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Her lips were greasy with butter and her fingers coated with toast crumbs the first time Lockwood kissed her.
Lucy had stumbled into the kitchen, squinting at the weak light filtering through the window and throwing herself into her usual chair with a jaw breaking yawn. Lockwood had smiled at her, looking as tired as she felt in his rumpled pyjamas and his ever present dark under eye circles.
He had waited until she had spooned far too much sugar into her waiting mug before sliding a plate of toast towards her, his long fingers catching on the edge of the bread. She hummed her appreciation, her sock covered foot moving to wrap around his boney ankle. Lockwood lifted the corner of his mouth in a small smile, tapping the ring on his finger absentmindedly against his mug as he watched her take the first bite of toast.
Lucy watched through lidded eyes as he lifted his finger to his mouth and sucked the smear of butter clean. She tried to force down the flush rising up her face, taking a long gulp of tea and hid her hot face behind her mug. She focused on her next bite of toast, avoiding the heat of his intense gaze which did nothing to quell the fire under her skin.
"Hey," Lockwood murmured, ducking his head as he tried to meet her flitting gaze. His hand wrapped around Lucy's wrist, the toast dumped unceremoniously from her grasp as he pulled her closer. The warmth of his hand seeped through the thin material of her pyjama sleeve as it slid up to her shoulder and it practically burned her bare skin when he cupped the back of her neck, long fingers weaving into her tangled hair.
Her eyes had already closed by the time his lips brushed against hers and her hand moved to wrap around his wrist this time, the toast crumbs on her fingers digging into the delicate skin. Lucy wondered if he could taste the butter when he pulled away, his tongue darting out and wetting his lips nervously. Her gaze slid down at the movement, fingers clenching and biting into his wrist, before tilting her head in an unspoken invitation.
Their lips met again, slanting together with shared breath. Lucy gasped when Lockwood's other hand moved to grasp at her jaw, tilting her head, angling for a deeper kiss. His tongue brushed into her mouth and she could taste the citrusy bite of the Earl Grey he had been drinking only minutes before. She shifted, pushing her body closer to his over the corner of the kitchen table and her free hand finally moving to clench into the fabric of the pyjama shirt covering his chest.
Lucy wasn't sure how much longer they would have carried on - whether she would have climbed into his lap and pressed her body against his, whether she could have wrenched a groan from low in his chest - until a thump from the ceiling above their heads pulled them apart. They untangled their hands and arms, Lockwood's thumb brushing along her bottom lip softly, gently, slowly before they both leaned back into their chairs.
She was sure the flush had faded from her cheeks by the time George stumbled into the kitchen. He grumbled a half hearted good morning, stomping and banging around as he made a cup of tea. Lockwood's eyes met hers as they sat in silence, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"Why is there a half eaten slice of toast on the floor?"