The sun was high in the sky. Birds where singing happily in the trees. Little squirrels were taking their first careful steps out on the branches of their home- three. Summer had come to the Shire. Frodo was wearing a light poplin- shirt and red, thin summerpants, the coolest clothes he owned. Nevertheless he stayed in the shadowed parts of Bag Ends gardens, to escape the licking sunbeams. But here, under a big parasol Sam kindly had placed in Frodos favourite part of the garden earlier in the morning together with a small bench, Frodo found himself quite happy and cool. At this moment Sam was back in the house, fetching a little coffee- table and something cold to drink.
He came scrambling back seconds later, with the table under one arm and a mug of ice- cold lemonade in his right hand. He struggled with keeping the lemonade in the mug. "Excuse me, Master Frodo sir. Could you bee so kind to hold this for me for a little while? It will be easier for me to set up your table then, If you follow me, Sir? It'll be difficult with the one hand, if you see." "That's the least I could do, dear Sam. After all, you are the one doing all the work around here." Sam blushed slightly and arranged the table. "That' s not true, Mr. Frodo.", he said and reached for the mug with both hands. "You do lots, more than I!" And so he looked around with a confused look on his face as if he'd forgotten something. "Ah, but off course!" He slapped his forehead; "I'm loosing my wits, the Gaffer would say."; Sam sighed and pointed at the mug on the table. "A glass!" He ran off back into the house. Frodo smiled as he watched Sam in his hurry to please his master. He was truly blessed to have such a trusty servant as Sam!
After a little while Sam came running back with a glass, which he placed on the table and filled with lemonade for his master. "But what about you?", Frodo objected; "Didn't you get one for yourself?" Sam's cheeks hit red once more. "Bless me, Mr. Frodo, I didn't think of that!", he said and was about to turn around to run back into the house again. "That's OK Sam, we can share!" Frodo got a hold of his arm before he managed to move. Sam looked at him, sheepishly. "Are you sure, Mr. Frodo? I won't mind going back to get a glass for me, I don't mind really.." Frodo handed him the glass he'd just been drinking from. "Here my good friend, drink!" Sam smiled as if he'd won an award and lifted the glass to his lips, drinking until he hit bottom. "Oh no, how thoughtless of me, Mr Frodo! Now there's nothing left for you!" "Well, let me work my magic for you then, young Gamgee.", Frodo replied and poured new lemonade in the glass. "Ah now I never..", Sam said and smiled. "It has to be this heat, it's stealing my wits!" He wiped his wet forehead with the back of his hand. "Then I think I will return to my work, Mr. Frodo, if there's nothing more I can do for you? Frodo shook his head and laughed. "No, I wouldn't keep you from doing what you love the most!" Sam got an eager expression on his face, as he always did when he was about to start his daily chores in the gardens of Bag Ends. "Then I think I will go trimming the hedge, Mr. Frodo. It's starting to get shabby in the edges."
Frodo watched Sam while he slowly worked his way around the garden with his shears. Happy eyes lit up his face and he was whistling on an old tune Bilbo once taught him years ago. Frodo knew how fond Sam was of this garden, and one could easily see that every straw, every little flower three and bush shared his enthusiasm. Everything grew vigorous and well in Bag Ends black, fertile soil with Sam's helping hands. His father, The Gaffer, also was a marvellous gardener, and Sam had, no doubt, learned a great deal from him. But Sam was born with a special gift of making things grow and prosper that none other of the family of Gamgees possessed. With a sigh Frodo smiling tried to focus on the book he had in his hands. One thought filled his mind as he concentrated on the letters on page 342; The world wouldn't be the same without his dear Sam Gamgee!
Sam seldom had a problem with the weather. He loved spending time outdoors no matter if it rained or even snowed. But even he had his limits when it came to heat. Soon the licking sunbeams started to get annoying even to him, and sweet summer- sweat tied the shirt to his back and made his curls glitter in the sunlight. After a while he took off his west, planning to lay it next to the legs of the table where his master sat so that he would remember it later. Frodo put his book aside and watched him as he folded the west and carefully lay it down on the ground.
"Drink some more lemonade, Sam. You really shouldn't be working in this heat!" Sam smiled. A sparkling, happy smile that left Frodo with the knowing that nothing could destroy his joy of doing his daily chores in the garden. Not even red-hot sunbeams licking down his back. Frodo was starting to feel like a cooked turkey back here in the shadowed parts of the Ends, might wonder how it was out there, in the sun! "Don't you worry about me Mr. Frodo.", Sam said and let his hand run through wet curls. "Sun, wind, rain or snow- nothing can get to old Sam!" He drank the glass Frodo handed him and after wards he went back to his work, back straight and proud, just as eager as he'd been an hour earlier.
Half an hour later he came back, with a somewhat embarrassed look on his face. "So you've finally bowed for the heat and come to keep me company?" Frodo smiled and moved aside to make room for Sam on the bench. "Umm, no.. That's not it.", Sam said and rubbed his neck; "I mean, I would love to keep you company Mr. Frodo, but I would like to finish the last part of the hedges first. It wouldn't take more than an hour or so. If you're still out here in the gardens by that time I sure won't mind to keep you company, if that's all right by you Mr. Frodo sir. If you follow me?" Sam's eyes got bigger and bigger as he rambled on. Frodo smiled, quite entertained. "That's all right Sam. No need for excuses. And I shall sit here until you are finished, and then you and I can have a good, long talk." Frodo ran his hand over his cheek. "But what was it you wanted if not keeping an old geezer company? Sam turned his eyes almost shamefully to the ground. "It's the heat, Mr. Frodo.", he said and blushed; "It's starting to get hot even for old Sam now. Therefore I wondered, If I can be so forward sir, if I could take my shirt off, put it here with my west while I finish my work. But if you have any objections against it I surely won't make you embarrassed by parading around practically in my birthday- suit." Frodo couldn't help but laughing. "Dear Sam!", he said and dried a tear; "Dear, good Sam. More shy than the fairest of virgins. Take your shirt off, by all means!!!! I have seen you with your shirt off before, you know, even if you thought no one could see you from the steps of Bag Ends."
Sam now was red as a ripe tomato, and the desire to get the clingy shirt off his back had been replaced with a desperate longing to keep it on. And it shocked him to learn that his sneaking around, shirt off, not had been as successfully secret as he'd thought.
You see; Hobbits are quite distinguished beings and seldom undress their upper body as well as their lower regions unless it's bathing-time. "And it's definitely NOT bathing- time!', Sam thought and wished he could vanish into thin air. But with his masters permission take the clothing off, it would be rude to return to work with the shirt on. Therefore Sam, quite dazzled by his own boldness took off his shirt, folded it and put it on top of his west. Now that wouldn't be hard to remember! He felt naked and tried his best to hide behind the little coffee- table. "Sure I'm not making you embarrassed Mr. Frodo?", he squeaked and tried to get as small as possible. But Frodo didn't seem to mind at all, he smiled. "I think you are the embarrassed one, dear Sam!", he said with a big grin all over his face; "I don't see why, you have nothing to be embarrassed of!" With these words ringing in his ears Sam went stormblushing back to work.
Frodos smile broadened while Sam found his shears and started working again. His mind started wandering, and little by little a well-hidden desire awoke in Frodos heart. A trembling feeling that had been lurking in secrecy for a couple of years now, ever since Sam released his father as gardener of Bag End. He watched Sam as he was sweating over the hedge and felt his pulse rice.
Sam had been a part of the inventory of Bag Ends ever since he was a little hobbit. Even before he could walk his father brought him along and let him crawl around in the garden while he was working. Bilbo kept an eye with him, off course, and entertained him if he got bored and held him on his lap when he got tired. And when he learned to walk he followed young Frodo, fourteen years older, around everywhere and never let him be. Sure, he could be a pain at times, but Frodo was as fond of the little round face and loving smile as any. Bilbo even wondered at times if there where elven- blood in his veins. "He's much to beautiful to just be plain hobbit!", he used to say to the Gaffer. "Well, I best be checking with the misses.", the Gaffer would reply, making them both laugh until their stomach's aced and they had to sit down and rest for a while. Yes, Sam had been a beautiful child, and seemed to grow lovelier still. In a couple of months he would turn 33, and would be counted as a grown hobbit.
Frodo sighed. As he watched Sam, who'd begun whistling again, the feelings he'd kept so well hidden in the darkness of his heart grew even stronger. Now they were fighting to get out in the daylight, slowly tearing his defences apart. Frodo knew it was only a matter of time before he was defeated, but he also knew that no one could find out. Least of all Sam. This inner struggle was a daily part of Frodos life, but now his feelings were about to get to strong. As he sat there silently fighting the fight of his life, Sam turned his head, right at him and smiled- a sparkling joyful smile, while the sun made his sweat body shine. He was a sturdy hobbit, but muscular and supple. The book felt down from Frodos lap, he could no longer take his eyes from him.
Sam soon forgot the icky feeling of nakedness. He started whistling again moments after he'd grabbed a hold of his shears and returned to his work. His mood was rising and he more or less forgot about the whole shirt. Still, somehow, Sam sensed something unusual. Not sure what, but something.. Probably it was nothing else but the pressing heat making his nut crumble, as the Gaffer would say, but never the less Sam got this strange feeling of untold secrets. Or something else, he wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure about was that it somehow was connected with his master. At times he was a hobbit of few words, but Sam usually was aware of his masters thoughts even before Frodo knew them himself. But then again Sam loved his master above all earth and would gladly leap to his death if necessary, to save him. Not that anything like that ever would arise here in safe, old Shire, but never the less Sam would do it, without a blink of his eye.
He looked up on the blue sky, closing his eyes for a second. Yep, there was definitely something in the air, like a shadow hanging over him. But Sam couldn't decide what it was about, not yet. He suddenly felt a strange urge to turn around to the direction Frodo was sitting. Why he didn't know, just this weird longing to see Frodo's face. Surprised he discovered that Frodo was watching him. Usually he read one of his many books while Sam was doing his chores in the garden, but now he sat there following Sam with his eyes. He returned Sam's smile in spite of a weird expression clouding his face. "He's probably thinking of old Bilbo.", Sam thought and his eyes gained a sad glance. He also missed the old hobbit. He'd always loved the moments when Bilbo told stories about his great adventure and, not at least, tales about the elves. Fifteen years ago he'd left the Shire for his last big journey and never came back. Where he now was, and if he still was alive no one knew. The loss and sorrow weighed Frodo down at times and Sam's hart ached to make Bilbo magically reappear so that joy would return to his master's face.
Actually there where many things Sam wished he could do for his master. Might wonder how Mr. Frodo would react if Sam had told him some truths about him self. But that could never be, the world wasn't created this way. Besides he, or to be more precise the Gaffer, had promised his heart to Rose Cotton, a wonderful creature Sam adored with all of his heart. She was a beautiful hobbit- lass, with a good sense of humour and strong meanings. Sam had spent much time with Rose and her older brothers in his childhood, and soon realised that if he was ever to get married it had to be to Rose. But what was this strange aching that awoke every time his eyes found Mr. Frodo? "You're only tying your bonds of friendship a bit too tight, Sam Gamgee!" he mumbled to him self and went back to the trimming.
Frodo felt sick. A craving he'd never felt before was about to break down all of his willpower. But what was he trying to avoid? He stared at Sam that for the moment had stopped his work, as if he had found something in the hedge. He saw muscles lying under sun- tanned skin and he looked at the curls in Sam's neck, wet of sweat curling even more than usual. Dearest Sam. Frodo saw he had to get away from here before his sense of judgement got so weak he'd do something unbearable. But before he got to do anything, Sam called in soft voice: "Mr. Frodo sir! Come see what I've found!" Sam waved at him eagerly and before Frodo even knew what he was doing, his feet had brought him down where Sam was standing.
A smile of secrecy was all over Sam's face and he beckoned his master to come closer. "Come and take a peek in here, Mr. Frodo!" He held some branches aside so that it formed a peep- hole into the middle of the hedge. Frodo hesitated for a moment before he slowly moved closer. To see Sam's secret, which was hidden deep within the hedge, Frodo had to lean close to Sam, so close their bodies toughed. As Sam's naked back touched his chest Frodo was about to faint. What was happening to him??!?! "Do you see?", Sam looked over his shoulder, too excited to notice his master gasping for air. "Where?", Frodo asked and desperately tried to look where he was intended. He felt like his head was about to explode and he had to tie him self not to lay his arm around Sam.
Instead he leant against Sam's shoulder. "In there, behind those branches. Don't you see them Mr. Frodo?" He felt Sam's body tremble of excitement. And then he finally noticed what had captured Sam's interest. There, in the hedge behind some twigs was a tiny bird's nest. And in the nest three little featherballs were cheeping with tiny beaks, hoping to get some food down their little throats. "Now would you believe.." Frodo smiled and leaned closer. "Aren't they cute?" Sam had a dreaming expression in his face. "I think we'd better let part of the hedge grow in peace this summer... If it's all right by you then Mr. Frodo? He let go of the twigs and the nest disappeared behind thick leaves again. "Off, they were almost to well hidden, I nearly ran them over with my shears!"
Sam turned towards his master: "Do you know Mr. Fro..." The words froze on his lips and he couldn't move, staring into his masters blue gaze. There was something new in his eyes, something Sam never had seen before, something... different. Their gazes locked, and Sam couldn't let go. Frodo took one step forward. Sam felt his pulse pounding in his ears. Frodo moved yet one more step closer. They were close now, only divided by twenty centimetres of air.
All of his senses screamed at him to stop, run. Flee while he had the chance. Still Frodo inexorable got dragged against Sam as if his big, brown eyes worked like magnets. Sam felt Frodo's breath against his chin, like a feather. His head whizzed with a feeling he couldn't understand. Suddenly Sam felt like he was drowning in his master's blue, blue eyes.
It all happened so soon that Sam didn't have the time to react. Frodo's lips softly embracing his. Sam's tongue which welcomed it in a moment of senseless astonishment and with a desire he never knew his heart was able to achieve.
Suddenly Frodo realised what he had done. With the world falling down around him Frodo pushed Sam roughly away. "Forgive me Sam!", he moaned and staggered: "I didn't mean to...! Miserable he fell to his knees. Now he'd done it. Now he'd lost Sam!
Sam was so confused he almost lost a hold of his feet when his master shoved him away. Frodo looked devastated, on his knees in front of him. But Sam could do no more than to gape for the present. He could still feel the warmth from his masters lips and astonished he lifted a finger to his mouth as if to check he wasn't dreaming. Then it dawned to him that his master was lying on his knees, begging for forgiveness, tears running down his cheeks. Sam got down on his knees. It pierced his heart to see the despair and anguish in Frodos bent neck. "Forgive you for what Mr. Frodo?", he said quietly: "I guess we were two about it. So then I can't forgive you before you have forgiven me." He took Frodos hand between both of his and kissed it gently. "I don't think I've realised this before now, Mr. Frodo." , his voice hardly audible: "I think I love you."
Frodo lifted his head in disbelief. Was he starting to hear voices in his head now? He studied Sam's clear- cut features, but couldn't find any sign of anger. There was something else in Sam's eyes, something Frodo had fantasised about for so many nights. Could it be... love? Frodo opened his mouth to speak, but there came no sound from his throat. The sight of Sam who sat here in front of him, staring him calm and firm in the eyes, in spite of the storm of feelings that no doubt raged inside him got to Frodo so much he couldn't speak a word. Never had Sam looked more lovely in Frodos eyes!
With his left hand Sam carefully wiped the tears of Frodos cheeks. Once again he was amazed by his own boldness. He'd told Frodo about his forbidden feelings! And now they both were sitting on the grass of Bag Ends, silent, without the strength to break the magic atmosphere that turned the air to porridge and their heartbeats to the drumming of giant drums.
"I love him!" This confession was just as surprising to Sam as it had been to Frodo. And so he broke the magic silence and repeated his words, scarcely a whisper in the warm summer's day. "I think I love you, Mr. Frodo." He bursted into tears. Terrified Frodo heard Sam's words once more and suddenly he realised what he had done to the boy. And when the tears started running down Sam's cheeks he panicked. With a violent jerk he got to his feet and stumbled frightened away, heading for the house, half blinded by his madness. Sam cried after him to stop, but his ears could no longer hear. Inside the master bedroom he locked the door behind him, a lock never been used as long as Frodo could remember, and there he threw him self on the bed, conscience black as night and with his heart flaming with forbidden love.
Frodos terrible reaction caught Sam off guard and Frodo therefore got a head start. When Sam tumbled to his feet Frodo was already half way to the hobbit- hole. "Mr. Frodo!", he cried, but Frodo didn't stop. He ran after his master imploring him once more to stop, tears stinging his eyes and heart slamming against his chest. He shouldn't have told Frodo! He should have kept his big mouth shut! He came to the hall just to hear he door to his master's bedchamber slam shut, followed by a sound Sam never had heard before. He ran to the door and knocked on it gently: "Mr. Frodo... may I enter?" Sam didn't know that the door was locked. But he would never enter his master's bedroom without permission. Hopefully he waited for an answer from behind the door, but it remained silent. Sam believed his heart would stop beating as he turned his back to the door and slowly went down the hall, his head bowed.
Dear Lord how he aced to run to the door, unlock it and drag Sam inside, hold him close and never let him go! Frodo had to bite his lip not to cry out his frustration. All this because of a wretched shirt and a few seconds of uncontrollable lust?!!? He swung his legs over the bedside and buried his face in his hands. He'd never guessed Sam nurtured the same feelings for him. But he was fourteen years older than Sam and... Frodo moaned and pulled his hair. Why was he even thinking this thoughts? It was hopeless. No matter their feelings this could never be. They were Hobbit- men. Hobbit- men fell in love with and married Hobbit- women. Never had there been two of the same kind doing that. At least not as Frodo knew. Never. Outside Sam seemed to have begun fiddling with the hedge again. Loud sniffles now and again told Frodo he still was crying.
An hour had passed, maybe two, when soft knocking once more came from outside the door. "I've finished the hedge, Mr. Frodo" Sam's voice was quiet and sad. "Except from the part where the nest is. I didn't have the heart to remove the little featherballs, even if they most likely wouldn't mind moving up to one of the fine threes here in Bag Ends. I thought it might be hard for their parents to find them then, after I'd moved them to a new place, if you follow me." Silence followed his last words for a while, as if he waited for a reply from the shut door. Then there was a heavy sigh and the sound of a hand stroking wood. "I guess I'll be going home then. Good afternoon Mr. Frodo."
The dark blanket of night had covered all of the Shire before Frodo dared to leave his bedchamber. His head and body felt giddy after the long hours without food and water. But he had no appetite and settled for a glass of water to get rid of his thirst. He manoeuvred around in the kitchen for a bit, searching for matches in the dusk, cursing silently when he kicked one of the table- legs. Finally he found what he was looking for and lit the old oillamp which was standing on the kitchen- table. He brought it to the livingroom, planning to make a fire on the fireplace, maybe that would brighten his dark mind. But as he entered the livingroom he suddenly became aware of a strange sound that didn't belong there, a sound that seemed to be coming from one of his chairs. It was the sound of the heavy breathing of a sleeping hobbit. And not any old hobbit, but the sound of the same one who'd excused himself and left earlier that same day.
Sam was really planning to go home in all his misery. But as he was about to pass the threshold a strange force denied him to leave Bag End. And so he'd sunken down in one of his master's comfortable armchairs and at length fallen asleep, miserable and tired.
It was here Frodo now found him, hours later, and looked at him ith a mixture of terrible fear and longing in his heart. He knew Sam was a sound sleeper and seldom got to be bothered with bad dreams, but there was a grief in Sam's sleeping face Frodo had never seen before. Without a sound he moved closer, terrified of waking his servant from his sleep. Most of all he wanted to sneak back to the bedroom where he felt safe, but something held him back. Sam. Frodo held out a trembling hand and only just touched Sam's chin. "I love you too, Samwise Gamgee!", he whispered, and before he knew it himself he bent down and kissed Sam's brow.
Sam awoke the second he felt Frodo's warm lips against his forehead. He sat up, quickly, and grabbed his master's hand. "Please Mr. Frodo, don't run away from me again!", he said urgently and a bit desperately as Frodo tried to get away. Sam looked at him tearstung and silently added: "I don't think I could bear it." He lowered his head almost shamefully to the ground: "I love you, Mr. Frodo, I can't help it. But I wish I'd kept my big mouth shut. Now I've ruined it, you'll probably never speak to me again." Frodo placed the lamp on the floor with a very trembling hand. "Sam... look at me.", he said, his voice threatening to fail him. "Look at me Sam!" Almost reluctant Sam lifted his gaze. His eyes where flooded with tears and such misery it even exceeded Frodos. "I love you Sam!" The words came slowly, Frodo had to get them from deep within, from the darkest corner of his very soul where he'd kept his feelings hidden for so long. "I've loved you... as long as I can remember." The words seemed poor in the dim room. But Sam's eyes slowly sparked and started to shine, as if they'd been lit by Frodo's words. "Do you?", he whispered while the tairs running from his eyes became tears of happiness. He got to his feet, unsteady, not sure what would happen next. Frodo seemed to ponder the same thing, but once more this invisible power dragged them towards each other.
Sam put his hand behind Frodo's head and carefully pulled him closer, softly his lips closed on Frodos open, gasping mouth. He ran his fingers trough Frodos hair with a gentle hand , and his heart that had been aching of grief and loneliness just minutes ago now aced of a different feeling so big that Sam wondered how something that huge could fit inside him. Also this time Frodo was the one to finish the kiss, but now slowly, to get a glimpse of Sam's dark eyes. "You are so beautiful!", he whispered and let Sam drag him back into his arms again. "No one is more beautiful than you, Mr. Frodo!", Sam whispered back into his masters ear before he kissed his neck and fondled Frodo's back with his hands.
With a huge effort Frodo got out of Sam's embrace once more. Sam looked at him, wondering, with desire burning in his eyes. Now what? Frodo took Sam's hand in his, simultaneously picking up the lamp with his free hand. "Follow me.", he said gently and took Sam by the hand to his bedchamber. There he left Sam alone in the middle of the floor while he placed the lamp on a chest of drawers standing by the bed. The light made the room glow in a deep red that covered Sam's blushing cheeks. Frodo came back and lay his arms around him, pulled him close and let his tongue go on a joyride deep inside Sam's mouth. All sorrow and doubt were vanished. Now Sam was everything, worries were no longer allowed.
Frodo's hot breath down his neck sent sweet sparkles down Sam's back and rooted everywhere, but most of all in the lower regions. "You are so good to me!", he said, nearly choked by in his own joy as he gave his master a devoted kiss. Frodo answered by letting his hands wander all over Sam's chest before he, which for Sam seemed like an eternity, slowly started to unbutton his shirt. As he did this they looked at each other in silence, both searching the other ones eyes for signs of regrets or insecurity. And so Sam was standing there, shirt off again, after Frodo had dragged it gently off his arms and let it fall to the floor. "You are so handsome Sam!", he whispered and let his hands slide down smooth, soft skin. Sam's chest jerked violently, reacting on Frodo's caress. "Frodo!", he gasped: "I think I'm sick! I can't breathe!" "Then we're both sick!", Frodo answered and smiled. He felt the same way.
Now it was Frodo's turn. Sam unbuttoned his shirt with such gentleness that Frodo no longer could hold back an impatient moan, longing to hold Sam close again. "I'm sorry Mr. Frodo. It's just that I'm so darn happy right now. I'd wish this moment to last forever, if you see what I mean.", Sam explained and kissed Frodo on the nose. "I know all to well, dearest Sam.", Frodo replied with a warm smile and returned Sam's kiss.
But the desire now burning hot in both of them couldn't be tamed for much longer. Sam was gasping for air with every touch and Frodo didn't do much better, aching in every part of his body. "I don't know about you Mr. Frodo, but I feel like I'm going to explode!", Sam exclaimed, moaning while Frodo tenderly bit his earlobe. Frodo stopped and looked at Sam for a little while, determined to savour this moment for the future. "I love you Sam!", he tenderly announced. And then he once more took Sam's hand and lead him to the bed. This night was theirs.
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