If there was one thing you truly hated, it was being called into work on an off day. Being a bartender had it perks but right now was not one of them. Since it was a holiday, most of your co-workers had called out and your boss almost blew a gasket. You knew you needed the extra money so here you were, on a Monday night, freezing in your thin, black turtleneck while mixing liquor for all the poor souls that made their way to the bar.
Multiple conversations and arguments began to bleed into each other over time. Some about women, Some about the 9 to 5 jobs they despised with their entire being. Everyday it was the same thing. You must have been zoning out for a while, seeing as a man had snapped his fingers in front of your face.
“Hello?”
Right. You weren’t getting paid to stand here and do nothing. The glass you were cleaning suddenly slipped from your grip but the man in front of you caught it just in time. You had to pay more attention or this would be coming out of your paycheck.
“Sorry about that, I….” Your sentence was cut short as soon as your eyes met his. He wasn’t a model but he damn sure could pass for one. In front of you sat a hulking, Hispanic man with cheekbones that could cut glass. Never in your life had you seen a man that breathtaking. Oh shit. You were probably staring for a while.
Try to not look awkward.
“Uh, anything you’d like to drink tonight?” You noticed he seemed a little out of it himself. His body was stiff and eyes filled with heavy emotions you had yet to experience.
“Tequila.” His voice cold. You gave a swift nod and began searching the shelves for the liquor. He watched from behind as you carefully poured it into a shot glass.
Curiosity filled your mind, however you didn’t want to be intrusive. You handed him his drink and he thanked you before downing it and returning it to the counter. He must have a strong alcohol tolerance. The man reached into his coat pocket and handed you a credit card.
“On your tab?” You responded. He nodded quickly and scooted closed towards the counter.
“I’d like two more if that’s not an issue for you.” He spoke in softer , comforting tone.
“It’s no problem at all…” You took a quick look at his card before looking up at him.
“Miguel is a wonderful name.”
A smirk threatened to pull at his lips but he fought it and wore a nonchalant expression instead. “Thank you.” His hands fidgeted with hair at the back of his neck as he waited patiently.
God was he going to regret this.
“And you?”
Heat rushed to your face as you continued pouring the shots. “Y/N.”
He nodded, slowly letting the words roll off of his tongue. “Y/N……that’s a beautiful name.”
You both stare at each other for a few seconds before ending the awkward silence with a cough. The alcohol must be getting to his brain.
“Here you are.” The shots are laid gently on a tray before him as he thanks you once again.
He takes another sip of one of the shots and lets out a heavy sigh. The curiosity is killing you, so you let your mouth guide you on this one.
Bad idea.
“May I ask what the occasion is?”
Terrible, terrible idea.
The change of the atmosphere sends shivers down your spine. Miguel stares at the ground with nothing but pain in his eyes. Was it something you said?
“My daughter.” He stops himself, eyes trailing up the walls of the bar before taking in a deep breath.
“She…..I……I lost her. A few years ago today.” His stomach sinks at the mention of Gabriella. Guilt and anger take hold of him. Tears begin pricking at the corners of his eyes as he turns his head, terrified of you seeing him like this.
Your jaw almost flies open at his words. Nice going Y/N. If only you had listened to your brain. Fumbling over what to do next, you offer your condolences. “Jesus…, I’m sorry I asked.”
“Don’t be. You had no part in it.” He reassures you.
Seeing as the shots have been consumed , you clean them and place them with the other glasses. Miguel looks sluggish, his eyes slowly flickering between you and the floor.
“She was taken from me. And I just…..sat there and did nothing.” He muttered through clenched teeth. His body tensed up again like earlier, painful memories flashing through his mind.
Miguel had never been one to accept his loss. Every night he thought about what he should’ve, could’ve and would’ve done to change Gabriella’s fate. Insomnia would creep into his mind, preventing him from getting a good night's sleep until he thought about her.
He’s a complete stranger. But your heart tells you to comfort him and so you do. You gently slide your hand on top of his, letting him know that he doesn’t have to mourn alone.
“I wasn’t there, but you need to give yourself a break. I’m sure she’d hate to see you in such pain. It couldn’t have been all your fault.” Your voice was barely a whisper.
Not even a few seconds after, his lips trembled, tears flowing from his eyes like a river. He made no sound, only sniffling as he stared at the ground. Luckily, the restaurant was almost empty, seeing as it was almost 3 in the morning .
“Oh god, uh—here.” You shoved a tissue box in front of his face. His hands took the entire box as he kept wiping his face furiously.
Those feelings must have been pent up for a while. He never let anyone see beyond his hard exterior, after all. To the Spider Society, he was the cold, distant Spider-Man 2099. But to you, he was Miguel.
“Would you like a hug, maybe…?” You blurted out with a hint of nervousness in your voice. Miguel collects himself and tosses the crumpled tissues in a garbage can near him.
He nods, slowly getting up and buttoning his winter coat. “I should get going. The snow is gonna be hell to walk through.”
Your heart begins hammering against your rib cage, making you nervous. Stepping out from behind the counter, you stand in front of him. This guy has got to be nearing 6 feet.
Your hands stretch out awkwardly as you get closer and wrap them around his back. He does the same, except his hands rest just above your waistline. This man just talked about his dead daughter and now your mind was secretly begging him to move his hands just a little lower. Those fantasies would have to wait until later.
One of his hands moved upwards to caress your head as Miguel muttered a small “thank you” into your ear. Your eyes shot open at the sudden heat of his breath against your skin.
“It’s nothing. Here you go.” You slid his card back into the same pocket he took it out of earlier.
Miguel backed away from you as you began to pull away from the embrace. He bids you farewell and pushes the door open slightly.
You happen to see him while you take the empty glasses from the tables. “Something wrong, big guy?”
His cheeks turn pink at the nickname.
“Nothing. Have a good night, Y/N.” Miguel turns quickly and exits the restaurant, running off to god knows where. Unbeknownst to you, he wore his signature suit thanks to the help of a certain AI girl and began swinging through the streets of New York City.
You sat there in silence, hoping he’d come back someday. The sound of the clock striking 4 was a wake-up call.
Miguel had been the last customer of the night, technically morning , so you were left all alone. It wasn’t all bad since you were able to close up shop.
You switched all the lights off, cleaned the tables and locked the restaurant from the outside. It was absolutely freezing outside, so you decided to get a taxi.
As you sat in the backseat, all that ran through your mind was your encounter with the man from earlier. It’s been months since you’ve been this interested in someone.
Once back home in his dimension, Miguel reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the credit card. He looked closer and noticed a scribble on the back. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he realized what it was.
Your number.
“Clever girl.” He muttered before noticing a golden hologram hovering over his shoulder.
“What? You’re finally getting bitches, let me be happy for you!” She folded her arms.
He sent a cold glare her way before swatting her away like a fly. “Cállate.”
Lyla rolled her eyes, disappearing into thin air.
He didn’t know when he’d see you again, but he’d make sure it was soon since he had gotten used to your sweet voice.
And if he didn’t, Lyla would tease him until he unplugged her.
That night, Miguel went to sleep without any trouble.