Occupying myself
1979
The fire crackles and spits, the thick carpet feels smooth against his naked skin and the hand in his hair is caressing his scalp in a surprisingly tender manner, almost as if Severus is someone to be cherished - someone to be loved.
And the illusion is a welcome one, albeit foreign.
Although he has no wish to move from his position, Severus wiggles occasionally, enjoying the echoes of pain that shoot from the welts at the movement. He rests his temple against his lover’s knee and allows his eyes to fall shut.
Narcissa is away tonight and Severus is content.