Sirius never realized how much he liked being told what to do until he pushed Remus too far. He had spent six years thinking he liked being in charge, especially since his family spent his whole life telling him what he was or wasn't supposed to do.
Until today. Sirius won't stop poking at Remus or stealing his quills. Remus finally stands up, his shadow looming over Sirius, and just grabs him. He shoves Sirius back into his chair with a hand flat against his chest. He pins him there with a strength that makes Sirius’s breath catch in his throat.
"Sit," Remus commands, his voice low and vibrating. "And stay."
Sirius looks up, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He looks at Remus's hand on his chest and then back into those golden-brown eyes. The annoyance he was feeling vanishes, replaced by a desperate, aching need.
"Okay," Sirius whispers, his voice sounding wrecked.
Sirius realizes then that he would let Remus pin him to any surface in the castle. That isn't what he's supposed to feel for his best friend, is it?
Oh fuck, he thinks, his head spinning. I’m in so much trouble.
