best-laid birthday plans
pairing: newt scamander/credence barebone
word count: 661
for the @hogwartsonline february quidditch // newt scamander’s birthday (feb 24)
Admittedly, Credence has never planned a birthday party before.
His friend Queenie, who he has a History of Art seminar with, agrees to help him: they have about three or four hours post-tutorial, depending on which bus Newt manages to catch after his last lecture, and three or four hours to assemble their master plan doesn’t feel like enough once they start actually putting up the decorations. There’s a banner, and a whole host of balloons for them to blow up and spend twenty minutes pelting at each other, and bunting, and more decorations that Credence has never heard of that Queenie has bought. Far too long is also spent deciding what sort of pizza they should get, what side, what dessert, from where. Newt lives the simple life, cooks almost all of his own food save the occasional microwave macaroni, and so it’s hard to discern what he likes.
He does know, however, that Newt loves vanilla sponge and buttercream, and so with money scraped together from his part-time job at a local café, he’s commissioned a cake for Newt with flower designs in buttercream and dragons made out of fondant. He and Queenie picked it up on the way home, but it lies to Credence to set it up on their coffee table. It’s a nerve-wracking job, and he decorates around it with Newt’s presents, wrapped with love and care and ribbons. He took in a delivery from Theseus, too. Newt is taking the train to see his parents at the weekend, but Theseus is doing his postgraduate at Cambridge, and apparently can’t afford the train fare to see his baby brother: but he’s been Skyping Newt all week instead.
“That is a beautiful centerpiece,” Queenie declares when Credence finishes, squeezing his shoulder lightly for a moment. “You really like him, huh? To do all this stuff for him.”
“I do,” Credence says softly, staring out at the room, brightly ablaze with birthday décor. He pauses, pulling at his sleeves. “We’ve been living together since first year. He’s never celebrated his birthday, I thought… I thought he deserved something.”
“He’s going to love it,” Queenie assures him. Credence smiles.
Newt arrives a handy five minutes after the pizza, entering the house in his usual flurry of coat-shedding, placing his bag beside the door. It takes him a moment to break from his spell to notice the decorations, and Credence waiting anxiously in the centre of the room, hands behind his back, waiting until Newt tugs his earphones out to say “happy birthday” and hug him. Newt is still no good at hugs, but smiles, putting his arms back around Credence.
He’s never had anyone do so much for his birthday before, not since he was young. Newt usually studiously avoids the topic of his birthday, not wanting the fuss: but he’s pleasantly surprised by Credence’s effort, at the idea that he cares about Newt so much he’d set a little birthday party up for him.
“This is amazing,” Newt says. “Thank you, Credence.”
“I know I got a lot of pizza,” Credence says quickly, “but we can save some of the food and keep it in the microwave and have it for lunch and dinner tomorrow. And there’s lots of cake but maybe we could have some friends over sometime or take it to a seminar or…”
“It’s okay. We’ll sort that out later.” Newt smiles, placing an arm around Credence’s waist and curving in to kiss him. Honestly, he thinks he could probably eat a fair amount of pizza now; it’s been a long day, and he’s tired, and there’s nothing more he’d rather do than curl up on the couch with a nice dinner and cake. And avoid his reading.
He makes his way to the settee, but stops when Credence says “Newt”, turning around.
Credence shifts up and kisses him.
Newt’s pretty sure he couldn’t have asked for a better birthday.