Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel comics or characters or movies, and am making no money off of this fic.
AN: Written for the June 14th Winterhawk Mandatory Fun Day prompt: "Nah. Clint Barton strikes me as a cries-after-he-cums sort of guy. A crymax-er."
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Bring the Party Down by luvsanime02
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Tony Stark doesn't look up, although he knows that Barton's there, of course. Everyone knows that Barton is sitting up there on the beams of the wooden ceiling. Not brooding, obviously. If you asked Barton directly, he'd just say that he's taking in some air, or enjoying the view, or communing with his fellow birds. Basically, excuse after excuse would come out of Barton's mouth, but never the truth.
The truth being that Barnes isn't here yet, and so Barton is pouting because his boyfriend's running late. Tony is fine with that, really. Sometimes, you just feel lonely, and you want your significant other to show up already. So, Tony's not at all upset that Barton's hiding. Except for the part where everyone else is clearly worried about Barton being up in the rafters instead of down there with them, and it's bringing the whole mood of Tony's party down.
He's been trying for the past half an hour to get a rise out of Barton, so that the other man will be forced to join the rest of them in the land down under (ha, good one) and defend his honor, but no luck so far. Barton's been up there long enough that Tony's even getting help from Romanoff now, and that's when you know that Barton's just being petty to be petty and ruin Tony's party. Barton's good at being petty - for any reason at all, as far as Tony can tell.
"He's still being quiet," Romanoff says, and she doesn't even bother to gesture up at Barton crouching like a gargoyle on a beam above them. They all know who she's referring to. "I expected him to say something by now." She looks amused, not worried, but then again, Tony's not sure that she ever looks worried.
Barton's also well-known for being stubborn. Then again, so is Tony. Time to step up the pressure, so to speak. "Well," he says, purposely offhand, "Clint Barton strikes me as a cries-after-he-comes sort of guy. A crymax-er. We just need to play some porn, and he'll break the silent treatment eventually."
"Actually," someone says dryly, and standing right behind Tony, "I'm the crier."
"Good to know," Tony manages, because sometimes his mouth runs on autopilot. Like when he's just had the shit scared out of him and his heart's trying to pound its way out of his chest. Romanoff takes a careful sip from her drink, her expression as cool as always, but she's definitely laughing at him. "Either way, we have your bedroom all soundproofed and ready."
Tony's not even joking. All of the bedrooms are soundproofed, just in case. Neither Barton or Barnes needs to know that it's not just their bedroom, though. Not after annoying and scaring the hell out of Tony, respectively.
"Thanks," Barnes says, because he's never bothered by Tony trying to fuck with him. Which is so very frustrating. Which is probably why Barnes doesn't let himself get upset at anything that Tony says in the first place. "Coming?" he asks.
What. But then Barton finally swings down and lands lightly on the floor, and oh, Barnes was talking to him. And deliberately messing with Tony, from the satisfied smirk on his face. Well, fine then. Tony doesn't care if Barnes is giving him shit as long as Barton starts acting like a person again instead of a vulture.
Of course, since no one cares what Tony wants, Barton immediately starts walking away and Barnes follows, and both of them leave the party. Which everyone else takes as their cue to start leaving, too, until Tony's sitting on a couch with his own bowl of popcorn and his own plate of crab rangoon and a glass of scotch, and he's playing the movie that he wants to watch without any arguments from anybody else, and he's not at all lonely, thanks very much.
Tony really needs better people to hang out with, he laments, and starts texting Barnes and Barton some passive-aggressive and mood-killing messages. Sure, they'll just turn off their phones after the first few, but at least Tony's annoyance will come through loud and clear, and that's enough for him right now.
Tomorrow, though, everyone's hanging out together. Whether they want to or not. That decided, Tony's attention turns back to the movie, and he enjoys eating all of Barton's favorite foods so that the other man can't sneak down in the middle of the night and grab them instead, because Tony can be a petty bitch, too.
He'd also throw out all of the vodka, or try to drink it all by himself, just to annoy Barnes as well, but then Romanoff would kill him, so Tony sticks to messing with Barton. Munching vindictively on another handful of popcorn, Tony props his feet up on the couch and admits to himself that he's glad Barton's no longer moping around. He prefers the other man being annoying to acting sad, though he'll never say so out loud.
Tony settles in for a night of British comedy that he'd never admit to actually liking if questioned by anyone, and decides to brew some decaf first thing in the morning. That'll teach everyone to walk out on one of Tony's parties before he leaves first. The nerve of some people. Well, Tony supposes that this night could have turned out worse. He'll rate it as a success.
After Tony gets his revenge, of course.