Doing What They're Told by Lbilover

Written in 2013 for the word of the day 'wight'. 

He wasn't supposed to be noticing these things, certainly not after such a terrifying experience as he'd just had in the barrow. But Tom had told them to run naked on the grass in the sun and could he help it if his eye was taken by a certain part of Sam's anatomy that was now on full and glorious display? He'd heard the rumours circulating at home, of course, and he'd naturally wondered if they were true. It wasn't until that evening at Crickhollow when he, Sam and Pippin had shared the bathing chamber that he'd gotten verification, though not easily, for Sam had blushed when he caught Frodo looking, quickly climbed in the tub and sunk below the froth of suds. The brief glimpse hadn't satisfied Frodo, not by a long shot; it had only left him craving another longer look. And now that he was being given an eyeful of what hung thick and pendulous between Sam's muscular, hair-roughened thighs, craving turned into a greed that put his mushroom-scrumping days to shame.

Merry and Pippin cast themselves down on the soft turf and began to wrestle and tickle each other, with visible effect. Frodo saw Sam watching them, blushing again but undeniably curious. His stalwart gardener showed signs of being affected by the horseplay, too, and kept casting Frodo covert glances on the sly. Well, that was enough to complete the work that Sam had started months ago, all unknowing.

'Sam, let's leave them to it, shall we?' Frodo asked, holding out his hand.

Shyly Sam took it, and Frodo led him down into a hollow out of sight of his frisky and undeniably horny cousins. When they were safely alone, he wasted no time, but pulled Sam firmly to him and kissed him full on his moist pink mouth. Sam moaned. Taking this as a sign that Sam wasn't averse to what he was doing, Frodo boldly took possession of what now stood stiffly and very impressively out, first using his hand to explore it and then, kneeling in front of Sam, using his mouth. Sam tasted even better than Mrs. Maggot's mushrooms fried and swimming with butter, and Frodo had to readjust his notion of what constituted a proper mouthful.

Sam whimpered and spasmed, sank wobbly legged to the ground when Frodo finished feasting. But as that was exactly where Frodo wanted him, he voiced no complaint, only pushed Sam onto his back, draped his knees over his shoulders, and proceeded to demonstrate how a grateful master rewarded his favourite servant for his devotion.

When it was over, they napped together, Frodo's silken curls nestled on Sam's sturdy shoulder. They woke refreshed and ravenously hungry, so much so that they had to sate their hunger a second time before climbing back up the slope to wake Merry and Pippin. By the time a hearty "Hey dol, merry dol," came wafting toward them, the hobbits were hungry again - but this time for food.