InsaneJournal

WHO: Rosa Diaz and Sirius Black
WHEN: Backdated to Sirius' birthday
WHERE: Sirius' place
WHAT: Rosa spends the night and wakes up to find out it's Sirius' birthday
WARNING(S): They had a one-night stand, but there's no sex in thread



Rosa had been awake early, on her way out the door. She had planned on skipping out on the morning awkwardness, or worse still, the potential for feelings over breakfast. Except there were people at the door, and they were carrying birthday cake, and she hadn’t gotten her pants on yet because she was carrying Arlo under one arm.

“He’s sleeping,” she heard herself saying, glowering at them just because she felt awkward. “But I’ll, uh - make sure he gets it.”

Damn it. So much for making her getaway.

She set Arlo down, took the cake from them, and closed the door; she heard the sound of murmured conversation and muffled laughter, but at least there were also footsteps moving away. She didn’t have to endure an awkward breakfast and meeting the family.

Setting the cake on the table, she went back into the bedroom and nudged Sirius’ sleeping form with her foot. “Hey. Get up, birthday boy. Or I’m going to eat your whole cake.”

--

He had been nervous, which was weird for him. He had never been nervous about sex before, because sex had always just come fairly naturally for him. He enjoyed. His partners seemed to enjoy it. A good time was had by all.

But that was before Azkaban, which had rather prematurely aged him. He still couldn’t quite shake the way Remus had looked at him when he had first arrived -- which wasn’t him at his worst. He was still uncomfortable in his human skin in many ways. But he was comfortable with Rosa, and he knew that this wasn’t likely to turn into a serious thing. So, that seemed to make it all okay somehow. He did it with the same attitude he did most things with now: fake bravado.

But he’d enjoyed himself too. And forgotten to be nervous entirely by the time they reached the park of the evening that was meant lounging naked while eating greasy pizza in his bed. So, he wasn’t thinking about when he fell asleep next to her.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting for the morning after. But having the incentive of birthday cake wasn’t a bad one.

“There’s cake?” he asked muzzily, pushing his hair out of his face.

...

“Your - uh - friends brought it over.”

Without waiting for a response, Rosa turned around and headed back to the table. Her pants were still in her hands; she reached into the pocket of them and pulled out her knife, then tossed the pants in the direction of the door. Her jacket (with her bra stuffed into one of the pockets) followed suit shortly after. Apparently she was spending at least some of the morning here, so she wasn’t going to need those anytime soon. Clad only in her shirt and underwear, Arlo playing around her feet, she sat down at the table, flicked open her knife, and cut herself a piece of cake.

When she heard Sirius enter the room, she spoke without turning around, her tone vaguely accusing (and slightly muffled by a mouthful of cake). “You didn’t tell me it was your birthday.”

--

By friends, Sirius could only assume that she meant Remus and Harry. Vaguely, he wondered which had been more embarrassed by encountering Rosa. Probably Remus, he gathered. But he figured this made them about evening after his early escapades with Felix.

He hauled his boxers back on and padded out to where she was slicing up the cake. He suppressed a grin at the sight of her knife.

He shrugged at her assertion. In truth, it was a bit odd because it was a birthday he would never see at home. He was now -- kind of -- older than he would actually ever live to be in his home world. He didn’t know if he should be depressed or cheered.

“I think we’re spending my birthday the way I would have wanted it to go,” he announced, taking a seat and starting to dig into the cake with a fork.

…

“Good,” Rosa said, although she wasn’t sure that she entirely thought it was good. This felt like it meant something other than what she’d intended, because it had happened on his birthday, even if it was only because she’d ended up staying for breakfast.

But breakfast was cake and he hadn’t gotten too mushy on her yet, so it wasn’t too bad so far. She could always escape later if it got worse.

“So how old are you, anyway?” she asked conversationally, instead of letting him continue along the vein of exactly how they’d spent the night before his birthday. “For all I know, you’ve got grey hair and wrinkles that you’re hiding with all that magic and shit.”

--

He had never been touchy about his age before, but now he was concerned about whatever she had perceived his age to be. He couldn’t really tell how old he looked now. He had rose out his teenage years completely aware of just how good looking he was. Now, he knew he looked older than he was, but he also knew he didn’t look as bad as when he’d come out of Azkaban.

“Thirty-seven,” Sirius answered.

A bizarre number, if only, when he was in his early twenties, it seemed impossibly old. But still too young to die, no matter how he was judging things. He didn’t know what he’d thought he’d be at thirty-seven. He hadn’t planned that far ahead, but he would have thought it would have involved embarrassing James’ children at least. Now he knew neither he, nor James, would ever live to see thirty-seven.
…

Rosa looked him over, and her mouth twitched in a slight smile. “Hm. Not bad.”

Whether she meant the age itself or the way he’d aged (or the way he’d covered it up) was unclear, and she didn’t bother to elaborate. But the small smile remained until she took another bite of cake, and then disappeared as she chewed. “Cake’s not bad, either.”

--

It was such a stereotypically her answer that he couldn’t but let out a bark laughter. He was a little worried that he was going to scare her off by accidentally trapped her here with him on his birthday. He hadn’t picked up the vibe that she was a relationship type of girl, but then, that wasn’t exactly what he was looking for right now. He liked what they had, and he didn’t want to mess it up.

“Want me to take Arlo for a walk so you can get ready to head out?” he asked.

…

“No, you sit and eat your cake.” Rosa finished off her piece, and got to her feet, reaching for her pants. She pulled them on, rather gracefully, and then pulled on her jacket as well. She didn’t bother with her bra, still stuffed into her pocket. She picked up her puppy from the floor, floppy and squirmy with early morning energy, and then - after a moment’s hesitation - she reached over and ruffled Sirius’s hair. “Happy birthday. You got laid, you’re welcome.”

She gave him a smug grin, and then turned toward the door. He’d offered her a way out, and she was going to take it, because otherwise things would get weird.

--