A/N: This story takes place in my AU, during which Frodo never sailed West, consequently meeting and falling in love with Drake…Frodo/OC slash! Crazy! In this particular tale, our four hobbits are making their way to Rivendell to visit Bilbo for a birthday. It's the middle of the night, and the weather is proving bothersome…
The rain lashed down even harder on the tent, which in Drake's opinion was looking less than sturdy. The thunder hadn't come yet, Thank Goodness, but the chaos of the elements so far was enough to cause him to cling furiously to the slender body beside him.
"Shhhhh…" Frodo whispered, his maimed hand making soothing circles on Drake's back, "It's alright."
Bad as his felt for his lover, there was a small, selfish corner of Frodo's heart that enjoyed these stormy nights. It was also a little comforting to know someone five years his senior could still get away with being frightened of thunder storms. His hand moved upwards into the tousled curls nestled against his collar bone and he began gently massaging. Protectiveness and affection swelled in his chest – it was rare that he got to do the comforting, to be strong and sturdy whilst the hobbit he loved went to pieces in his arms. The rain pulled back a little and the tent became still, abandoned by the furious wind. Drake relaxed a little, relieved, and tilted his head a fraction to press his lips gently against the warmth and smoothness of Frodo's throat. The gesture took Frodo by surprise and he shivered, relishing the tingle the kiss had left behind.
"How did you do this without a tent?"
The muffled words brought a smile to Frodo's lips, and the massaging hand crept round to stroke the tip of Drake's pointed ear.
"Miserably" Frodo replied, glancing up into the darkness and remembering the suffocating blackness of those nights trying to sleep in the pouring rain. Drake's dark chuckle pulsed into Frodo's chest, warming his heart. He briefly untangled himself from the well-muscled arms to wriggle down further into the makeshift bedding to be face to face with his lover.
"It helped knowing there was everyone else there too, getting miserable right along with you. We managed."
Frodo's eye's suddenly dulled, as they always did when he spoke of thatjourney. Berating himself for bringing it up, Drake pulled him close again and slid his hand under Frodo's nightshirt, gently pressing on the small of his back. The touch immediately returned Frodo from wherever it was these thoughts took him and back to this new world of safety and comfort.
"I'm proud of you," Frodo sighed, his eyes aching with affection, "You've done so well, to come so far with us. I know this is difficult – You've not once complained, even when we do, and you understand…"
Drake silenced him with another kiss, uniting their lips this time. He gently broke away and looked into the large, sparkling eyes before him.
"Frodo, you understand. I can't imagine doing this with anyone, not anyone else in the world except you. Give yourself some credit. You're the only person I've ever trusted enough to talk me into camping… camping, for Eru's sake, me, Drake Fielding, camping, no-one believed me when I told them where I was going!"
Frodo fought to suppress a giggle, hiding his head in Drake's broad chest.
"You're special. You've looked after me so well that I'm actually not hating this trip…however much I thought I was going to!"
Just as Frodo was about to reply, thunder roared directly above them, causing Drake to grab Frodo and return to his former whimpering state.
As Frodo welcomed the trembling hobbit back into his arms he silently thanked the Valar for the gift of this wonderful person who had been sent to love him.