Title: Secrets
Author: Nienna Calaquendi (nienna_calaquendi@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Frodo/Sam
Part: 1/1
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Fluffy. Very fluffy.
Summary: Love is in bloom on a summer afternoon in the 
Shire.
Disclaimer: I acknowledge that someone other than myself 
holds the copyright to these characters. No profit has been 
made from this story.



Secrets

"I've never seen the sky look quite so blue as it does 
today, Sam," I mused. We lay on the south bank of the river 
that flows into Hobbiton, far away from the village, tucked 
out of sight in a swath of tall grasses that stretched 
sunward. Hazy summer heat shimmered in the distance, across 
the ripening fields. Where we were hidden, though, the 
breeze off the water was pleasantly cool and the old quilt 
we lay upon for a few stolen hours and a picnic lunch was 
soft and warm.

Sam cast a speculative look my way, judging, I suppose, the 
response I was after. He rolled onto his side to face me. 
"Not half so blue as your eyes are, I reckon." His voice 
was serious, but his hazel eyes twinkled. 

I couldn't help but smile. Sam loved to tease, I had found, 
but I resisted being drawn into a flirting match just yet. 
"Look at the water, Sam, and how it reflects the clouds."
	
"That it does, Mr. Frodo." 

I lay on my back, propped on my elbows to look around. The 
afternoon sun rode high, the ancient silver willows that 
lined the river casting dancing shadows upon us. What few 
clouds there were drifted swiftly to the east, as thick and 
puffy and full as fresh whipped cream on an apple tart. 

"Looks like a thunderstorm comin' in by nightfall," Sam 
observed. I glanced over, my puzzlement obvious; how he 
knew such things I would never understand. He nodded at the 
horizon, explaining, "The clouds, buildin' up like that 
from the west, and how they're movin'"

"By nightfall, hmm?" I replied. "If it's a bad storm, you 
mightn't be able to get home and would have to stay the 
night with me."

He chuckled. "Aye, such a long walk home it is from Bag 
End, what with the pourin' rain and all."

"Indeed." Comfortable silence stretched between us. I 
didn't want to think about returning home and pretending 
that nothing had changed when *everything* had, and not so 
very long ago. The world had suddenly become new and 
different and full of wonder for Sam and I, for reasons 
that all those around us would neither comprehend nor 
appreciate. 

Sam shifted nearer, pillowing his head on his arm to gaze 
up at me, not yet touching but so close I could feel the 
warmth of his body, tangible as the strong golden sunshine. 
I settled down, facing him, near enough to share breath. 
This was a game we sometimes played, getting as close as 
possible without touching--and seeing how long we could 
stand it. I usually lost.

Sam's face was contemplative, inches from mine. "What does 
a day like this make you think about, Frodo?"

"Lying on a blanket in the sun with you," I responded 
quickly.

"No, really."

"But it's true!" I insisted. "There's not a thing in the 
world I would rather be doing today."

That coaxed a slow smile from him. "Aye, and that goes 
double for me. But I just..." His voice trailed off and he 
looked away, his eyes growing distant. 

"What, Sam?" There was little he wouldn't tell me, given 
enough persuasion, but vague worry rippled over me like a 
passing cloud and I reached out to squeeze his shoulder. 

He glanced down at my hand then returned thoughtful eyes to 
my face, reminding me silently that he had won our little 
game again, though that victory did not appear to lighten 
his serious mood. 

"I just wonder sometimes, sir, that is..."

"Sam," I said firmly. "What are *you* thinking about?"

He sighed, lifting a gentle hand to brush a stray curl off 
my forehead. 

"Well, I been thinkin' about...um...us." His brow wrinkled. 
"Fact of the matter is, I don't want to be anywhere but 
right here with you, right now, just like you said. But I 
get to thinkin' about goin' *back*, y'see. I'm right tired 
of makin' excuses to the Gaffer, keepin' secrets, tired of 
sittin' in the pub and makin' sure I act just so. Havin' to 
hide the way I feel. I don't like hidin.'"

"Nor do I, dear Sam," I answered. "I don't like lying to 
Bilbo, either, and I'm sure he knows I'm keeping secrets 
from him." I paused, considering. "Well, one particular 
secret."

"Some days I just about can't stand it, sir. I want to tell 
'em all how happy I am, how happy *we* are, and I can't. It 
ain't right."

"No, it's not, and I would wish for things to be different, 
too." I sighed, and Sam held out his arms for me. I 
wriggled closer, resting my head on his shoulder. All 
thoughts of keeping open space between us were instantly 
forgotten when he curled his leg possessively over mine and 
pressed the length of our bodies snugly together.

I didn't have any easy words of comfort for him, knowing 
that it would be foolish to declare ourselves openly, even 
to our families. My own reputation concerned me not at all, 
but I cared too much for Sam to risk exposing him to 
ridicule, or worse. But it hurt me to know that our need 
for secrecy weighed on his mind so heavily--especially 
since I had absolutely no intention of giving him up. I 
could only hope he felt the same way.

Sam stroked my hair, knowing well how I loved to be 
caressed and held. It seemed his strength and caring 
radiated into me when we were close, enveloping me in his 
calm, comforting presence and shutting out the rest of the 
world. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment, as if I could 
store those feelings and return to them when I lay alone at 
night, longing for him. 

"When I'm not with you," I whispered against his throat, "I 
miss you terribly. And I hold you inside me, inside my 
heart, like the deepest and most precious of secrets."

He kissed the top of my head. After a long moment, he 
answered softly, "Well, I ain't never been nobody's 
*secret* before. Guess I don't mind so much bein' yours, 
when you put it that way."

"Mine," I smiled. "My secret." He kissed my forehead, my 
cheek, the tip of my nose. 

"*Our* secret, Frodo." Then his mouth, generous and warm 
and seeking, covered mine and his hands tangled in my hair. 
I tipped my face upward, his closeness as much as the 
brilliant afternoon sun flooding my body with warmth. We 
kissed slowly, deliberately, taking our time as we were 
rarely able to do. His tongue flicked lightly over my lips 
and I caught it playfully between my teeth before 
succumbing and kissing him open-mouthed and hungry. He 
overwhelmed me, flooded my senses, and I craved him. 

I threw my head back as he traced a line of tender little 
nibbles from jaw to collarbone, lost in the sensation, fine 
shivers tingling my skin. Already he had me trembling. He 
rolled us over, pinning me to the blanket, his body 
covering mine. For a long moment he gazed into my eyes 
before kissing me again, soft and slow and lingering.  I 
wondered what he saw, flushed and breathless as I was, but 
it made him smile.

"Sam," I murmured, stroking his back, tracing the thick 
muscles of his shoulders. I could feel the press of his 
arousal against my belly, my own eagerly straining to meet 
it, but he lay quietly between my legs, unmoving. His mouth 
captured mine again, harder, more insistently, his tongue 
plunging inside to claim and possess. I stifled a moan, my 
control already wavering, and arched up against him. 

"Shh, settle down, now," he whispered, moving away just 
enough to access my shirt buttons, opening them slowly, one 
by one, kissing each inch of skin as it was exposed. He 
trailed his fingers lightly over my chest and lowered his 
face to nuzzle first one nipple, then the other.
I shivered and twined my fingers in his thick golden-brown 
curls as his kisses passed lower down my belly. When he ran 
his fingers underneath my waistband I gave a little 
frustrated cry and pushed my hips restlessly against him. 
My eyes flickered open to find him watching me with a rapt 
expression on his face. I touched a finger to his kiss-
reddened lips. 

"*Please,* Sam," I implored, and he returned to lie above 
me again, molding our bodies so closely that I hardly knew 
where mine ended and his began. His eyes were heavy-lidded 
with want, that knowing little half-smile on his face as he 
pressed his hips down hard against mine, fire against fire. 
I grasped his firm backside, holding him tightly to me. He 
murmured against my cheek, "Like that, me dear?"

"You know I do."

"Hmm." He pulled away, sitting back on his knees. I tried 
to rise with him, but a gentle hand against my chest 
persuaded me to lie back. I watched wordlessly as he 
unfastened my braces, then my trouser buttons, tugging 
playfully until I raised my hips to pull the fabric out of 
the way. His glance swept over my bare skin like a caress, 
but he didn't touch me, not yet. Instead he leaned close 
for another kiss, light and teasing this time, leaving me 
breathlessly yearning for more. His trousers felt 
deliciously rough against my sensitized flesh. As I arched 
against him slowly, savoring the friction, I could feel his 
breath becoming quicker, his hands on my body a little less 
steady. 

I reached between us for his shirt buttons, and managed to 
undo the first several before he shrugged the garment 
carelessly over his head, casting it aside. Then our hands 
met with the same objective: freeing him from his trousers. 
He batted my hands away and made short work of the job, 
shedding them unselfconsciously and quickly returning to 
his place between my legs. Only a few times before had we 
laid like this, skin to skin. The feel of all of him 
against me, so welcoming, so full of desire, was quickly 
becoming more than I could bear. 

"Sam," I managed. "I don't know how long..." He hushed me 
with a smoldering kiss that stole what was left of my 
reason. Then slowly, so slowly, he began to move against 
me, and I locked my legs around his, finding our rhythm. 
His eyes never left my face. I let mine flutter closed as a 
blinding rush of sensation overwhelmed me, too soon, and 
burst in a heated surge between us. Sam gripped my hips, 
restraining himself till I lay back, spent, then in the 
next moment thrust hard and swift against me and erupted 
with a soft cry. He buried his face in my neck and we lay 
quietly for a long while as breath returned and trembling 
subsided.

I shifted under him, nuzzled his cheek so that he would 
look at me. His hazel eyes were bright with unshed tears, 
and something rose up and clenched my heart until I 
couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. I wrapped my arms around 
him more tightly and squeezed, and he made a sound that was 
somewhere between a laugh and a sob and hugged me just as 
hard in return.  

"I have a secret, Sam, one I've been wanting to tell you." 
He gazed at me tenderly, waiting, and my voice caught in my 
throat. "I love you, Samwise Gamgee."

A smile that outshone the vivid afternoon sun lit his face, 
and he answered, "I love you, too, Frodo, and that's no 
secret, it's a plain fact."


-end-