Title: Just for Educational Purposes
Author: Tigerlily Grubb
Author's Email: hobbitpilesaregreat@yahoo.com
Pairings: Sam/Merry
Rating: R
Summary: Sam really wants to get his hands on Frodo, and Merry has an idea.
Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were, I just don't like to dwell on it, okay?!
Written: 17 October 2004

 Sam really couldn't believe he'd gotten himself into this mess. Being pulled by Merry 
Brandybuck into his bedroom was hardly something he'd planned on that morning. But, 
with Merry having such a grip on his wrist and Mr. Pippin not far behind, he realized 
there was no turning back. The door safely shut and locked, he was pulled to the bed with 
Merry, obviously expected to sit down. He did so hesitantly and sank down into the 
unexpectedly soft down mattress.

 "Really, Sam..." Merry chided at his expression of surprise, "If you plan on laying with 
my cousin, you'd better not let something so simple as a mattress surprise you."

 Sam blushed at the bluntness of the comment, stealing a look in Pippin's direction. Pippin 
had comfortably settled into a chair several feet away, looking at them almost studiously. 
Merry laughed, bringing Sam back to the matter at hand, and neatly folded his legs in 
front of him.

 "Now," he said matter-of-factly, "First of all - you've kissed a lass before, right?" Sam 
nodded deftly - so far, so good. "Have you ever kissed a lad before?"

 Sam thought for a moment. "No, sir, can't say I have."

 "Well," Merry grinned, looking sidelong at Pippin, "Frodo's more like a lass anyway." 
Pippin snickered, and Merry turned his attentions back to Sam. "So. Kiss me like you 
would kiss Frodo."

 "Well, beggin' you pardon, sir, but... I don't think I can do that.

 Merry stared dumbly at him. "Why not?"

 "Because," Sam answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're not 
Mr. Frodo."

 Merry blinked and sighed exasperatedly, then grabbed Sam's face and covered his mouth 
with his own. He waited until Sam's initial shock was over before moving his lips gently 
and, finally feeling the pressure returned by Sam, slowly parted his lips. Sam's tongue was 
pliant under his touch, and after a few seconds he pulled back.

 "All right," he said, "that was good. But you absolutely *must* do *something* with your 
hands this time."

 "You have wonderful hands, Sam," Pippin piped in. "How could Frodo ever resist 
them?"

 "*Exactly*," Merry agreed as Sam nodded. "Now. Try it again."

 Sam, with only a small hesitation, kissed Merry as he had before, this time raising his 
hands to Merry's sides.

 When he'd broken away, Merry said, "Better. But, still, you have to put more movement 
into it. Like this." He pulled Sam to him by his shirtfront and put lips to lips, one hand 
sliding over Sam's shoulder and another in his curls. Raised up on his knees he leaned 
against Sam, tilting his face upward for easier access. This time when he pulled away, 
Sam was plenty visibly flustered. "Can you do that?"

 Sam shrugged. "Reckon I can try," he mumbled and, without so much as a pause, did as 
he'd been shown, pulling Merry close and wrapping his arms around him, hands on his 
back. He felt Merry's arms instinctively go around his neck and let them rest there before 
at last breaking the kiss.

 "Beautiful," Merry managed, and cleared his throat. "Onto lesson two." Sam found 
himself pulled overtop of Merry, hands quickly catching himself on the sides of Merry's 
head. "Now," Merry asked, "can you do it all lying down?"

 "Well, sir, I don't see as how it makes any difference, beggin' your pardon--"

 "Takes more coordination," Pippin offered from his chair.

 Sam switched his gaze back and forth between the two of them, biting his lip, before 
Merry finally sighed. "Sam, Sam, Sam..." He pulled Sam's mouth down to his and 
smoothly flipped them over, lifting his face a few inches away. "You have to relax," he 
told Sam, planting a kiss on his nose. "Now." He sat back on his haunches, straddling 
Sam's hips, grinning for all he was worth. "Strip me."

 Sam raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Merry..."

 "Educational purposes, Sam," Merry assured him. "It's all right." As if in accentuation of 
that fact he picked up Sam's hand, putting it on his shirt buttons.

 Sighing, Sam sat up, face a mere inch from Merry's, looking him in the eye. With a 
roguish smile Merry wriggled languidly against Sam, causing him to momentarily gasp, a 
shiver stealing its way up his spine. But, a moment later, he grinned back at Merry, just as 
mischievously. He unhooked Merry's top button and quickly fastened his mouth to 
Merry's neck, getting a light moan in return as he slid his tongue across the skin. "Like 
that, do you?" he pulled back long enough to say before biting lightly in the same spot.

 Merry let out a nervous laugh in response. "Is that a bit of cheek I hear, Sam Gamgee?"

 "No more'n you're givin' me, Mr. Merry, I'm sure," Sam murmured. It was true that the 
gaffer would have had his hide for that remark, but frankly, the gaffer's opinion was the 
last thing on Sam's mind. Reaching the last of the buttons, he pulled his mouth away from 
Merry's collarbone.

 "Well." Merry removed himself from Sam's lap. "He'll certainly enjoy *that*. My only 
suggestion is to go slower.

 "...Slower?"

 Merry nodded. "Like this." He went back to straddling Sam, and put his fingers on Sam's 
shirtfront. "Look into his eyes," he told him, doing as he himself was instructing. "Let him 
know you want it, even without saying anything." He undid the first button and, slowly, 
eyes still on Sam's, brought his face to Sam's collar. He ran his bottom lip around the 
sensitive skin there before finally letting his mouth explore along the collarbone, tongue 
creeping out to taste. "Make him *beg* for it," he continued, steadily undoing more 
buttons until at last he was done. "Makes it all the more enjoyable."

 Breathing even more heavily, having gotten the full effect of Merry's ministrations, Sam 
swallowed and nodded. "I'm sure you'll have no problem with the next part..."

 "You should probably show him all of it anyway, Merry," Pippin cheerfully suggested. 
"Wouldn’t want him to forget anything." He grinned impishly at the two underdressed 
hobbits, nearly in the same condition in which they themselves were.

 Merry looked at Sam, as if once more asking his opinion and, receiving a nod, continued. 
"Don't hold yourself back," he told Sam, sliding hands up his chest. "Put your hands 
everywhere you have the chance." Hands slid over Sam's shoulders. "Take every 
opportunity you possibly can." Shirt slipping down, breathing suddenly more difficult. 
"And  take your time doing it." He pulled his hands away and said softly, "Now... you 
try."

 Sam did as he was told, searching Merry's eyes for reaction while his hands smoothed 
over the soft skin of shoulders, neck and back. When the shirt had been discarded Merry's 
thoughtful expression turned into a playful smile. "Here's the fun part," he said,  hands 
trailing down to Sam's waistband. Sam jumped a bit at the initial contact with his skin *so 
close*, but kept his gaze steady on Merry's, just as sure and attentive as he'd ever been. "It 
might be a bit tricky in the dark," Merry continued, "but try not to fumble." He resumed 
the task of unbuttoning the breeches, fingers moving deftly, obviously practiced. Sam let 
out a relieved sigh when his aching flesh was finally released, and Merry looked down, 
raising his eyebrows. "No problems there," he mumbled, looking back up to Sam's face, 
and cleared his throat. "Your turn."

 Taking a deep breath, Sam, surprisingly unfalteringly, got to work on Merry's trousers, 
and soon had them undone. "Impressive," Merry remarked and, smirking, added, "On 
both accounts." Sam, blushing a bit, nervously scratched at the hair behind his ear, unsure 
of how to respond. Saving him the trouble of doing so, Merry asked, "Care for one last bit 
of practice?"

 Slightly unsure, Sam asked unsteadily, "Well, sir... what did you have in mind?" He then 
groaned deliciously, question answered by Merry's hand closing around him. Biting his 
lip, he nodded, eyelids fluttering at Merry's fingers suddenly moving, tightening.

 Merry kept his eyes on Sam's, feeling his own breath coming shorter, thinking now less 
about what Frodo liked and focusing more on Sam. He watched the reactions and noted 
that the slower he went, and holding a little tighter, the more Sam seemed to enjoy it. He'd 
definitely have to let Frodo in on that.

 Sam made a disappointed sound, something between a moan and a whimper, when Merry 
suddenly let go. He looked, silently questioning, at him, protesting with only his eyes. 
"Last bit of the lesson." Putting a hand on Sam's chest, Merry eased him onto his back. 
Seconds later, Sam's knuckles were turning white, grasping the sheets while Merry's 
tongue wound around his shaft, creating the most surreal sensations he'd ever felt. It 
wasn't long before he felt himself being brought to the brink, and, with effort, finally got 
out the half-warning "C-can't... I'm... Almost..." At that, understanding, Merry took him in 
as far as he could, and with a near-sobbing moan, Sam came.

 His thoughts returned after a moment of watching the room spin, even behind his closed 
eyelids, and, with nothing but an eyebrow raised at Merry he set about returning the favor. 
All the while Merry coached him along between gasps; "Slower... he likes it slow," and 
"More tongue, Sam, more tongue... Mmm, like that...good..." After a short time Sam had 
gotten the hang of it and, despite his best efforts at control, Merry couldn't last any longer.

 Once the waves of shivers traveling through his body were over, Merry collapsed onto 
the rumpled bedsheets, followed by Sam collapsing beside him, both staring up at the 
ceiling breathlessly. "That was..." Merry searched for a word that would fit.

 "...Amazing?" Pippin squeaked, eyes wide and heart racing. Sam and Merry both turned 
heads to their previously forgotten audience, and Merry grinned, looking once more back 
at Sam.

 "Do that to Frodo," he promised, "and you'll have *nothing* to worry about. He buttoned 
up his pants and Sam followed suit, going through everything carefully in his mind. 
"Well. It's been quite the educational day for you, hasn't it, Sam?" Merry remarked as 
they stood up, collecting themselves and their clothes.

 "It has, that, Mr. Merry. And I'll not be forgettin' it any time soon, if I can help it."

 "You know, Sam," Merry placed a hand on Sam's shoulder as they walked to the 
bedroom door, that signature gleam of mischief in his eye. "If you ever need any sort of... 
*reminding*... don't hesitate to ask."

 Sam rolled his eyes. "Of course, Mr. Merry," he laughed and opened the door. "Wish me 
luck?"

 "You don't need luck. You have my skill." He gently prodded Sam out the door. "Now 
go, before I keep you for myself." Without another word, Sam grinned and turned away, 
off in search of Frodo.

 Upon shutting the door Merry turned to find himself face-to-face with Pippin. "Well. I 
hope you're not *too* tired, Merry."

 "Oh?" Merry replied with exaggerated mock innocence. "And why's that?"

 "Because." Pippin directed Merry's eyes down. "Somebody has to take care of *this*."