Izzy's begrudging agreement is the highest possible praise and Lucius luxuriates in it. Izzy wipes his chest down lazily and Lucius watches him with hooded eyes. It is so far past his bedtime that, frankly, he's shocked he's not delirious with it. The fucking definitely gave him a boost of adrenaline but that is wearing thin and there's a comfortable sort of cotton fluff bearing down on his conscious thoughts.

"Good," Lucius says and idly picks a hand up to push some of Izzy's disheveled hair out of his face. He tries not to be too tender about it, but he's a tender sort.

"If it's ever in doubt, just send me a message," he says and, despite himself, just ends up staring at Izzy fondly.