A/N: This moment sprang out at me during the episode 'Despite Yourself', and it brewed a tiny plot bunny that required expanding. I may take this further depending on how the series plays out (I am LOVING Discovery BTW! It's awesome!) as I keep finding myself shipping Burnham and Lorca while watching the show...
Fingers
Dr Spleenmeister
A firm hand on his shoulder urged him to his knees on the deck, and as the shock of impact vibrated through his joints Lorca did his best to look pitiable; it would not do for him to show any sign of confidence in front of his soon-to-be jailers, not if the plan was going to work and his crew were going to get out of here in one piece.
The hologram projector flickered and as his pretend captor addressed the Empire officer with convincing affectation, Lorca unexpectedly felt possessive fingers curl into his hair. Schooling his features into pained neutrality, he fought the urge to both raise an eyebrow at the possessive touch, and - surprisingly - turn into the inadvertent caress. Burnham was just playing her part, he knew that, but the knowledge did little to assuage the unanticipated flicker of a shiver down his spine.
Just as it would not do to show confidence, it would certainly not do to display any kind of regard for his captor, so he forced himself to focus on the dull throbbing in his forehead, the cut he had inflicted in the turbolift oozing sticky blood down his temple; he forced himself to focus on the metal of the cuffs digging into his wrists, bound between his knees; he forced himself to focus on the verbal sparring happening above his head…
Fingernails grazed lightly across his scalp.
Oh dear.
He forced himself NOT to focus on the effect that the fingernails were having on him; forced himself to ignore the goosebumps now prickling the flesh of his neck despite the completely inappropriate situation; forced himself to-
The questing fingertips slipped to his neck and dipped ever so slightly into the collar of his jacket.
His breath quickened.
He swallowed.
Shit.