He'd been wondering if he'd be kicked out after, if he'd really considered it, he would be surprised at the implicit invite. Later, he will be flummoxed, but right now he is just happy he doesn't have to get back up and put on trousers. Tragically, he does have to get up to haul the blanket out from under them. He does and, once he has it, just flops on the bed again and pulls it over both of them.

They've clumsily admitted to mutual regard, named themselves friends, fucked, and now they're draped perpendicular across a soft, comfy mattress, exhausted. This is the perfect end to a day. Lucius may shift closer as he drapes the duvet over both of them. It's not quite cuddling but not quite anything else--as much tenderness as he thinks Izzy will tolerate--and then lets out a comfortable sigh as he curls up.

"Night, Izzy," Lucius says and drifts.