(no subject)
Title: Stay with Me
Author: Frodo_naatulien
Pairing: F/S
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Frodo’s a bit lonely and Sam is just what he needs. And Frodo is just what Sam needs.
A/N: (Squee!) This is my very first fic. Lots of fluff, I guess. Mild angst. It’s just simply- a day in the life of Frodo and Sam.
Sincere thanks to my beta and truly wonderful new friend, Lyrastar77. Thank you so much for your time and patience, and your wonderful suggestions. I know I’ve already told you this, but I’ll say it again. You were such a great help to me and you made the beta process very pleasant indeed. Thank you… thank you… thank you! : )
Warning(s): There is one small scene that involves questionable intentions, but that’s about all the warning that is needed really. And after reading, you'll see that it all comes together and makes perfect, loving sense.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Just borrowing them from J.R.R. Tolkien for… as Bilbo put it, “just a bit of fun.”
Part 2 - First Things First
Sam led Frodo down the dark hall towards the back of the smial where Frodo’s room was. Frodo still hadn’t brought himself to move into the master bedroom, which had been Bilbo’s for so long, and he wasn’t quite sure that he ever would. He didn’t see the need really. He was quite happy and content where he was, in his own cozy little room; at least, for the time being anyhow.
Sam went straight for the hearth. He lit the candle on the mantle then used the candle to light the fire, which was really more for atmosphere and light than anything else. They obviously didn’t need the heat from the fire but the storm had made it quite dark outside, which, of course, made it even darker inside. In truth, it seemed much later than it was.
Frodo headed for his bed. He felt a little weak and could feel himself trembling inside and out. Whether it was from lack of food - he honestly hadn’t had much in the way of sustenance today, having slept through first and second breakfast - or from this almost unbearable aching need, Frodo wasn’t quite sure, although if he had to choose, he would have picked the latter hands down. But one thing he was fairly certain of was that his legs weren’t going to hold him up much longer, so sitting down seemed the reasonable thing to do.
Having lit the fire, Sam slowly and silently walked over to the side of the bed and placed the candle on the bedside table. The candlelight flickered golden across one side of Frodo’s face, shadowing the other. He stepped closer to Frodo, placing himself between Frodo’s legs, and began trailing his fingers lightly down the side of Frodo’s face, Frodo’s breath quickening with every touch. He spoke nothing aloud to Frodo. He spoke only through his soft gaze and his gentle touch. He slid his fingers under Frodo’s chin, tilting his face upwards towards him then leaned in and placed a gentle, lingering, warm kiss on Frodo’s lips.
Frodo’s hands came up, grabbing at Sam’s shirtfront, trying to pull him closer, as he parted his lips letting Sam in and… Oh! All he wanted was Sam.
Sam broke the kiss and slowly and gently pushed Frodo down on the bed and crawled up over him. He reached back for the candle and moved it to the table on the other side of the bed so that he could see Frodo’s face better, then he slid a hand to the buttons on Frodo’s shirt and slowly began opening them one by one, exposing Frodo’s smooth, bare chest, which was rising and falling rapidly with anticipation. For a moment he just hovered over Frodo, staring down at what lay before him, and thankin’ the Lady herself, and askin’ himself - How was it that he, Samwise Gamgee, just a simple gardener, got to be so lucky as to win the love and affections of Frodo Baggins? He almost couldn’t fathom it. He could feel his eyes starting to prickle with tears.
Frodo stared back and then broke the silence with a whispered and concerned, albeit a bit weak and shaky, “Sam, are you all right?”
What Sam wanted to say was - Oh yes, Frodo, I am more than all right. Instead, he murmured softly, “Mm-hmm.” He blinked back the tears and smiled, speaking low and soft, “My but you are a sight, Frodo Baggins,” then smoothed his warm hand slowly over Frodo’s chest, lightly caressing, “I don’t think I can take my eyes off you.”
Frodo smiled back, his whole body prickling and tingling with goose bumps from Sam’s warm touch. “Then I don’t want you to, Sam,” he lovingly answered.
Outside, the rain was coming down hard. Occasional gusts of wind would smack the rain against the window making loud pinging sounds against the glass. The lightning flickered rapidly and unpredictably and the thunder rolled and rumbled across the sky shaking the ground. Then suddenly there was a blinding flash in the sky that lit up the room, followed by a loud crack that made them both jump, momentarily breaking the mood.
Frodo began to sit up but Sam stayed him. “Ohhh,” Frodo frowned, a trace of fear mounting in his voice, “I really don’t like it when it does that.”
Without hesitating, Sam grabbed Frodo’s wrists and pinned them to the bed on either side of his head.
“Speakin’ o’ storms… “ he said, as he bent down and placed a soft, warm kiss on Frodo’s forehead, hoping to redirect Frodo’s thoughts so as to take his mind off of what was going on outside.
Frodo took a deep breath then smiled a little hesitantly and closed his eyes as Sam spoke softly and unhurriedly…
“Let’s see…” he began slowly, as he bent down and kissed Frodo’s brow, “… what I can do…” -kisses other brow- “to take the edge… “-kisses lashes- “off of yours a little!” quick kiss to the tip of the nose.
Frodo’s eyes remained closed, and Sam watched as Frodo’s lips slowly curled into a smile. Then he brushed his lips slowly across Frodo’s smiling lips, kissing ever so lightly, and then began licking and nipping at his bottom lip. He traced his tongue between Frodo’s top and bottom lip, silently asking for entry, and Frodo’s lips parted open. Sam slipped his tongue in his mouth and Frodo moaned and sucked it gently and before Frodo could catch up with what was happening, Sam pulled away.
Frodo’s eyes slowly opened and his lips opened and closed, but nothing came out. He was unable to force anything out other than a strangled whimper.
Sam just smiled and chuckled to himself. Well, that was easy enough.
Releasing Frodo’s wrists, Sam propped himself up on one hand while still straddling Frodo’s hips. He studied Frodo’s face closely while he reached down slowly with the other hand, even lower now, gliding over a flat, taut stomach and down along a soft trail of hair to work the buttons open on Frodo’s breeches. Frodo’s eyes were open and he appeared to be looking Sam straight in the eyes, but Sam could tell he wasn’t quite seeing anything. Then, Frodo grabbed the bedcovers and shoved off of the beds side-rail with his feet, pushing and lifting his hips up into the air trying to press up against Sam, to press up against something, anything - to get pressure where he needed it most - and in doing so, he practically lifted Sam up off the bed also.
“Sam,” Frodo pleaded, panting.
Without saying a word, Sam pushed him back down and quickly worked his hand through the folds of cloth while trailing wet kisses across Frodo’s chest and along his sharp collarbone, up along his throat, up over his jaw and ending with his lips crushed to Frodo’s while he grasped Frodo’s hot, hard erection, squeezing him tight then stroking him slowly but firmly. Frodo’s hips jolted and his stomach quivered in tiny little spasms and he involuntarily jerked his head away as he sucked in sharply, and then let out a soft cry. Sam backed away, observing intently every inch of Frodo’s face, trying so desperately to permanently imprint in his mind every little minute twitch and change in Frodo’s expression. He didn’t want to miss a thing. Sam continued stroking him up and down slowly, rubbing his thumb over the tip, smearing the leaking fluid, causing Frodo a sensation that was just plain excruciatingly arousing.
Dark, long lashes swept downward slowly and Frodo gasped and shuddered then breathed out a long, low moan, “Ohhh Saaamm.”
Sam caught the end of that moan in his mouth as he bent down again to kiss Frodo. He kissed him lazily and unhurried this time, taking pleasure in each and every sound and each and every movement he elicited, whether by mouth or by hand, from Frodo, until finally Frodo opened his eyes again and begged him, breathless, “P… pl… please, Sam!”
Sam knew Frodo wouldn’t last much longer, so he complied and began pumping him harder and faster and Frodo was moving in rhythm right along with him.
Still looking up at Sam he let out a strangled, panting moan, “ngh…S-Sa… uhhh.“ Sam knew, without a doubt, Frodo was teetering on the edge. Frodo’s breath caught and his face and chest grew flushed; his body arched and his face twisted and all the while Sam was staring at him in wonder. It filled him with such exhilaration to know that he, Sam Gamgee, was the one bringing Frodo to such excruciating pleasure. And Frodo looked so beautiful in this moment; it took Sam’s breath away.
Suddenly, Frodo’s hips slowed, and his body went rigid. He began panting desperately, and then sucked in a deep breath through clenched teeth. His eyes squeezed shut, and then he jerked hard, throwing his head back while his hands fisted into the bedcovers, his knuckles turning white from his grip, and then he yelled out wordlessly. His hot seed shot out like liquid fire all over Sam’s hand and his own belly, his body convulsing with spasms and his lungs gasping for breath, and he almost took Sam right over the edge with him.
Sam is convinced he’s never seen a more beautiful sight. He just stares at him in complete wonder.
~~*~~
Frodo’s body fell limp and his face was now relaxed and Sam, still hovering over him, watched as his eyes came back into focus and Frodo slowly came back to him.
Frodo threw his arms up over his head recklessly, his breath still wheezing rapid and ragged. His body was slick with sweat and his shirt was still half on, so he brought an arm up and crooked it over his eyes, wiping the sweat with his sleeve and plopped it back over his head, “My dear… Sam” he said in between wheezes.
Sam bent down and kissed him and whispered against his lips, “You are so beautiful.”
“And you are so… ” Frodo smiled, staring up at Sam while still trying to catch his breath. “That was… that was… wonderful, Sam.”
Sam just smiled, still in awe, and thought he might have to pinch himself to make sure this was all real. This was certainly not their first intimate moment. He’d seen Frodo like this before, but each time seemed better than the last somehow. He reached for the towel on the bedside table and wiped his hand off then Frodo’s belly and then dropped down on the bed beside Frodo. They lay there side by side; both of them just staring up at the ceiling, Sam just listening as Frodo’s breathing began to slow.
Then Frodo began, trying to hold back a smirk, “Although, Sam… do you think beautiful is a word for a lad? I don’t believe lads call other lads beautiful, do they?”
Sam’s eyebrows rose in astonishment then he rolled up on his side, “Don’t they now?” he said light-heartedly, as he took his hand and tousled Frodo’s hair, “And what would they be callin’ ‘em then?”
Frodo giggled, “Ohhhh, I don’t know… “ he answered, seeming now as if he were deep in thought. “Perhaps handsome maybe, or fine-looking I suppose, or something along those lines, wouldn’t you think?”
“Well, you’re all o’ that too, Frodo… and you’re beautiful!” he answered, and when Frodo turned towards Sam and their eyes met he continued fervently, “You ain’t like other hobbits, Frodo. Why, there ain’t a lad… or even a lass for that matter, in all the four farthings put together that could stand up to you in the way o’ looks. Leastways, not in my eyes,” he finished, with a big grin.
Frodo simply smiled and said softly, “I love you, you know.”
Sam smiled also and whispered back, “Aye, I love you too, Frodo.”
Then Sam’s smile faded, his expression taking on a more serious demeanor. Then he began, “But now… “ and paused.
Frodo looked at him somewhat bewildered, “But now, Sam?” he asked, uncertain as to what took that smile so quickly off of Sam’s face.
“But now, Frodo… “ Sam continued, “I need you to promise me something.”
Frodo chuckled with amusement, “Of course, Sam, anything. What would you like me to promise you?”
Sam looked Frodo in the eyes, and that look alone was all it took to quickly sober the conversation. “Beggin’ your pardon and all, but I ain’t funnin’ now, Frodo.” And after he said it, uncertainty began to creep through his bones, and for a split second he wished he could take it back. But there was nothin’ for it, it was already said as it were, so he continued with the hopes of justifying his boldness, “I want… “ he hesitated. “I mean… I need you to promise me.”
Frodo’s brows furrowed and his expression grew concerned, “All right Sam, what is it?”
Sam scooted closer and laid his hand on Frodo’s chest, “Promise me… promise me you’ll not go daydreamin’ when you’re cookin’ at the stove anymore.”
Frodo sighed with relief. “Sam, I’m perfectly cap…”
“No!” Sam immediately interrupted, “Promise me, Frodo!” And it came out almost as a desperate demand but Frodo’s lackadaisical response set him off a bit and to Sam, this was too important to just brush off so lightly.
Frodo knew from the tone in Sam’s voice that he shouldn’t make light of this and, though he was moved by Sam’s concern, he also felt a bit guilty for causing that concern and making him worry like that. He laid his hands over Sam’s and spoke softly, “I’m sorry, Sam.” Then he leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, “All right then… yes, I promise.”
There was a short pause and then Sam replied, looking somewhat discomfited, “All right then.”
He was relieved that Frodo didn’t get mad at him or think he had overstepped his station. Leastways, he didn’t let on if he did, or if he was mad. But he was a bit disappointed in himself for putting a damper on their fun.
Nevertheless, the seriousness vanished as quickly as it appeared and a huge grin swept across Sam’s face, “That was a mighty good appetizer you just served up there, Frodo. But, now do you think we could go have some of that fabulous looking lunch you cooked up earlier?”
They both laughed hysterically and this confirmed to Sam that Frodo wasn’t mad at him.
“Sam! Please tell me that is not what you were thinking about while I was… while you were… well… you know.”
“Well, no, o’course not,” he chuckled. “It’s just that… I thought… “And he looked at Frodo with a playful grin, “The sooner we eat, the sooner we can… get to them afters, if you take my meanin’.”
Frodo laughed, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, and then he, too, took on a serious tone, “You don’t have to wait, Sam,” he said. He wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck and pulled him over onto him. He could feel Sam’s hardness pressing on his belly. “I’d be more than happy to pleasure you now Sam, if you’d like.”
But Sam was quick to answer, “I’m thinkin’ I’d like to wait, Mr. Frodo.”
Frodo raised an eyebrow and grinned, albeit doubtfully, “All right Sam, if you’re sure that’s what you’d like.”
“Oh, yes… that I’d be sure of,” was Sam’s simple reply. Then he bent down and took Frodo’s bottom lip gently between his teeth, teasing it with his tongue and then teasingly said, “I’m saving you for dessert if that’s all right with you.”
Frodo broke into laughter again and replied happily, “Then dessert I shall be, Sam. Dessert I shall be.”
After one more quick swipe with the towel and putting his clothes back to rights, Frodo gave Sam a quick hug and said, “Now then, let’s go eat, shall we?”
~*~
Secretly, Frodo was delighted that Sam was willing to wait because, to Frodo, this clearly meant that Sam had already, consciously planned on spending more time with him. Something Frodo so desperately wanted.
As time went on, Frodo surprisingly found that more and more he disliked being alone, which was a complete turn around from his younger years; quite specifically, his years as a young lad at Brandy Hall, where there, he practically craved for solitude.
But solitude was far from his thoughts these days and he especially didn’t like being alone when evening time rolled around, and especially now that he and Sam had declared their love for each other - not so long ago.
Being alone always seemed to awaken that certain part of his brain that held memories of things long passed; things in the past that he would just as soon not think about; things that he didn’t want to forget exactly but things that he didn’t want to remember at the same time; things that triggered and set off unwanted fears and anxieties.
But Sam eased those fears and anxieties, so it stood to reason that the more Sam was around, the more Frodo was at ease. And that was extremely comforting to Frodo.
TBC
Part 3 - Afters.
Author: Frodo_naatulien
Pairing: F/S
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Frodo’s a bit lonely and Sam is just what he needs. And Frodo is just what Sam needs.
A/N: (Squee!) This is my very first fic. Lots of fluff, I guess. Mild angst. It’s just simply- a day in the life of Frodo and Sam.
Sincere thanks to my beta and truly wonderful new friend, Lyrastar77. Thank you so much for your time and patience, and your wonderful suggestions. I know I’ve already told you this, but I’ll say it again. You were such a great help to me and you made the beta process very pleasant indeed. Thank you… thank you… thank you! : )
Warning(s): There is one small scene that involves questionable intentions, but that’s about all the warning that is needed really. And after reading, you'll see that it all comes together and makes perfect, loving sense.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Just borrowing them from J.R.R. Tolkien for… as Bilbo put it, “just a bit of fun.”
Part 2 - First Things First
Sam led Frodo down the dark hall towards the back of the smial where Frodo’s room was. Frodo still hadn’t brought himself to move into the master bedroom, which had been Bilbo’s for so long, and he wasn’t quite sure that he ever would. He didn’t see the need really. He was quite happy and content where he was, in his own cozy little room; at least, for the time being anyhow.
Sam went straight for the hearth. He lit the candle on the mantle then used the candle to light the fire, which was really more for atmosphere and light than anything else. They obviously didn’t need the heat from the fire but the storm had made it quite dark outside, which, of course, made it even darker inside. In truth, it seemed much later than it was.
Frodo headed for his bed. He felt a little weak and could feel himself trembling inside and out. Whether it was from lack of food - he honestly hadn’t had much in the way of sustenance today, having slept through first and second breakfast - or from this almost unbearable aching need, Frodo wasn’t quite sure, although if he had to choose, he would have picked the latter hands down. But one thing he was fairly certain of was that his legs weren’t going to hold him up much longer, so sitting down seemed the reasonable thing to do.
Having lit the fire, Sam slowly and silently walked over to the side of the bed and placed the candle on the bedside table. The candlelight flickered golden across one side of Frodo’s face, shadowing the other. He stepped closer to Frodo, placing himself between Frodo’s legs, and began trailing his fingers lightly down the side of Frodo’s face, Frodo’s breath quickening with every touch. He spoke nothing aloud to Frodo. He spoke only through his soft gaze and his gentle touch. He slid his fingers under Frodo’s chin, tilting his face upwards towards him then leaned in and placed a gentle, lingering, warm kiss on Frodo’s lips.
Frodo’s hands came up, grabbing at Sam’s shirtfront, trying to pull him closer, as he parted his lips letting Sam in and… Oh! All he wanted was Sam.
Sam broke the kiss and slowly and gently pushed Frodo down on the bed and crawled up over him. He reached back for the candle and moved it to the table on the other side of the bed so that he could see Frodo’s face better, then he slid a hand to the buttons on Frodo’s shirt and slowly began opening them one by one, exposing Frodo’s smooth, bare chest, which was rising and falling rapidly with anticipation. For a moment he just hovered over Frodo, staring down at what lay before him, and thankin’ the Lady herself, and askin’ himself - How was it that he, Samwise Gamgee, just a simple gardener, got to be so lucky as to win the love and affections of Frodo Baggins? He almost couldn’t fathom it. He could feel his eyes starting to prickle with tears.
Frodo stared back and then broke the silence with a whispered and concerned, albeit a bit weak and shaky, “Sam, are you all right?”
What Sam wanted to say was - Oh yes, Frodo, I am more than all right. Instead, he murmured softly, “Mm-hmm.” He blinked back the tears and smiled, speaking low and soft, “My but you are a sight, Frodo Baggins,” then smoothed his warm hand slowly over Frodo’s chest, lightly caressing, “I don’t think I can take my eyes off you.”
Frodo smiled back, his whole body prickling and tingling with goose bumps from Sam’s warm touch. “Then I don’t want you to, Sam,” he lovingly answered.
Outside, the rain was coming down hard. Occasional gusts of wind would smack the rain against the window making loud pinging sounds against the glass. The lightning flickered rapidly and unpredictably and the thunder rolled and rumbled across the sky shaking the ground. Then suddenly there was a blinding flash in the sky that lit up the room, followed by a loud crack that made them both jump, momentarily breaking the mood.
Frodo began to sit up but Sam stayed him. “Ohhh,” Frodo frowned, a trace of fear mounting in his voice, “I really don’t like it when it does that.”
Without hesitating, Sam grabbed Frodo’s wrists and pinned them to the bed on either side of his head.
“Speakin’ o’ storms… “ he said, as he bent down and placed a soft, warm kiss on Frodo’s forehead, hoping to redirect Frodo’s thoughts so as to take his mind off of what was going on outside.
Frodo took a deep breath then smiled a little hesitantly and closed his eyes as Sam spoke softly and unhurriedly…
“Let’s see…” he began slowly, as he bent down and kissed Frodo’s brow, “… what I can do…” -kisses other brow- “to take the edge… “-kisses lashes- “off of yours a little!” quick kiss to the tip of the nose.
Frodo’s eyes remained closed, and Sam watched as Frodo’s lips slowly curled into a smile. Then he brushed his lips slowly across Frodo’s smiling lips, kissing ever so lightly, and then began licking and nipping at his bottom lip. He traced his tongue between Frodo’s top and bottom lip, silently asking for entry, and Frodo’s lips parted open. Sam slipped his tongue in his mouth and Frodo moaned and sucked it gently and before Frodo could catch up with what was happening, Sam pulled away.
Frodo’s eyes slowly opened and his lips opened and closed, but nothing came out. He was unable to force anything out other than a strangled whimper.
Sam just smiled and chuckled to himself. Well, that was easy enough.
Releasing Frodo’s wrists, Sam propped himself up on one hand while still straddling Frodo’s hips. He studied Frodo’s face closely while he reached down slowly with the other hand, even lower now, gliding over a flat, taut stomach and down along a soft trail of hair to work the buttons open on Frodo’s breeches. Frodo’s eyes were open and he appeared to be looking Sam straight in the eyes, but Sam could tell he wasn’t quite seeing anything. Then, Frodo grabbed the bedcovers and shoved off of the beds side-rail with his feet, pushing and lifting his hips up into the air trying to press up against Sam, to press up against something, anything - to get pressure where he needed it most - and in doing so, he practically lifted Sam up off the bed also.
“Sam,” Frodo pleaded, panting.
Without saying a word, Sam pushed him back down and quickly worked his hand through the folds of cloth while trailing wet kisses across Frodo’s chest and along his sharp collarbone, up along his throat, up over his jaw and ending with his lips crushed to Frodo’s while he grasped Frodo’s hot, hard erection, squeezing him tight then stroking him slowly but firmly. Frodo’s hips jolted and his stomach quivered in tiny little spasms and he involuntarily jerked his head away as he sucked in sharply, and then let out a soft cry. Sam backed away, observing intently every inch of Frodo’s face, trying so desperately to permanently imprint in his mind every little minute twitch and change in Frodo’s expression. He didn’t want to miss a thing. Sam continued stroking him up and down slowly, rubbing his thumb over the tip, smearing the leaking fluid, causing Frodo a sensation that was just plain excruciatingly arousing.
Dark, long lashes swept downward slowly and Frodo gasped and shuddered then breathed out a long, low moan, “Ohhh Saaamm.”
Sam caught the end of that moan in his mouth as he bent down again to kiss Frodo. He kissed him lazily and unhurried this time, taking pleasure in each and every sound and each and every movement he elicited, whether by mouth or by hand, from Frodo, until finally Frodo opened his eyes again and begged him, breathless, “P… pl… please, Sam!”
Sam knew Frodo wouldn’t last much longer, so he complied and began pumping him harder and faster and Frodo was moving in rhythm right along with him.
Still looking up at Sam he let out a strangled, panting moan, “ngh…S-Sa… uhhh.“ Sam knew, without a doubt, Frodo was teetering on the edge. Frodo’s breath caught and his face and chest grew flushed; his body arched and his face twisted and all the while Sam was staring at him in wonder. It filled him with such exhilaration to know that he, Sam Gamgee, was the one bringing Frodo to such excruciating pleasure. And Frodo looked so beautiful in this moment; it took Sam’s breath away.
Suddenly, Frodo’s hips slowed, and his body went rigid. He began panting desperately, and then sucked in a deep breath through clenched teeth. His eyes squeezed shut, and then he jerked hard, throwing his head back while his hands fisted into the bedcovers, his knuckles turning white from his grip, and then he yelled out wordlessly. His hot seed shot out like liquid fire all over Sam’s hand and his own belly, his body convulsing with spasms and his lungs gasping for breath, and he almost took Sam right over the edge with him.
Sam is convinced he’s never seen a more beautiful sight. He just stares at him in complete wonder.
~~*~~
Frodo’s body fell limp and his face was now relaxed and Sam, still hovering over him, watched as his eyes came back into focus and Frodo slowly came back to him.
Frodo threw his arms up over his head recklessly, his breath still wheezing rapid and ragged. His body was slick with sweat and his shirt was still half on, so he brought an arm up and crooked it over his eyes, wiping the sweat with his sleeve and plopped it back over his head, “My dear… Sam” he said in between wheezes.
Sam bent down and kissed him and whispered against his lips, “You are so beautiful.”
“And you are so… ” Frodo smiled, staring up at Sam while still trying to catch his breath. “That was… that was… wonderful, Sam.”
Sam just smiled, still in awe, and thought he might have to pinch himself to make sure this was all real. This was certainly not their first intimate moment. He’d seen Frodo like this before, but each time seemed better than the last somehow. He reached for the towel on the bedside table and wiped his hand off then Frodo’s belly and then dropped down on the bed beside Frodo. They lay there side by side; both of them just staring up at the ceiling, Sam just listening as Frodo’s breathing began to slow.
Then Frodo began, trying to hold back a smirk, “Although, Sam… do you think beautiful is a word for a lad? I don’t believe lads call other lads beautiful, do they?”
Sam’s eyebrows rose in astonishment then he rolled up on his side, “Don’t they now?” he said light-heartedly, as he took his hand and tousled Frodo’s hair, “And what would they be callin’ ‘em then?”
Frodo giggled, “Ohhhh, I don’t know… “ he answered, seeming now as if he were deep in thought. “Perhaps handsome maybe, or fine-looking I suppose, or something along those lines, wouldn’t you think?”
“Well, you’re all o’ that too, Frodo… and you’re beautiful!” he answered, and when Frodo turned towards Sam and their eyes met he continued fervently, “You ain’t like other hobbits, Frodo. Why, there ain’t a lad… or even a lass for that matter, in all the four farthings put together that could stand up to you in the way o’ looks. Leastways, not in my eyes,” he finished, with a big grin.
Frodo simply smiled and said softly, “I love you, you know.”
Sam smiled also and whispered back, “Aye, I love you too, Frodo.”
Then Sam’s smile faded, his expression taking on a more serious demeanor. Then he began, “But now… “ and paused.
Frodo looked at him somewhat bewildered, “But now, Sam?” he asked, uncertain as to what took that smile so quickly off of Sam’s face.
“But now, Frodo… “ Sam continued, “I need you to promise me something.”
Frodo chuckled with amusement, “Of course, Sam, anything. What would you like me to promise you?”
Sam looked Frodo in the eyes, and that look alone was all it took to quickly sober the conversation. “Beggin’ your pardon and all, but I ain’t funnin’ now, Frodo.” And after he said it, uncertainty began to creep through his bones, and for a split second he wished he could take it back. But there was nothin’ for it, it was already said as it were, so he continued with the hopes of justifying his boldness, “I want… “ he hesitated. “I mean… I need you to promise me.”
Frodo’s brows furrowed and his expression grew concerned, “All right Sam, what is it?”
Sam scooted closer and laid his hand on Frodo’s chest, “Promise me… promise me you’ll not go daydreamin’ when you’re cookin’ at the stove anymore.”
Frodo sighed with relief. “Sam, I’m perfectly cap…”
“No!” Sam immediately interrupted, “Promise me, Frodo!” And it came out almost as a desperate demand but Frodo’s lackadaisical response set him off a bit and to Sam, this was too important to just brush off so lightly.
Frodo knew from the tone in Sam’s voice that he shouldn’t make light of this and, though he was moved by Sam’s concern, he also felt a bit guilty for causing that concern and making him worry like that. He laid his hands over Sam’s and spoke softly, “I’m sorry, Sam.” Then he leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, “All right then… yes, I promise.”
There was a short pause and then Sam replied, looking somewhat discomfited, “All right then.”
He was relieved that Frodo didn’t get mad at him or think he had overstepped his station. Leastways, he didn’t let on if he did, or if he was mad. But he was a bit disappointed in himself for putting a damper on their fun.
Nevertheless, the seriousness vanished as quickly as it appeared and a huge grin swept across Sam’s face, “That was a mighty good appetizer you just served up there, Frodo. But, now do you think we could go have some of that fabulous looking lunch you cooked up earlier?”
They both laughed hysterically and this confirmed to Sam that Frodo wasn’t mad at him.
“Sam! Please tell me that is not what you were thinking about while I was… while you were… well… you know.”
“Well, no, o’course not,” he chuckled. “It’s just that… I thought… “And he looked at Frodo with a playful grin, “The sooner we eat, the sooner we can… get to them afters, if you take my meanin’.”
Frodo laughed, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, and then he, too, took on a serious tone, “You don’t have to wait, Sam,” he said. He wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck and pulled him over onto him. He could feel Sam’s hardness pressing on his belly. “I’d be more than happy to pleasure you now Sam, if you’d like.”
But Sam was quick to answer, “I’m thinkin’ I’d like to wait, Mr. Frodo.”
Frodo raised an eyebrow and grinned, albeit doubtfully, “All right Sam, if you’re sure that’s what you’d like.”
“Oh, yes… that I’d be sure of,” was Sam’s simple reply. Then he bent down and took Frodo’s bottom lip gently between his teeth, teasing it with his tongue and then teasingly said, “I’m saving you for dessert if that’s all right with you.”
Frodo broke into laughter again and replied happily, “Then dessert I shall be, Sam. Dessert I shall be.”
After one more quick swipe with the towel and putting his clothes back to rights, Frodo gave Sam a quick hug and said, “Now then, let’s go eat, shall we?”
~*~
Secretly, Frodo was delighted that Sam was willing to wait because, to Frodo, this clearly meant that Sam had already, consciously planned on spending more time with him. Something Frodo so desperately wanted.
As time went on, Frodo surprisingly found that more and more he disliked being alone, which was a complete turn around from his younger years; quite specifically, his years as a young lad at Brandy Hall, where there, he practically craved for solitude.
But solitude was far from his thoughts these days and he especially didn’t like being alone when evening time rolled around, and especially now that he and Sam had declared their love for each other - not so long ago.
Being alone always seemed to awaken that certain part of his brain that held memories of things long passed; things in the past that he would just as soon not think about; things that he didn’t want to forget exactly but things that he didn’t want to remember at the same time; things that triggered and set off unwanted fears and anxieties.
But Sam eased those fears and anxieties, so it stood to reason that the more Sam was around, the more Frodo was at ease. And that was extremely comforting to Frodo.
TBC
Part 3 - Afters.