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Back and Forth With Sugar

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As Steve opens the door to his apartment building and steps onto the sidewalk, he grunts at the heat and humidity of the late August New York City morning. It isn’t that he’s not used to the heat—he had been working in the sweltering temperatures of West Texas all summer—but somehow the way the concrete traps the sun and saves it for later is overwhelming. Besides, his current location is missing the one thing he wants most. Namely, he misses the shit out of his boyfriend.


If he hadn’t promised his mother he’d meet her for brunch, he probably would have headed right back inside and flopped onto the couch under the window unit air conditioner and not come out again until the weather turned. Sarah Rogers had insisted, though, and he’s looking forward to seeing his mom after a summer away and telling her all about his adventures—the G rated version, of course.


Turning the corner, he approaches their favorite greasy spoon diner and spots her chatting with the hostess before spying him and waving. Leave it to his mom to charm her way into the perfect table, inside for the AC but next to an open window so they can experience the fresh air. Never mind that it’s wasteful to condition the outside, but he isn’t the one paying the bill.


“Hi, mom,” he offers in greeting and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Missed you. Thanks for the care packages. They helped get me through the tough days.”


“Steven Grant, you are a sight for sore eyes,” she chirps with a grin splitting her face as she grips his shoulders. “Look how big you’ve gotten. You really packed on the muscle, didn’t you?”


With a pleased grin, he ducks his head as the waitress comes and takes their drink orders. When they’re alone again, he reaches across the table and grabs her hand. “A lot changed this summer. That’s for sure.”


“Oh… Oh, Stevie. Something’s happened, hasn’t it? Twenty-one years old, and you went off on an adventure that changed everything.”


“Well… I met someone, Mom. Met someone really, really special.”


Eyes twinkling, she leans in and whispers, “Someone? Tell me about him.”


Taken aback, Steve’s brow furrows. “How’d you know it’s a him? I didn’t say a word about that.”


“Sweetheart, you told me years ago that you’re attracted to those who identify as men and women, and you were working on a ranch this summer. I think the odds are better that you met someone male than female, yes?”


“Well, yeah, but…”


“But what, Steve? I want to know everything. Is he tall, dark, and handsome? Good kisser? I bet he’s big as—”




Grinning wickedly, she winks at him and digs into her stack of pancakes with gusto. “I’m 47, Steve, not dead. You don’t think I’m naïve enough to think you’re still a virgin, do you? Besides, if this person is as special as you indicated with your announcement, I’m assuming you went to bed together a lot over the summer. That’s part of what makes a summer romance so special, isn’t it? All heat and lust and—”


“For the love of all the saints, Mom. Please stop.”


“I will. I’ll stop…in the name of love.”


“You have jokes.”


“Joking is a part of who I am. If I don’t make jokes, then what can I do?” she asks with a shrug.


“I’ve forgotten how you don’t let me get a word in edgewise when you’re on one of your tears,” he teases, but his eyes snap with affection. He loves his mother a lot, especially her unabated desire to see him happy.


“Well, you start talking then. I need to know all about him, and you haven’t told me a single thing about this cowboy. He is a cowboy, right? With the boots and hat and plaid shirts and big brawny muscles and a spread-eagle walk from riding—”


“Right, so his name is Bucky. Bucky Barnes,” he sighs and pauses for a moment to revel in the sound of his lover’s name on his tongue after missing him for a few days. “He’s…uh, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted and didn’t know I did, but I love him. I love him so much, Mom. I…”


He stops then, too choked up to finish his sentence and in real danger of losing it in public. It’s only been a few days since he flew back home, but the distance between Brooklyn and West Texas feels like three worlds apart. No amount of phone calls and video chatting and sweet texts can make up for how empty he feels without Bucky wrapped around him and splitting him open and spilling inside. He misses everything, every smell and sight and sound and taste and touch of his time on the ranch, and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to last another five weeks until Bucky flies to visit him.


In the end, he spills it all, even admitting how intimate they became and where, which his mother responds to by beaming at him. The only time concern flits over her face is when he mentions the age difference, which didn’t seem like a big deal when he was there, but as a college student in the city, it raises eyebrows on his mother’s face.


“He’s how old, sweetheart?”


“Uh… Well, he’s 33.”


“And you just turned 21?”


“Well, yeah. You know how old I am, Mom.”


Sarah studies him for several minutes, her face carefully blank as she considers this revelation. “And this…Bucky is his name? You’re sure he feels the same way about you as you feel about him? He’s not in the habit of collecting pretty young things that show up during the summer and then discarding them as soon as they leave for home?”


Offended, Steve frowns at his mother for several long moments until she has the grace to blush. “You know me better than that, don’t you? You think I don’t know what being in love feels like? Just because Bucky’s the first person I’ve ever been serious about doesn’t mean I’m an idiot who falls for a few lines, pretty face, and hot body. I love him, Mom. This isn’t temporary. In fact, he’s coming here. Five weeks, and he’ll be here to see the city. Can you get on board with this by then? If not, tell me now, so I don’t waste his time introducing you to him.”


“Steve, I love you. If you’re sure about him, if you love him as much as you seem to think you do, I’m sure I’ll adore him too.”


Biting back a retort at her insinuation that he’s fooling himself, he swallows hard against the lump in his throat. It’s not that he doubts Bucky cares about him. It’s just that his mother’s reticence reminds him how unlikely his relationship with Bucky really is. Small, wiry, nerdy, cantankerous Steve Rogers is no match for popular, beefy, kind, gorgeous Bucky Barnes, and even his mother knows it. No, he doesn’t doubt Bucky’s love at all. He simply doubts that he deserves it.


When Sarah changes the subject to ask about the work on the farm and to share her summer adventures, he’s grateful for the distraction. Bucky’s at work now, unable to respond if he calls or messages him now anyway, so he might as well think about something else. Once he’s alone again, he can work through some of his anxiety. In the meantime, he is happy to see his mother after so many months apart. Before he left, she was his best friend, and he missed her when he was in Texas.


As Steve heads home, he tries to shake off his insecurity, and there’s no better way to do that than to send his boyfriend some suggestive texts that he knows will garner a response when Bucky has time to check his phone. He’s never really been into sexting before, but there are a lot of things he does differently now that he and Bucky are together.


S: Hey there, stud. Missing you this morning. Wishing you were here to take the bull by the balls. 😉


To his surprise, Bucky responds immediately, which means he must be taking a coffee break before heading back out to wrangle cattle. The bull metaphor maybe isn’t so far off today.


B: Hi, Sugar. Missing your sweetness on my tongue and cock today. Wishing I could grab your balls and milk an orgasm out of you while you beg for mercy. Love you, sweetheart.


S: Love you more. Wanna ride you like a cowboy. Go all spread-eagle for you from being split in two.


B:  Don’t even need a saddle. We can just bareback all day.


Flushing, Steve can barely keep a smile off his face as he unlocks the door to his apartment and heads to the bedroom. He’s got a hankering to get his hand on his cock and send Bucky something to look at later that night. When his phone pings again, he’s fully unprepared that Bucky’s beat him to it.


On his screen is an image of Bucky smiling lazily with his broad chest uncovered and a green plaid shirt hugging his shoulders. The angle he used to take the photo doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination. Steve takes several moments to appreciate the hard nipples and washboard abs before tracing his finger along the bottom of the screen where there’s a trail of meticulously groomed hair leading downward. The image stops just short of showing the base of Bucky’s shaft, but Steve’s mesmerized by the splotches of creamy fluid streaking Bucky’s chest.


B: So horny for you, sugar. Jerked my cock this morning thinking of you. Started off the day all messy and wishing this was spilling out of your sweet hole.


S: You’d fill me up real good, Buck. I’m ass up right now, waiting for you to plug me full.


B: Pics or it didn’t happen.


Snorting in amusement, Steve strips quickly and squirts some lube on his fingers so he can work himself open. It doesn’t take long since he spent the night before with Bucky’s voice in his ear as he jammed himself full of a butt plug before jacking off twice. Phone sex with Bucky is on another level with that deep, soothing voice talking dirty to him in between sweet nothings that make Steve whimper with longing. Thank fuck for cell phones and no long-distance and a boyfriend who’s never too busy for him—at least in the few days they’ve been apart. The only issue they’ve encountered so far is Bucky’s lack of privacy. Living in the barracks with the other full-timers doesn’t afford too much time to himself. He’s had to get creative.


Stretching out on the bed, Steve makes sure to angle himself just right before clicking a picture with a remote. Technology is wonderful for people who have to be apart when they don’t want to be. Satisfied with the image, he sends it off to Bucky and waits for the reply. Unfortunately, Bucky must be busy because no answer comes for a few hours. It’s mid-day before he gets a reply that makes him sweat.


B: Gonna frame this masterpiece, sugar. That tight ass all worked open and twitching for me with that little devilish smirk over your shoulder. Consider this my love letter. I want to make sweet love to that peach all night long. Come bounce on my stick. I’ll take you for a pony ride.


The days pass slowly with more of the same. They sext during the day with phone sex at night until Steve’s sure he can’t come one more time. Two weeks after returning to Brooklyn, he opens his mailbox to find a letter scrawled in Bucky’s bold handwriting. The envelope’s stuffed full of Texas wildflower seeds and thick, creamy paper that’s much nicer than Steve would have expected if he’d ever thought about getting a physical letter from a West Texas cowboy. The words inked on the page almost make him weep. Bucky’s written prose so hauntingly beautiful that Steve can’t read it without his eyes going blurry.


Dear Sugar,

Sitting here on the porch at the barracks missing you something awful. The sun’s just set over the little strip of trees in the west, but I’m looking toward you, sweetheart. If I squint real hard, I swear I can see the lights of your city sparkling on the horizon and in the night sky. I know it’s not true, but you’re my source of light, my sun and moon and stars, that illuminates my path for the future.

I wanna marry you, sugar. I know it’s early in our relationship and that we live in different worlds. I’m too old for a sweet young thing like you, too grizzled and chewed up and spit out for your freshness and sweetness and optimism. You have so much you should get to have and experience before tying yourself to a roughneck like me, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting what I shouldn’t hope to have.

I’m trying to manage my expectations, you see. We never talked about the future past my visit in a few weeks, and maybe I’m selfish to want more with you. You can stop me if you want. I won’t be offended that you aspire to more than what I can offer you, but I need to confess it to you anyway.

I don’t have much, sugar. I’m a simple man who loves the sun and outdoors and the smell of fresh hay and the sound of cattle lowing. I’m nervous as hell about visiting your world and realizing how out of my league you are. I’m going to do it anyway because I want to understand you better, want to see my baby in his element and taking on the world. You’ve got such a fire, sugar, and I admire your passion and purpose. I don’t ever want to dim your brilliance. You’re the best of both of us.

Still, I hope someday you’ll be happy with little old me, that we can grow old together, build a life that bridges our two worlds and create a new one where you fit perfectly in my arms and around my body. I want to lose myself in you forever, sugar—deep inside where my seed does nothing but nurture you.

I ain’t proposing yet, sugar. Can’t slow you down right now, but when I do, I pray to the good Lord that you’ll find it in your heart to make me the happiest man on Earth. That’s what I am when I’m with you, sugar. You’re my everything. Love of my life. My sweetheart. My lover. My partner. My boyfriend. The future Mr. Bucky Barnes.

Only three weeks to go before I’m back by your side. Love you so much, sugar. Can’t wait for my next fix of you.

Forever yours,


The letter’s so like him that it seems like they’re in the same room together. Steve can almost feel Bucky’s presence next to him, warming him with his body heat and lighting up the space with his smile. A handwritten love letter might be out of time, but there’s an old-fashioned hint that feels just right for the man he fell in love with on the ranch. Eyes filled with unshed tears and wonder, Steve traces the ink before raising it to his lips so he can kiss the paper his lover touched.


S: When you propose, I’ll say yes. Can’t wait to be your husband.


B: Can’t wait to be yours. All in due time, though. My sugar has too many plans to put on hold for someone like me. I know you’re killing it out there, sweetheart. Love you to the stars and back.


S: That gives me a good idea for a surprise while you’re here. Got to get to planning your trip. Anything you want to do while you’re here?


B: The only thing I care about doing while I’m there is you in every way and position and room and second I can. Want to bury myself deep inside you and feel you squeezing my cock while you moan my name. Fuck, sugar. I’m so hard for you all the time. My arm’s about to fall off from jacking myself. Miss your sweet mouth and wide blue eyes when you look up at me so innocent with your mouth stuffed full of my dick.


S: I love how our texts just keep getting longer.


B: Like my cock when I think about you.


S: I’m rethinking my surprise. Behave, Buck.


B: You don’t mean that.


S: Behave when we’re apart and be a bad, bad boy when we’re together?


B: Is it bad if I’ve been thinking about how you’d feel inside me?


Gulping, Steve stares at his phone and tries to process what the words say. No matter how many times he reads it, they don’t make any more sense.


S: Are you saying you want me to fuck you?


B: Sugar, we’ve been fucking for months.


S: You know what I mean.


B: Anything wrong with that idea? You like dick in your ass well enough. Why shouldn’t I get it too?


S: Fuck! Hell yes. I’ll fuck you when you get here, as long as you return the favor. Need to be split open by you.


B: As long as my asshole boss doesn’t change his mind about my vacation…


S: What do you mean? I thought you had the time off already.


B: Thought I did too, but he’s telling me he needs me here because the vet visit that weekend is too important to miss. I’m no veterinarian, so I have no idea what that means. No matter. I’ll be there. Model ranch employee, so I deserve a few days to fly to see my man and get laid as much as I can before breeding season.


S: If I cosplay as a veterinarian, will you breed me?


Steve waits for several minutes, but the response comes slowly.


B: I don’t know what that means exactly, but if it involves you dripping with my cum then I’m all in, sugar.


S: Cosplaying means dressing up as a character, Buck. 😉


B: Smartass. I meant breeding.


S: I think you know exactly what that means.


B: Dirty, dirty, dirty boy.


S: Feel free to punish me when you get here.


B: You working toward a spanking?


S: Don’t tease.


B: I never do that. I always follow through.


S: Love you. Tell your boss that you’re a model employee and deserve a night off from the veterinarian so you can spank and breed your boyfriend before he fucks you in the ass for the first time. Can’t hurt to be honest, right?


B: Yeah, I’m not gonna do that. I’ll figure it out. Come hell or high water, I’ll be there next weekend. Call me later, sugar. Love you.


“I love you too, Buck. Love you so much,” he murmurs before grabbing his backpack and heading out the door. He’s got a class to get through without allowing his mind to wander to Bucky Barnes. It’s hopeless, but there are only a couple of weeks until they’re reunited. With a smile on his face, he heads into his afternoon class. Once it’s done, he can call Bucky and hear that sweet voice crooning in his ear.


It’s torture to get through the lecture, but finally he’s done, met with his lab partner, completed as much of his homework as he can, and headed home on the subway. By the time he opens his apartment door, he’s starving and throws together a quick dinner before picking up his phone and dialing Bucky’s number. Two rings is all it takes before Bucky answers.


“Hey, sugar,” he rumbles, and the deep baritone sends a shiver up and down Steve’s spine.


“Hi, Buck,” he replies, unable to breathe properly at the sound of his voice. “You free to talk?”


“Just finished up at the mess. I’m looking for somewhere private. Talk to me while I walk.”


“How was your day? Things settling down? Broken any more geldings?”


With a chuckle, Bucky answers, “I feel like that’s code for something, but I’m not sure. My day was good, although I missed my sweetheart, like always. We’ve got five geldings I’m working with now in between branding cattle and bucking bales and all the other stuff. One’s a real beaut. Gonna make the boss man a lot of money.”


“Sounds like a normal day.”


“Like a normal day before you came into my life,” he answers, his voice dropping an octave. “There we go, sugar. I’m all alone now. Just got your voice in my ear, and no one to stop me from doing whatever you tell me.”


Sucking in a breath, Steve bites his bottom lip for a second. “You gonna let me boss you around tonight? Wanting someone to tell you what to do?”


“That all depends, I think.”


“On what?”


“On what it is you want me to do.”


A rush of lust shoots through him as the sky darkens outside. The days are shorter now, heading for the fall equinox and changing leaves. It’s the time of year when Steve’s always wished for someone he can cuddle with under a blanket to keep from catching a chill, and now he has that—except that Bucky’s a time zone away. The unfairness of it all burns in his gut. He decides to take his frustration out on his lover.


“Take that fat cock out of your pants, Buck. Don’t get all the way undressed. Just shove it all down under your balls, so there’s some squeezing.”


There’s a brief pause before Bucky hisses, “Christ, sugar. That tone you just used. I’m about to salute you it’s so authoritative.”


“I’m not interested in any type of salute unless it’s from your dick, Buck. Shut up, and take it out.”


“Aye, Aye, Captain. Taking my cock out now, sir.”


“Palm it in your left hand. Feel the weight of it, and then squeeze it real tight.” When Bucky moans softly, Steve doubles down. “Yeah, squeeze it so it hurts, Buck. That’s how tight I’d be on  you if you were inside me right now, splitting me open and slamming inside me so hard you lift me right off the ground. Stroke it, Buck. Slow and steady. Set up a rhythm. Not too fast. Can’t have you blowing early, can I?”


“Fuck, sugar,” Bucky pants, his breath catching as his hand slides back and forth. “Tell me what else to do, sweetheart. I need it. Need to have you bossing me tonight. Stroking so slow. Can almost see it disappearing into your sweet, greedy hole as you take it.”


Steve’s got his own dick out now, his hand slick with lube as he slides it up and down leisurely. Soft gasps and moans fill the phone line, and Steve leans his head back and closes his eyes. They don’t have to talk right now, their mutual masturbation connecting them across the distance. Steve can almost smell the fresh air and clean hay, and the taste of Bucky’s sweat-drenched skin sits on the tip of his tongue.


“Work yourself open,” Steve murmurs softly. “If I’m gonna fuck you when you get here, you better get into practice. Keep those pants on—just drop them to your knees—and reach behind you. You feel that furled muscle? Yeah? Massage that. Yeah, Buck. I can hear how good that feels. Real gentle until you open up, and then just the tip of your finger. Don’t rush it. Relax, sweetheart. Pretend that’s me there with you. It might even be my tongue licking at your hole. It’s so tight from not getting used, but you’re gonna let me use you. Aren’t you, Buck? I’m gonna shove my hard cock so deep inside you. Fuck you so hard. Mount you and ram you from behind.”


“Sugar,” Bucky groans. “Fuck, sugar. I want that so bad. Want you inside me. Pounding into me. Want your cum filling me up and dripping from me the same way you let me blow inside you. Fuck, I miss you so much. Miss your peach and plums and the way your hot mouth sucks me down so hard. Miss the sound of your scream when I’m splitting you open, and the way you beg for more all the damn time.”


“You loose yet, Buck? I hear a lot of talk and not enough moaning. Do you have a finger inside yet? What about two? Do I need to remind you what you’re doing?”


“Yeah,” Bucky groans. “Yeah, I’ve— Shit, that feels so good, sugar. So full. God, I want— I’m so close.”


“Don’t you dare, Buck. Not yet.”


“Please, sugar. Fuck me, please. I need to come. Need to—”


“Listen to me, Buck. Listen. Are you listening?”


“Yeah,” Bucky moans, clearly about to lose control. “’M listening. Sugar, it feels so good. Got to get your cock up in me. Fuck!”


“I’m gonna count to ten, Buck. When I get to ten, you can come, but not before. Don’t you dare blow early, okay?”


“Yeah, sugar. Okay. Ten.”


“One. Two. Three. Four. Five.”


Steve’s stroking faster now, and it’s obvious Bucky is too. What Steve wouldn’t give for a visual of Bucky bent over with fingers in his ass and jacking himself with the other hand, head bent toward his shoulder to hold the phone there so he can hear Steve talking to him, plaid shirt hanging over his hips and his jeans bunched up at the knees.




“Faster, sugar. I’m not gonna last.”


“Don’t you dare, Buck. Seven.”






“Sugar, I can’t— I can’t!”


“Nine. Almost there, Buck. Keep stroking. Keep jacking yourself.”


“Steve, I’m so close. Please,” he moans.


“Nine and a half.”


Bucky howls on the other end, and Steve shoves a vibrating bullet against his own hole. The waves wash over him, making his legs quiver as he tries to hold off.


“Nine and three quarters.”


“Sugar, please,” Bucky pants. “Please, please, please.”


Pressure wells inside him, and he knows he’s there. As his cock twitches, he breathes into the phone, “ten.”


The sound Bucky makes reverberates through Steve as his climax bursts from him. Catching it with a towel, he whimpers as the cotton grazes against his flagging dick. Bucky’s whining deep in his throat, a groan so intense it hurts to hear. Heart pounding in his chest, Steve pants for several seconds before he whispers Bucky’s name. The only answer is a soft sob.


“You okay, Buck?” he croons. “You’re okay. I’m here.”


Snuffling fills the line for a long time until Bucky finally blubbers, “But you’re not, sugar. You’re not here, and I miss you something fierce. I’m so lost without you.”


Steve’s heart cracks in his chest as his face flushes and heat rolls through his limbs. Since they’ve been apart, Bucky’s held it together so well, but he’s broken tonight.


“It’s okay, Buck,” he murmurs. “Two weeks. That’s all—”


“Five weeks.”




“I can’t have off until the third week in October. Five weeks.”


“Your boss—”


“—told me right before chow.”




“I know, sugar. Miss you so much.”


The next sob that escapes is from his own throat. Whether he likes it or not, Steve’s going to have to wait to see Bucky again, and it’s as close to cruel and unusual punishment as he can imagine. Despondent, he stays on the line until Bucky has to return to the barracks. Then, he crawls into his own bed and tries to sleep. Maybe he can make time move faster if he’s not awake for all of it.