Gryffindor's only... whoever happens to be there
For some reason, Sirius was awake early. Instead of waking Remus with his tossing and turning, he kissed his sleeping boyfriend and rolled out of bed. He padded across the floor of the dormitory and, rubbing his eyes, wandered downstairs to the empty common room.
Empty? Not quite.
There were red and gold roses everywhere.
He blinked a couple of times, then sneezed. He'd always found the perfume of roses to be particularly heady. His mother had liked the blood red ones with the scent that gave him headaches.
These weren't so bad though. He wondered who had done this, and who the recipient was. He knew it wasn't him. Remus knew of his rose aversion.
But, be that as it may, he still plucked four roses from a vase and ran upstairs with them.
He sat on Remus' bed and pulled the petals off of the roses, sprinkling them over Remus' head and neck, then sat back and waited for the werewolf to smell them...