Art Deco

sure thing;

pairing- sirius black x shy!reader
warning(s)- tbh, nothing i can think of. let me know if i should add any though!
a/n- just a tiny little fluffy piece :)

your cheeks burn red. you're not sure if it's because you're blowing your lungs out into the rubber balloon or because of the way sirius' arm brushes against your back. he mutters a quick sorry, before he arranges the maroon and gold glasses filled with butterbeers in a proper way.

you tie a little knot on the balloon, tying it up with a bunch of other ones, before you tape it to the wall. sirius was insistent to use muggle ways to decorate the room for james' birthday. he grins, sitting beside you as you gulp down a glass of water.

'need help?' he asks, his knee rubbing against your thigh. you massage your jaw,

'hey! don't fold your legs if you're sitting on the couch!'

'eh, i'm sorry.'

you smile, cracking your knuckles, tucking your lower-lip under your teeth.

'who's bringing the cake?'

'pete, we know he's the greatest baker of us,' he replies, putting his feet on the ground. you acknowledge his words with a nod, trailing little circles on your thigh.

'so do you like the balloons?'

sirius tucks a curl behind his ear, adjusting the tablecloth, 'i love them.'

heat crawls upto your neck and cheeks, setting you ablaze.

*****

you take a sip of butterbeer, the sweetness and the warmth crawling down your esophagus. james slides the fork through the thoroughly whipped cream and the spongy cake. he holds lily's chin, and before placing a chaste kiss on her cheek, he feeds her the cake. she's grinning, so much so, you can't see the bright emerald behind her eyelids.

'happy birthday honey,' she says, wrapping her arms around his body. he snuggles his nose behind her lovely red locks. you can hear the faint whisper of gratitude muffled against her skin.

'evans, you stole my man,' sirius says, popping a biscuit into his mouth.

'oh fuck off you dog,' james replies. sirius places his hand on his left pec in an overdramatic pose,

'that really hurt my feelings you know,'

'aww poor wounded dog,' remus teases, handing james his gift. you can't see what it is, but by the packaging you're half-sure it's one of those hand knitted sweaters. and if it is, you know remus knitted it himself.

sirius pouts, 'you're all traitors,'

'hey, just cause you can't grow a pair and ask her out, doesn't mean they can't shower each other with love,' peter chimes in.

the group falls silent. peter has his finger pointed towards you, his lips parted, cream on his lower lip. his eyes widens, shock hiding behind his rheumy eyes.

'fuck,' sirius curses under his breath. remus has an arrogant smirk on his face. james and lily look too happy, almost as if they'd burst if sirius didn't make the move now. peter looks guilty, yet his eyes hold happiness.

sirius slips his fingers into yours, placing a soft kiss on your hot skin,

'we'll talk about this, yeah?'

his gray eyes search yours, but you're too stunned, too dumb found to speak. it's as if your tongue tied itself into knots. the chairs creak and the group of shenanigans leave. sirius tightens his grip on your hand, trying to get you look at him.

it's barely a whisper that leaves your throat,

'yeah,' you squeeze his hand back.

he smiles, kissing the corner of your mouth.