Fic: Sunburnt Author: carolina30363 (carolina30363@fastwebnet.it) Pairing: F/S Rating :Nc17 Disclaimer: Not mine Credit: Thank to Slip, Aina, Shoe and Romy Summary: Frodo attempts to emulate his sunkissed gardener; sunburn and silliness ensues! Other: Frodo thoughts are between ** Peering through the window of his study, half hidden by the curtains Frodo Baggins, the new Master of Bag End, sighed. He was looking, as usual, at his young gardener Samwise Gamgee, who was working, on his knees, with his hands, in the earth. Since it was a very warm summer morning, Sam had removed his shirt and Frodo couldn't help but stare at his broad chest, shining, damp with sweat, in the sun light. The young hobbit had a very strong well-built body. He was large boned and muscular in fact for a hobbit and above all...above all very, very brown. Frodo knew that he wasn't the only one who loved the Gamgee's youngest son, he had a rival...the sun. The sun that liked to touch the lad's skin and to give him the most beautiful colour Frodo had ever seen in his bachelor life. Sam's skin was like dark gold, with a deep bronzed healthy tan that made Frodo's mouth water. He wanted to touch Sam, too. He needed to feel the gardener's skin under his fingertips, he needed that. He closed his firsts tight in order to prevent himself from opening the window and shouting his longing to the sun kissed lad whose gilded curls were dancing in the sunlight before his very eyes. Frodo sat on the sofa staring gloomily at his reflection in the mirror and sighed. He knew he was not an ordinary hobbit with his wide blue eyes and his skinny body but the thing he hated most of his strange look was his white creamy, pale skin. It was white like a fish belly or the cold winter snow. How would a warm blooded, sunny skinned hobbit want an unhealthy pale old bachelor? How could he? Who would? For the first time in his lonely life Frodo was in love. It was unfair if he had to give up the possibility of happiness simply because of his awful appearance! Yes, unfair...but...Frodo suddenly stood and smiled. He couldn't change his eye colour and he certainly couldn't gain weight in a day but... He could change his skin! He could be less pale, more healthy looking, more similar to the beautiful Sam. He could get a tan! Grinning, Frodo ran to his bedroom to get the blanket they used for picnics and went up the hill. Spreading the cloth in a clearing, Frodo removed his shirt and lay down. In the drowsy heat of the midday sun, in just a few minutes he was asleep. The first thing that Frodo Baggins realized when he finally awakened, was that there had been many years since he had taken a nap as long and deep as that one. The second thing he realized was that he needed to put on his shirt, because it was not proper for a gentlehobbit like himself (he smiled reminded of the Gaffer's words), to walk along the streets half-naked like a border hobbit from Bree. The third realization was that that his chest was tingling. So he carelessly tried to rub it and he screamed in pain! Frodo looked down. The skin on his chest was as red as a ripe strawberry! And it was swollen, as were his arms and his face! What had he done? Frodo groaned. He had not been so stupid since he was a tweenager: falling asleep under the hot summer sun for hours! He must get back to Bag End, to hide himself inside in the dark, so no one would see the beet red old bachelor. But when he started to stand, he found, to his horror that his feet were burnt, too! There was no way for him to walk down the hill without being in unbearable pain. Frodo tried to hop a few steps, but the resulting pain brought him to his knees. It would take him hours to crawl to Bag End and Sam would send out a search party before he could make it back and then the whole row would know that the new squire was an idiot. Frodo realized that he had to call the last hobbit he wanted to be seen by at that moment, the last hobbit he wanted to see his bright red painfully burned chest: his gardener, his friend, his secret crush, the object of his affection, Samwise Gamgee. Swallowing his pride and trying ineffectively to cover himself with the shirt, and wincing from the nearly unbearable pain, the black haired hobbit called for Sam to help. When the gardener saw the condition his Master was in he couldn't but yelp at his plight, "Sir, you are in a awful state! Begging your pardon, but your skin is pink and you are sweating." Frodo while looking at his reddened feet, interrupted him to ask in a very small and ashamed voice, "Please Sam could you get me to Bag End?" Frodo waggled a sunburned foot in the air. "I need to go home and it seems that my feet won't co-operate!" Then Frodo felt a large hand taking his elbow, the touch was kind and light, but the proximity of the young gardener was enough to ignite the blush in his cheeks and send his heart beat thrumming in his veins. Walking slowly, side by side, with Sam, the lad's strong arm around his waist, was the best and the worst experience in Frodo's life. He was in pain with every step, he was feeling weak and tired but he was also excited by the unusual closeness of Sam. When they finally reached the smial, Frodo was panting and gasping with pain and embarrassment. Sam gently led him to the sofa, saying, "I will draw a cool bath for you, sir and I will fix something for you to eat afterward and then I will..." "Sam there is no need to stay. You got me safely inside. Go home, your sisters and your Gaffer are waiting for you!" "Sir, I cannot leave you until you have eaten and we have you safe in bed!" Sam's tone was firm and efficient but Frodo risked a glance in his direction. Had Sam blushed when he had talked about putting Frodo in bed or had it been just Frodo's overexcited imagination? "Sam, please, I just need to rest and to drink a little water, then I will be fine." Frodo tried to sound determined but let a note of plaintiveness creep in to tinge his tone. Sam, with his hands on his hips, answered a bit bossily, "Really Master? You can't stand nor walk alone, how can I leave you here by yourself? Besides..." added the blonde hobbit in a smaller voice, "I want to stay with you." "Please to goodness, if I die now of sun poisoning," thought Frodo, risking a small triumphant smile. "At least, I will die a happy hobbit!" "Please Mr. Frodo, let me stay and help you." Sam's expression was so sweet and worried that Frodo couldn't help but nod. He wanted Sam to stay. He really wanted to be with him as long as was possible...even forever; but he was too ashamed, ashamed of his immature behaviour and ashamed of his ugly sunburned body. Sam did not seem to notice Frodo's reluctance; he was too busy checking the water temperature in the tub. "Your bath can't be too warm, sir, 'cause your poor skin won't bear that, and neither can it be too cold, because you're warm and sweaty and it might cause you to cramp!" "Yes Sam, I'm really hot and sweaty, and not only because of the sun," thought Frodo mournfully gazing at Sam's shapely backside, as the gardener was pouring another bucket of water into the tub. "Your bath is ready Mister Frodo." "Thank you Sam, I will call you if I need anything, " Frodo sighed dismissively, but when he tried to stand to remove his breeches, he found that he was dizzy and that he couldn't undress himself, he absolutely could not take off his garments alone. He was going to need assistance. And in spite of everything, his abused body was still very interested in Sam's help. Taking a deep breath; in order to have a normal voice, and to calm his eager body and while looking obstinately at his red and rather swollen feet, the Master of Bag End said, "Sam, I'm very sorry to ask again for your help, when you've already done so much for me...but I really can't make it into the tub alone." "Oh sir, I am always happy to help you, first let's get you out of those breeches." "Yes," thought Frodo remaining silent and grasping the hand that Sam was offering to him, "that would be for the best." Sam turned him and pushed him gently against the wall for support, then he fell to his knees in front of Frodo saying, "Here sir, I will try to do it fast sir, so you will be able to relax and have your bath!" Frodo was stunned. He looked down at the beautiful gardener kneeling before him. Did Sam know what his words and actions were doing to the older hobbit? Did he appreciate the precariousness of the situation? Here Frodo was half naked, against a wall and Sam was on his knees ready to flip open his trouser buttons! No, Sam was only eager to "help" his new employer, he was so innocent he would be horrified and repulsed by his Master naughty thoughts. Frodo sighed. Suddenly he realized that he couldn't let Sam open his breeches, Frodo couldn't let the young gardener discover his secret, and he couldn't show his need. He just could not. He had been weak and wicked. No, Frodo couldn't take advantage of this handsome hobbit like this, he was in time, he could tell Sam to stop, he could.... "Ehm Ehem...Mr Frodo?" Too late! A warm damp breath directly on his most intimate part, informed Frodo that he had been too slow and now he was exposed. Here he was naked, and hard, and directly in front of poor unsuspecting Sam's face. "I think we have a problem sir." "P...p...problem, Sam?" Frodo wished he could become invisible or disappear into a big hole in the ground. Suddenly he remembered Bilbo's ring in his pocket and tried to grab it. Vanishing into thin air would surely scare Sam half to death, but then again, he couldn't face this awful situation anymore, he could not bear to make a fool of himself yet again. Frodo had almost started to slip the ring on his index finger when, as if from a very faraway place, he heard a voice... "I think that sun has been at work on other parts of your body, too sir!" Sam's voice was soft and sensual. "W...wh...what?" Could Sam be serious? "But don't worry, Mister Frodo! I can help you with that, too!" Was this a dream, or a nightmare, or maybe his young, innocent gardener was teasing him? With his mind unclear, because of the pain from his sunburn and the distress of his state of physical need, Frodo tried desperately to find a question, a phrase, a word; something, anything that could help him discover Sam's intentions...but he opened his mouth at that very moment in which Sam decided to take the situation, and him, in hand. Through a stupendous wave of shivered delight, Frodo heard a husky voice say, "Mister Frodo, I promise you, this will be fast, but not painful." It would be safe to say that Frodo thought that he would never feel a more intense pleasure than the one created by Sam's warm calloused gardener's hand closing around his arousal, that is, until he felt the first lick. "Ghu." *'Very good Frodo, is "Ghu" all you can say, in this happiest, and most wonderful moment in your life? Sweet Eru, you are a gentlehobbit and a scholar, communicate!'* Frodo scolded himself mentally, while he fought not to move his hips more than he already had. "Saaaammm, ghu!"* 'Oh good, at least he was lucky his only love was named something simple and not something more complicated, like Aurelia Tutwinkle because obviously his lover's lips just there, had fried his brain. Yes, his mind was now fried mush and this condition was all the lovely, bewitching, inestimable Sam's fault.'* "Were you trying to tell me something, sir? Do you need anything at all, Mr. Frodo?" asked Sam only barely interrupting his long, languorous licks. Frodo forced his eyes to open and looked to see that Samwise was smiling up at him, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. It was an expression, the likes of which, Frodo had never before seen on the sweet young face. He must be teasing me! "Sam.." *'Ah, that was better thought Frodo, 'I'm improving my ability to speak while the most beautiful gardener in the Shire is tending me! That will come in very useful, if I, in fact, survive his technique.'* "I n-need...," Frodo recollected his purpose. He wanted to say that he needed to be sure that Sam wasn't just doing this to make him feel better, to make him forget his sunburn. Or most horrible of all, because he thought he had to do it! Frodo struggled mightily to voice his thought, but he couldn't go on, because he suddenly felt his hardness engulfed in a damp warmth unlike anything he had ever experienced. *'Ungh. Just this. Please don't stop, don't ever stop, love, yes, that is what I need. This is my dream come true, you are my dream come true. Go on, go on. Please, love, I feel you. I feel your lips around me, I feel your tongue licking my tip.. I feel your left hand on my thigh.. I feel you, just you, all of you. I'm happy and I'm close... so close.I want.I need to. I'm ready to... I'm.'* Suddenly the warmth was gone and Frodo, feeling dizzy and neglected was almost lost. He pried open his eyes, prepared to beg, but when he saw his beautiful gardener's eyes... his mind was clear again and he was sure, absolutely sure, that this happiest moment in his life, was just perfect, because, reflected in Sam's eyes, was the same love that had melted his own heart. Smiling and crying at once, Frodo opened his arms and went to hug his true love tight. "Yeeeeeep!" The sunburn fire blazed through his chest, a lightning stroke of pain, that almost caused Frodo to faint and Sam, startled, released him abruptly. "Mr. Frodo, sir, I'm so sorry!" Sam was horrified and worried and became young, shy Sam again. "Sam, no! I forgot I was sunburned!" Sam, relieved, smiled and took Frodo by the hand, "Sir, you really need your bath, now." And he led the older hobbit to the bathtub. Frodo found himself seated on the edge of the tub, naked and aroused and he was miserable again.* 'Oh, I am in a terrible state. I need to get into the tub and take care of my self.*' Perched where he was, trying to think about anything but his condition was really difficult, especially since Sam had, in the meantime, declared that it was too hot in the bathing room and had removed his shirt and was now walking back and forth collecting supplies for his master's bath. "What kind of oil do you prefer sir?" *"Oil????"* "Bilbo's, not mine - don't use!" Frodo shook his head stiffly. "I think this time we will need it.." *"Oh Lady"* "You skin is irritated and tender... and um...red and swollen..." *"Stop it. Stop it stopit stopit."* Frodo gripped the tub edge hard and tried to concentrate on the elvish alphabet "I will rub you with it, sir." *"Please yes, oh please"!* "It will feel good on your tender places." *"Oh yes, I can bet on that!"* Very carefully, Sam eased his Master into the cool water. Then he took a blue bottle and poured a small amount of liquid on his palm, and slowly, very slowly he began gently stroking the chamomile balm on Frodo's sunburned chest. "I won't be able to bear it!" Frodo's skin hurt, but his heart was beating so fast he was afraid Sam could feel it. "Does this feel good, sir?" Sam asked his question then brushed Frodo's right nipple. It thrummed erect and was another proof of his needful state, as if further evidence was needed. "Are you speaking in riddles?" This was the question, Frodo would have asked, if Sam had not chosen that moment to stop the massage and fumble with his own breeches buttons! All thoughts died, as Frodo's eyes became transfixed on Sam's fingers. "Sir, I think that I will be able to take better care of you if I get into the bath," Sam removed his breeches folding them neatly and turning to place them on the bench. "I will have a better angle then to reach any part of you!" Sam's splendid naked buttocks were at eye level, perfectly matched twin globes of the palest skin that had never seen the sun, beautifully rounded, full and firm and right there, a hand's reach away. "Come on Frodo I think you can articulate a question, but what do you want to ask? Can you say it? What do you really want?" The twin globes were hypnotic, Frodo started to reach out with one shaking hand. Then Sam turned, and was completely naked in front of him and Frodo scratched his nose instead. Naked and aroused...and he was stunning...and beautiful, this, his sun-bronzed gardener with the bits, the beautiful bits that even the glorious sun had not touched, and ... then he was in the tub with Frodo! Words. His specialty. He could do this! Frodo opened his mouth and licked his lips and his voice came out a bit husky and hoarse, but he definately spoke aloud, "May I touch you, Sam?" *"Good question Frodo!"* Sam did not answer the other hobbit's question in words. Instead, he grabbed Frodo's hand with his own and placed it on his breastbone, using it to stroke his own chest lightly. Then he choked, "Yes sir, you may touch me. Please, you must touch me!" Frodo was breathing hard -he had never felt Sam's beautiful sun browned skin under his touch and he found it intoxicating. The younger hobbit kept his master's hand moving, massaging until their fingers brushed his nipples and Sam moaned, "Yes, dear Master, I love the feel of your hands on me, please, I want your touch...more..." Frodo's hand landed on Sam's soft belly, causing them both to inhale sharply. This was really happening -it was not a dream. He was in a bathtub, naked with his sweet and wonderful Samwise, equally as naked, kneeling before him. And this lovely lad was desirous of being touched, wanted to be touched, needed to be touched by Frodo's own hand! Frodo's arousal reached another level, a level he hadn't known existed. And when he finally touched Sam's throbbing hardness, Frodo thought he would lose control in that very moment because of the intensity of the emotion he was feeling -not only of lust (even if he had never lusted after anyone or anything in such a powerful way in his entire life), but of love, happiness and completion. Frodo was looking intensely at the younger hobbit through eyes deep with want. He was going to make love with Sam, he was going to have his love, he was going to be whole, but... but... *'Wait a minute. Is Sam doing this for love? Is he in love with me? Is he sharing my feelings? Or is he doing this as an indulgence for his master out of a sense of loyalty and duty?' Frodo couldn't give himself to Sam without being sure that Sam loved him, too. It wasn't fair to either of them, Frodo had to be sure, he just had to know.* *'Yes -it would be easier, though, if I could articulate a phrase'* thought Frodo dryly, he looked at Sam again, his Sam who was panting in anticipation of Frodo's touch on his most tender of parts. "Sam..." murmured Frodo with a very small voice, but Sam was lost and seemed not to hear him. "Sam," Frodo tried again a little louder but Sam didn't answered him that time either. He was so close, so very close... "Sam!!!!!" Frodo raised his voice sharply and the gardener startled from his concentration, lost his grip on the tub border and fell on Frodo who yelped in pain. Sam got up quickly, splashing the entire cozy bathroom with water, "W- what happened, sir?" asked Sam, a little shaken and annoyed. "I- I had a question for you?" Sam was literally so astonished he opened his mouth three times before answering: "A question, yes sir, uhm...a question, and just to be sure, sir... it c-c-c-couldn't wait?" Not daring to gaze at Sam, Frodo looked instead at the water on the tiled floor, "No, uhm, ... I needed to know, if you...if you wanted me..." 'in the same way I want you', he was going to add but Sam interrupted him. "What? Beggin' your pardon, sir, but it seems to me that it was quite obvious I wanted you!" Sam gestured to his full arousal with a look of confusion and dismay on his face. Frodo was struggling mightily to say the appropriate words, but he was so frightened. He was opening his heart and that was much more difficult than offering his body. And to further complicate things; his mind, nor his tongue seemed to want to work properly that day. "I needed to know if you really wanted to make love with me!" Frodo tried again. "Sir maybe it is not proper for me to say so, but couldn't you see I really wanted to make love to you?" "Sam...please, I just needed to be sure that you did not want to ... just, to well...tup me, ... to have a tumble! Because, you see...because for me ...' Frodo found he could not meet Sam's eyes, so he closed his own in misery. *Why was this so difficult?* This time Sam did not answer at all, but Frodo could hear that he was sitting again in the tub, and he felt a touch on his cheek, a touch so light that it did not hurt his sunburned skin. "Look at me," Sam said in a husky voice and as if hypnotized, Frodo did. "I'm glad you fell asleep and got sunburnt, really glad, because seeing you hurt and needy gave me the courage to touch you. I tried so hard not to need to do that, for so long. I was afraid you would see how much I wanted to touch you, and it not proper and all and you would send me away. But I wanted that touch more than anything. Then you were in pain, and I didn't think about what was proper or not and you seemed to want me to touch you, too and when I felt your beautiful soft skin, sir, I couldn't stop. I wanted to tell you then, that I loved you, but how could I, the Gaffer's youngest son, how could I dare to think that you would share your love with me? "And when I saw you aroused, I thought, 'be happy Sam -you, at least, will get the chance to touch him now', and I knew that my touch would not be unwelcome!" Eyes wide, Frodo started to protest, but Sam laid a finger on his master's perfect lips, silently begging him to let him talk a little more. "I don't deserve you, you are the kindest, wisest and most beautiful hobbit who has ever been born and I'm but a plain gardener...but yes, Frodo, if I can call you so just this once, where no one but me and you can know that I am not being proper -my Frodo, yes, I wanted to tup you, yes, I wanted a tumble. I wanted a thousand tumbles! More than I ever wanted anything in my life, above all, I wanted to make love to you! But in all my nights, alone in my in my bed, down on Bagshot Row, I never dreamed my Mr. Frodo would love me back!" Frodo felt a first tear on his cheek and after that another and another and then Sam's eyes threaten to overflow, too. "Please, Sam, let's do it," Frodo whispered, "love me, Sam!" "Yes, Frodo!" answered the young golden haired gardener. And Frodo felt Sam lips on his own, felt his tongue asking entrance and exploring his mouth slowly, then with his cheeks and his eyes brighter than ever, breathing hard and trembling; Sam picked up the chamomile oil bottle again and asked his Master a silent question. Frodo immediately understood, and somewhere deep inside him something tightened in expectation and he dipped his head in a slight nod. Sam took him gently by the hips, "My love, I think this way will be easier..." and pulled Frodo into his lap, his firm calloused hand cupping Frodo's buttocks, then slipping into his crevice to prepare him slowly, never breaking their eye contact. Frodo was looking intensely at the younger hobbit, his eyes dark with want. He was going to make love with his beautiful Sam, he was going to have his love for his own. They were going to be whole. Frodo closed his eyes and he felt Sam's lips lightly on his neck, then the slight press of his teeth and Frodo gasped with pleasure. Sam's warm tongue flicked over his nipples, after which the young gardener blew a breath of cool air over the moistness making the hobbit in his lap shiver. Frodo groaned in need, he was harder than ever and he looked intensely into his only love's eyes, as Sam slowly and carefully entered him. After the stretch, he felt a calloused hand on his length. Sam was stroking him slowly, but Frodo needed more and murmured: "Now..." and began trying to move. Slowly, at first, then a little bit faster, and faster and after that, with a crazy rhythm. He was feeling his beautiful Sam, his hot and throbbing hardness buried deep inside him, his powerful thrusts, his moans, and his desire. When he peaked, Frodo abandoned himself, falling into Sam's eyes and there was no pain in his sunburn, there was only Sam, and joy. That night, lying in his bed, Frodo did not feel alone, even though his love was not next to him, but in his home down the Row. And he was sure he would never have to feel lonely, ever again.