Previously:

"Hi. You made it," you said with a laugh, beaming.

"I did," he said with a chuckle. "Made good time, too. Just couldn't wait any longer to get to you," he admitted, capturing your lips in another kiss.

Breaking apart, you finally took in the vehicle that had brought him here with a wide smile. "Is that what I think it is?"

He smirked then, turning towards the car but keeping an arm around your waist. "Yup. The Impala."

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"It's....it's incredible. I can't believe you finished it! I didn't see it at the shop when I was there, though," you inquired, still in disbelief that you were finally holding Bucky in your arms here in the City of Angels.

"Well," he began with a quirked eyebrow, "It still wasn't much to look at for a long time, but once I decided to come out here, I knew I wanted to arrive in style," he grinned, squeezing you tighter to his side.

"And you've succeeded. You did all this yourself in 6 weeks?" you asked, reaching a hand out to caress the shiny black paint of the hood.

"No, not alone. And it took longer than that. I did finally have the time to work on it slowly once I had help, but I spent the past month showing Pete how to rebuild an engine and this was the perfect way to do that. I found a good parts dealer and once it was drivable, I took it to a place a few hours away and did the paint job myself. They only charged me for materials," he declared proudly with a smile.

"It's amazing. You're amazing," you stated, turning back toward him and raising a hand to thread your fingers in his chestnut strands. "I've missed you so much."

His only response was to pull you close and capture your lips with his, pulling your body flush against his. You were lost in each other once again before you remembered your possible audience and reluctantly took a step back.

You cleared your throat with a smile and turned back toward the Impala. Leaning down to glance into the car's black leather interior, your gaze lingered on the back seat that held so many memories. You straightened up then and grasped Bucky's hand in yours. "We'll have to take it for a ride. Later," you said, wiggling your eyebrows, which made him laugh. His throaty chuckle was one of your favorite sounds in the world.

"Absolutely," he replied with a grin. Bucky dropped your hand then, walking around and popping the trunk. He retrieved his duffle bag and, to your surprise, his guitar nestled in a hard black case. He noticed your reaction upon seeing the instrument and smirked. "You seemed to enjoy my last private performance," he whispered and pecked a kiss to your lips.

You felt heat rise to your face at the memory and a familiar warmth in your belly began to flare. "I'm ready for an encore," you answered coyly before leading him up the front step and into the house.

Bucky set his things in the living room and you gave him a short tour of the first floor, ending in the kitchen. Bucky offered to help finish the meal, but you assured him it was all under control. You told him he could take a seat at the table, but after sitting in the car for so many hours, he preferred to remain standing as he leaned against the counter and watched you. Feeling his eyes on you was plenty distracting, but he also happened to be wearing those jeans that hugged his thighs and backside perfectly along with a dark grey t-shirt that accentuated his muscular chest and arms.

A few finishing touches and you finally put all the food on the table with Bucky taking a seat across from you. He dove in, complimenting your cooking and grateful for a meal that didn't come from a drive-thru. Not even fifteen minutes into dinner, though, you found that food was no longer your primary desire. Brushing your bare foot against his calf and then higher up past his knee, you noticed that Bucky had stopped eating and set down his fork.

You held his gaze and smirked at his reaction, stormy-grey eyes now merely a sliver with their color hidden by lust-blown pupils. He then quickly pushed his chair away from the table to stand as you did the same. Bucky tossed you over his shoulder, a squeal escaping your lips as he bounded up the stairs two at a time and easily found the bedroom down the hall.

Bouncing lightly as your back hit the mattress, you wasted no time to rid yourselves of restrictive clothing and grasped for one another, seeking skin against skin. Each touch felt brand new as you joined together, restoring what time and distance had separated over the torturous months apart.

Afterward as you settled into each others' arms to rest, you inhaled deeply to calm your breathing. A hint of salty air touched your nose from the breeze slipping through the balcony door that was open a inch. Feeling whole once again with Bucky in your arms, you sighed contentedly and fell into a deep, blissful sleep.

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Brightness grew behind your lids bringing you slowly to consciousness before your lashes fluttered open. Gathering the sheet around you and glancing to the side, your foggy brain registered that Bucky was nowhere in sight. The sheets where he previously lay were cool and your brow furrowed in confusion until you took a deep breath and a delicious smell invaded your senses. Ripping the sheet free from the bed, you wrapped it around yourself and followed the scent downstairs to the kitchen.

Bucky stood at the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips, his sculpted torso bare and glorious. The smell of pancakes made you salivate almost as much as the delicious man before you.

"What's all this?" you asked in a raspy voice, finally announcing your presence.

"Good morning," Bucky replied as he turned your way with a smile. "You made dinner last night so I thought I'd return the favor. Had to rummage through cupboards for a bit, but I found everything." He closed the distance between you with spatula in hand, pressing a fiery and passionate kiss upon your lips. His free hand wandered underneath the sheet, seeking the supple flesh underneath.

"Mmm," you groaned against his mouth. "I'll definitely need those carbs if we're gonna go another round," you smirked, shoving him playfully.

"If?"

"When," you said with a wink, then settling in a chair at the table while you watched him putter around your kitchen. It was a sight you could definitely get used to.

"So besides carb-loading and 'another round', what else is happening today?" he asked, sliding a few pancakes onto a large plate.

"Well, I was thinking maybe we could hit the beach later and then take a drive up the coast. We could do some of the tourist-y stuff, if you want. Rodeo Drive, Grauman's Chinese Theatre with the Hollywood Walk of Fame, hike up to the Hollywood sign...I've done most of that stuff but tend to avoid those areas now because of traffic," you answered with a shrug.

"I'm okay with whatever, as long as it's with you," Bucky smiled, pecking another kiss on your lips before setting down the plate and a bottle of maple syrup on the table. "The beach and a drive sounds good to me. Although, I didn't bring any swim trunks. In fact, I'm not sure I own any..."

You snorted. "I figured as much, so I bought a few for you. Pick the ones you like and I'll return the others," you said, spearing a few pancakes and putting them on your own plate before grabbing the syrup.

"Thanks, doll."

"You're welcome," you answered through a mouthful of fluffy pancakes.

He chuckled at that, then digging into his own plate. "So how does the premiere thing work tomorrow?"

You held up a finger as you struggled to chew and swallow a large bite of pancake, then clearing your throat. "Mm. Well, I have a wardrobe team coming in the morning. They'll have a few suits for you to try on and they can make any small alterations. I gave them rough sizing for you, but without measurements it's more of a challenge. I've already picked out a dress, so it's just jewelry and shoes I'll need to choose. We'll start getting ready in the late afternoon, but have a few hours to ourselves if there's something you want to do," you finished, stuffing another heavenly bite of pancake in your mouth.

Bucky nodded, dragging a forkful of pancake through the pool of syrup on his plate. "Sounds good."

You were distracted then. A drop of syrup fell from a bite an inch from your mouth with the sticky substance hitting your bare skin and disappearing underneath the sheet that covered you. "Damn," you muttered, reaching for a napkin. "Now I'm all sticky."

Bucky watched you as you pulled the sheet lower and failed to clean the drip. "I can think of a better way to clean that off," he responded in a low voice, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip.

You paused in movement and held his gaze, a smile stretching across your face as you shared the same thought. Pancakes forgotten, you leapt from the table with Bucky at your heels, barely pausing to grab the bottle of maple syrup. You squealed as he grabbed a handful of your sheet and you spun out of his grasp, running the last few steps without a stitch of clothing on as you headed for the bedroom.

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After your sticky, sensual adventures that late morning, you shared a shower and then got dressed for the beach. Bucky settled on a pair of dark blue board shorts that hit him just above the knee, but still thankfully accentuated his assets. You slipped on your swimsuit followed by a cover-up and grabbed towels, umbrella, sunscreen, a hat, and a few snacks before packing it all into the Impala.

The engine growled to life and you clapped your hands in glee, sliding in next to Bucky with his arm around you.

"It's gorgeous, Bucky. Really. You did an amazing job restoring it," you praised him, placing a hand on his thigh.

"Thank you," he smiled gratefully with those laugh lines by his eyes making an appearance. You loved them even more when you knew you were the cause of them. "So where to?"

You directed him out of your neighborhood and onto the freeway heading toward a more secluded beach about ten minutes away that you had discovered a while back. Parking, you slipped off your sandals and linked your hand with Bucky's as you strolled through the sand toward the water.

Dropping the towels and bags in the sand, you had set up a beach umbrella and laid down with your face in the shade while Bucky went into the water. It wasn't long before a very wet Bucky shook his damp hair in your face and you jumped to your feet to retaliate. You spent the rest of the afternoon chasing each other in the waves and splashing one another until you were both exhausted and soaked. The pair of you settled back on the towels as you made out lazily on the sand with hands wandering occasionally.

Eventually, the snacks were gone and you were both starving, so you gathered everything and crawled back into the Impala. Bucky drove under your direction to a casual sandwich shop a few miles away. You ate outside, watching the sun slip below the ocean until the sky was painted with pinks and oranges.

Darkness began to fall as Bucky drove up the coast with you by his side. He pulled over into a secluded, scenic overlook and killed the engine. Far from the city, you were finally able to see the stars begin to twinkle in the velvety sky, so you and Bucky got out and sat on the car's trunk, laying on the back window wrapped in each other's arms. Bucky shared the constellations he knew and pointed out visible planets at this time of year. He always loved space and was in awe of astronauts who had been there, the true heroes of our time according to him.

A shiver ran through you as the breeze picked up and Bucky pulled you closer, rubbing a hand over the goose bumped flesh of your arm with his lips finding yours. The kiss progressed until you hopped off the car and Bucky was holding the rear door open for you, climbing onto the familiar back seat. A little less head room with an actual roof, but you managed to recreate that sweaty goodbye over two years ago that had inexplicably led to this moment.

Each goodbye since then, no matter how impermanent, you had learned to appreciate each moment you spent together. You didn't want to waste one second, one touch, one word. Which possibly prompted your unexpected confession in the back of the '67 Chevy under the stars.

"I love you, Bucky."

Your words hung in the air a short moment and you raised your head off his chest where it had been resting to meet his eyes. Perhaps you had expected shock or disbelief, but you only found the same expression of love most likely mirrored on your own face.

"I love you, too, Y/N," he admitted, grasping the back of your head gently to capture your lips in a kiss to seal those first words of love into that perfect moment.

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The next morning, you were woken at 8am by a ring of the doorbell. Having neglected to set an alarm, you cringed at the sight of your morning hair and bags under your eyes in the mirror before rushing down the stairs, but at least it offered the miracle team a challenge. You let the team in and they brought garment bags, boxes full of shoes, and other accessories. They set up in the living room and you scampered back upstairs to gently wake Bucky, who was still sound asleep, with kisses and mild tickling. He grumbled and whined a bit, but eventually, you convinced him to lumber down the stairs and got him to try on some suits with the promise of some alone time soon.

You went into the kitchen and made some fruity kale smoothies for everyone, careful of any allergies or dietary issues. Presenting a glass of the frosty liquid to each person, you then tried on and selected a pair of shoes and jewelry for the premiere. The two tailors working on Bucky's suit complained that they didn't know your boyfriend's shoulders were so wide or his thighs so thick, which just made you laugh as the long-haired brunet blushed at their comments.

An hour and a half later, you waved goodbye to the wardrobe team and thanked them for being willing to work so last minute. Both yours and Bucky's outfits were laid out on the couch, pressed and ready for you to change into in a few hours.

Upon asking Bucky if there's anything he wanted to do in the meantime, he simply answered that he wanted to stay in and watch a movie, which was perfectly fine with you. Bucky whipped up a simple lunch and you ate in the TV room while the movie played. It was a perfect, quiet afternoon in anticipation of the craziness to come later that night.

You were roused once again by the doorbell, having drifted off some time during the movie. Crawling off the couch slothfully, you then pulled Bucky up by his hands and stretched.

"The cavalry is here. Time to make us pretty," you teased, pecking a kiss on his lips before leading him downstairs by the hand.

Hair and makeup had arrived along with one member of the wardrobe team to help you both dress. The whole process took about two hours involving Spanx, double-stick tape, and a lot more primping than you cared to do on a regular basis. With your hair and makeup flawless and strapped into an expensive dress that hugged you just right, you hardly recognized yourself in the full-length mirror. On nights like these, you weren't actually yourself, but more like someone playing a part. It was all for show but you got to be a real life princess for the evening.

Utterly distracted by your own transformation, you looked up in surprise to see Bucky fully dressed and looking devastatingly handsome. His long, chestnut strands were slicked back into a small bun with a small amount of stubble on his chiseled jaw. The slate grey suit tapered gracefully from his wide muscular shoulders down to his trim waist with a crisp white shirt and tie underneath. Pants with a clean pleat down each leg were tailored perfectly, causing you to let out a low whistle and rotate your hand with one finger out so he would give you a stunning 360 degree view.

"Not bad, huh? They tried to make me shave, but..."

"Good. I'd fight for that stubble, too," you grinned, biting your lip as a wave of lust pulsed through you. "You look incredible, Mr. Barnes," you said as you stepped toward him, ignoring the protests of the woman still hemming a section of your dress.

"God, you look gorgeous in that dress," Bucky stated with love in his eyes, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you gently. "I can't wait to rip it off you later," he added with a lustful whisper.

"Hey, no ripping. It's a rental," you spoke sternly. "But I can't wait to get my hands under that suit either," you said with a wink and then stepping back into place to have your hem repaired.

Fifteen minutes later, you had fixed your lipstick a few times after being unable to stop kissing your hunky boyfriend, but you were officially ready. You grabbed your clutch purse with the essentials and slid into the back of the chauffeured car that Tony had sent. Bucky wanted to drive, but you told him that parking was just too insane. He laughed at the fact that you had to slouch in your seat and avoid bending at the waist to prevent wrinkles. You swatted at his arm with a chuckle of your own, or as much as you could in your tight dress.

Your driver took you to the back entrance as per instructions, but you could see the madness of the red carpet with cars and people wrapped around the block. You thanked the driver and he handed you a card with the number to call when you were ready to leave. Looping your arm in Bucky's, you both took a deep breath and approached the door where a security guard asked for your name and checked IDs. He opened the door with a nod and you stepped into the venue with another man directing you down the hall and into a reception room.

Bucky's eyes grew wide to see the high-ceilinged room with crystal chandeliers and gilded doorways. Theaters like this were built specifically for these kind of premieres with an area for cocktails and canapés beforehand. Guests were dressed in their finest, sparkling and shining in every shade of gown for women and handsome men in suits from every designer. You noticed Bucky had stiffened slightly with a clench of his jaw, nervous to be in such an unfamiliar setting.

You gave his arm a squeeze and drew his attention to you until he met your gaze. "Hey. It's not as intimidating as it looks. Tonight is a celebration and it should be for fun. If it's not, you tell me and we can go, okay?" you offered.

He focused on you alone and took a deep breath, allowing himself to smile again. "I'm okay. But thank you. I love you," he said quietly, carefully pecking a kiss to your painted lips without smudging them.

"I love you, too. Thank you for this. For coming all this way and supporting me, you have no idea what it means to me," you assured him with a smile.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he replied.

"There you are, Y/N," a voice spoke loudly as you saw a familiar face approaching.

"Hi, Tony," you replied as he pulled you in for a loose hug and a peck on the cheek.

"You look ravishing, Y/N. Vastly different from the usual 'haggard writer' look I see through Skype while you're begging me for a deadline extension," he teased, smirking with a wink behind a pair of tinted glasses.

You rolled your eyes slightly, "Yes, well, we can't all look as perfect as you at all times, Tony."

"Seriously, though, you look lovely. And this must be the handsome distraction and the reason why I couldn't get my writer to focus for half the year," Tony joked as he turned his attention to Bucky.

"He's kidding, Bucky," you assured him when you saw your boyfriend blanch at your agent's words. "I can distract myself from writing all by myself. Tony Stark, this is Bucky Barnes. Bucky, this is my agent, Tony," you said in introduction as the two men shook hands.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark," he said respectfully.

"Please, just call me Tony. And it seems you were a means of inspiration as well, so I guess I'll forgive you. I have to go schmooze some more, but just a heads up, Rogers at 12 o'clock," Tony leaned in to whisper those last few words before he walked away with a nod.

Your eyes flew wide and within seconds, you discovered the man's perfectly styled dirty-blond hair and a pair of bright blue eyes met yours from across the room. He smiled and raised a hand in greeting before making his way toward you.

"Is that Steve Rogers?" Bucky asked with a tone of admiration in his voice. "Looks like he's headed this way. Are you two close friends?"

"Um..." you hesitated, watching Steve's progress across the room as he continued to shake hands and greet people along the way. "About that. There's something I should probably tell you..."

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Part 12 coming soon...

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Oh snap! Guess it's time to come clean, huh? What did you think about going to the beach with Bucky and all that followed? ;) Maple syrup, right? Heh. :D It was fun to describe the preparations for the premiere. All the fancy clothing and jewelry...and not to mention Bucky looking like Seb at TIFF 2015? So hot! And then there's Steve. Any theories of how that's all going to go down? Next part coming soon!