Old Winyards

Chapter: Eleven
Pairing: Frodo/Sam
Authors: Catherine and Thuri
Rating: E
Warnings: Explicit m/m sex; Strong language; Angst; Lots of h/c
Summary: Frodo comforts Sam in the wake of the conversation with the Gaffer.

Author's note: Takes place about four hours after Chapter Ten ('Cast Out').


Frodo woke with a sense of urgency, feeling for Sam in the bed beside him. He found cold sheets and began to worry. He blinked. It was dark outside the window. He peered at the clock. It informed him that it was now 6:27 p.m. He groaned, both at that realisation and at the fact that the urgency he’d felt was now physical. He pulled himself up, finally, making his way to the bathroom on his own. "Good. Getting better..." Of course, that was before his eyes closed, and he nearly fell asleep on the toilet.

Sam walked into the bedroom, bleak and drained. He sat down on the bed and wondered where Frodo had disappeared. "Oh, Frodo, I do wish you was here, even though I'm glad you managed to get up," he murmured.

"I'll be done in a minute," Frodo called, rousing himself, and blinking. Fuck, but he'd be glad when he got his strength back...

"Let me know if you need anything, love," said Sam, pulling himself together. He was dismayed to find that he felt so awkward, now, in Frodo's bedroom. He refused to cry again. He'd had quite enough of that earlier, thank you very much, so there was no need for any more, no matter how much he may have felt like it. He put his head in his hands and wondered just when he'd turned into an emo schoolgirl.

Frodo washed his hands, and walked back, frowning when he saw Sam. "What's wrong, love?"

Sam groaned. "Nothing. Everything. What isn't wrong?" He massaged his head, gingerly. "He shouted so loud, I got a headache," he muttered.

Frodo settled beside him, silently taking over rubbing the tension from Sam's head. "I'm sorry. I wish I wasn't the cause of it..."

Sam sighed, leaning into the touch. "It ain't you, love. It's me Dad, and the way things are in his world. You keep your place, and don't do nothing to look like you're trying to go above it. There's the gentry, and there's the rest of us, and never the twain shall meet." He pulled away, gently. "I broke that rule, and now it seems I ain't fit for his company, any more'n I'm fit for yours," he said, covering the sound of threatening tears, which he pushed viciously back.

Frodo folded him in his arms, not sure what else to do. "Oh Sam..."

Sam trembled at Frodo's touch. He wouldn't cry, he wouldn't... “Oh, fuck,” he said as the tears pushed their way out, anyway. "Bloody hell! First I cry, then I swear. Twice!" He squeezed his hand over his eyes, stiff and tense as a rock in Frodo's arms.

"Sam... I don't mind if you cry," Frodo said, trying to relax his lover's muscles and failing. "Or if you swear. I think you should do one or the other before you fly apart. But if you want me to leave so you feel comfortable enough..."

Sam's hand unlocked from his face and latched onto the first piece of Frodo it could find: a sharp collarbone, in this case. "No," he said, a stiff reed of tension lodging itself in his voice, "I already tried being alone. Doesn't seem to've worked…" He dug his fingers into Frodo, flinching when he yelped. "Sorry," he said, taking his hand away and clenching it in his lap. "Can't seem to be anywhere, right now."

Frodo pulled Sam down to lie with him on the bed, moulding his body to his lover's. "You can be in my arms, knowing I love you with all my heart," he murmured. "I'm sorry, more sorry than I can ever tell you, that being with me has upset your father. But I'm not giving you up. Not for anything. You're mine, Sam Gamgee."

Sam lay trembling in Frodo's arms. "I..." As he felt Frodo's hand soothing and caressing his iron-stiff neck and shoulder, he was reminded sharply of his mother's touch and a wave of aching loneliness overtook him. "I wish I could talk to me mum," he managed. "She always knew what was best."

"I wish you could, too," Frodo murmured, kissing his brow.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, clinging to Frodo. He hadn't realized how much he had missed his mother's kind wisdom. She had always known he was different, and had always been willing to listen to him, no matter where his flights of fancy took him. When she had died, he'd not been able to find anyone else to talk to about his feelings, his hopes, his dreams. The drab, empty space left in his family when she passed away was never really filled by the memories of Gamgee children teasing each other between school and work assignments, of various rites of passage as time marched on, of scuffles, set-tos and gruff reconciliations; of loving moments being held through a nightmare or a thunderstorm by Daisy or Hal.

"I love you, Sam," Frodo murmured again. "You'll always have a place with me, always. No matter what else happens, I will swear that."

"I -- I ... Th - Thank you." Sam's stuttered whisper seemed alien to his own ears. When had he begun to sound this helpless? Was this pitiable creature all that he could offer to Frodo? Surely he deserved better than that. And then, he realized that his father's voice was echoing loudly in his head, saying words that the Gaffer would never say. "I need... your voice... Please?"

"I love you. You are the strongest, noblest, most amazing man I know. I can trust you with my soul, my life. I feel safe with you, Sam. Safe, and protected, and happier than I've been in years. You are everything I dreamed you would be. Gentle, steady, loving... and so kind! I never knew sex could be so beautiful, such a joining of our selves, not just our bodies. I want to hold you in my arms always, feel you beneath me, in me, everywhere."

"All right, now you're making me cry," sniffled Sam. "Damn, I thought I'd finished," he said, wetly. "Oh... Bloody hell!" He curled down into Frodo's arms. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"You never have to apologize to me for crying," Frodo said firmly. "I want you to always, always show me how you feel."

And that, at last, knocked the breath and fight out of Sam. He gave in and wept hard, wracking sobs from the depths of his soul; unvarnished, unfiltered, raw. He hoped to God that Frodo had meant what he’d said.

Frodo gathered him closer, doing what he could to absorb the sobs, the pain in them. He said nothing, but held Sam tightly, trying to show him how much he was loved.

At long last, the tears began to slow, and Sam kissed Frodo, shyly. "Thank you," he managed.

Frodo kissed him back, cradling him closer. "You're welcome, but it's no more than I'm happy to give. You'd do the same for me."

"That I would," said Sam, instantly. "Always..." He kissed Frodo with more confidence. "I love you. And I want to be with you, always. But not..." He pulled in a deep breath and let it out, shaking. "Not because I don't have nowhere else to go. You deserve better than that."

Frodo smiled softy. "Never doubt that I want you just as much as you want me, Samwise Gamgee."

Sam stroked Frodo's face and looked deep into his eyes. "I'm the luckiest man on the earth, I am." He closed his lips on Frodo's, sealing himself to him.

There was a shy knock on the door.

"Samwise? Mr. Frodo, sir?" Daisy's words were muffled.

"Go away," Frodo said firmly.

"I'm sorry, sir," said Daisy, tears evident in her voice.

Sam kissed Frodo, tenderly. "I think I should see her. May I please let her in?"

Frodo sighed, and nodded at last. "But she's leaving if she hurts you."

"I do love you," said Sam, kissing him, yet again. He pulled reluctantly out of Frodo’s arms and went to open the door.

Daisy was sitting outside it, looking quite forlorn.

"Come in, Daisy," said Sam. "Mr. Frodo didn't mean to be so rough. He were just looking after me, is all."

Daisy stood, glancing up at Sam, shyly, and followed him into the room. She looked over at Frodo and ducked her head. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't mean to intrude, only... I - I heard our Sam crying, and I were that worried, and..." She sniffled and swiped at her own tears. "And I didn't mean to be eavesdropping none, but I heard what you said to him, and... I just wish our Gaffer hadn't said those horrible things, and I won't let him get away with it, nohow, and... thank you for loving Sam so..."

Frodo went very, very red. "Oh. Oh, Daisy, I'm sorry, I..."

"Oh, no need to apologize, Mr. Frodo, sir. My sisters and I ain't exactly been leaving you in peace, lately. I - I'm sorry about that, sir. I were just so worried about our Sam. He's got such a good heart and..." She looked at Sam. "And he's had some bad sorts in his life." The colour drained from her face as she realized what she'd just said. "Not that you'd be one of 'em, Mr. Frodo, sir," she said, "but I don't want to see him hurt no more." She sniffled, again. "Which is why I'm as like to kill me Dad as to kiss him. I'm so sorry, Sam," she said, miserably.

Frodo pulled back a little, blushing as it dawned on him that he wasn't dressed, but slipped his arms around Sam, when he sat down again. "Love you always," he murmured, waiting for his lover to respond to his sister.

Sam turned into Frodo's embrace and kissed him, tenderly. "I love you, sweetheart," he murmured back. "Daisy, love, throw me that robe, will you?"

Daisy followed his gesture toward the chair and threw him the robe, noting its well-made plainness.

Sam drew it gently around Frodo, hiding him from Daisy's view as he adjusted things to suit his modesty. Sam looked up and chuckled, seeing the blush on the back of Daisy’s neck. "It's all right, love; you can turn around, now."

When she did, Sam and Frodo were leaning into each other and holding hands. "Well, if you two ain't a sight..." she sighed.

"What kind of a sight?" Frodo asked, a bit warily.

"Well, not to be too forward, but... well, you're beautiful. I mean, together... I mean, not that you aren't beautiful on your own, but... Oh, dear..." Daisy blushed all the way to her hair and ducked her head, again.

Frodo stifled a grin. He'd never seen Daisy so discomfited before...

Daisy pulled herself together and looked at Sam. "Our Dad had no right to say such things to you, Sam," she said, more firmly than she'd intended in order to cover her embarrassment. "Me and Mari and May've talked it over, and we say you're still a member of this family. I know Hal will think the same, and if we can ever find Ham again, in whatever cave he's gone off to, we ought to convince him, too. He never did hold much with Dad's harsh ways."

Frodo stiffened. "Your father threw you out of the family?"

Sam froze.

"Aye, sir," said Daisy, stepping in. "I'm sorry, but I thought you knew. But I ain't going to let that stand. I never did hold with no-one bullying my family, and I ain't going to start now, even if it is our Dad." She had drawn herself up to every inch of her diminutive height and set her jaw, defying anyone to cross her path.

Frodo smiled. "I knew I liked you," he said, standing up. "Sam, your father is wrong."

Daisy blushed at Frodo's praise, and just as quickly blanched at the same time as Sam at Frodo's last words. Before Sam could say anything, Daisy caught Frodo's sleeve. "I know he were, Mr. Frodo, but please don't do nothing to him, sir." She let go of his sleeve when she realized what she was doing. "He don't understand, yet, and it'd kill him to lose his position..."

Sam bowed his head at his sister's words, knowing the truth of them and wondering how Frodo would react, wishing yet again that the earth would just open up and swallow him.

"I'm not going to fire him," Frodo said, blushing a little. "I can't fire someone for disagreeing with me. But I am going to talk to him."

"Oh, God, no!" chorused two Gamgee voices.

Frodo froze. "Excuse me?"

Daisy blanched.

Sam rose and put his hands on Frodo's shoulders. "I love you for wanting to help," he said, softly, "but once our Dad gets a bee in his bonnet, he don't take opinions kindly, especially about family matters. Please, love, let Daisy and the others try, first. You ain't seen our Daisy when she really sets her mind to something," he chuckled.

"I'll give you a chance, then," Frodo replied. "But... I can't have this. I can't break up a family, and I can't have you all here if he hates me."

Sam shrank away from Frodo and sat heavily on the chair, shaking as he contemplated the choices in front of him.

Daisy stepped between them, eyes flashing. "With all due respect, Mr. Baggins, you ain't the one as is breaking up this family, leastways not yet. That'd be our Dad's doing, and nobody else's. This may be your land, sir, but our Dad's doing his job and giving good service. If you put him off, we'll all go, most like." She glanced at Sam. "Well, most of us, anyhow. Our Gaffer's a stubborn man, set in his ways and don't take kindly to change, but we'll set him straight as best we can, and I'll thank you to stay out of our family's affairs for just a bit longer, begging your pardon. Sir."

Sam groaned.

Frodo sighed. "I'm not saying this well at all, Daisy, and I apologize. All I mean is that, if you can't manage it, if he won't relent... I'll talk to him, and see what he wants."

"Oh, well... That's another matter, then..." Daisy blushed scarlet. "I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo..."

Sam rose and put his arms around Daisy. "You see what I mean about her?" he asked. He kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Daisy-lass," he said. "Let me know how it goes with our Gaffer," he added, quietly. "I don't want to lose my family."

"You haven't, Sam, dear," said Daisy, kissing him back. She looked over at Frodo. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you, Mr. Frodo. I ain't never seen our Sam as happy as he is with you, even though you have been poorly. He's been going on about you for years, now..." She clamped her mouth shut, realizing she'd probably gone too far. "I'm just glad he found you, is all," she finished, lamely.

Frodo smiled softly. "I'm glad he has, too. Your brother is the greatest gift I've ever received, Daisy. I only hope I can be worthy of him."

Daisy seized Frodo's hand and kissed his cheek. "You already are, Fr– Mr. Frodo," she said. "Now I've got to go talk with me sisters and Hal. Sam, you'd best stay out of our Dad's way, for a bit. Is there anything he can be doing up here for a few days?" Daisy asked, blushing up to her hair and down to her slim ankles as she registered the sight of the rumpled bed.

Frodo blushed just as deeply. "I'm sure I can think of something even you'd approve of," he offered, squeezing her hand lightly.

"Well, I could always use another hand in the kitchen," she said, directing a mischievous grin at Sam. "Our Sam's a very fine cook, he is."

Sam groaned, loudly. "I will beg you on my hands and knees, Frodo-love. Anything but having me sister for a boss in the kitchen..."

Frodo grinned. "I'll have to think about that..."

"Oh, God..." Sam sank back into the chair.

Daisy looked at Frodo with a new level of respect. "I'm beginning to like this situation better and better," she said. "There are some excellent prospects here, and no mistake!"

Frodo laughed aloud. "There are indeed."

"You're both going to be the death of me, aren't you?" said Sam, dolefully. "Why don’t I just take up something safer, like skydiving?"

Frodo laughed again, and kissed him softly.

"Oh, that'd be why," murmured Sam, kissing him back.

"Love you."

"I love you, too," said Sam.

Daisy cleared her throat. "I'd best be getting back to the kitchen, now. And I don't think Sam should join me there. We never know when Dad might appear."

Frodo nodded. "Sam, stay with me, for now? We'll figure the rest out later."

Sam blushed. "I can certainly think of worse places to be spending time."

Daisy grinned. "Think of it as a honeymoon, and you didn't even have to get married!" she said, with a sly wink. "You'll even get your breakfast in bed, an' all! But only this once, Samwise, and never again!" With that, she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

And Frodo collapsed in giggles at the look on Sam's face.

"I don't believe she just said that," said Sam, colouring as brightly as his sister had, earlier. "I'm so sorry, love. I know she's only teasing... Oh, God, why did I have to have so many bloody sisters?"

"You have brothers, too," Frodo offered.

"Aye, that I do. One, at least. I really have no idea where to find the other one. For all I know, he could be off spelunking in Malaysia or climbing a tree in Borneo, just as easily as he could be working an oilrig in the North Sea. I just know that I'll kill him when he comes back for leaving me with so many sisters..."

Frodo laughed. "Sam, come and take a shower with me? You're a mess."

Sam looked down at himself and grimaced. "How on earth could you stand me?" he asked. "I stink, right proper."

"I love you. And my nose is stuffed up."

Sam snorted. "Point taken–" Frodo's mouth stopped his with a kiss. "Points taken," he murmured. He wrapped his arm around Frodo and led him toward the bathroom. "And I'm looking forward to running my hands all over you, again," he said, huskily.

Frodo smiled, and kissed him again. "So am I."

Sam shut and locked the bathroom door behind them, pulling Frodo immediately into a deep, thoroughly passionate kiss. "Too many clothes," he gasped, feeling himself grow hard as Frodo wrapped himself around him. Then he gaped in astonishment at the bathroom. Sam found himself taking in the usual amenities of sink, toilet and shower for the first time. While the fixtures were all luxurious, the shower was especially noteworthy. It had a large and convenient bench built in and jets positioned at every possible strategic angle, along with a waterfall showerhead. With a curious trepidation, he looked beyond it and into the adjoining room, which housed a huge sunken tub. He clung to the familiarity of Frodo. "Mr. Bilbo certainly did like his baths, didn't he?" he said, faintly.

"Mr. Bilbo liked to fuck," Frodo replied. "That's what this whole master suite is designed for..."

Sam blushed. "Well, then," he swallowed. "Perhaps we'd better put it to the use for which it was intended." He slid his hands under Frodo's robe, pulling him very close with a low growl. "We still have the problem," he nibbled Frodo's ear, "of too many clothes." He nipped his way down to Frodo's neck and brought Frodo's hands to his shirt. "Strip me," he whispered. "Please, love?"

Frodo bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore his own exhaustion. Sam wanted this... and he'd give it to him. He smiled, and started on the buttons of Sam's shirt.

Sam looked down at Frodo's shaking hands and melted. "Let me help you with that, sweetheart.” He covered Frodo's hands gently with one of his own and kissed him, tenderly, undoing his own buttons and then letting Frodo push the shirt off his back. "Just hold me," he whispered, undoing his trousers and letting Frodo's hands slide under the waistband to the naked flesh beneath.

"I'm sorry..."

"No, love. I'm sorry for getting carried away. Let's just hold each other under that shower so we don't get washed down the drain. I just hope you don't mind if I cop a feel or twelve..."

Frodo laughed. "Just make sure I don't drown, and you can do whatever you like."

"I think I can see to that..." Sam turned on the tap in the shower and marvelled at the power of it. "At least, I hope I can..."

Frodo gave a knowing snort. “Bilbo always did like to make a statement.”

Sam stepped gingerly into the shower, finding the temperature perfect, to his surprise. "Care to join me?" He held out his hand.

Frodo smiled, and stepped in after him. "Love you."

Sam pulled him gently close. "I love you, Frodo." He kissed him, deeply and reached for the shower gel, squeezing some into his hand and warming it before he began to rub it onto Frodo's skin. He smoothed his hands and the gel over and into Frodo's body, supporting him as he washed him. "So perfect," he whispered, nibbling his neck. "Can you do my back, love, if I hold you like this?"

Frodo opened his eyes with an effort. "Mmmhmm..."

"Poor old sleepyhead," said Sam. "Are you sure?"

"Mmhmm," Frodo murmured again.

Sam squeezed some gel into Frodo's hand and brought his lover's arms around to his back. "I love you," he whispered, rubbing more gel over Frodo, hands moving lower, washing Frodo in his most intimate places. "Love you so much."

"Love you, too," Frodo murmured, washing Sam in return.

Sam groaned, pressing into Frodo's touch. "Oh, god! Frodo, I want you so much." He kissed him, lingering on his lips. "Only not when you're so tired, love." He bit his lip as Frodo's hands hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Just... I hope you don't mind if I respond..."

Frodo smiled, kissing Sam's neck as he washed his back. "Love to hear you."

Sam moaned as Frodo kissed his neck. Sliding an arm under his arse, he lifted him, carrying him to the bench. “No reason you should have to stand. Especially when this means I can fondle you from the front."

Frodo laughed softly, leaning back against the wall. "We'll have to use this a lot..."

"That we will," said Sam, washing Frodo's chest with great care and deliberation. "And that stonking great tub Mr. Bilbo put in the next room." He kissed Frodo, cupping the water that came at them to rinse the dusky nipples so that he could kiss them.

Frodo moaned. "Mmm..."

Sam kissed his way down to Frodo's belly and began to wash his legs with as much attention to detail as he'd lavished on the rest of him, kneeling in front of him as he washed and rinsed, kissing and rubbing his face on the perfect thighs, relishing the taste of warm, clean Frodo. He laid his head in Frodo's lap, hugging his thighs. "God, I love you!" he murmured. "I love you more than I ever knew... Thank you for... for earlier." He kissed the nearest patch of skin, high on Frodo's inner thigh.

"For earlier?" Frodo managed breathlessly, his cock rising.

"For being with me when I needed you." He turned and kissed Frodo's cock, rubbing his cheek gently against it. "Do you want to do this here, love, or can I take you to bed where I can spoil you properly?"

"Do it here?" Frodo whispered, arching into his touch.

Sam grinned and reached around Frodo's waist, pulling him close and kissing his balls, gently sucking them into his mouth, one by one, swirling his tongue around them before kissing and lipping his way up Frodo's hardening cock. He licked the crown, tasting, laving, tongue flickering into the slit. He kissed the tip, lingering there before plunging down without warning, burying his nose in shower-wet curls at the base.

Frodo cried out, hips arching off the tiled seat. "Oh, Sam!"

Sam moved with him, steadying him, pulling back when necessary to breathe, tracing the elegant arch of Frodo's cock with his tongue and teasing the sensitive ridge, taking him in enough to hum around the crown as he worked the base with his hand.

Frodo murmured obscenities, made small cries, and finally arched even further, coming hard and long.

Sam rode out Frodo's climax, his own arousal aching with need. He swallowed his lover’s seed, savouring every bit of musky scent and bitter-salt taste. When his knees could no longer hold out against the tile floor, he released Frodo carefully and sat on the bench beside him, wrapping arms and legs around him, soothing him through the aftershocks. "There, now, me darling. I can't ever get enough of you. So beautiful. So strong. I love you, Frodo." He kissed him, trying hard to calm his own erection as it bumped deliciously against Frodo's side. "Love hearing you lose yourself like that."

Frodo didn't answer, found he couldn't, but wrapped his hand around Sam's cock. "Take me..."

Sam groaned at Frodo's touch. "Frodo-love, we need something to ease the way..."

"Lube's next to the shampoo," Frodo managed, stroking him again. "Please, Sam... I need to feel you in me."

Sam moaned and arched into Frodo's hand, reaching for the lube, which allowed him to slide up against Frodo in an even more fetching way. "God! Frodo..." He finally managed to take the bottle in his shaking fingers, noting with vast amusement that this brand was a petroleum jelly and thus suited to watery activities, and squeezed some out onto his hand. He warmed it carefully, then shifted Frodo so that he was straddling him, his legs spread on either side of Sam's waist and supported on the bench. "I've got you, love," said Sam, huskily. He slicked his fingers and slid in, carefully, kissing Frodo as he prepared him.

Frodo groaned, head falling forward against Sam's shoulder. "Oh fuck, yes..."

Sam scissored his fingers and stroked Frodo's sweet spot. "Ready?"

Frodo bucked, biting Sam's shoulder against a cry. "Yes, fuck, yes, please!"

"Oh, love!" said Sam, his cock aching as he slicked it. "God! I love it that you want me so much..." He lifted Frodo into position, supporting him as he eased his way around Sam's erection. "Ohh..." he groaned, as Frodo's tight heat sank down around him.

"So perfect..." Frodo's voice was thick, choked, and he pressed down harder, wriggling, trying to get all of Sam in him faster than Sam himself was allowing.

Sam groaned at Frodo's eagerness, holding him close and relishing the feel of Frodo's muscles writhing against him. Still supporting him, he let Frodo have his way and cried out as Frodo impaled himself on him. "Oh! Ohhh Goddd! Frodo! Oh, god!sogood..." He reached desperately for a kiss, holding Frodo against him as he felt himself buried to the hilt, no latex barrier between them.

Frodo cried aloud. "Yes! God, yes, Sam, filling me so perfect, so full..."

"So tight. So perfect. God! I love how you feel. Oh, Frodo!" Supporting Frodo, Sam began to thrust in the small, sharp movements permitted by his position. "Oh, god! this is so good!" He kissed Frodo as deeply as he could, breaking away when it became too difficult. "Never had it so good. Oh, Frodo! Oh, god..."

Frodo clamped his muscles down around him, making it even tighter.

"Oh, GOD!" Sam bucked up involuntarily, burying himself even further than he'd thought possible. "Frodo... I can't last much longer..."

"Don't," Frodo murmured, now rhythmically clenching and releasing his muscles around Sam. "Come for me, Sam. Want to feel you..."

"Oh, fuck! I don't want this to end..." He reached instinctively for Frodo's cock, and found it hardened, anew. " Frodo... Oh, god... so close..." He thrust harder, faster, overcome by Frodo's movement against him, his encouragement, his excitement. He felt the heat pool in his belly and then everything turned to white as he thrust up, up into Frodo and came, spilling himself deep into his lover, his cry echoing around the luxurious room.

Frodo followed, coming again, though he hadn't expected to, and all but passed out against Sam's chest.

Sam came back to himself after what seemed like a long time, to find Frodo lying against him, limp and sated, barely breathing. "Oh, love, it was too much for you, wasn't it? I should've stopped when you came that first time. But oh, I do love you so, and I love being inside you, still, and feeling you, with nothing to get in the way." He held Frodo close and kissed him, gently.

"Love you, too," Frodo managed. He laughed. "You fucked me senseless."

"And you turned me into jelly," sighed Sam, kissing Frodo's face and nibbling his ear. "And as soon as I can move, I'm rinsing you off and taking you to bed. I want you to get your rest," he growled, nipping Frodo's neck. "Might as well take advantage of Daisy's offer while we can, seeing as how it ain't never going to happen again," he said ruefully.

Frodo chuckled, still leaning heavily against Sam. "I don't think I can move..."

"I'll carry you," said Sam. "I don't think I could let you go, even if I wanted to. They'll just have to find us here, ten million years from now, all glued together."

Frodo shifted slightly, and giggled. "Completely, especially if you don't rinse us off..."

Sam groaned as Frodo shifted, hugging him closer and cupping his delicious arse. "That's one very good argument against rinsing," he said, happily, kissing Frodo. "Although the thought of wrapping myself around you in that nice, warm bed of yours is at least as good..."

"Mmm, please?"

Sam kissed Frodo, pulling out gently with a gasp. "Everything about you feels so good... Don't ever want to let you go," he murmured, "not ever." He stood, lifting Frodo with him and holding him close, supporting him and cupping water over his body as he rinsed him, turning them so that he was also rinsed clean, and then turned off the water.

He pulled Frodo with him out of the shower and reached for the huge, thick towel that seemed to push itself into his hand. Holding Frodo close, he wrapped it around both of them and dried his lover carefully, wondering anew at the body that met his hands. As he worked, he managed to dry himself, as well, looking into Frodo's sleepy eyes. "Let's get you to bed, love.”

Sam lifted Frodo into his arms and carried him back into the bedroom, laying him on the bed and climbing in beside him. "Let me hold you, Frodo-love?" he whispered, stroking damp hair off the pale brow. "I don't mean to do nothing, I just want to feel you in my arms for as long as I can."

Frodo smiled, warm and safe and close in his lover's arms. "Oh Sam... I want that, too. For as long as I can stay awake, I want you to hold me close."

Sam drew his arms around Frodo, folding him in close, wrapping himself to touch as much of Frodo as he could, and kissed him, long and deeply, with great tenderness. "Frodo," he murmured into his ear, rocking him as he began to drift off. "My dear love..."

"Love you always, Sam. Always..."

Sam tucked his face into Frodo's neck. "Always... Always you, my Frodo-love. It was always you. Always...." Sam trailed off, the emotional trials of the day overtaking him and forcing him into an uneasy sleep as he clung to Frodo.