Author's Note: This is slash. If you don't like it, tough. Take comfort that Sam will probably not speak to me for a few weeks, and I will constantly be apologizing to him and Frodo until they forgive me. *sigh* I do not own the characters or places mentioned in this story. Read, enjoy, tell a friend.
"You ask how loving can happen—the emotion of loving.
She answers: Perhaps a sudden lapse in the logic of the universe."
Duras – The Malady of Death
It wasn't supposed to be this way. Sam looked at the sleeping figure of Frodo, with one hand curled around the ring hanging from his neck, and tried to fight back the tears. This could have been so different. Sam thought about the Shire, and how happy they had been before they had gone on this hopeless journey east. The world seemed to stop, and for a moment, he knew nothing but Frodo. There was no ring, no orcs, and no Sauron. In all of the endless nothingness that enveloped him, only one thing remained. Frodo. And Sam loved him.
Since they had started, Sam had experienced so many things that were so very foreign to him. Like fear. Real fear. There was no such thing as real fear in the Shire. What they called fear, well, it was nothing compared to the horror he had continually felt on this journey. Time and time again, he learned what real fear was, and it did not exist in the Shire.
And on their journey, Sam had learned to recognize love. Love was what he felt for Frodo. Waking up every morning and thanking his lucky stars that Frodo was still with him; that was love. The pit that grew in his stomach when Frodo was in danger and the happiness that grew inside him when Frodo was happy and smiling, were love. The complete hopelessness he felt when they were separated, even by only a few feet, was love. And it took Frodo sleeping soundly under a moonless night on the footsteps of their doom for Sam to realize it.
It should have been so different.
He shook his head, and crept closer to Frodo. "Oh, Mr. Frodo…" he murmured. He sat there, bent over Frodo, whispering into the darkness. "Mr. Frodo, I love you. And I know you don't feel the same way, or maybe you do…forgive me Mr. Frodo. Forgive me." Slowly, he bent down and kissed Frodo. To his surprise, Frodo kissed back. Sam's eyes widened, and he pulled away. "Mr. Frodo..."
"Sam, it's all right." Frodo said softly. "Come here, and lay down with me." Sam did as Frodo asked, curling up protectively beside him. Frodo took Sam's hand, and put it over himself, snuggling back into the curve of Sam's body. His breathing slowed again, and soon he was sleeping soundly again. Sam laid there, listening to Frodo breathe, amazed at what had just happened. In fact, he couldn't quite explain what had just happened. And as he lay there struggling with the thoughts that suddenly assaulted his mind, he knew one thing for certain. This absolute bliss he felt curled up beside Frodo, this was love.