What am I doing? Bucky asked himself as he slid into the driver's seat of his car, after holding the passenger side door open for Derrick. He had been trying to give the former Archangel space after the bullshit he had pulled and now here he was voluntarily trapping himself in a car with them. It didn't help at all that they looked stunning tonight, nor that they were wearing some type of perfume that teased his senses. Something light and citrusy.

But he had seen the way Derrick had been slowly deflating all evening the longer they were out of Sanctuary and his old-fashioned chivalrous side took over. He could feel his phone buzz in his pocket. Someone was blowing it up, and he was willing to bet it was either Steve or Sam wanting to know what the hell he was doing.

As he pulled away, he was aware of Derrick looking at their own phone and chuckling. "Sam just sent me an emoji of a little person holding a gun to their head with the caption 'thanks for leaving me with Steve and Michael'. Guess we'll have a lot of making up to do."

Silence descended upon the car and Bucky wondered if Derrick realized what that had sounded like. They cleared their throat then Bucky heard them typing away on their phone. "Who're you messaging?"

"Setting up a time for Tracy and I to talk. This is big and we need to have a conversation." Derrick was quiet for a few moments while Bucky paused at a red light. "'Apologies but I am tied up at this very moment. I will answer you later'," Derrick read with a frown in their voice.

The light turned green, and Bucky drove on while shaking his head. "Wow. Loki doesn't waste time."

"Dimples, you're already responsible for one mental image I will never get out of my head. Please don't plant another one," Derrick chided him as they put their phone away.

"Sorry," Bucky muttered as he was stopped by another red light. "Um...the party was good up until that part. Did you enjoy yourself?"

Derrick seemed surprised by his question. "Oh. Yes, I had a good time. I don't get out much, as you know. I'll pay for it later, but it was fun, so I can't have too many regrets."

While they were waiting for the light to turn, Bucky found himself glancing over at Derrick. Their blond spirals were starting to escape the ponytail they had caught their hair in. They were also nervously picking at the sequins on their tuxes' leg. Bucky had grown up in an era when women just didn't wear pants, but then again Derrick wasn't really a woman and besides they looked really good. They smelled even better.

Stop it, James, he mentally kicked himself as they started to move again. He had lost all rights to have those types of thoughts about Derrick after the way he treated them. Tracy had said he made them cry.

Still, if they were calling him Dimples...maybe things weren't all that bad? Maybe he hadn't messed it up completely? "I thought about asking you to dance," he blurted out, and then couldn't believe he had said that out loud.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Derrick picking at their pants again. "I would've danced," they replied in a soft voice, suddenly sounding shy. That was weird. Derrick was the furthest thing from shy Bucky had ever seen.

Maybe the awkwardness of the situation was getting to them too.

Derrick seemed to mentally shake themselves, as though reminding themselves that they were an unimaginably ancient being and they shouldn't be acting like a teenage girl. And that was just it. Derrick was old. They had been an Archangel and had an eternity of living still ahead of them.

They deserved better than a barely sane centurion with as much blood on his hands as he possessed. A part of Bucky argued that Derrick probably had even more blood on their hands. They had lived an eternity and had been an Archangel, and Bucky had learned that Archangels were not exactly the beacons of light and grace of the Hierarchy. They were killers and had shed untold amounts of blood. But somehow it seemed different.

Derrick had survived a vicious attack from the Beyonder. You didn't do that unless you were very, very tough and someone with that much brass wouldn't exactly be sweetness and rainbows. It was hard though to reconcile the person who had spent years flirting with him with the idea of a winged warrior raising a bloody fist to the sky in victory over a battlefield full of enemies.

Now Bucky was wondering, and not for the first time, what Derrick's wings had looked like before they lost them.

Sigh.

He finally pulled up to the curb outside of Derrick's shop. He quickly got out, ran around the car, and opened Derrick's door before they could do it themselves. Derrick blinked and smirked. "So old-fashioned."

"I can't help it, it's the way I was raised."

Derrick tilted their head. "I like it. I actually miss the days of chivalry and believe we can do with some of those ideals making a comeback. Not all of them, but some."

He walked Derrick to the front door, and that's when they turned around. "Speaking of manners, it'd be rude of me to accept a ride and not invite you in for a drink...you wanna?"

"Sure, okay," Bucky replied, and Derrick opened the door. They walked into the shop smelling of incense, herbs, and old books. Derrick led him to the back, where the entrance to Sanctuary was hidden in a broom closet. He paused at the narrow stairs that had been puzzling him for ages. "I never did ask...where do those stairs lead to?"

"Nowhere."

The response was too quick, and Bucky turned to see the tips of Derrick's ears were red, as were their cheeks. From that reaction, Bucky deduced that it was likely none of his business. But he couldn't help but be curious about anything to do with them.

Derrick opened the broom closet and did their magic to reveal the door in the back. They opened it and stepped into the pocket dimension that held a treasure trove of magical weapons and artifacts from across the multiverse. Sanctuary looked like a huge warehouse with two stories, the upper story holding Derrick's bedroom as well as multiple guestrooms. There were a few hallways that lead away from the warehouse into other adjacent rooms. Bucky hadn't seen all of them, but thanks to Thor disappearing for five days when the god decided to venture into the basement and then returning disheveled and wearing a thousand-yard stare, he knew that there were some rooms he didn't want to see.

Then again, Tracy and Derrick had both gone into the basement and were alright. Maybe whatever was down there only liked angels.

Derrick led him to the kitchen, where they pulled two beers out of the fridge. They handed him one, and popped open the other. "Er, should you be mixing beer with whatever you and Thor were drinking?"

"I'll be fine," Derrick undid the gold safety pins holding their tux jacket together, and then slipped the shiny piece of material off. There was something so intimate about watching them get comfortable, and Bucky could feel pinpricks of sweat tingling on his brow. He sipped his beer, knowing he should look away.

But he couldn't.

It got even worse when Derrick pulled the band keeping their ponytail together and then fluffed their hair out, the spiral curls going everywhere. Derrick really had pretty hair, probably the prettiest Bucky had ever seen.

They really were completely different from any of the women Bucky had ever dated. And he had to remind himself again that they weren't a woman.

He was so busy admiring that hair that he didn't notice Derrick staring at him as well. They immediately blushed and got busy with their beer when they saw that Bucky caught them.

Bucky couldn't let that pass. He tried, but he couldn't. "Listen...I know I already apologized..."

"But you're going to apologize again anyway," Derrick said with an aggravated sigh.

Bucky ignored the interruption. "...but I really am sorry for leading you on and using you to punish myself."

"And I already forgave you for that," Derrick frowned. "You aren't the first, and probably won't be the last, individual I have seen torture themselves with the promise of happiness only to deny themselves as a form of self-flagellation. A good chunk of the mortal belief systems that revere our Father have that as one of their core practices, the idiots."

Bucky hadn't heard the angels talk very much about religion, but the little he had heard them say told him that they didn't approve of most of what the adherents of those religions got up to. This was the first time he had heard one of the angels flat-out call said adherents idiots, and he wasn't surprised it came from Derrick. "I'm still sorry though."

Derrick squirmed. "Well, stop it. I'm over it, you should be too. Why are you bringing this up?"

"Cause I want to make sure I haven't screwed this up beyond repair," Bucky confessed in a low voice.

Derrick stared at him.

"Between Tracy, Nat, and Steve, I realized that deep down inside, I still think I don't deserve anything good in my life. I know intellectually that what I did as the Winter Soldier wasn't really me..."

"It wasn't your fault," Derrick murmured. "None of it was your fault."

"I know that, here..." Bucky pointed at his head. "But I still feel responsible here..." he pointed at his heart "And I think part of me always will. Because of that, and because I was such an asshole to you, I didn't think...I mean, I thought you wanted space..."

"I didn't," Derrick whispered, arms wrapped around their middle. "That was the last thing I wanted."

"That's what everyone else told me too, and when I saw you tonight...out of your comfort zone, clearly weakening but still smiling and determined to have a good time...determined not to let your disability...sorry, I shouldn't call it that..."

Derrick cleared their throat. "It is a disability, as much as that," they nodded towards Bucky's metal arm.

"My point is, you're an inspiration. And you inspired me to stop wallowing in self-pity."

Derrick watched him, those silver eyes taking him in. All of the angels had unusual eyes, but Bucky thought Derrick's were the most beautiful. They were a striking, metallic liquid silver and unlike anything he had ever seen. "I'm tired of being miserable, of making myself miserable," Bucky said softly. "I want to see if I can be happy, and I'm just wondering if it's too late for..."

Derrick hadn't just kept their senses from the time they were an angel. They had kept a tiny portion of the strength and speed as well, as evidenced by the way Bucky suddenly found himself pinned to the fridge door, Derrick pressed against him as their lips massaged his.

His surprise gave way to eagerness, and he wrapped his hands around their upper arms and returned the kiss with interest.

He had started to weave his fingers through that gorgeous hair when Derrick slowly broke the kiss and stepped back. "I have a confession to make."

Bucky was caught off guard and blinked at Derrick. "A confession?"

"Those stairs you were asking about? They lead up to a studio apartment."

Bucky thought about it. "Why did you blush so much then when I ask—oh. You mean you use it for..."

Derrick nodded. "I don't bring dates and one-night stands into Sanctuary, so when I had it create that shop for me, I also had it create the loft so I could have my...liaisons...without risking anything in here."

Bucky was confused. "Why are you telling me this?"

Derrick smiled. "Looks like I'll have to find another use for the space."

Bucky smiled back. "Damn right. Does this mean you're inviting me..."

"To my bedroom, yes. And I have never invited anyone there."

Bucky leaned in to kiss Derrick again. "I'm honored. But not tonight. I can still taste the booze in your mouth, and I'm a gentleman who doesn't take advantage of drunk...er..."

"You can call me a lady. I know this whole pronoun and fluid thing is a minefield for you, but I honestly don't mind being called a she or a lady, especially when I'm in this body. I'll never take offense, because I know you don't mean it. Besides, I'm way too old to sweat the little things like that."

Bucky tilted their chin up. "I'll keep that in mind, and so I really will treat you like a lady and save the physical stuff for...third date maybe? Or longer? I'd like to take it slow."

"Not too slow," Derrick's silver eyes were wide with horror.

Bucky burst out laughing. "Alright," he leaned in and let his breath play over their ear. "With that in mind, I'll be glad to give you a preview of what to expect." He felt delighted when Derrick shivered. He responded by placing a kiss on the side of their neck, right on the pulse point.

Derrick's hands were in his hair, and they moaned as he kissed their neck even more, then turned them around so that now their back was against the fridge door. Bucky claimed their lips again as Derrick arched their back, pressing their breasts against his chest. He kissed them more and allowed his hands to explore her curves, feel the soft skin covering muscle hardened by eons of fighting more battles than he could ever imagine.

Their hands were opening the buttons on his shirt, and one slid inside to feel his own skin, explore the muscles and flesh with an avaricious glee. Bucky kissed their neck again before allowing his hands to wander down, down until his hands squeezed their thighs.

Derrick moaned and allowed their legs to part, giving Bucky more room and access. Even though it had been a very long time for him, Bucky was still able to find their clit easily and he lazily thumbed it through the pants Derrick had on. Hmmm, no panties. Somehow, he wasn't surprised.

Derrick let out a loud gasp, their hands flat on Bucky's chest as their silver eyes gazed into his. Bucky didn't look away from Derrick at all as he continued to strumb on their clit before pressing in harder and starting to rub. "Oh shit," Derrick moaned, their head falling back, blonde spiral curls cascading down their back as they bared their throat. Bucky took advantage and leaned in to kiss it.

"Look at me," Bucky breathed, and Derrick brought their head back up to gaze into his eyes once again. He rubbed them harder, rubbing the bundle of nerves in circles, staring into those hypnotic eyes as Derrick's lips parted and they began panting.

"Fuck...oh, it's been so long..."

Bucky raised a brow at that. "What kind of people have you been sleeping with?!"

"Never mind them, they were all assholes, I'd rather not...OH!"

Derrick's body was tensing, and Bucky rubbed harder. Then they cried out and clung to him as Bucky brought them to climax.

He brought them down carefully before he wrapped his arms around their body. He stroked their hair while they caught their breath. "That..." Derrick panted. "...was just a preview?!"

Bucky smiled and kissed their forehead. "If you want the full feature, lay off the booze."

"I'm not that drunk, and I seriously doubt I will regret anything we did when I fully sober up," Derrick wrapped their arms around his waist and leaned their head on his shoulder. "I like to drink so I can't promise I'll be a complete teetotaler, but I'll be sure not to do shots with a Norse god next time."

"I know you like to drink, and swear, and eat junk food, and I wouldn't have you any other way," Bucky kissed her forehead again. "And that date'll be soon, maybe...next Friday?"

Derrick gave him a bright smile. "It's a date, Dimples."