Title: Midyears Dance Author: Romy Brandybuck E-mail: hobbitmistress@books-of-bag-end.net Pairing: Sam/Frodo Rating: NC-17 Summary: The events of a Midyears Party turn out quite different from what Sam had expected. ~*~*~ Sam laughed as Frodo danced merrily with his sister Daisy, spinning her around wildly and then weaving them both back through the rest of the dancing couples. His master seemed to be having fun and he was quite an impressive dancer, even if he didn't often take to doing so with the lasses. He caught sight of Frodo through the crowd and noticed the graceful way in which he moved; steps flowing easily from one to the next as he spun Daisy round again with an easy elegance. Sam smiled; it was good to see Mr. Frodo out having fun, instead of being tucked away in the dusty study of Bag End with his head in some Elvish translation. Sam though that Frodo should get out more, although he would never tell him this of course, it wouldn't be his place. The song finished and Frodo returned to his seat opposite Sam, his cheeks flushed pink and his eyes sparkling merrily in the light from the lanterns. "Sam," he said warmly, picking up his ale and taking a mouthful, "You should ask Rosie for a dance." "Oh, she'd not want to dance with me, Mr. Frodo," Sam replied. "Nonsense, Sam, she's had her eye on you all night," he winked and Sam felt his cheeks grow warm. Frodo sat and stared at him pointedly, and then he grinned and shook his head as Sam made no move to rise from his seat. "Very well then," Frodo stood up, "If you shan't ask Rose to dance then..." Sam looked up quickly, was Mr. Frodo going to ask her? "..you shall dance with me!" and he grabbed Sam by the hand, yanked him out onto the floor and started spinning them both around before Sam had a chance to protest. "Mr Frodo!" Sam exclaimed, but Frodo just laughed and spun round again, ducking between two other dancing couples with practised ease. Sam had never been quite this close to Frodo before, and the fact that he was now pressed lightly against Frodo's entire body was strangely exciting. He could smell a light lavender scent, mingled with pipeweed and ale coming from Frodo. Sam was shocked to discover that not only was he enjoying dancing with Frodo, but also he was becoming aroused by it. He looked in muted horror at Frodo, who just stared back with a wickedly playful glint in his stormy blue eyes and manoeuvred them both round the floor again, and Sam could have sworn at that point, Frodo had pressed them both closer together. Sam had to do something; he felt sure that any moment now Frodo would notice the increasing hardness in his breeches and pull away from him in disgust, leaving him standing in the middle of the dance floor shamed. "Mr. Frodo Sir, can we sit down now?" "Aren't you enjoying dancing with me, Sam?" Frodo asked, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous look. "Oh no Sir, it's not that, it's," he searched his mind for an appropriate reason, he couldn't possibly tell Frodo that it was because he was in fact enjoying it a bit too much "it's just I..I..." Frodo leaned his head to one side and frowned inquisitively "What is it, Sam?" "I just want to sit down Mr. Frodo. Please?" "Sam, are you all right? You don't feel ill do you?" "A little, Sir," Sam lied; he was desperate to get back to the table now. "I'm sorry Sam, of course we can sit down, if you feel unwell." Frodo looked at him with concern, immediately ceasing to spin and twist about and stepping away slightly. "Thank you, Mr Frodo," Sam hurried away in the direction of the table, slipping gratefully into his seat and taking up his cup with a hand that trembled. He swallowed a mouthful quickly and heard Frodo approaching behind him, and by closing his eyes at just that moment, he missed the roguish grin on Frodo's face being replaced with an expression of mock concern. "Are you all right, Sam? Do you need me to help you home to bed?" Sam almost choked on his mouthful of ale, spluttering and coughing and then stammering, "N..no Sir, I just n..need to sit down for a m...minute" "If you're sure Sam. Although you do look a bit pale, are you sure bed wouldn't be a better idea?" Sam stopped himself from thinking that bed did indeed sound like a better idea and wondered briefly what exactly had happened to him tonight to be making him think such thoughts about Mr Frodo. "I'll be fine, Sir," he smiled half-heartedly and closed his eyes, once again missing the grin that passed fleetingly across Frodo's face. ****** Frodo chuckled to himself as he left Sam sitting at the table. He really shouldn't tease Sam so, but he couldn't help it after he'd noticed Sam's arousal when they had been dancing, and the flustered and embarrassed way Sam had acted only served to increase his current rascally mood further. It had been all he could do to keep from grasping Sam by the hips and grinding against him on the dance floor, and it was a miracle that Sam hadn't noticed that he was acutely aroused as well. He slipped off to the ale tent to retrieve two fresh cups for himself and Sam, grinning widely and wondering if he dared continue with the plan that had formed in his mind earlier in the day and knowing at the same time that he would. He closed his eyes momentarily and remembered what it had been like to have his body pressed close against Sam's and the way his heart had jumped to his throat when he felt Sam's arousal press against him. A familiar flutter wound its way through his belly and Frodo hastily pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and took the cups back to the table. It seemed Sam had calmed somewhat when Frodo returned to the table, and a mischievous voice in the back of Frodo's head remarked 'we'll soon fix that'. He slid the cup over the table towards Sam and asked, "Are you sure you're all right to have another, Sam? I could take you home if you want to go to bed?" The effect was instant; Sam flushed scarlet right to the tips of his ears "Q..quite all right Mr Frodo, I....I'm feeling much better now Sir." Frodo smiled at him warmly and raised his own cup to his lips, glancing at Sam over the rim as he drank and noticing that Sam's eyes never left him. He hid a grin behind the cup, taking a few deep swallows of his ale and then setting it back on the table. 'Frodo Baggins, you are enjoying this far too much' he thought to himself before turning to Sam again. "I think I might go and have another dance Sam, that is, if you're sure you don't want me to take you home." Sam fidgeted restlessly in his chair as he answered, "No, Mr. Frodo, I don't mind at all. You go and have fun," his voice slightly higher in tone than usual. "If you're sure, Sam." Frodo smiled and wandered back towards the mass of dancing Hobbits, easily finding a lass willing to be his partner and bouncing off across the floor with her. Sam lost sight of him as the crowds swallowed him up, and he looked down into his ale sighing with relief. What was wrong with him tonight? He couldn't get Frodo out of his mind, the way he moved so gracefully, the hint of that lavender scent. His stomach fluttered intensely as he imagined kissing, nay licking, that pale lavender scented skin and he shook his head, trying to free himself from the images that filled his mind. Of Frodo pressed close against him, moaning as Sam ran his tongue across a bare collarbone. This was hopeless, nothing he did could get his current chain of thought away from what he was imagining, not even thinking of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins in her bloomers. By the time Frodo returned from dancing Sam was beginning to wish he'd said yes when Frodo had asked him if he wanted to go home. Even the way Frodo had said that turned his knees to jelly, he thought of himself replying; 'Yes, Mr. Frodo, I'd like it very much if you took me home to bed'. "I am having a good time, Sam, although all this dancing is quite tiring. I shall certainly enjoy getting to bed tonight." 'I'd enjoy getting you to bed too'. Did he really just think that? He gulped, "Glad you're having a good time Sir" "I'm sure you'll be relieved to get to bed too, Sam. How are you feeling now?" "Oh fine Sir, just fine." Sam wasn't feeling just fine at all, at this very moment he felt very much un-fine and he wished Frodo would stop saying the word bed so often because it really wasn't helping him keep his mind in places where it should be. It was in fact rather distracting, because every time Frodo said it all Sam could think of was dragging Frodo off back to Bag End and throwing him onto his bed. "Sam!" Sam looked at Frodo, and he realised that he had been calling his name for the past few minutes. "Are you sure you are all right, Sam? You seem awfully distracted this evening." "I'm fine, Mr Frodo. I just.." Just what? Just rather busy thinking about pushing you up against the nearest tree, or kissing those beautiful lips of yours, or... "Sam!" "Mr Frodo." Sam stared dumbly at him. "I really think I had better take you home, Sam. You should be in bed." 'Lady no, he didn't just say bed again'. "Oh please stop saying that," he gasped, realising he had said the words aloud. "Saying what, Sam?" Frodo's face twisted in confusion. "N...n....nothing, Sir." "Sam Gamgee, what is wrong with you tonight?" Frodo reached out a hand to Sam's face and Sam shivered as he felt it brush along his forehead. He reached up quickly and took Frodo's hand in his own. "Please Sir," he whispered, not letting go of the hand for several moments longer than was necessary. He closed his eyes, his stomach turning in circles and tingles running through his body. Again Sam missed Frodo's grin and the glint in his eyes. Frodo knew that things had gone far enough, Sam was practically leaping in the air every time he so much as spoke to him. Inside his head a little voice said softly 'now'. He leaned closer to Sam and put his arms around him; bringing his mouth next to his ear he whispered huskily, "Samwise Gamgee, I should like it very much if you would let me take you home...........to *my* bed." ********* 'I'm hearing things, I have to be,' thought Sam as Frodo whispered in his ear. "Samwise Gamgee, I should like it very much if you would let me take you home......to my bed." Sam trembled, Frodo's breath against his ear sent tendrils of prickly heat through his head; he looked up at Frodo, hesitantly meeting his eyes and breathing somewhat rapidly. "Come on, Sam," Frodo said, louder this time, "I think its time I got you home." "Yes Sir," his voice quiet and his legs shaking as Frodo helped him to stand. "You really should have told me you felt so unwell, Sam," Frodo turned and smiled at him. "I'm sorry, Mr Frodo, I didn't want to trouble you Sir," Sam had absolutely no idea why he had said that, he wasn't unwell at all and from what Frodo had whispered in his ear he guessed that Frodo had known that all along. He stayed quiet as Frodo led him away from the party, his heart booming in his chest and his stomach turning somersaults. Frodo chatted to a few people as the passed; making hasty apologies for leaving so early. Soon they were alone on the road, Frodo still with one arm about Sam's waist, even though it was no longer needed. Sam was still in a state of disbelief, was he really going to....? He sucked in a sharp breath and Frodo stopped. "Sam, you don't have to come home with me, not if you don't want to." "Mr Frodo," Sam turned to face him, gazing deeply into his eyes. "Yes, Sam?" a mere whisper. There seemed to be no words that Sam could find the strength to speak, so he leaned forward and kissed Frodo gently upon the lips. No more than a mere peck, but it set Sam's whole head tingling, and Frodo sighed softly. "Oh!" "Yes," Sam breathed, "I want to." Frodo reached up and brushed his fingers across Sam's cheek, tucking an errant curl behind his ear with his fingertips. His hand was trembling as he moved it back down and cupped one side of Sam's face with it, leaning in and brushing his lips across Sam's. "We should......." He whispered. "Yes........." Sam answered as his arm reached round Frodo and pulled him closer, returning Frodo's brush against his lips with one of his own. "Sam." Frodo pressed his mouth against Sam's again, catching his bottom lip with his teeth and nibbling lightly. Sam felt Frodo's hand tangle through his curls and he moaned as Frodo's tongue touched his lip, opening his mouth to the welcome intrusion. Frodo's tongue slipped inside tentatively, running along the roof of his mouth and making him shiver. He heard Frodo groan loudly and realised that his hands had strayed down to Frodo's hips and he was gripping them tightly and pressing his own forward to meet them. "Sam," Frodo pulled his head away, "Dear Sam, I do so hate to stop you, but we really shouldn't; not here." Sam shook himself, remembering that they were still stood in the lane and that someone could come along and see them any minute. "Sorry, it's just....." "I know." They broke apart from each other and resumed their journey up the hill towards Bag End. ******** The door wasn't even fully closed when Sam took Frodo in his arms again, gently pushing him backwards so he was pressed up against the wall of the smial. A small groan sounded from Frodo as their lips met, he curled his arms around Sam's shoulders fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of Sam's neck. They both gasped as their tongues touched, pressing urgently and yet slowly together, mouths closed over each other's and a slow heat rising between them that threatened to boil over any moment. Sam found that his fingers were undoing Frodo's buttons. First weskit and then shirt, pushing both aside to expose the milky expanse of Frodo's chest. He trailed kisses down Frodo's neck; Frodo's head tipping to one side and soft breaths and gasps escaping his lips as Sam explored the soft flesh with his tongue, teeth and lips. The tension between them was almost unbearable, like a taught bowstring that might snap back at any moment and send an arrow of passion surging through them both. But still their movements remained slow, deliberate, stretching the tension tighter and tighter with every soft caress and low whispering moan. "Sam!" Frodo leaned his head back against the wall as Sam's mouth found his nipple, teasing it into an erect nub and then nipping at it with his teeth. Frodo felt every muscle in his body spasm when Sam drew away slightly and blew a cool breath upon it. His legs buckled beneath him but Sam's arms were there holding him upright as he returned his mouth to the nipple, twirling lazy circles about it with the tip of his tongue; gentle then firm. Frodo felt helpless, he couldn't move, he couldn't even think as he felt Sam's hands slide down his sides and round to the back of his legs, lifting Frodo from the floor. Instinctively Frodo wrapped his legs around Sam's hips and locked his ankles together and when Sam pressed him tightly back into the wall, the though occurred to Frodo that Sam might just slowly ravish him right there. Then Sam's hips rocked against him slightly, the friction sending bolts of pleasure coursing through him as Sam's mouth found his once more. Sam moved again, quicker this time and Frodo cried out into Sam's mouth, arching his back away from the wall. He managed to whisper between kisses, the only coherent word that he could manage. "Bed..." Sam let Frodo slide down to the floor at this, but he didn't move away, instead his hands moved to the ties of Frodo's breeches and began to draw them open. "No, here," he whispered into Frodo's ear as he slid the breeches over his hips and let them drop to the floor. Frodo gasped, did Sam just say no to him? Apparently he had because he was now picking him back up again and his breeches slipped from his legs and onto the floor as Sam once again pressed him beck against the wall. Frodo realised that Sam was still fully clothed and he began frantically tugging at the fastenings of Sam's clothes, unlacing the strings to his breeches and shifting his legs about so he could pull them down Sam's hips. All the while, Sam was tracing patterns on his neck and the ridge of his ear with a hot tongue. The breeches finally dropped down and Sam kicked them away while Frodo made quick work of the buttons on his weskit and shirt. He pushed them aside, revealing Sam's chest but when he had moved to push them off Sam's shoulders he heard Sam whisper, "leave them". Their mouths crushed together urgently as Sam began to rock against Frodo, crushing him back against the wall and moaning. Whatever Frodo had expected when he had asked Sam to come back with him, it certainly wasn't this. It seemed Sam knew exactly where and how to touch him to send waves of pleasure rolling through him. "Sam, Sam.......I want........oh.........aaahhhhhhhh..." "Frodo, I love you." Frodo tried to return this declaration but he couldn't form words, only hitch cries came from him. The whole world ceased to exist, there was only this, only Sam, only the heat that had erupted in his belly. He arched his back and screamed Sam's name as he felt his own undoing. Sam heard Frodo's cry and he let go, at last allowing the moment to wash over him, immersing him completely in wave after wave of searing ecstasy, gasping Frodo's name one last time as he released. ****** Sam still held Frodo against the wall, gripping him tight, head resting on his chest. Frodo was entwined about Sam, legs still locked together at his back, panting heavily onto Sam's shoulder. "I love you, Sam." "I love you too," he looked up at Frodo and smiled. "Come on," he said, lifting Frodo away from the wall and carrying him down the hall towards Frodo's bedroom. "Let's go to bed, and you can tell me what it was you wanted."