Prompt: Bruce takes care of a drunk Natasha. Hilarity, and maybe even some sadness, ensues.
Hopefully (1) this is decent and (2) this cheers some of you up after the absolute catastrophe that was Endgame. This prompt was just delightful.
AO3
Fanfiction
Some Nights
It’s Natasha who finds him first. More accurately, it’s her hand that finds—and pinches—his ass.
An audience consisting of Wanda and Okoye stares at him when he pivots. Each woman holds a black concoction that resembles witches’ brew, and it’s his partner who’s provided the mixture. Among several others at the gathering, Natasha has also fallen victim to her own tincture. Intoxication stares at him through her expanded pupils. Other than that, though, she’s steady on her feet.
His eyebrows elevate toward the ceiling in an act of surprise and jest. He shifts his gaze from Nat to their friends.
“Not my idea,” Wanda defends, sipping black brew to prevent further questioning on the issue of his buttocks.
Okoye, on the other hand, shoots her brows up right back at him.
Any potential duel with her is not one he cares to enter, or inevitably lose. He turns to Natasha. “Having a—”
“Where is your drink?” Okoye cuts in.
“Uh…” Emptiness burns in his palms. “I had a drink.”
“Was it one of these?” Okoye brandished her half empty glass like a piece of damning evidence.
Though caught off guard by this whole exchange, he grins through his sputtering, “N-no, but Nat made me something else.”
“She makes very good drinks.” Wanda says, slipping into a hint of a slur.
The intoxication of others inspires confidence in some. Not him. His uncertainty is a fog, thickened by a whirlwind of factors including, but certainly not limited to, the spectrum of drunkenness before him. For that reason, he flings out the first thing his mouth can manage, “She’s very multitalented.”
Wanda snorts and tries to hide it behind a sip. Okoye, on the other hand, makes no attempt to mask the widening of her eyes, the judgmental drop of her face, the downward tilt of her chin. It’s so apparent he almost doesn’t notice Natasha snickering into the scant space between them. Honestly, he’s not sure what he said to get that reaction or whether he should reply—he’ll probably make it worse.
Maybe detecting this—and probably in search of something more worth her time—Okoye walks away, drink clutched like a gavel. Natasha emerges from his shoulder to lock eyes with Wanda, who gestures vaguely with her glass and says, “I’m gonna go…over there. You two have fun.”
It’s not until after she and Nat exchange smirks and he’s left with his partner that he can piece together a coherent sentence—or, rather, a simple question, “What just happened?”
