Title: Shackled
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Disclaimer: I wish.
Summary: Sirius can't stop running away from him. But it's always something more that pulls him back. No matter how hard he tries, his heart knows what it wants. All he has to do is accept it. But that's the hardest part.

Sirius tried to get away, more than he liked to let on, but no matter how far he got he always ended up running back again. Two months it took him to realise why. Two months it took him to try and undo the shackles.

And then it started.

At first it was a Hufflepuff with straw-coloured hair and freckles. She was from Yorkshire and he listened to her talking for hours. They'd sit just outside the library, crouched on the floor, holding hands and Sirius would smile and laugh and play along.

He caught Remus in the common room after two weeks, sitting by the fire scanning book after book. He settled himself awkwardly beside him and leaned on his shoulder.

"I don't like her," Remus muttered, burying his nose between lines of text.

Sirius didn't say anything at first but just as he was stretching and standing up to go to bed, he watched him carefully, nodded and whispered, "Okay."

--

The next one was a Ravenclaw, against his better judgement, and she carried a rather battered copy of Hogwarts: A History with her on all of their dates. Her hair would jut against her jaw as she spoke and Sirius liked watching her lips curve into a frown when he didn't reply. And he kissed her.

It was nearing three am when he reached the dormitory, and he was surprised to find Remus still awake with his drapes pulled open. A loose tie hanging from his shirt, tucked into checkered pyjama bottoms.

He smiled. They both smiled and Sirius walked over and sat on his bed.

"Well?" he asked, eyes lighting up in the dark.

Remus was silent. Frowning. His brow creasing into hard lines as he chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully.

"She's too serious," he whispered, with a slight smirk almost not touching his eyes.

Sirius nodded, wringing his hands together as he stood up and headed for his own bed.

"Okay," he said, glancing over, before the last moments of light slithered under the door and out of the room.

--

It was a boy. He didn't know what he was thinking, or if he even was, but he thought it might be a better distraction. A gryffindor boy at that and it was convenient. His heart thundered between his head and his crotch when lips grazed his neck, full of wet breath and sharp vowels.

He liked him. He certainly wasn't anything special, but he liked him.

When Sirius started inviting him to join them for breakfast, Remus had a sudden loss of appetitite. Neither of them mentioned it but the looks passed between James and Peter when they saw him sneaking into the kitchens after their mid-morning lessons made it so they didn't need to.

When Padfoot disappeared just before the full moon and the shrieking shack was full of screams and shadows and empty spaces, nobody knew quite what to say. Sauntering back to the dormitory the next morning, Remus caught Sirius snuggled up in bed with him. He held his breath, swallowed past the burning in his throat and behind his eyes, and simply walked out.

--

"What the hell is wrong with?" Remus heard James yelling through the door. He'd fallen asleep on the couch in the common room and through bleary eyes and an ache down the side of his neck, he stumbled up the stairs, only to pause outside at the raised voices.

"I said -- what the hell is wrong with you?" James repeated, and Remus winced. He heard rummaging and shuffling and indignant scoffs.

Peter whimpered and then Sirius's voice shook heavily down the hall, "Nothing. Okay, I said nothing. I'm sorry. I like him. What else do you want?"

"Apologise to Remus!" James hissed, he could almost pictures the veins throbbing against his forehead and the red rushing over his face and down under his shirt. Under his skin.

"I did!" Sirius screamed back, voice dropping to a sigh, "I did."

He closed his eyes and tried to push back the bile creeping up his throat. His hands gripped so tightly onto his books he almost tore the pages. His knuckles paled like his face and he turned on his heel and walked back down the stairs again.

--

"Remus?" Sirius whispered, a week later. It was midday and Remus was still buried beneath his bedsheets.

"You missed it again," he murmured, something catching in his voice and his throat feeling dry.

Sirius squinted his eyes into each other, his nose wringing in an odd sniffle as he poked his head through the curtains, "Missed it?" he whispered, his body tensing at the hollow eyes peering up at him from dishevelled hair across the mattress.

Remus was dissapointed. Remus was hurt. His heart tugging at his nerves as he whispered, "The full moon."

All Sirius could find the decency to say was, "Oh."

--

They were holed up in the common room, just the two of them, Sirius after his mother had called the school frantically and demaned his removal from all Hogsmeade trips. They'd had no choice but to comply. Remus just didn't feel like going out much.

They sat by the fire, backs thrown against the sofa in silence. Rain crashed against the windows and lightening fought through the thick clouds. They both watched it from behind tired eyes. Remus's book hanging open on his lap. Sirius's parchment discarded on the floor.

"I'm sorry," he said, suddenly, and Remus closed his eyes. He couldn't look at him.

"I'm sorry," Sirius repeated and they both sighed.

--

"I dont like him," Remus mumbled under his breath, it was just after midnight and Sirius was sitting cross-legged on his bed, holding his breath.

"I want to fall in love with him," he'd whispered and Remus had paled.

"I don't like him," he repeated a little louder and an odd expression flushed behind Sirius's eyes before he nodded, just barely.

"Okay," he said, "Okay."

--

Nobody spoke much over the next few weeks. Remus found himself in the library more often than not to avoid the awkwardness pushing itself between them. He felt guilty. He felt horribly guilty. Even if he hadn't asked Sirius to break up with them for him - he'd still done it. But mostly he just felt jealous. A seething feeling attacking the pit of his stomach and his fingertips. Turning to fire, to tingles, to shivers, with one little touch. A brush of shoulders. A nudge in the right place. And he hid. He ran.

Sirius found him, everytime. Walking up behind him between stacks of books, picking the top one off the pile and whispering between the pages, "I can't stop running from you."

Remus would still and the room would turn miraculously quiet with only the shrill hiss of paper fluttering in the breeze.

"Me too," he'd think, but he wouldn't answer. He never answered. And he wondered if Sirius would eventually give up. But he turned up there, everyday, with the same sad eyes and plastered smile.

"I miss you," Remus had whispered once, in the dark, but the next time he turned around, Sirius was gone.

--

It was the day before the Christmas holidays and everyone was packing trunks and piling presents up, wrapped brightly in satin ribbons and loud paper. It was snowing, in between moments at least, and the bright sun would shiver through the white sky to choruses of disappointment.

Remus's mother was expecting him at the station with the others. Sirius's mother couldn't care less but there would be somebody there anyway for Regulus, he was sure. The two of them were the last in the room, the last to shove clothes onto beds and into cases.

"It's Christmas," Sirius smiled, turning across the room to look at him. And remus's eyes widened in confusion and a little chuckle.

"Yes, that's the general idea of all the trees," he replied. But Sirius didn't say anything.

"It's Christmas," he whispered again, when the lights started to die down as dark grey filled up the sky outside, "And I really am sorry."

"Maybe we should stop running," Remus added slowly, his voice falling over itself to keep words inside his mouth. Inside his head. Inside his heart. He smiled. He almost smiled. And Sirius approached him carefully, knotting his fingers in Remus's as his chest rose and fell with heavy shudders.

He leaned in, stumbling over photographs and papers on the floor, his breath making Remus's lips arch up, stinging.

"I can't," he whispered as they came crashing together, time and time again, to aching teeth.

--

It was Christmas day when they woke up, curled around one another inside heavy drapes.

"I think maybe you were right," Sirius mumbled into Remus's neck, still half asleep.

They both smiled, skin to skin, heartbeats pushed together before the dim light outside.

And none of the others mattered anymore.

He'd always come back.

Always.