Slowly, gently, Al let go of the copper cauldron in his arms. He set it on the surface of the table, as a centerpiece, in equal distance from at least three sides. The cauldron's handles were even with the table corners. He settled down once more then, and slipped his oiled hands around Severus. He brought himself closer until they were sitting thigh-to-thigh and rested his cheek against Severus' shoulder. The black cloth was warm against his cheek. He rubbed his jaw against it and wrinkled his nose fondly.
"I wanted you back," he voiced softly in reply. "You were the first one I ever wanted in such manner. It was... fascinating to want a person. A real, actual person, not a... concept or an object or a historical figure. Well, you were historical," Al stumbled. "But, you know, also, real, and right there."
Al's arms wrapped around Severus and even his ever-present quill and parchment settled against the curve of his shoulder, as if also leaning into the hug.