I have 23 drafts to fix/post. Today is 12/30/19 and i wanna get them all up by the first. Editing spree here I come!
This one's about seven months old and its kinda garbo but enjoy pls

"Thank you guys, thank you," Steve grinned, leaning against his boy- fiancé. The room lit up with a chorus of congratulations and happy birthdays. On the other side of the room stood a man who'd already been asked to be a part of the Rogers-Stark wedding, clapping lightly.

James, as the best man, had helped Steve set up the whole proposal scenario. He was happy, of course, but his best friend tying the knot with the love of his life just made him feel lonely. His eyes scanned the room, grazing over everyone in the room before landing on a blond sat at the bar. He had a bandaid over the bridge of his nose and little purple hearing aids clasped over his ears, his lips pursed as he sipped some fine brown alcohol.

"Hey, man! Thanks so much with this," Steve smiled, clasping a hand over James' shoulder.

"Mm, no problem," He hummed back, taking drink from his beer before pointing a finger towards the blond. "Who's that guy?"

"Oh, Clint? We used to work together. Pretty damn funny, plus him and Nat are best friends and y'know that woman always gets her way," Steve laughed and shifted slightly. "I think he's single, broke up with his girl a few months ago I heard."

"Oh."

"He's bi though."

"God damnit! God, Natasha, you need to stop doing that!" James groaned, training his eyes back on the boy at the bar.

"Go talk to him."

"Steve-"

"C'mon, he's got a nice dick."

"Nat!"

"What? We've been best friends since middle school," Natasha shrugged, excusing herself to refill the Chardonnay she'd been nursing.

"Just go talk to him." Steve gave Bucky a nudge. He in turn downed the rest on his drink and sidled up next to Clint. He tipped his glass to the bar tender, who poured him another bourbon. Clint glanced over him, eyes squinting at the tattoo peaking from the wrist of his sleeve.

"Hello," Bucky smiled lightly, holding his hand out formally. "Name's Barnes. James Barnes."

"Funny." Clint couldn't help but laugh and accepted the shake. "Clint Barton."

"So what's a pretty boy like yourself doing sitting at a bar alone?"

"Well, being a pretty boy, I'm never alone for very long." Clint pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, a practiced move that always elicited the perfect response. James leaned closer and sucked in a chest full of air.

"Oh?"

"I surround myself with prettier friends, like Tony and Natasha." He tags on and James' grin widens.

"So, no special friends?" He asks.

"No." Clint shakes his head and takes a drink. "Not for a while."

"Would you like one?" James adjusts the front of his leather jacket with a shy tug.

"Wow, you sure are forward," Clint laughs. "Is this a special friend for the night or a special friend that turns into a date type friend?"

"I tend to go for the long haul, but which would you prefer?"

"I like to date."

"You'd like to date me?" James asks, leaning on the bar a little more heavily. Clint shifts in his seat and raises an eyebrow but the twitch at the corner of his lip says more. "Well?"

"I'd certainly like to get to know you."

"My place is a ten minute cab away."

"Ten minutes is perfect to get to know someone."

"What I'm hoping for might take a little more than ten minutes," James smirks as he drops two twenties on the bar and grabs for Clint's hand.

"Wait, this is Steve and Tony's party. Won't they be mad if we're not here?" Clint digs his heels in halfway to the door.

"Forget them, they'll have plenty of parties for us to not sneak away at."

"Or?"

"Fine, they'll have plenty of other parties we will sneak away at."

"Sounds good," Clint grins as they stumble through the front door and hail down a cab.