While capturing these images initially, I had it in mind to create two separate posts featuring these 2 species of insects. That's usually how it goes: an insect is found, and its images are showcased proudly with a bit of text highlighting notable features, behaviors, or something that happened as the pictures were taken. However, a shift over the last few years on this blog has resulted in more combination posts that feature 2 insects in order to highlight similarities or differences between them. In this case, we continue on from a previous post with these insects and get both types of highlights while leaning more towards the similarities. Particularly as the species shown in today's post are sorted into the same genus (Isodontia) and both were found within the same location among a forest of blooming goldenrod. Before diving in, let's have a quick refresher in order to distinguish between the two Wasps found here. Firstly, the individual with dark-colored wings and legs featuring a prominent brown-coloration is a Brown-Legged Grass-Carrying Wasp (Isodontia auripes), while the overall smaller individual with all-black legs and smoky wings is a Mexican Grass-Carrying Wasp (Isodontia mexicana). An examination of their bodies is the best way to successfully identify these solitary Wasps as the color of their wings can vary. As well, in flight you might see one carrying a blade of grass or insect prey in the form of a Katydid or similar insect.
Following up from the prior post featuring both of these species, additional information has also come to light which is of great importance when it comes to identification. The dark body and brown coloration of the legs of I. auripes are notable among North American Grass-Carrying Wasps, but such characteristics can be common in species from other families. For example, Wasps such as the Katydid Wasp (Sphex nudus) and Wasps within the Podium genus have a strong superficial resemblance. For a while, I was even convinced that I misidentified these individuals, but Sphex Wasps tend to have a unique look to them with a shorter waist, and Podium Wasps appear more slender with larger mandibles for transporting prey. Grass-Carrying Wasps are no slouches when it comes to moving prey themselves once the adults emerge during the summer months. Despite their dainty form, they can firmly grip a stung Orthopteran and transport it to their brood chamber tubes concealed by grass. The adult Wasps will feed on pollen or nectar, and that usually means coming into close proximity with other flower-loving insects (of which there are quite a few among the goldenrod flowers here). In case of a confrontation, both of these Wasps may be more likely to flee against larger aggressors but can bite and sting if they need to. While it's best to air on the side of caution, if their sting would be painful, a species of Grass-Carrying Wasps would have received a caution in the Schmidt Pain Index, but I cannot confirm. As such, it's best to leave them - that to say both species - be while navigate flowers and simultaneously collect food for themselves (and/or larvae) and carry out pollination.
Pictures of both the I. auripes and I. mexicana Wasps were taken on August 20, 2023 with a Google Pixel 4. In addition (for clarity), while the sting of both these Wasps contains compounds which paralyze Orthopterans for transport, the effects are unlikely to be severe in humans unless one is allergic to Wasp venom. Their bite is definitely not venomous.
Bucky actually despises taking the cheating spouse jobs. He hates that people are so desperate for proof that their spouse is cheating on them so they could get out of their prenup—because it’s always someone rich enough to need a prenup—and he hates that there’s no trust in relationships anymore and he hates the way the people who ask him to do jobs like this always look down on him.
But money is money and Bucky doesn’t have a lot of it so he always takes the job because bills don’t care about your moral standards.
Doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it though.
And he’s not. He always calls Nat or Stevie during the long vigils so he can complain about these stupid jobs and how ridiculous they are and did you know that not only is Senator Johnson cheating but he’s cheating with one of the male interns working on his reelection campaign and that’s just gross and a massive abuse of power. And Nat or Steve always act like they’d be patting his hand if they were there with him. Nat always reminds him that these jobs are worth it so he can take the jobs that actually mean something and Stevie always spends a few minutes ranting about the state of political corruption in this country and how it’s going to hell in a handbasket. Bucky likes those rants. They make him feel better.
Problem is, this latest cheating spouse case? He’s pretty sure it’s not a cheating spouse.
Tiberius Stone, CEO of Viastone, has been married to his spouse for the last five years and recently set his eye on a pretty young socialite who aspires to be an actress, go figure. So now, of course, he wants out of his marriage but the problem is that his spouse, one Anthony Stark, is a ruthless son of a bitch who managed to trick Stone into a prenup that’ll wipe him of all he’s worth if Stone breaks off the marriage for anything less than infidelity.
Bucky got a look at the prenup when he was doing research for this case. The thing is vicious and blatant enough that when he’d read through it, he had kind of wondered if Anthony Stark—with his pretty doe eyes and wicked smile—had been sucking Stone’s cock when he got him to sign.
Fortunately for Stone, Anthony Stark has been mysteriously leaving the house late at night and early in the morning and shaking off every other tail that Stone has put on him, hence the private detective.
Bucky prides himself on being the best private detective in the entire state of New York (with the exception of Miss Jones, who somehow manages to be twice as good as him while permanently drunk) so it’s easy peasy for him to stake out the mansion for a few days before he spots Stark leaving the house one early morning with an oversized suitcase and a squirrely look about him before getting in his car and backing down the driveway.
He grins to himself and settles back to wait. He doesn’t need to do what other PI’s do and follow the guy at a respectable distance because he’s got something better: a tracker, stolen from his time with the army and discretely placed on the underside of Stark’s car.
Except Stark gets halfway down the driveway and then stops, gets out of the car, kneels down, and fishes around underneath the car until he finds what looks like Bucky’s tracker. He flips it over, pulls a tiny screwdriver out of his pocket and fiddles with it for a moment before sticking it back on the car.
That’s…weird.
Bucky watches him pull out of the driveway and drive off and then checks the GPS on his phone to see where the tracker is going. And that’s when he realizes that Anthony Stark is going in the opposite direction that the tracker is claiming.
“Fuck!” he exclaims, scrambling for his car.
He’s certain that Stark must know he’s behind him if he’s beaten every other PI Stone has sent after him. But Stark doesn’t bother backtracking or trying to lose him or any of the other tricks he’s seen employed by people who think they’re following. No, he just drives right into the heart of the city and pulls up to…the VA hospital.
What?
Bucky grabs his binoculars, adjusting them just in time to see Stark stop at the front entrance and a couple nurses come out to greet him as he gets out of the car. He switches the audio part of the tracker on, wondering if Stark hadn’t managed to turn that off at least.
“—if you need help with installation,” Stark says, rounding the corner to the trunk. He pops it open and unzips the suitcase, emerging with a handful of—are those arms? And what looks like a leg and—
“Holy shit, you sick bastard, he’s not cheating on you at all,” Bucky mutters. And he’d be willing to bet that Stone knows it too cause this? This isn’t really the kind of thing you can hide. This is the kind of personality that seeps out in other ways no matter how much Stark might try to act like an asshole.
“I’ll be back tomorrow evening with another batch,” Stark finishes as he hands off the last of the prosthetics to the nurses.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” one of the nurses says fervently.
“Don’t mention it,” Stark says causally. “Seriously, don’t.”
He watches them go and then sets off across the parking lot—right toward Bucky’s car. Aw fuck, he knew he shouldn’t have just followed him but Stark discovering his bug had really thrown him off. For a brief moment, he entertains the thought of just leaving but he’s pretty sure that would create more problems than it solves.
Stark smiles sweetly and taps on his window. Bucky rolls it down and waits for the riot act.
But when it comes, all Stark says is, “If Ty wants a divorce, he can have the balls to tell me himself.” Then he glances at Bucky’s empty left sleeve—his main souvenir from the army—and adds, “I can help with that, if you want.”
Then he walks—no, that’s a fucking sashay—back to his car, gets in, and drives off.
And Bucky drags his gaze away from Stark’s ass, sinks lower in his seat, and mutters, “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”
I’ve been sleeping on the ship of Bucky/Sam/Tony and here I am correcting that misstep. Watch out for under the cut!
--
“So you’re finding out who your new heavenly partner is today, right?” Bucky asked, not looking up from his bowl of cereal.
Sam stabbed at his bagel, scowling. “Yeah.” Ever since Steve had transferred out of Shouldering, he’d been put on leave until he could be paired with a new angel.
It had been annoying, watching Bucky go off to work, so he was glad he was coming off leave. He hated having nothing to do, and he especially hated that there was nothing he could do to speed up the process. He didn’t begrudge Steve his promotion—he had wanted to go into being a Guardian for centuries, after all—but he hated that he’d have to get used to another person. He’d had Riley as a partner first, and they’d gotten along splendidly, but one day he’d disappeared, and Heaven was tight-lipped about those kinds of things, but even he could tell that something bad had happened. He wished he’d gotten a chance to say goodbye.
After Riley, he’d been assigned to work with Steve. They’d butted heads a few times in the beginning, but once they’d gotten past the typical Heaven and Hell politics, they’d become fast friends. And Steve had always talked about becoming a Guardian angel, had wanted it with every ounce of his being, so he hadn’t been surprised that Steve had eventually gotten the promotion. Sam was happy for him, honestly, because he’d gotten to know Steve really well, and he deserved it! He’d make a good Guardian. And Steve had said he’d put in a good word to make sure he was partnered well.
He just… wasn’t in the mood to learn how to work with someone new when his two previous partners had been so good, as petty as it was.
“Being a house-husband is still an option,” Bucky said after a moment, and it made Sam realize he’d totally mutilated his bagel.
Sam sighed, scowling down at his plate. Maybe, if he didn’t hit it off with his new partner, he’d take Bucky up on it.
.-.-.-.
His new partner was wearing a suit.
“Ah, uh, interim partner,” the angel said, frowning at him.
“Steve never wore a suit,” Sam said, and he couldn’t help the fact that it came out as somewhat accusing. He felt like he couldn’t be faulted for it, though, because the suit was… it was doing wonderful things for the angel’s body, especially the way the slacks cupped his—
The angel, who had previously introduced himself as Tony, immediately looked sour-faced. “Steve never sat still long enough for one.”
Sam opened his mouth, then closed it again. Yeah, that sounded like Steve, actually. “Oh.”
“And I’m just your interim partner,” Tony continued, a tablet appearing out of thin air that he immediately began scrolling on. “Steve put in several names as possible partners for you. The problem is, all of them want to advance in their careers, too, and as you’ve shown no desire to move on yourself, we want to find a partner who will stay with you.”
“So you assigned me an interim partner to leave me,” Sam deadpanned.
Tony looked up at him in surprise, then let out a somewhat self-deprecating laugh. “Oh, don’t be fooled. I haven’t Shouldered in millennia, and I’m hard to get along with besides, so you’ll be ecstatic to get rid of me by the time we’ve found a suitable partner.”
Sam shrugged, noncommittal. He’d heard about pairings that bickered so much that their human charges mostly ignored them, but he was more of the ‘sit down and talk it out’ type. Other demons told him that that wasn’t particularly normal for their kind, but Sam chalked it up to being another reason why he was not eaten by a more powerful demon in his adolescence. Some older demons just wanted to vent! Who knew! Sam did, and no one took him seriously about it.
“Also since I’m basically banned from interacting with humans, we’re not really going to be Shouldering anyway,” Tony continued, finally looking up from his tablet. “We’re just going to be assessing first-time Shoulderers. You’ve been doing this for centuries and you come highly recommended, so I figured you’d be okay with that?”
Sam frowned, crossing his arms as he considered the proposal. On one hand, he liked more hands-on work; he enjoyed actually helping humans. On the other hand, it might help him in his own work to see how other demons and angels worked together.
“You can definitely make fun of the other Shoulderers when we’re on break,” Tony added.
“Yes!” Sam exclaimed, pumping his fist, and then was nearly bowled over by Tony’s shy smile, as if pleased to have made him happy. “I mean. That sounds great, Tony, thank you,” he said, trying to be professional.
Tony shrugged, still smiling. “It’s nice to know that you enjoy your job,” he said honestly. “Anyway! I have to go give my replacement some information that I forgot when I left, so we’ll start tomorrow? I’ll send you some files about who we’ll be shadowing.”
“Sounds good,” Sam replied, reaching out to shake his hand. “Nice meeting you. I hope we work well together.”
“Well, I’ll certainly try to make it bearable,” Tony answered, amused, and then disappeared in a pleasant little ‘pop!’ like a soap bubble.
.-.-.-.
Bucky, of course, asked the important questions as soon as he got home. “Is he hot?”
“Yes,” Sam replied. “And he was wearing a suit.”
“Steve never wore a suit!” Bucky exclaimed, offended. “And with proportions like that, he would have killed people he was so hot.”
Sam threw his hands up. “Right?!”
“I’m gonna kick his ass the next time I see him,” Bucky muttered.
Sam paused, then let his arms drop to his sides as he said, “Bucky, you can’t beat up everyone you find attractive.”
“Watch me,” the brunet replied.
Sam stared at him with all the disappointment he could muster before finally saying, “He’s small. He’s like, eight inches shorter than Steve.”
Bucky turned in his seat to give him his full attention, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Tiny and in a suit? Why. What does Heaven have against you.”
“Why do you think Heaven has something against me?” Sam asked, brows furrowing together in confusion.
“I mean, you cry over tuxedo kittens a lot,” Bucky reasoned.
“Only when I’m drunk,” Sam argued immediately.
Bucky rolled his eyes, turning back to the table to begin scribbling in his daily report again. “If you say so.”
“Anyway, he’s only an interim partner until they find someone suitable for me,” Sam explained, sitting down across from him. He pulled out his tablet and opened his email to find the files that Tony had sent over. “So I won’t actually have a human to Shoulder for until they find a permanent one. We’re just gonna be acting as auditors, I guess.”
“That’s not bad,” Bucky said thoughtfully. “Is it confidential? Or can you come home and tell me funny shit that’s happened?”
“I mean, I’m sure I can at least fudge enough details for plausible deniability,” Sam mused. “Besides, angels are insatiable gossips, so it would get out eventually anyway. Oh! And his butt looks like a peach.” Then he smiled smugly as Bucky spewed his coffee all over his paperwork and shouted at him because he had to redo all of it.
Bucky was always really nice to him in apology for yelling. Really nice.
.-.-.-.
Working with Tony was a delight.
He was clearly good at his job, whatever it was, because he always made pithy comments and cracked jokes while they were auditing how other angels and demons Shouldered, but his official write-ups were clear, concise, and factual—Sam knew this, because apparently they had to sign off on each other’s reports to make sure they agreed with each other about how the job had gone. Sam had no idea why Tony thought he’d get tired of working with him, because even when they were silent, bent over taking their notes, Tony was good company, a long line of heat from knee to hip, because they had to be close if they wanted to compare their observations.
And the suit. Oh, the suit.
Tony still showed up in a perfectly fitted suit, and looked just as handsome as the first day, but as he grew more comfortable with Sam, he started taking pieces of it off. Sam actually whimpered when Tony unbuttoned and took off his suit jacket, vest snug around his trim waist. Then Tony started unbuttoning and rolling up his sleeves, which made the selfish part of Sam’s heart hiss when he noticed the angel and demon they were auditing had looked at his arms as well. One time, Tony even picked the laces on his loafers undone and kicked his shoes off. Fuck. Bucky loved the vulnerability of socked or bare feet. Tony was checking all of their boxes in a bed-mate.
“Do you want to come to my place for dinner?” Sam blurted out at the end of one of their auditing assignments. “Bucky wants to cook for you.”
“Oh!” Tony said, surprised, but then he was frowning, shoulders beginning to hunch up. “Um… I don’t… usually eat?”
“You don’t eat?” Sam repeated, bewildered, then paused, suddenly remembering all the times he, Bucky, and Steve had gone to the bar together and Steve had indulged in a heavenly mead but had never picked at the bowls of nuts or ordered a meal like they had. “Huh,” he said, surprised.
“But I can eat!” Tony added hurriedly. “I just usually don’t because we don’t actually need to. But I can! Um, but I don’t like meat.”
Sam frowned in concern. “I don’t want you to put yourself out, Tony.”
“It’s not, I just—I forget, sometimes. That demons like to eat,” Tony admitted shyly, looking down at his feet and shuffling in place awkwardly. “I don’t really have a lot of friends. Only a couple of ‘em are demons, so it never occurs to me that you guys eat sometimes.”
“That’s adorable,” Sam told him seriously. “Is tofu okay?”
Tony looked up at him, blinking. “I can’t say I’ve had it, but as long as it’s not meat, I’ll try anything.”
“Tony, I just need you to know that Bucky will be absolutely disgusted that I’m making him prepare tofu, and telling him so will be the highlight of my day,” Sam said.
Tony opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked vaguely concerned, but also a bit leery, like he didn’t know if it would be demonophobic to say anything about it. Sam did not tell him that almost every demon enjoyed making angels wonder this. “Okay,” he finally said, frowning.
“Great! I’ll text you about a half an hour before it’s ready? Will that work?” Sam asked.
“Sure,” Tony answered, nodding. “That’s good. Do I need to bring anything?”
“Just yourself and a smile,” Sam told him cheerfully.
Tony laughed, teasing, “Sounds like you want me to show up naked!”
Sam would absolutely love it if Tony showed up naked, and Bucky definitely wouldn’t complain, but he figured that might be coming on too strong. Instead, he said, “Bucky is very interested in seeing you in a suit. He doesn’t believe angels wear them.”
Tony blinked at him, then scowled, mulishly muttering, “I’m gonna kick Steve’s ass.”
“I know that feeling,” Sam assured him, and Tony’s lips quirked up into a smile again.
.-.-.-.
“S. Small,” Bucky said after Sam had shown Tony into their apartment.
Tony whipped around to glare at him, then paused awkwardly when he realized that Bucky easily had six inches on him and was built like a brickhouse. “…Big?” he answered nervously.
Bucky frowned at him and told him, very seriously, “You are small and pretty like a songbird.”
“I, uh,” Tony sputtered, eyes wide with shock. “Thank you?”
“I have cute aggression,” Bucky added, and then visibly forced himself to return to the kitchen. “Give me a minute. Fucking brimstone and bats you’re so pretty.”
Tony stared after him, unsure whether to be terrified or not, then looked up at Sam in concern. “Um?”
“He’s not usually this much of an instinctive garbage can,” Sam assured him. “I tried to warn him that you were attractive, but I guess I didn’t do you justice.”
“Rude. I’m fucking ethereal in my beauty,” Tony answered, more on instinct than anything else. Then he tilted his head in confusion. “Wait. Didn’t you say Bucky was your husband?”
Sam raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, but like… I’ve got eyes.”
“What,” Tony said, and probably would have continued, except Bucky came stomping back out of the kitchen to approach him directly. “Uh.”
“Does your ass really look like a peach?” Bucky asked sternly.
Tony reached back to grab his butt, frowning up at him and brows furrowing together in concern. “Yes? I’ve been told? Eep,” he added when Bucky lifted his hands to cup his cheeks and pull him closer.
“I wanna eat it like one,” Bucky growled.
“Eep,” Tony squeaked again.
Bucky glared down into his eyes a moment longer before he let him go and turned to stomp back into the kitchen. “But after dinner. I made tofu edible and you’re gonna eat it.”
Tony gaped after him in a mixture of terror and confusion, still clutching his ass.
“Why don’t you have a seat,” Sam suggested, gently placing a hand between Tony’s wings and urging him toward the table.
“Your husband just said he wanted to eat my ass in front of you and you’re telling me to take a seat?!” Tony spluttered, but still allowed himself to be eased into one of the chairs.
Sam smiled a little. “Well, I mean. I’m kind of hoping that you’ll let me suck your dick while you ride his face, so it would be kind of hypocritical of me to be angry.” He hooked his hand under Tony’s arm so that he didn’t miss the chair as he yelped in surprise. “But if you’re not interested, we can just have a lovely dinner, and I won’t be offended if you don’t want to work with me anymore.”
Tony stared up at him, wide-eyed and silent.
Sam patted him on the shoulder and then began shuffling things around on the table so that it could fit all of the dishes Bucky was bringing out, unconcerned about the lack of answer. Tony had never been speechless before, but he figured that this time definitely warranted it, and he was honestly kind of looking forward to hearing how Tony would react.
Tony had actually had three bites of the stir-fry Bucky had made before he burst out, “What if I don’t even like having sex with male-presenting beings?”
“Then I will cry,” Bucky answered.
“He won’t,” Sam said hastily when Tony stared at him in affront. “Well, I mean, he’s an ass man so he might actually cry a little, but not to guilt you or anything.”
“Well,” Tony said mulishly. “I suppose my ass is a treasure.”
Bucky held his hands up. “Just wanna cup each cheek and bury my face in ‘em.”
Tony gaped at him, still looking a little offended. That was normal, though—most people were put off by how earnest Bucky was about eating ass. Luckily, Sam was all for it, so it had never been a problem for them.
“Anyway, if you’re not down to fuck, we can just be friends,” Bucky added with a shrug. “We did it with Stevie. Although that asshole did yell at me for being forward when all I did was say I could bounce a quarter off his ass.”
“He yelled at you for actually bouncing a quarter off his ass,” Sam corrected. “I think he was embarrassed that it bounced so far though.” He looked back at Tony with a shrug. “But no pressure. I like you as a friend and Bucky always likes feeding people so if you don’t want to do anything sexual, that’s fine.”
Tony ate some more stir-fry, then set his fork down. “I don’t really do… casual sex anymore. I am… Old.”
Sam and Bucky blinked at him in surprise. “How old are you?” Sam asked.
“I am Old with a capital ‘O,’” Tony corrected, and he looked pleased when they blanched.
“If you’re one of the angel elders why the fuck are you working with me I’m a baby compared to you,” Sam sputtered.
Tony immediately frowned at him again. “I told you. We wanted to find someone who was in Shouldering for the long haul. It’s why we can only audit other pairs—I’m too powerful for most humans to behold.”
“Can you really turn into a flaming ball of eyes?!” Bucky asked excitedly.
Tony’s frown deepened into a scowl. “Why?”
Bucky gave him his best bitch face. “Because that’s sexy, Tony, obviously.”
“I don’t have an ass to eat when I’m a flaming ball of eyes,” Tony told him, and then threw his hands up in despair when this only seemed to give him a moment of pause. “I don’t like being a flaming ball of eyes. It scares people and I don’t know how you think it can be sexy when my being can only be pierced by a more powerful angel or a devil’s horn, and that’s not exactly pleasurable, if you know what I mean.”
They didn’t, but they also didn’t tell him so, because telling Tony they had never flirted with someone Old seemed like a bad idea when they still very much wanted to pinion him to their bed for the rest of eternity.
“We don’t really do casual,” Sam cut in before Bucky blurted out that he’d figure out a way to make piercing him with his horns pleasurable or die trying, because he knew Bucky would, if given the chance. “Bucky’s got a possessive streak, so we’d definitely want to be exclusive.”
Tony stared at them for a very long time, thoughtful, before he frowned in confusion and asked, “He’s possessive and has terrifying cute aggression? Who hates him,” and Bucky snorted his wine out his nose.
.-.-.-.
In the end, Tony had to turn them down, but only because he felt weird dating them while also technically acting as Sam’s superior. Made him feel like he was taking advantage somehow, he’d said.
So the minute Sam got paired with a new angel for Shouldering and waved Tony goodbye, he texted Bucky, and they were both waiting at Tony’s door by the time he got back from his office.
“You’re not wearing a suit,” Bucky said accusingly. “You’re even cuter now. I can’t handle this.”
Tony, clad in a well-worn pair of jeans and a human band t-shirt, blinked at him in complete bewilderment. “What?”
“Dressed down is good on you,” Sam explained, elbowing Bucky in the ribs. “I miss the vest a little, but you look slightly more approachable now. Less like I’ll be smote if I touch you.”
“Why would you be smote,” Tony asked him, still very obviously confused.
“…Don’t you smite people who touch you without permission?” Bucky asked, which was answer enough.
“WHY DO YOU THINK I WOULD SMITE SOMEONE FOR SOMETHING AS STUPID AS THAT WHEN THIS ISN’T EVEN MY TRUE FORM,” Tony bellowed, wings flying up in a threat display, but Bucky didn’t look perturbed by it, instead leaning around so he could get a better view of Tony’s ass in those jeans. Tony snapped his wings at them. “Don’t ogle me when I’m yelling at you!”
Bucky held his hands up placatingly. “Alright.”
“So now that we’re not working together, how about we go on a date?” Sam added, before Tony could continue to scold either of them.
Tony’s wings fell as he blinked up at them in surprise. “Huh?”
“You, us. A date. Show you we want commitment,” Sam explained. “We thought maybe you’d like to take a swing around the edge of the solar system and then maybe we could come back to one of ours for a snack? You don’t have to eat the snack of course, but Bucky and I enjoy eating.”
“…Well, I do like seeing Pluto…” Tony mumbled shyly, peering up at them from under his lashes. “I guess that would be alright. Yeah, that sounds nice! What are you guys going to have for a snack? If it’s not meat, maybe I’ll try it too!”
Bucky opened his mouth, but Sam hurriedly slapped him with his own velvety bat-wing, sending the other demon skidding across the clouds with an offended squawk. “Bucky brought a cheesecake,” he said sweetly.
Tony frowned up at him, unimpressed. “Was he gonna say my ass? He was gonna say my ass, wasn’t he. I don’t put out on the first date.”
“What about the second?” Bucky called out to him as he stood up and dusted himself off.
“You’ll need to see if you earn a second one,” Tony informed him imperiously, and then looked up at Sam with a smile. “What kind of cheesecake? I’ve had that. I like it.”
“We brought a couple different toppings,” Sam said, smiling back at him. “You can have your pick.”
Tony’s feathers fluffed as he beamed up at him. Sam could only gape, because holy shit, he suddenly understood what Bucky had meant when he’d said, ‘you are small and pretty like a songbird.’ He just wanted to tuck Tony into their apartment and keep him happy and sated until the end of time.
“You see,” Bucky hissed as Tony stepped into his apartment to send off a couple emails before they left. “You see? I’m not just especially demonic you’ve just never actually found another person you wanted to keep like me. Our honeymoon wasn’t three decades long because of me, remember, it was because you didn’t want it to end and you wanted to make sure I smelled like you. You’re not in better control of yourself, you’re just pickier than I am.”
“Brimstone and bats,” Sam breathed, aghast, as he realized the truth in his words.
.-.-.-.
The date went so well that they got to learn that Tony put out on the second as long there was already a promise of a third.
