Aloha, my people! I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. I did so much writing for my courses this semester that I actually got tired of it and went on hiatus. Now that the semester is almost over, I'm back with recharged batteries!

WARNING! Slashy goodness ensues!


Steve couldn't be more relieved when Friday arrives. This week went by agonizingly slow, and his curiosity over Tony's plans grew stronger with each passing day. His suspicion over Bucky also grew stronger. The guy spent the past couple days acting like nothing happened. He still greets Steve with the same innocent demeanor and tells him goodnight. It's rather perplexing, and it's probably not a good thing.

Indeed, Steve's suspicions are confirmed when Bucky snaps again later that afternoon. Steve is dressed in the only suit he owns, which is also the one he wore on his and Tony's first date. He's busy spiking the front of his hair to perfection when Bucky appears in the bathroom doorway.

He whistles. "Damn, you look amazing. Are we going somewhere?"

"I am, but you're not."

Bucky's mouth sets in a deep frown. "Who else are you going out with?"

"Who else do you think?"

Huzzah, the flash of quiet anger appears in his eyes again – the same one from two days ago. "No way, you aren't meeting up with him dressed like that."

Steve huffs. "Why not?"

Bucky lashes out, grabbing both of Steve's arms this time and whips him around, squeezing tight. "I've already told you he's no good for you. What part of that aren't you understanding?"

Steve gulps at the intense look in his eyes. He quickly decides it's a terrible look on him. "What part of 'it was five years ago' aren't you understanding?" he asks, surprised by his sudden courage.

Bucky scoffs before laughing. "You were my first, and you'll be my last." He leans in for another kiss, but Steve draws his knee up and knocks him right in the balls. "Fuck!"

The air hisses out of Bucky's lungs, and he releases Steve's arms to cup his aching crotch. Steve rushes past him and out the door. He needs to get far away and fast.

T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S

Stark Mansion is far enough. The luxurious home glows like a white beacon against the twilight sky when Steve arrives. This property is so familiar to him now. He and Tony spent a lot of time here over the summer, so it became like a second home to him. It was nice having their own space away from prying eyes and disapproving adults. That's how Tony remained a secret from Steve parents.

Steve types in the code and watches the lavish gold gates open for him. He slowly drives up the cobblestone driveway toward the garages and notices Tony's gorgeous Maserati parked there. Steve's heart skips a beat at the sight. It's been two weeks since he last saw Tony or his precious car.

Geez, this is like their first date all over again with the way anticipation and anxiety attack him simultaneously. Steve performs a quick deep-breathing routine his mom taught him from her yoga class. The last thing he wants is to appear flustered. I know Tony, and he knows me. This isn't like our first date. Pull yourself together. Steve exits his car with clammy palms and wipes them off on his trousers.

Well, here he goes.

He's about to walk up to the door when he hears plants rustling near him. Alarmed, he turns and sees, to his relief, Tony walking toward him. He's dressed in a fancy suit with a fedora situated on his head.

"Top of the evening, sir." He lifts the hat in greeting. "Er…" He quickly glances at his phone. "Unreal [exceptional] weather tonight, isn't it?"

Steve stares at him. Is this a joke? He starts laughing without really meaning to.

Tony quirks a brow and clears his throat. "Well, pardon me for attempting to be proper."

"Sorry, Tony, but what are you-"

"Don't ask questions." He interrupts and bends his arm before holding it out. "Mind if I escort you to the backyard?"

Steve blinks, his face flushing at the offering. He doesn't know whether to be flattered or concerned by his change in demeanor. He accepts the invitation regardless, sliding his arm into the space.

They leisurely stroll past the basketball court and wind their way toward the impressive Olympic-sized swimming pool, the air fueled with unspoken words once again. A nagging feeling forms in Steve's gut, prompting him to sigh.

"Whatever it is, forget about it."

"I can't, Tony." He pauses. "I'm sorry."

"Steve, we don't-"

Steve turns and shushes him. "Yes, we do. I shouldn't have done that. I was just so-"

Tony places a finger on Steve's lips. "I forgive you."

Steve stares at him. "You do?"

"Why are you surprised?"

"Well, you're usually not that straightforward."

Tony shrugs. "Tonight is a no-bullshit night."

"Really?"

"Yup."

Steve nods in agreement. "I can live with that."

"Don't get used to it though."

Of course there's a catch. That's how the great Tony Stark operates. Steve gives his cheeky boyfriend a playful jab before they link arms again. The odds of another "no-bullshit night" are slim, so Steve will make the best of it.

They continue with their stroll through the sprawling backyard. Steve feels better now that the apology is out of the way. The time apart did some good after all. Tony leads Steve through a small, unseeming gap in between the lush foliage. They enter a small area sectioned off from the rest of the backyard. The perimeter is enclosed by colorful rose bushes, and a spacious veranda sits at the very heart of the area.

But the best part is within the veranda. Steve slowly approaches it, his jaw slack in wonder. The roof is sparsely decorated with white string lights, illuminating the space in soft, soothing light. Dion and the Belmonts' Teenager in Love croons from the record player off to the side.

Steve steps inside, the light bathing his body in a gentle glow. A vintage black and white television sits on the left side. Positioned across from the TV is a red pull-out couch decorated with a few pillows. Two small tables on both sides of the couch have a set of candles on top, adding to the calm atmosphere. A bottle of lube hanging out on the right-hand table makes Steve blush.

Tony stands outside the veranda with a proud smile, letting his boyfriend soak it all in. It takes Steve a while to find his voice. "Tony, this is…"

"Me being an awesome boyfriend?" He steps inside. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Well, yeah." Steve looks around again. "This is amazing."

Tony's smile spreads into a grin. He turns off the record player and turns on the TV. "Hmmm, my rear feels like looking out a window at my neighbors right now…"

Steve looks at him like "the fuck?" before somehow making the connection. If he was a normal child of this generation, there's no way he'd know. Alfred Hitchcock's mystery thriller Rear Window is one of Steve's favorite movies. He's surprised Tony remembered. He acted quite uninterested when Steve was talking about it.

"How can we watch it on here? DVD players weren't invented yet."

"I know. That's why I took a modern TV and redesigned it to fit the time period."

Steve gapes. "You made this?"

"Just the exterior. The guts are still intact." He shrugs like it's no big deal, which it isn't to him. Truth is, his projects never cease to amaze Steve. Although Tony just experiments with already-made inventions right now, there's no doubt in Steve's mind he'll go on to create his own incredible things in the future.

Tony plops down on the couch and pats the spot next to him. Steve occupies the space and snuggles against him like they didn't spend a tense two weeks apart. Perhaps their relationship is stronger than he gives it credit for. Tony uses the customized remote to pull up Netflix. Within seconds, the movie is playing on the small, black-and-white screen.

"Gee, this flick is grundy [neither good nor bad]," he comments.

Steve snorts back a laugh. "You can stop talking like that. I'm already impressed."

He glances at him. "Oh, yeah? Well, I'm in Fat City whenever I'm with you."

Steve doesn't even try holding back the laugh this time. "Are you saying I make you fat?" Although he doesn't know the slang Tony used, he does know a few '50s terms. He learned them in his studies, but he never uses them. Steve Rogers is not that old-fashioned, mind you.

"Yes, you make me plump with feelings."

Steve gives him a playful shove. "Just stop talking." A lighthearted smile plays on his lips right when the movie starts.

Surprisingly, Tony obeys. Silence falls over them as they turn their attention onto the movie…ahem, I mean flick. They're a good five minutes in when Steve feels a hand on his thigh. He glances at Tony, finding mischief glittering in those dark eyes. Oh, God. Steve knows that look.

"Wanna find out what Netflix and chill is?" he asks lowly, a husky edge in his voice.

Steve gulps and reflects back on his conversation with Bucky. Now that he knows what the phrase means, a giddy chill tickles his spine. He responds with a small nod.

Tony smirks and presses a button on the side of the couch. It slowly folds out so they're reclining. Tony turns the TV volume before rolling over and positioning his body over his boyfriend's.

Steve stares up at him, face painted a pretty pink. Sweet Lord, they're actually going to get it on with a Hitchcock film playing in the background. Is that even possible? Their crazy asses are about to find out.

"They say makeup sex is the best sex, ya know."

"Since when do you listen to what "they" say?"

Tony shrugs. "I don't. I just agree with it."

"That means you heard it, though."

"Shut up, and kiss me."

He lowers himself down, and Steve takes initiative. Their lips meet, igniting a passionate spark that shocks Steve's system, leaving him breathless. Thank God the spark is still there. He gasps into the kiss, and Tony seizes the opportunity, gliding his tongue inside the familiar cavern in one fluid motion. The rough muscles twirl and curl around each other gracefully, like a well-choreographed dance. No intense arena fight for dominance this time; just a sweet ballet.

Aligning their clothed erections together, Tony presses his body flush against Steve's and starts grinding down on him. They both moan into the kiss, which breaks the delicate contact.

Tony attacks Steve's neck like an avid painter with a blank canvas. He decorates the tender flesh with light kisses before latching on and sucking, slow and steady. Steve bites his lip and turns his head to the side. Tony is marking him. He can't hide this. Bucky will see the bruise when he returns home. He'll know exactly what happened.

Thinking about Bucky briefly pulls Steve out of the moment. Now that he's unleashed the beast, it won't go back in the cage. A sharp bite to the other side of his neck sucks him (literally) back into the moment.

"Ow!"

Tony pulls back to look at him. "Am I boring you?"

Steve blinks. He didn't realize he totally zoned out. "No, everything's good." He pauses. "You fucking rock my socks." He smirks. Tony never resists a compliment.

Tony hums appreciatively in response. He gently runs his tongue over the fresh bite as if to apologize. Steve closes his eyes and resubmits himself to the mercy of his stupidly rich and good-looking boyfriend.

Tony reconnects their lips and continues thrusting against him. Steve fists his hands in Tony's suit jacket and curls his toes with every drag of his hips. His entire genital region throbs pleasantly from the stimulation. A familiar building pressure makes Steve tug on Tony's jacket.

"Off. Clothes off. Now."

They could get each other off just like this, but where's the fun in that? Besides, he's burning up with adrenaline and arousal. Tony wastes no time removing their clothes, tossing each piece of fabric to the side. Steve exhales as the cool air pierces his heated skin.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm, you've got one classy chassis, babe," Tony comments, running his hands along the flat, pale plain of Steve's chest.

Steve flushes and groans, trying to hide his face with his arm. "Oh my God."

Tony grins and gently rubs Steve's nipples with his thumbs before leaning down and taking one into his mouth. Steve arches his back into the touch and grabs Tony's hair, digging his fingers into the thick, gel-slicked strands. After leaving a red ring around the nipple, Tony moves onto the next one. His free hand sneaks down to their leaking erections, trapping their hard flesh together. Steve gasps in surprise and bucks his hips on instinct. Slowly Tony moves his rough hand along their shafts, precum oozing from the head onto Steve's, their fluids mixing together in a most intimate way.

When Tony's done with Steve's nipples, he plants light kisses up his chest and throat before reaching his lips. They kiss along with the rhythm of Tony's hand until they run out of air. Tony breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on Steve's shoulder. Steve focuses on the sensation of his boyfriend's wet, throbbing organ pressing against his. He starts thrusting in sync with the hand in a silent plea for more friction. The climactic pressure once again builds in his groin.

"I-I'm gonna c-cum soon, babe," he warns.

Tony releases their shafts on cue and sits up with his knees on either side of Steve's thighs. "No, you aren't," he responds like the cheeky bastard he is.

He cleans their fluids off his hand with long, teasing tongue strokes. Steve flushes at the sight and chews on his lip. With his hand clean, Tony reaches over and plucks the lube bottle off the nightstand. He pops it open, permeating their little space with the sweet scent of strawberry. The smell almost makes Steve's eyes water with want. Tony holds out the opened bottle to his willing boyfriend.

"Lay it on me," he mumbles, voice rough with arousal.

Steve gulps to suppress a moan. He loves it when Tony gives him this control. Taking bottle in hand, Steve squirts a generous helping of the thick, fragrant liquid into his palm. He rubs his hands together, warming the substance up. Tony watches through impossibly dark, intense eyes, his tongue dragging across his lips. Steve smirks up at him and reaches out, trapping Tony's erection between his hands. Tony grunts and drops his head forward. With the utmost precision, Steve massages the lube onto the throbbing shaft, running his hands all around the organ to thoroughly coat it. He teasingly brushes his fingertips along the hard, sensitive head before pulling back and spreading his legs.

Tony draws in a deep, shaky breath while grabbing Steve's legs and bending them to expose his entrance. He lines up his slick erection with the delicate ring of muscle and starts pushing in. Steve relaxes his body in order to guide Tony along. He moans softly as his body grows accustomed to the familiar length and girth sheathed inside his passage. Tony also moans, loving the way Steve's inner walls pulse and squeeze around him. He hovers above his boyfriend's body with his tanned arms on either side of the pale torso.

After a moment, Tony sets a slow rhythm. Steve's eyes slide closed, and he wraps his legs around Tony's waist, savoring their intimacy. Tony lowers himself down and lightly brushes his smooth lips against dry ones. A hit to Steve's prostate sends him arching up into a proper kiss. Tony seals the deal by adding more pressure into the kiss, enjoying the way Steve's breath hitches with each drag of his hips. The kissing intensifies as Tony picks up speed, his elongated organ repeatedly bumping Steve's small pleasure center. Each hit sends a lightening bolt through Steve's spine. He hangs on for the stormy ride and curls his toes, each one letting out a soft pop. He breaks the kiss to unleash a series of repressed moans.

"Mmmm, T-Tony…gettin' close."

"Mmm, good…I am too."

Tony wraps a slick hand around Steve's neglected erection, pumping it in earnest with his thrusts. He feels Steve's inner walls tighten in preparation for the incoming climax. The added stimulation does the trick, and Steve's orgasm crashes down on him like a rogue wave.

"Ah-ahhh, fuck, marry me!"

His jaw drops, and his back arches, painting Tony's fist and his own abdomen with thick, white stripes. Tony follows Steve into oblivion and shoots his passion inside the pulsing canal. Once the intense pleasure wave subsides, Tony slowly pulls out, causing both of them to moan, and flops down beside his boyfriend. The two lovers bask in their afterglows and stare up at the star-dotted sky for what feels like ages.

"Did you mean that?"

"Mean what?"

"What you just said."

Steve's brow furrows. "What did I say?"

Tony snorts. "You don't even remember?"

Steve glances at him. Tony glances back with a look that says, "You know exactly what I'm talking about, you little shit." He thinks a bit harder before his eyes widen in realization. He just said…right before he…oh.

That.

Right.

He shudders when a breeze teases his sweat-slicked skin. "Shit, Tony, it just…that just slipped out. I'm sorry."

Tony quirks a brow. "Is that right?" He turns his gaze back onto the night sky. "So, you, uh…don't wanna marry me, then…"

His voice bears no hint of sarcasm or cheekiness. Steve's stomach drops. "No…no! It's not that at all." He grabs Tony's hand and interlaces their fingers together. Tony's hand remains lax. "I do want to get married…eventually. That'd be crazy to do it now."

"Why not? We do crazy." Tony glances at him, his eyes large and glassy.

Steve blinks. "Er, because it's way too soon? I mean, we just barely got into college, and-"

"So? There's tons of married people in college."

Steve closes his eyes and exhales. "Are you ready for that? Are we ready for that? As in, our relationship? We're trying to recover from another hit."

"At least we're recovering. That means we can handle anything."

"Yeah, but-"

"I'm willing to make it work." Before Steve can respond, Tony rolls back on top of Steve and sits on his thighs. He asks, in all his naked glory, "Steven Rogers, will you marry a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist?"

T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S/T/S

And that's how Steve found himself forever tied to the stupidly rich and intelligent man known as Tony Stark. Five months later, the lovely couple stood beneath a grand floral arch in Tony's backyard, exchanging vows. Their union attracted quite the media attention and diverse audience, including Jane, Peggy, Rhodey, Natasha, Clint, Sam, Bruce and, surprisingly, Steve's parents. A few people attended who weren't crazy about the event, but nobody created a darker cloud in the clear sky than Bucky. He sat in the back with sharp eyes and clenched fists, unable to accept his loss.


That's all for now, folks! Man, I can't believe I completed my first sequel. Feels great! I'm thinking about writing a third story, which is why I left the ending open. The next story would take place after Steve and Tony graduate college. Their life together would tie into the Avengers universe. Let me know if this sounds like something you'd be interested in!

Before I leave, I just want to express my excitement for Captain America: Civil War. Normal people see a feud between Steve and Tony, but slash fans see a passionate love triangle between Team Stony and Team Stucky, amiright?! I like both pairings, but, for the sake of this story, Team Stony's got my vote. Woot! ;)