Disclaimer: I'm not Tolkien, and therefore I do not own any of the characters, places, etc.
Warning: This contains Frodo/Sam slash. If you'd rather not read something of that nature, I strongly suggest you look elsewhere.
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"Frodo." Ragged whispers in a soft ear, a choked cry in response. "Are you happy?" Eyes clenched shut, boundless blue hidden beneath long, dark lashes. Whether from pleasure or pain, he knew not. Perhaps they were the same here, entwined into one hot, coursing rhythm, enveloping the mind and claiming the soul.
A shaking hand brushed damp ebony curls off a sweat-soaked forehead. Muscles strained, sapphire eyes opened wide and burned up at him now, screaming what his mouth could not. Hoping, struggling. Begging.
He accepted the arching body into him, muffled the cry with his own hungry mouth. His trembling hands held the tear-strained face between them; his thumb stroked a moist cheekbone tenderly. Tears were heavy in his own throat, his voice was hoarse and thick, and although a thousand words came to his mind, he could force only one barely audible question from his lips. "Are you happy?"
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