Leaning against the wall, Severus pulled Remus flush against his body, wanting the heat and the sensation of a willing lover. He let go of Remus with one hand, suddenly overwhelmed be an immense need for Remus to confirm they could do this. With a shaking hand, Severus opened his robe and shirt at the neck, still kissing Remus deeply.
As they broke apart to breathe, Severus pulled his shirt open, not really knowing why, just moved by some kind if basic instinct for what whould restore a little of what the events on the day of the full moon had ruined. Severus tilted his head a bit, baring his neck to Remus. One thing Severus had realised after the transformation was that there were not Remus or the wolf. They were mingled so much that it was impossible to split them apart, and having Remus meant having the wolf, too -- just like Severus' almost perverse need for the wolf also brought Remus with it, and with that the needs of the man, as well as those of the wolf.
Under the heavy fabric, Severus' neck was pale and white, except for the red scars. The mark the wolf had given him had faded and gone, and Severus felt as if something was missing if he was to welcome Remus back in his life. He needed - just as he had once needed to be a part of the Dark Lord's henchmen - the physical confirmation, to look at himself in the mirror and see Remus' mark on his skin, to feel he belonged somewhere, or to someone.