๐๐ค๐ก๐ก๐ฎ ๐ ๐ค๐ก๐ก๐ฎ ๐พ๐๐ง๐๐จ๐ฉ๐ข๐๐จ
Every year on the 15th of December, Tony Stark had his Christmas party. And ever since you became an Avenger in 2012, your attendance to said party had become mandatory.
You genuinely had to die to get out of going. You hadnโt ever really disliked this party until 2014. When everything in your life basically began to crash and burn.
You leaned against the railing, watching the party from above. You sipped on a whiskey, the burning sensation distracting you from your misery.
โI knew heโd be quick to move on, but I didnโt know heโd have a fuckinโ marriage.โ You grumbled bitterly, as Kate Bishop walked up beside you. She had a black suit on, and she looked pretty damn good.
You werenโt interested in her like that, she was twenty two and you were well into your thirties, soon to be forties. It wasnโt the worst age gap, but it didnโt feel right for you.
โAt least heโs happy?โ She tried to inspire some kind of enthusiasm in you.
You just huffed out a laugh.
It wasnโt hard to identify the Avengers in the crowds; Bucky and Sam were obviously flirting with each other yet were somehow oblivious to it in the corner, Steve and Nat were having a drinking competition, Thor was entertaining a crowd of young women, and everyone else was off doing other time-wasting bullshit.
โHe has kids, too.โ Kate said after a moment.
โGee, thanks for reminding me. Canโt believe I forgot.โ You looked down in your glass, swirling the liquid around before taking a drink.
โSorry.โ She muttered.
โWhy are you wasting time up here, with me? Donโt you have Natโs sister to flirt with?โ
โWhat? Noโshe doesnโt look at me like that. I meanโI donโt think she doesโdo you think she does?โI kinda hope she doesโdoes she?โ She sputtered out.
โโฆRight. Anyway, youโre too young to be hiding on a balcony at an infamous Stark Party. Go have fun.โ You glanced at her, proving your earnestness.
โYouโre sure?โ She blinked at you.
โGo, Bishop. Have fun.โ
She smiled, before walking to the staircase that lead down to the main party floor. You watched her go, before going back to your people-watching.
โA wife.โ You muttered darkly, grumbling to yourself. โI bet he doesnโt even treat her right. I could do better, and I donโt even have one wife.โ
You glared daggers at the woman. Lauren. Lylah? Lorelei? Lafayette? Something like that.
She was laughing, sipping on a glass of champagne. You scowled at the sight. She was clearly a few years younger than the two of you.
Once your whiskey glass emptied, you realized you had to walk back down to the main floor to get another.
And so you did, attempting to avoid any type of social interaction. And you made it all the way to the bar before you made a terrible timing mistake.
Standing right beside you was your ex-boyfriend, dressed in a leather jacket and a shirt, paired with a belt and some jeans. They were nice clothes, so that he didnโt look out of place at the fancy party.
โL/n,โ he coughed awkwardly.
โBarton.โ You replied, your tone short and clipped.
You stood together in awkward silence for a few moments as you waited for your own respective drinks.
โItโs good to see you,โ he said after a moment, โyou look good.โ
โMm. You donโt look so bad yourself.โ You said, just to be polite.
You got your drink first. โBe a dear and do me a favor?โ You glanced at him.
โYeah?โ He nodded his head, quite eagerly.
โKiss her once for me. Make it passionate; prove you didnโt use all your good ones on me.โ You walked away, the sound of your shoes hitting the floor being the only noise you could focus on.
He didnโt call out for you, nor could you hear him say anything afterward.
Later that evening, you watched as he kissed her gently on the lips under the mistletoe. You laughed drily, taking another swig of whiskey. Maybe he had no more good ones left.