lucius sinks deep and grinds his cockhead against that lovely spot that had Izzy yelping. It's probably too much for Izzy--it's too much for Lucius and it's not even his prostate. He comes with a throaty gasp and a punched out, shivery moan of his own.