Doctor Strange One Shots

For One Night Only - Part 1

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CONTEXT: Deciding to, for once, attend one of the Avengers' famous parties, Stephen finds himself encountering someone from his past. Not wanting to look lonely, he elicits the help of one of the team members he trusts, unknowingly sending them along quite the show.

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The top floor of Avengers Tower was alive tonight.

Champagne flutes, wine glasses, beer bottles clinking, the satisfying hum of everyone chatting and mingling their night away, the glamorous but not over-the-top outfits shining through the crowds.

Of course, tonight was one of the tower's well-known parties. Or, to be exact, one of Stark's famous parties.

"You always know how to throw a party, Stark."

The billionaire approached the sorcerer supreme, his eyes pleasantly glancing over the well-pressed and put-together suit, noting the effort Strange put into his outfit, causing a surprised but cheeky brow raise.

"Why thank you, Wizard, I'm surprised you even showed up."

Tony found his place against the bar next to Stephen, both men leaning against the counter, eyes glancing over the room and the buzz that seemed to emanate from all the bodies mingling.

"Yeah, well, it's either this or having to deal with hearing you complain about my absence for the next week."

The two men shared a light chuckle before Stark's eyes found a passing waitress, her hands carefully carrying a tray full of newly refilled champagne flutes. And just as the woman was about to walk completely past, Tony reached out and delicately plucked two off, handing one over to Strange. Their glasses shared a gentle tap before indulging in the crisp pale liquid.

"So," Stephen spoke, feeling newly refreshed after his sip, "how long am I obliged to be here?"

Tony lowered his flute from his lips as he felt a smirk line them, a breathy chuckle escaping, "Long enough for us to see you get drunk this time."

Stephen chanced a glance towards the host, a brow raised at his comment, seeing him take another large 'sip', his flute almost  completely empty by this point.

"Yeah, no, that's not happening."

Stark frowned, "Aw," before his eyes roamed the room once more, his gaze beginning to register the members of the team that attended tonight with a plus one, "Why? Got a certain someone you're trying to impress?"

But Stark's attention quickly snapped back to Strange, hearing him choke on his drink. And before he knew it, he was smirking at the sorcerer's unamused expression.

"Did I say something... wrong?"

But Stephen simply rolled his eyes, his dismissive reaction unknowingly prompting Stark to question said reaction, wondering if there was something a little more to it. But as his mind started to wonder about the possibilities of Strange's insecurities, his eyes roamed, a satisfying grin appearing upon his face once he registered everyone's attire.

"Everyone's dressed to the 10s tonight." He brought his hand up to his chest, heartfelt, "I feel like a proud parent."

Stephen followed Stark's gaze, slowly beginning to nod in agreement.

"I can see that." The sorcerer smiled softly, raising his flute to his lips for another sip. "But I think everyone's just scared of being called out by you at one of these things."