Old Winyards

Chapter: Twenty-two
Pairing: Sam/Frodo
Authors: Catherine and Thuri
Rating: E
Warnings: Angst; Graphic description of medical procedure; Explicit m/m sex
Summary: Two scary medical tests, and an interesting drug reaction.


Sam awoke when he heard the quiet footsteps approaching the bed.

"Good morning, Sam," said Paladin. "I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by. We need Frodo for the spinal tap, now. Want to wake him up?”

"All right," said Sam, feeling his mouth go dry. He stroked Frodo's cheek. "Frodo-love?” He bent to kiss Frodo's forehead. "Wake up, me dear. Your uncle Paladin's here"

"Don' wanna go to school..."

Paladin laughed, quietly.

"Come on, Frodo-love," said Sam, blushing a bit. "At least it's not raining outside."

"You ride the pony."

"He seems to have a bit of an obsession about ponies when he wakes up," said Sam, turning a brighter red.

"I'll have to make a note of that," said Paladin, and whipped out his notebook.

"Frodo," tried Sam, "you really do have to wake up, love. The doctors need you, now."

Frodo tugged a pillow over his head, and turned over.

Sam turned with Frodo, hugging him close and stroking his arm. "Come on, love. The sooner you wake up, the sooner it'll all be over with."

"If I don't wake up, won't happen," Frodo mumbled back.

Sam squeezed Frodo and pressed a kiss to his back, unable to reply.

"Oh, yes it will, Frodo!" said Paladin. "Of course, we'll be throwing cold water on you first to wake you up, but you probably need a bath, anyway, so it might be a good idea."

Frodo groaned, but pushed himself up a little. "Fine, I'm awake."

Sam pulled the pillow gently off Frodo's head. "Then can I see you, love? I do rather prefer your face to a hospital pillow. I never did much care for modern art."

Frodo smiled grudgingly. "Ha, ha. All right. Let's get this over with."

"I don't suppose you'll let me go with him?" asked Sam. "Unless you don't want me there, of course," he added to Frodo.

Frodo took Sam's hand and squeezed tightly.

"It's against hospital policy, Sam, but, if Frodo wants you there...” Paladin raised his eyebrow at Frodo.

"Please?"

"Well, it's my hospital, so I'll simply threaten everyone's jobs, if need be. Frodo, your carriage awaits.” Paladin gestured to the wheelchair he had brought with him. "You have just enough time to use the bathroom, gentlemen, and Sam, for heaven's sake put on some clothes!"

Frodo and Sam blushed and did as Paladin instructed, and soon they were on their way to the first floor and the operating rooms, Paladin clearing the halls just by his presence. It turned out that he didn't need to threaten anyone's livelihood, and they were soon in the prep room.

"Sam, we'll need you to put on a surgical gown if you're going to stay in here with Frodo. Are you sure you still want to do this?"

"Yes, sir," said Sam.

Paladin smiled. "All right, then. Nurse Proudfoot, will you take care of Mr. Gamgee, please?"

"Certainly, Doctor.” The nurse ushered Sam away.

"You're lucky in him, Frodo," said Paladin.

"I know," said Frodo, softly.

Paladin squeezed Frodo's shoulder. "Now, we’ll need to numb you up. I've read your charts, and you don't seem to be allergic to lidocaine, right?"

Frodo shook his head. "Not allergic to anything..."

"Excellent! Well, then, let's get you into the O.R. and settled on the table. Sam and I will be along shortly.” Paladin nodded to the intern to prepare Frodo, and then went to join Sam in being gowned.

"Just let Nurse Proudfoot do all the work, Sam,” said Paladin as he scrubbed and rinsed and another nurse gloved him. “You don't want to touch anything and contaminate it."

Sam blushed. "I ain't been dressed by a woman since I were three years old," he muttered.

"We could arrange for a male nurse," offered Nurse Proudfoot.

"Nonsense! Sam can deal with it, can't you, Sam?"

"Yes, sir," said Sam, sheepishly.

Nurse Proudfoot's eyes crinkled above her mask.

"Sam, this might not be pleasant for you to watch. I'll get you a stool so you can sit with Frodo, of course, but some people get a bit queasy when they see this."

"I'll be all right," said Sam. "I'm more worried about Frodo. How'll it be for him?"

"Theoretically, the worst part of the procedure itself should be the sting when we numb him," said Paladin.

"All right, and what ain't you telling me?”

"Well, it's not quite so easy for some people. What's more worrisome, though, is that he might get a rather nasty headache for a few hours afterwards. Dr. Peredhel is quite good at this, though. And no, it's not the same Dr. Peredhel you've seen before. This is his father."

Sam took a breath. "Oh, I've heard of him. He's famous, he is. How'd you get him to come all the way out here?”

Paladin smiled. "He supervised my residency, and somehow we got to be good friends. He happened to be visiting, so he's doing this today as a favor to me."

"Well, then, Frodo's in good hands, and no mistake."

"Yes, he certainly is.” Paladin ushered Sam to the stool provided next to the operating table and smiled at the tall man waiting for him. "Frodo, this is Dr. Elrond Peredhel. I'm going to be assisting him, today."

Frodo managed a smile. "I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you..."

"I quite understand," smiled Elrond. "Elladan sends his regards, by the way. Now, I need you to lie on your left side, and I want you to bring your knees to your chest, in a fetal position."

Frodo swallowed hard, and nodded, taking the position.

Sam took Frodo's hand and stroked it. "I'm right here, Frodo."

Frodo squeezed Sam’s hand, hard. "What... what are you going to do?"

"Well, first we're going to clean your lower back, and then I'm going to give you an injection so you can't feel it when we put in the alien implants," said Paladin.

"Uncle Pal? Not now."

"Sorry, Frodo," said Paladin, ruefully. "We’re going to numb you up just as soon as Nurse Proudfoot's finished prepping your back."

The nurse nodded at Paladin and handed him the syringe.

"This might sting a bit, Frodo," said Paladin, probing Frodo's back before finding the spot. "Just a pinch, now..."

Frodo hissed.

Sam squeezed Frodo's hand.

Paladin moved the needle to cover as wide an area around the site as he needed. "All right, now we'll just wait a couple of minutes for that to kick in. How are you doing, Frodo?"

"I'm all right..."

"Good, good...” Paladin checked the clock. "I'm going to hand you over to Dr. Peredhel, now. He'll talk you through the rest of it."

"Okay."

"Can you feel that, Frodo?" asked Elrond, running his finger over Frodo's lumbar vertebrae.

"No."

"Good.” He turned to Nurse Proudfoot and nodded. She handed him a needle.

Sam schooled his face to remain steady and he looked into Frodo's eyes.

"All right, now, I just need you to hold very still and keep yourself in that fetal position. You might feel a bit of pressure, now...”

Sam tried not to see as Elrond inserted the needle carefully into Frodo’s spine.

"Tell me if you feel any sort of sharp pain, Frodo," said the doctor.

Frodo bit his bottom lip deeply, but didn't make any other response.

"I just need to try it over here, I think," said Elrond quietly to Paladin. He moved the needle a little, and then withdrew it, moving it about 2 millimeters to the left.

"Ow!"

Elrond withdrew the needle and reinserted it a tiny bit further down. "Is the pain gone?" he asked.

"Yes," Frodo replied faintly. "It's... I feel sick, though."

"Are you going to throw up, Frodo?" asked Elrond.

"No... no, just nauseated."

"All right. Then I need you to hold very, very still. I'm in just the right spot.” He nodded to Nurse Proudfoot, who handed Paladin something that looked to Sam like a large thermometer, which he laid alongside the needle. "We’re just measuring the fluid pressure, Frodo, and it looks... Just fine," said Elrond, "which means that we can proceed with the collection, and this'll be over in a jiffy.” He accepted three small tubes in quick succession from Paladin as the clear fluid dripped into them. "Let's have some gauze," he said to Nurse Proudfoot.

She handed him the gauze and took the tubes from Paladin, who helped apply pressure as Elrond withdrew the needle.

“Let’s just check for seepage,” said Elrond.

Sam watched him and Paladin eying the area through their magnifying lenses.

"Excellent!" said Elrond. “We can bandage that up, now.” He nodded to the orderlies. "Now Frodo, we're going to transfer you to a gurney, and I want you to stay very still while we do.”

Sam eyed the orderlies as they transferred Frodo.

"Now, we're going to wheel you back to your room, and you’re going to rest up for a few hours," said Elrond. “We’ve given you a self-sealing incision, so you shouldn’t get a spinal headache. You can turn over and move a bit, but stay in bed, and it wouldn’t hurt to drink some water, or better yet, coffee.”

"Sounds like fun," Frodo replied.

Elrond laughed. "Funny how people respond to that. I always thought it was a good excuse to lie around on a workday."

They wheeled Frodo back to his room. Sam, all but forgotten, trailed behind, nauseated by what little he had seen of the procedure. He didn't mind blood too much, but the sight of Frodo's spinal fluid made his own back ache in sympathy, and the memory of Frodo's anguished face couldn’t fade too soon, to his way of thinking. Still, the worst is over, I hope.

Paladin squeezed Frodo's fingers. "You did well, son."

"Thank you, Uncle Pal," Frodo replied. "You'll forgive me if I say let's not do it again soon?"

Paladin smiled. "I'd be checking you into the psych ward if you said anything else," he said. "I'm going to leave you with Sam, now. Take it very easy, Frodo.” He turned to Sam. “Look after him. Make him drink a big glass of water, O.K.?"

"All right, Dr. Took," said Sam.

"Good man, Sam," said Paladin, clapping him on the shoulder before leaving.

Sam returned to sit by Frodo's bed and took his hand. "That looked... interesting," he said.

Frodo squeezed Sam's hand, hard. "Oh, Sam, it felt horrible!"

"How, love?"

"That stuff they used to numb me felt like they were setting me on fire, and then...” Frodo swallowed, hard.

"Go on," encouraged Sam, stroking Frodo's forehead

"Oh, god, Sam, it hurt so much when they put the needle in, but it wasn't just pain. It just felt so disgusting! And then when they had to move it? When they were trying to find the fluid? I could feel it grinding.“ Frodo squeezed Sam's hand so hard, his knuckles went white. "And then they had to put it back in, and I saw stars, it hurt so much. It shot through me like nothing I've ever felt.” Frodo's face twisted in a grimace. "I'm sorry, Sam, but I nearly barfed all over you."

"I know," said Sam, wincing a little at Frodo's grip.

"And they were telling me to hold so still, and I nearly lost it, and it hurt so damn much, and the third time they stuck it in, I could hear it grinding against me, and if I hadn't read somewhere that I could end up bleeding into the spinal cord or my brain if I moved, I wouldn't have been able to hold still, and...” He forced himself to relax. "I swear to God, Sam, if they'd let me see the stuff they took from me, I would have been sick all over the place.” He paused. "I said too much, didn't I?"

"Not really," said Sam, gamely, wondering if he were as pale as Frodo had turned during his description.

"You look like you're going to hurl."

"I won't," promised Sam. "But I don't think I want to eat anything, just yet. You handled the whole thing better than I ever would have."

"I just didn't want to end up a paraplegic, on top of everything else.”

"Point," said Sam. "Still, I don't know if I'd have had the discipline to hold still like that, specially with what you were feeling...” Sam shuddered. "Ugh!"

"I looked into your eyes, and tried to think of nothing else."

"And I looked into yours when I didn't want to see what they were doing,” chuckled Sam. “I managed to forget all about it. Almost..."

Frodo shuddered a little. "Almost. God. I think I'd rather have some odd undiagnosed disease than do that again."

"I don't blame you," said Sam, pressing Frodo's hand between both his own. "And doctors wonder why people don't like to see 'em more often..."

"And Uncle Pal never stops with the bad jokes..."

"His heart's in the right place, an' all, and he loves you, which counts for something with me.” Sam kissed Frodo's forehead. "Just a few more hours, love, and we'll be home, if all goes well. And if you drink this water your uncle says you're to have," he added, retrieving the water glass and angling the straw so that Frodo didn't have to move his head.

Frodo made a face, but did as he was told. "Too many tests..."

"I know. Let's hope you don't have to go through any more of them, any time soon. Do you want to try and sleep a bit, love?"

Frodo sighed. "I think so.” He yawned, and shuddered. "I'll never eat again..."

"Not for a while, anyway," agreed Sam, with an answering shudder. "But would you mind if I kissed you, before you go to sleep? I won't do anything nasty, I promise..."

"I live for your kisses, Sam."

"Oh, well, then..." breathed Sam. He leaned over to kiss Frodo, very gently.

"Mmmm..."

Sam touched his tongue to Frodo's lips before pulling away. "I'll be so glad when we’re home, again, Frodo. Sleep, love. Well, till I make you drink some more, anyway."

Frodo smiled softly. "I love you."

"Oh, I love you, too.” Sam kissed Frodo again, a touch of lips and soul, and sat back, holding his hand as he fell asleep.

---

“Frodo-love? Your Uncle Paladin’s here.”

Frodo pushed his way through the molasses of sleep. “Not again,” he murmured.

“ ’Fraid so,” said Paladin.

Frodo groaned.

“Your liver values are pretty high, Frodo. We need to do a biopsy, and we might as well do it now. It’s quick, and there’s a room free, so we’ll just do this right away and it’ll be over before you know it.”

“All right,” said Frodo. He felt for Sam’s hand and squeezed it.

“Meaning no disrespect, but haven’t you poked and prodded him enough?” said Sam, rounding on Paladin.

“I’m sure he thinks I have,” allowed Paladin.

“I wouldn’t disagree,” replied Frodo.

“But with values like this,” continued Paladin, “we need to make sure it’s nothing nasty, and isn’t it better to get it all over with at once, so we can have an answer?”

Sam bit his tongue. “Can I go with him?”

“Sam,” said Frodo, squeezing his hand.

“Not this time, Sam. If you really want to, you can watch from the gallery.”

“Sam, dear, please stay here.” Frodo kissed his hand. “You haven’t even had breakfast, yet, and I’d feel so much better if you didn’t have to see this.”

Sam bent over Frodo’s hand for a moment, fighting back the sting, both of Frodo’s gentle admonition and his own need to do exactly as his love had said.

“I’ll be all right, Sam,” Frodo murmured, pulling him down for a soft kiss. “Nauseated, probably, but all right. Right, Uncle Pal?”

“All except the nauseated part,” grinned Paladin. “This’ll probably take a couple of hours, Sam. Why don’t you go to Optometry? I think your new glasses are ready.”

Sam mumbled his assent and watched as Frodo was once again transferred to a gurney. He released Frodo’s hand as they wheeled him through the door, and watched them down the corridor until they turned for the lift. He turned back into the room, then spun around and made his way to Optometry, as Paladin had suggested.

Thirty minutes later, he was seeking out the coffee shop on the ground floor. He stumbled a bit, his new glasses still an oddity in front of his eyes and distorting his perception as he moved. He muttered a quiet curse as he remembered the young woman who’d handed them to him. “Now remember, they’ll take some getting used to,” she’d said, batting her lashes at him. “Used to see better without them,” he mumbled, pulling them off and stuffing them in the case.

He lost his battle against the spectacles when he had to read the menu at the coffee shop. Strangely small print, placed awkwardly and too close for comfort made him wince as a headache came rushing for him, and he put them on again. It helped his eyes, but the sight of the items on the menu did nothing for his stomach. He’d lived in America long enough not to trust the tea. He wheedled the woman behind the counter into selling him some buttered toast (which was not on the menu) and a cup of coffee with a side of milk, just in case.

He sat at the counter, trying hard to tune out the conversations and failing.

“...and he’d just had a triple bypass...”

“Shirley says Mary’ll be fine...”

“I came in with a fungus growing all over my left foot...”

“...he’d been bleeding since two o’clock in the morning! Can you believe that? What incompetence...”

“When we get home, we have to clean off the patio furniture...”

“Mommy, why can’t I see Uncle Jorge?”

“...the cat just jumped right through the window when the garbage men came...”

“Daddy, can I have a frog?”

After a while, the litany of troubles wove itself into a patchwork of life and commiseration, and Sam found comfort both in the knowledge that he wasn’t alone, and that he didn’t need to add as much milk to his coffee as he’d feared. He laughed silently to himself. I must be very easy to please, he thought.

An hour and two small cookies later, he decided it was time to make his way back to Frodo’s room. He felt a pang of reluctance at leaving this microcosm of life. He’d started up a conversation with the girl who wanted a frog when she’d tugged on his shirt to apologize for burping. This little bit of contact with the outside world reminded him just how isolated he’d become since that fateful tour round the grounds just those few weeks ago. He shrugged it off and caught the lift for the fourth floor.

The feeling dogged him as he trudged back to the room, his glasses still in place, he realized. And if he was feeling so isolated and alone, what must Frodo be feeling, when he’d been so tired he could barely leave the Estate since the night of the party? “One thing’s for certain: can’t be doing him no good to be so lonely, nohow,” he muttered. “He needs some good fresh air and some cheerful people ‘round him. Never mind cheerful, just people. People besides Gamgees and Tooks and Brandybucks.”

Frodo was not in the room when Sam arrived back, and he opened the curtain for a minute to look out, blinking at the bright Santa Rosa sun. He shook his head. “December, and not a cloud in the sky. It ain’t right, but it’s better than a flood. And it’s beautiful,” he sighed.

“What’s beautiful, Sam?”

Sam whirled around to see Frodo being wheeled into the room and looking drawn but surprisingly cheerful. “Frodo! Oh, I’ll just close the blinds–”

“No need,” said Frodo. “They gave me some rreallly great stufff!”

Sam frowned and came closer, peering at him. “You’re snockered!”

Frodo beamed. “Yyyep! And feeling nooo pain at allll... Of course, I can’t feel my elbows...”

Sam stifled a laugh. “You’re not snockered, you’re bloody mortalled!” He watched as the orderlies transferred Frodo to the bed.

Frodo giggled and flailed out his hand. “You’re cute in glasses, Sam!”

One of the orderlies caught Frodo’s hand before it hit him in the groin and gave Sam a baleful look as they left him to his charge.

“C’mere, Sammy,” said Frodo, hand flailing again.

Sam’s eyebrows wormed their way into his hairline and he went slowly to the bed, grasping Frodo’s errant hand before he sat down. “Just what did they give you?”

“Demlirol. Demitall. Demycrat?” Frodo giggled uncontrollably.

Sam frowned. “Well, whatever it was, I ain’t sure you should have no more of it.”

“Spoil-shorts,” said Frodo, frowning and giggling as he looked cross-eyed at his mouth.

Sam couldn’t help a chuckle. He kissed Frodo’s hand. “You really don’t feel any pain at all, love?”

“Not a thing!” Frodo gave Sam an unadulterated smile, the brightest one Sam had seen from him since before the party.

Sam’s heart ached for the loss he’d become so used to and he smiled back at his lover. “Well, that’s one bit of good that’s come out of all this,” he said, squeezing Frodo’s hand.

“I’ll say!” Frodo beamed at Sam. “I haven’t felt this great for months. Even if I can’t stand up...” He frowned and then beamed again. “Can I just live on Dermilol?”

“I don’t think so,” said Sam.

“That’s too bad,” sighed Frodo. “Make love to me, Sam. Right now. It’ll feel grrrreat!”

Sam blushed and kissed him. “I’m afraid not, love.” He peeked under the blankets, pulling aside Frodo’s hospital gown, gently. “You’ve a bandage, sweetheart, and I wouldn’t want to–”

Frodo startled Sam by pulling him down for a very firm kiss. “Sam,” he said, earnestly. “I want you while I’m not in pain. You don’t have to lie on top of me. Please, Sam, mouth, hands, anything...”

Sam swallowed and rose. “I won’t be a moment...”

“Better not be,” grumbled Frodo, a smile crawling back over his face. The smile disappeared as Sam left the room. “Saaam!”

Sam tried to ignore Frodo’s protests as he spoke to the nurse outside the door. When he returned, Frodo was shifting on the bed, looking reproachfully at him. “Just getting us a bit of privacy, love,” said Sam, shutting the door behind him.

Frodo’s expression changed like mercury. “Well, then, what’re you waiting for? Get over here!” Frodo beamed at him and held out his arms, a bit unevenly.

Sam smiled, biting his lip. “All right, love, but we do this quiet-like. If you start moving too much, I’m stopping right away, and no mistake.”

Frodo grabbed Sam’s hands and pulled him down for a much harder kiss, surprising his lover.

“Slowly, Frodo! Won’t do no good if you pull your stitches, even if you don’t have many. And yes, I asked the nurse!”

Frodo grinned. “My Sammy-wise. Always looking after mee...” He wriggled under the covers, making it impossible for Sam to ignore the growing tent.

Sam pulled back the covers and snaked his hands under the gown to pull it off, careful of Frodo’s various bandages and plasters. “You look like a pin-cushion, love,” he chuckled, punctuating his words with kisses.

Frodo groaned and writhed. “Sammmm...”

Sam straddled Frodo and hovered over him, not putting so much as an ounce of weight on him. “Frodo-love,” he growled low over his face, “I want you to be still. You can talk and you can touch me, but for everything else, I want to do all the work. Understand?”

Frodo’s eyes went wide, then softened and brightened. “Yes, Sam.”

Sam bent down to kiss him, tender and thorough in his exploration. “If I hurt you, I won’t never forgive myself,” he murmured.

Frodo reached up and caressed Sam’s face. “You won’t, Sam,” he said, with quiet conviction. “I promise, even though I’m smashed.” He kissed his partner and gazed into his eyes. “Now take your clothes off and get to work!”

Sam laughed, extricating himself with care from Frodo’s embrace to strip, leaving the clothes on the bedside chair as his lover writhed in anticipation. Half hard himself now, he settled low between Frodo’s legs, kissing up the thighs.

“Sam!” gasped Frodo, arching up and then wincing. “Ow!”

Sam pulled away immediately, taking stock of Frodo’s rueful grin. “Now let that be a lesson to you! If you do that again, this is over before it even starts.”

Frodo nodded. “Sam... let me... turn around? So I can give to you, too?”

“Now, that’s too much work, love–”

“Not if I’m careful. And if I’m thinking of you, I won’t move so much. Please, Sam. I want to.”

Sam paused, and then turned, very careful to keep to Frodo’s side. “This’ll be a bit of an awkward angle for you, love—Oh!”

“It’s not so bad, Sammy,” said Frodo with an audible grin as he gripped Sam in a warm hand.

“Well, all right, then,” managed Sam, paying similar attention to Frodo before taking him in his mouth.

Frodo gasped and jerked a bit before turning his attention (and his mouth) to Sam. He didn’t go deep, but licked the tip, kissing it and drawing it in just as far as the ridge.

Sam moaned around Frodo’s cock as he felt his own taken so carefully and took Frodo deeper, stroking his thighs to soothe and calm.

They made love slowly, tenderly, Frodo trying to keep his promise and Sam taking care to keep Frodo’s movements small and safe.

“Don’t thrust,” said Sam, gently, before hollowing his cheeks around his lover’s shaft.

Frodo stilled, using his hand to pleasure Sam as he calmed himself and then returning to kiss the tip, dipping his tongue into the slit as he brought his arm over Sam’s waist. “Sam,” he managed, as emotion started to crowd in. “Love you, so much...”

“I know, love,” murmured Sam, caressing Frodo’s hips, keeping them in place. “Careful, now...” He took Frodo in once more, bobbing and tonguing and humming until he felt his lover quiver.

“Sam! Soon...”

Sam took Frodo deep without warning.

Frodo stifled his cry against Sam’s groin and came.

Sam swallowed everything Frodo gave him, concentrating to keep himself from coming as Frodo’s face pressed against him.

“Ssam...” Frodo pressed his face against his lover. “Sam, love...”

Sam kissed Frodo’s thighs, gasping as his lover’s breath hissed across his cock. “Frodo! I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“I want you to.” Frodo turned to kiss the slick head, lapping the fluid there as he stroked the shaft.

“Oh! Frodo, I’m...”

Frodo took the tip into his mouth, sealing himself around it and laving it with his tongue.

That was all it took, the tension of the past days hastening Sam’s release. He cried out against Frodo’s thigh as he came hard into his lover’s mouth.

Frodo swallowed and licked and kissed and soothed. “Sam...” He tugged at his partner’s arm. “C’mere.”

Sam took a moment to come back to himself before he could turn and crawl up to lie beside Frodo. “I’d meant to hold out,” he mumbled, stroking his lover’s face. “Are you all right, love?”

Frodo moved gingerly to take Sam in his arms. “Ssh. You needed that, and so did I.” He kissed Sam, stroking fingers through his hair and down his back. “I love you, my beautiful, wonderful Sam. My dearest, darlingest, perfectest-est Sam...”

Sam stopped Frodo’s mouth with a kiss. “You’re going to be so embarrassed when this wears off,” he chuckled, caressing Frodo’s face.

“No, I won’t,” said Frodo, pulling Sam close. “You’re the bestest Samwise in the whole world, and I don’t care who knows it.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I certainly do love you, sweetheart.” He kissed Frodo tenderly. “Only I think we should be putting some clothes on before your meal arrives. The nurses ain’t seen me naked yet, and I wouldn’t want to scare ’em.”

“I wouldn’t want to share you with the nurses.” Frodo’s hand dropped down further to squeeze rounded muscle.

Sam slid his leg between Frodo’s and kissed him again. “We’ll be sharing a lot more’n our skin with ‘em if we keep this up,” he growled, nibbling his lover’s ear. “Only I think we’d best wait till we get home for that, love.” He fumbled for Frodo’s hospital gown. “This’d be a lot easier if I let you go, wouldn’t it?” he mumbled against the lips claiming his own.

“Only if you don’t mind my loud whining if you do,” reasoned Frodo into Sam’s mouth.

Sam groaned and stretched against Frodo, arching back to reach the gown with his fingertips.

Frodo moaned and kissed the broad chest in front of him, teasing a nipple and making Sam squeak.

“Oi! Frodo-love, we’re bloody lucky enough as it is that nobody walked in on us!” Sam kissed him. “Lord knows I hate to cover you up, unless I’m in there with you, but we really should–”

Frodo’s eyes brightened and he snatched the gown from Sam’s hand and pulled it over them both. “Ask and you shall receive! Seek and ye shall find!” He pressed his lips to Sam’s and grinned. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” he added, his voice low and feral.

Sam took him in a deep kiss, exploring every nook and cranny of his mouth and as much of his body as he could reach that wasn’t bandaged.

“Sam!” Frodo gasped as they broke the kiss.

Sam ran soothing fingers over Frodo’s face. “Just a taste of what you’ll get at home,” he said, slipping the gown onto Frodo’s arms as he ran kisses over his chest. “The sooner we leave here, the sooner you can have the rest.” He kissed Frodo again, a heated promise.

“Sam, I–” Frodo never finished his sentence as Sam cursed, teleported out of bed, lunged for his clothes and dove into the bathroom just as the door opened and two curly-topped cousins popped in.

“Surprise!” </lj-cut