A/N: i took what i thought would be a normal timeline for a couple and doubled it because their silly and slowww

(might change the title i can't remember the one i originally thought up and didn't write down oops lol)
anywho i hope you enjoy! :)

Lucy cursed as she slammed open the door to her attic room and raced up the last short flight of stairs.

The skies in London had opened up for a non-stop downpour for the past few days and despite how many notes she had left on the thinking cloth and verbal reminders to Lockwood over the month, he had not fixed the leak (now leaks) in her ceiling.

Had his reasons for putting it off been understandable and fair? Debatably, yes. Having a roof properly fixed was expensive, but she would've been satisfied with an inside temporary patch job. And yes, she slept in Lockwood's room about as often as she slept in her own lately, as they progressed into month six of dating (for lack of a better word that encompassed all they were to one another), but it was always nice to have the other option.

And he had been stressed about it too. Perhaps if Lucy were feeling generous she could look at it in only the positive, that after everything Lockwood could handle his family home needing another change/upgrade. But she wasn't because now she had no clothes!

There was no excuse. She had most importantly and inexcusably needed the leak fixed before this exact disaster she had predicted and Lockwood had assured wouldn't happen- the trajectory of the stretching crack had been right toward her dresser and drawers and now all her clothes, including what was on the floor, was a big mess of wet and dry and dirty and clean.

Though, perhaps the latter could be attributed to her dismal sorting system of tossing clothes on her floor as she saw fit. Dirty aside, even the neatly folded items placed carefully in her drawers and hung precisely (thanks Holls) were made sopping by the storm that had worked its way inside.

"Lockwood!" she shouted down the stairs, stomping her foot in frustration then cringing at the reminder her socks were now all wet too.

His hurried footsteps sounded up every stair, and she watched as he sheepishly poked his head into the doorway before catching her glare, swallowing, and trudging up the last few steps into her room, kicked puppy look already finding its way into his expression.

Lucy did not focus on any of it. Especially the way his adam's apple bobbed with the heavy swallow.

"Yes, Luce?" Start of a charming grin slipping into place but she was in no mood to be swayed, so resolutely she turned to look once again at the mess that was her room and was for once not her fault. She gestured to the separate spots of dripping water (or, in one particularly bad spot, stream).

She heard him take a few more steps toward her, felt him stand beside her.

He let out a low whistle. "Guess we know whose room you're sleeping in tonight."

She almost turned to look at him and glare, but then she'd see his brilliant apologetic smile and cave, and she was not done being annoyed.

"I told you it needed to be fixed."

"And you were right." He acquiesced.

The surprising ease of his admittance (proof aside) finally made her turn. His hands reached for her hips now that he could tell he was swaying her favour toward him again. She crossed her arms stubbornly.

"You should've patched it ages ago."

"I wanted it fixed properly." His thumbs were rubbing circles into her sides.

"Then you should've done that ages ago." she huffed, resolve quickly crumbling.

"Holly's been going over our funds to afford it. I might be good with my hands, but I don't know how to properly fix a roof." His placating smile started to slant crooked, and turn teasing.

She let out one last frustrated breath, but he'd won and he knew it.

"It can't be fixed right now anyway, so let's get some towels and buckets for the water and then put everything into the dryer?" he suggested.

She dropped her arms, one hand akimbo, the other rested on his chest, smoothing out creases on his crisp white, too-tight, shirt. "Fine, but you're folding all the laundry."

His grin brightened. "Deal." He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips and then stepped back, some of the Lockwood-induced fog clouding her brain dissipated.

They got to work and before long her room was empty of wet clothing, buckets were collecting water, towels were placed around to collect any overflow or splashes from heavy drips. Whatever dry clothing had been salvaged was piled on her bed, the one part of her room that had thankfully remained dry, trying to figure out how to properly dry a mattress on top of everything else would have been an extra annoyance she did not want or need.

"Tea?" Lockwood suggested as he scanned around the room, looking appropriately apologetic.

With a sigh, Lucy nodded. "Yes, please."

George was in the kitchen making dinner when they went down.

"Smells good, Georgie," Lucy teased as she sat at the table and Lockwood went to make tea.

"I haven't had a chance to cook a good meal in ages. I've never been more thankful for slow business because someone refuses to take a break," he shot a look at Lockwood who just smiled amiably in return, "and I plan to make the most of it." He gestured to the two tinfoil-covered platters on the counter.

He was right, well not about Lockwood, while business had been booming they weren't nearly as chaotically busy as before Holly had joined them. He was right about them having a slow week now. Holly had rescheduled two cases already at the request of their clients. The coming spring and longer days sometimes made people feel safer and willing to put off clearing a haunting.

Before too long, the residents of Portland Row were gathered around the table with a delicious meal and great, if very teasing, company. Stomachs full and mood cheery, they headed upstairs for bed, or to at least change into comfy clothes before settling in the library.

And then Lucy cursed again as she looked through her dry clothes for pyjamas and came up empty. She hurried downstairs to sift through the small pile of what had been run through the washer and dryer already but still nothing. She hadn't thought about finding a pair and making sure it got put through an earlier load so she was pyjama-less.

She trudged back to her room. Surely she had some old leggings and an oversized shirt she could wear to bed? She sighed, slipping into the best thing she could find given her limited options and then made her way to Lockwood's room.

He sat in his bed, back propped against his headboard, pillow sandwiched between for padding against the shiny hardwood as he read a book. He turned to look at her, smile in place turning into pursed lips and a furrowed brow as he took her in.

"Going somewhere, Luce?" He closed the book and quickly shifted to slide off the bed and come to her.

"All my pyjamas are still in the laundry. This is the best I could do." She shrugged.

"Oh." The tension in his shoulders evaporated. "Do you want to borrow something?" Lockwood asked easily.

Lucy felt her cheeks flare, and that annoying twist of her gut Holly had explained was actually a symptom of her crush, even though it still happened now, whenever Lockwood made her especially flustered. She didn't miss the blush rising to his cheeks or the timid shine in his eyes, and the shift in his posture after he offered.

"That would be nice, thanks." Lucy swallowed.

It should definitely not feel so momentous to share clothes with your boyfriend. Especially, if you've been living with him, and had your laundry mixed together often. Should it?

Lockwood made quick work of finding a pair of joggers and one of his usual plain white t-shirts for her to put on.

"Here you go." Lockwood handed it to her with a casualness she could tell was forced. It was comforting to know he was nervous about this as well.

She stepped into his attached bathroom. She took off her clothes, put on Lockwood's soft cotton t-shirt and frowned. It felt comfortable and loose in the shoulders, tugging a little around her chest, but nothing that wouldn't be expected. It was below the waist Lucy was having trouble with. She knew Lockwood was slim, much slimmer than her, but she'd never really thought about that fact. Now, she wished she had before agreeing to this swap. She tried to pull the bunched fabric over her hips, it went but stretched uncomfortably.

Something else she hadn't thought about, in this context at least, was how much taller he was than her, it was showing now as she tugged the hem lower. It just about covered her bum, would probably hang past if the shirt wasn't stretched indecently the whole way around.

She let out an annoyed huff as she looked at herself in the mirror. Weren't boyfriends' clothes supposed to hang daintily off their girlfriends? Whatever. She pulled the fabric back up so it pooled around her waist again. She didn't want to stretch out Lockwood's clothes if she could help it. The joggers would hide the difference.

She pulled up the bottoms, having to do a little dance to get them on past her hips, a dance that was supposed to be reserved for jeans and occasionally stockings but never pyjamas. She looked glumly in the mirror, fingers trailing over the pulling seams on the borrowed clothes.

Lucy knew that men's clothes didn't account for wide hips, and Lockwood's especially wouldn't. He probably bought the slimmest option in the smallest size. That didn't stop something ugly twisting in her chest, frustrated tears pricking at her eyes.

The bottoms were tight around her hips and arse, hanging long, falling loose and baggy past her thighs, extra fabric would've tripped her if she didn't bunch it all up at her ankles. She couldn't begin to imagine what the skull would have said about it.

She wasn't unused to the flare of inadequacy that she felt sometimes being with Lockwood, but she thought she had long since moved past overly nitpicking her looks. She felt ill. She'd sleep in her clothes rather than be the reason Lockwood's pyjamas got all stretched out,

The door opening broke her from her thoughts, Lockwood came in, worried.

"Lockwood! What if I'd been naked!"

He at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Lucy, however, wanted to hide, disappear, crawl under a rock, or perhaps all three.

"Sorry." He cleared his throat. "You were taking a while, I tried calling and knocking, but you didn't respond. Everything all right?" As he asked his eyes roved over her, and Lucy's desire to turn into dust right there increased.

He'd seen her looking her worst, covered in ectoplasm, blood, dirt and grime, her hair a mess after a case or on an average morning, but those were all changeable. This was just what she looked like. She didn't want his reaction to it.

"Luce? You seem upset." He took a step closer, flush returning to worry.

Surely he could see what was wrong.

"Are they dirty? I can get you a new pair."

Always problem solving, her Lockwood. She choked on a response. He took another step forward, his hands falling onto her hips, thumb grazing the skin of her stomach left uncovered because of how the clothes stretched on her.

"They don't fit Lockwood." she finally got out, gaze focused on the bit of floor between their feet.

She missed the way his brows scrunched together in confusion

"I'll just sleep in my clothes, it's fine," she grumbled out.

The furrow in his brow stayed, as did his hands far apart on her overly wide hips. Finally, he left a lingering kiss on her head and pulled away.

"Whatever's most comfortable Luce," he said, then stepped out of the bathroom.

She climbed into his bed a few moments later, handing him the crumpled pile of his clothes which he took then expertly tossed onto a nearby desk chair to be dealt with in the morning, or more likely mid-morning, agent sleep cycles and all.

He pulled her close for another lingering forehead kiss, and she snuggled in closer. He pressed a kiss to each of her eyelids next, and more of the icky tension she'd felt before slipped away. Then he kissed her nose, and she smiled, and finally, he kissed her lips. The soft kisses quickly devolved into more, his hands trailed from the back of her head and shoulders down her sides until he gripped her hips, and squeezed, trying to drag her closer. Lucy pulled back so quickly that she almost fell backwards.

Lockwood's eyes blinked open, confusion and a flash of hurt crossing his eyes making Lucy feel worse. She settled back into his side, hiding her head in his neck and pulling his hands off her sides, mumbling an apology against his skin that he discarded as soon as the words were out. He asked what was wrong, but she didn't answer and eventually, they fell asleep.

The issue was left pushed out of Lucy's mind, almost entirely forgotten except for her making an extra effort to avoid looking at herself in the mirror.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! i've read a lot of fics with lockwoods clothing fitting massive on lucy and I'm just like he's a stick and shes got curves? so this was created! :) and then it turned into more sharing clothes stuff so we'll see where the story takes me lol it might turn into an M rated story that seems to be where it's going in my drafts but idk

i also think the tenses are a mess in this but meh

anywho let me know what you think!