Title:  'Twas But a Dream of Thee
Series: Pagan Shire #5
Author: Timberwolf	
E-mail: timberwolf@frodo.com
Rating: NC-17.  *Very* NC-17.
Pairing:  Frodo/Sam
Category: Romance, angst.
Archiving: Yes, to Least Expected, Library of Moria, Whether or No. All 
others please ask.
Summary: In the course of Sam's expressing his insecurities, Frodo and 
Sam take their relationship to another level.
Disclaimer:  JRR Tolkien's and his estate, not mine.  Though they're 
certainly having a lot more fun now I've got my hands on them.  So to 
speak. ;)
Notes:  Based on, and continuing on from "Letters Over the Sea" -- many 
thanks to the original authors for letting me take their original 
premise and run with it. ;)
Thanks as always to Bron, for brainstorming this in the early days, to 
Zig for looking it over when it'd lain fallow for the better part of 
two years, and for Vands for the final beta.


                   'Twas But a Dream of Thee

                          by Timberwolf


Sam stirred in drowsy contentment at the first traces of dawn lit the 
sky, shifting slightly with a smile of reminiscence as the sand 
abrasions made themselves felt on his back, then stiffened as he 
realised he 
was alone.

Just to confirm, but not daring to open his eyes, he tentatively 
reached out with an arm.  No Frodo.

He clearly remembered the events of the previous day, and night; and he 
was sure he'd not be curled up naked except for his cloak had it not 
happened; on the other hand, he was where he'd camped before.

Had he, he wondered, dreamt it all?

He opened his eyes.  It was dark, except for the glowing embers of the 
camp fire.  All he could see were the dim shapes of the ponies.

Barely daring to draw breath lest his fears be realised, he slowly sat 
up, looked around, and called out tentatively, "Frodo?"  Then, when 
there was no answer, he climbed to his feet, drew a deep breath and 
called 
out louder, his voice trembling, *"Frodo?"*

"Here!" came the prompt answer from the bushes off to his right.

Sam sagged to the sand in his relief, his trembling hands pulling the 
cloak around him.  Frodo found him there, huddled close to the fire, 
shaking all over.

"Sam, what is it?" he asked, taking him in his arms, drawing a corner 
of the cloak away, then wrapping it around them both.  "Are you cold?"

Sam, despite the fact that his teeth were chattering, shook his head.

"You don't *feel* cold," said Frodo, his hands sliding over Sam's skin.  
"But you're -- oh, Sam," he said as Sam recovered enough to clutch at 
him desperately.  "Didn't you know where I was?"

"Thought I'd dreamt it all," he whispered into Frodo's shoulder as 
Frodo drew him close.  "Woke up and thought I'd dreamt and we were 
still 
separate -- "

"Oh, my dearest," sighed Frodo, hugging him, if possible, even closer, 
one hand stroking his curls.  "My poor dearest.  I'm still here.  Shh.  
I'm still here."

"This is ridiculous," gasped Sam.  "I'm fine all these years, and *now* 
you can't be out of my sight?"

"No, it makes sense," Frodo reassured him, rocking him gently.  
"Perfect sense.  You said you were fine while I was over Sea?"

"Well, I acted fine," Sam said, beginning to see where this was going.  
"But I missed you like anything.  And the longer it got the worse it 
got."

"And you never said a word to anyone about it?"

Sam shook his head.  "Only to you in those letters."

Frodo nodded.  "Well, there's your answer.  You've kept it all in, or 
mostly in, for seven years -- now I'm back, of *course* it's going to 
come out."

"But -- but I should be *joyous*, not -- "

"And who gave me a lecture on keeping things to myself?" said Frodo to 
the surrounding trees.

"But -- "

"Don't you think the same applies to you, dear Sam?" said Frodo 
tenderly.

"Ah," said Sam.  "But why aren't *you* falling apart?"

"I don't know," said Frodo slowly.  "Perhaps because I'm looking after 
you.  Perhaps because," he continued as Sam lifted his head and opened 
his mouth to protest, "because I'm right where I want to be.  And I am 
whole.  For the first time in a long time, I am whole."

"So am I, Frodo," said Sam, accepting Frodo's offered kiss eagerly.  
"So am I.  Ah, Frodo..." he sighed, wrapping himself even more tightly 
around Frodo.

"I did wake you up," said Frodo, running a hand down Sam's back and 
parting his legs to allow Sam to snuggle even closer.

"Hmm?" said Sam, his lips and attention occupied exploring the skin of 
Frodo's neck.

"I said," continued Frodo dreamily, his head tipping back, gasping as 
Sam's lips reached a particularly sensitive spot, "I *did* wake you up.  
I shook you and -- oh -- said I had to find a bush and -- oh, *Sam* -- 
you said 'mhm' and rolled -- oh! -- over and I'm sorry, Sam, I thought 
I *had* -- mmm, Sam, *yes* -- woken you... "

"Maybe," Sam smiled down at him, tipping him onto his back and 
following him down, "I should -- mmm -- lie on top -- oh, that's nice -
- of you 
so you have to -- mm, you feel so good -- tip me off?"

"That would suit me just fine," Frodo smiled up at him, then gasped and 
wrapped his arms around Sam as Sam set to work on him in earnest. Lying 
back, too overwhelmed to do more than respond to Sam's increasingly 
demanding caresses, his eyes suddenly popped open at a particular 
movement 
from Sam.  "Sam -- just where were you proposing to *put* that?"

Sam, coming to himself and realising just what he was doing, chuckled.  
"Sorry -- habit.  I'll -- " He moved and Frodo's eyes widened at the 
resulting sensation.

"No don't," he said hurriedly.  "Oh, my.  What *was* that?"

"I think they were your -- "

"Oh," said Frodo realising.

"Well, I never thought of  -- " Sam floundered.  "-- well, lasses don't 
-- "

"It's all right," said Frodo gently, bringing his hand up to stroke his 
cheek.  "Try it again."

Sam did so, and *both* hobbits' eyes widened at the resulting 
sensations.

"Oh my," said Sam, continuing his movements.  "But it don't pinch 
them?" he asked anxiously.

"If it does," said Frodo, laughing but with eyes glittering with 
desire, "you'll be the first to know -- oh, *yes,"* he said as Sam 
pressed 
home again, his face dropping to kiss and lick Frodo's bare chest.  
"But 
I can't kiss you from here," he lamented.

"That's all right," Sam murmured, "do it later."

Frodo laughed, arching against Sam's thrusting, spreading his legs to 
allow for greater access until, at one particularly hard lunge, Frodo 
sucked in a breath and clutched at Sam.

"What?" said Sam panicked.  "What'd I do?"

"I-don't-know," gasped Frodo, panting, "but *don't* stop -- *move,* 
Sam!" he begged, grasping Sam by the buttocks and pulling him in, hard.

That was too much for Sam.  Without any semblance of restraint, he 
ground himself against Frodo, a dim corner of his mind registering that 
Frodo, if his writhing and his gasps of passion and his cries of 
encouragement were any judge, was with him all the way.

Their eruption was more spectacular than any either of them had 
previously experienced, and before Sam had shuddered to a halt, Frodo 
had 
pulled him up and was kissing him with an intensity that made Sam's 
toes 
curl and his nether regions twitch.

"What did you just *do* to me?" Frodo gasped once he'd recovered enough 
breath to speak.

"No idea," said Sam, wide-eyed.  "I've never seen nowt like that 
before."

"Well can you -- ?"

"Of course," said Sam, reluctantly slipping off, then moving downwards, 
his lips kissing down Frodo's belly, over the smeared semen they had 
spread there.

"I didn't mean *right now* necessarily," said Frodo, nevertheless 
sighing and stretching under Sam's caresses.

"Ah, but now I'm curious," Sam smiled up at him, then, parting Frodo's 
legs, felt around.  "Let's see, here it was, behind -- " A gasp 
interrupted him.  "That's it?"

"That's it," Frodo confirmed, dazed-eyed.  "Where did you -- ?"

"Behind your -- " Sam explained, laying a finger along the spot, then 
pressing in.  Frodo sucked in a breath, then gulped.

"You all right?" Sam asked, concerned.

"I nearly got hard again," Frodo explained.  "And I thought I was done 
for the day."

"Ah," said Sam, massaging the area, enjoying the resulting twitches.

"Does it -- work on you -- I wonder?" Frodo got out with some 
difficulty.

"Let's get you hard, and we'll see," Sam smiled.

"Sam, you're *killing* me," Frodo gasped.

"Does it hurt?" said Sam, alarmed.

"Feels so *good* it hurts," Frodo explained.

"Ah," said Sam, nuzzling Frodo's hip, his fingers reducing him to 
writhing, gasping, cursing incoherence until Frodo's shaft lay erect 
against 
his stomach, not two inches from Sam's nose.  He gave it a friendly 
nudge, then rolled on his back, grinning as Frodo made no move to 
reciprocate.  "What?  Don't *I* get a turn?" he laughed.

Frodo opened one eye. "Give me a moment to recover -- after *that,"* he 
said firmly.  Sam snickered, then rolled against Frodo, nuzzling him 
until Frodo stirred and, turning sideways, kissed down his body until 
his 
cheek was resting on the top of Sam's thigh, his hands exploring Sam's 
groin.  "Around here, wasn't it?" he asked, his hands cradling Sam's 
sac in one hand.

"Frodo -- that feels wonderful -- but it was -- behind," Sam protested.

"I know," said Frodo, kissing his hip.  "But that feels so nice from 
this end.  I'll remember that," he reassured Sam, his fingers probing 
the 
soft skin behind.

He jerked back, startled, as Sam came fully erect and ejaculated, 
almost simultaneously. "Sam!  Are you all right?" he asked his friend, 
who 
was lying there, gasping, eyes wide, totally limp.

"Now -- who's --- killing -- who?" Sam asked, once he'd recovered the 
powers of speech.

"Did I press too hard?" Frodo enquired, concerned.

Sam shook his head.  "What -- *was* that?" he enquired.

"I have no idea," said Frodo.  "You're the experienced one here, 
remember?"

"Never -- tried nowt like *that* before," Sam explained, glancing down 
as a very warm something pressed into his thigh.  "Oh my.  I left you 
hanging."

"I'll take care of it," Frodo reassured him.

"Another time," Sam said, making Frodo glance up at him and smile.  "I 
want to try that on *you."*

"You already did," said Frodo.

"I meant *fingers,"* said Sam firmly, tugging him up.  "Come on.  Up 
where I can reach you.  And see."

"Oh," said Frodo, visibly shivering at the possibility.  "Here?" he 
asked.

"That's fine," said Sam, his fingers probing.  "How's that?"

Frodo sucked in a breath, then nodded.

"Too hard?" asked Sam, pressing more firmly.

Frodo, beyond speech, shook his head.

"Too -- " Sam started to ask, pressing more firmly again, then laughing 
in delight as Frodo climaxed in spectacular fashion.  He caught him, 
cradling him against his chest as Frodo toppled like a felled tree, 
kissing him on the lips as he tried to manhandle his dead weight.

As Frodo recovered enough to open his eyes, he beheld Sam's amused 
countenance, his hair sparkling in the firelight.  "Oh dear.  Did I get 
you?"

"And anything else within range," Sam confirmed, kissing him deeply.

Frodo returned the kiss eagerly, then, when they came up for air, said, 
"I think a wash is in order." Then, seeing Sam's eyes gleam at the 
possibilities, laughed, "Sam!  I can't possibly recover *this* soon."

"So?" replied Sam, his eyes twinkling.  "We'll have a lot of fun 
trying."

Frodo burst out laughing, but got to his feet and hauled Sam after him 
with a kiss.  "Come on, then."

Sam squeezed his hand, his eyes running over Frodo's body in what 
remained of the firelight in a way that made Frodo shiver with delight.

END