Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own them. We all know it.
Author's Note: Set during one night of Frodo and Sam's journey through Emyn Muil. This may seem like a one-shot, but it's actually only one chapter of what will become my very first Frodo/Sam fic. And to think I couldn't picture them together at first. Bah!
Sam watched, mesmerized, as Frodo's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. He propped himself up on his elbow in order to face Frodo, who was lying on his back next to him. Sam sighed and shook his head. Frodo was getting thinner and paler. The beautiful tint of rose which had once painted his cheekbones was fading. "Oh, Mister Frodo," he whispered softly, brows furrowing with worry. Without thinking, he lifted his hand and ran the back of his fingers gently against Frodo's cheek in an endearing motion. Frodo let out a soft moan and his body shifted slightly. Startled, Sam whipped back his hand. His eyes widened as he continued to gaze at Frodo, but his heartbeat began to slow down when his master made no further movements.
"Your master, Sam Gamgee," he thought sadly to himself, casting his eyes to the ground in a sudden embarrassment. "He's your master, nothing more. And it isn't proper for you to feel this way about him."
Sam closed his eyes in a prolonged blink, trying hard to understand his own feelings. Just how did he feel about Frodo? When their quest had first begun, Sam had felt absolute devotion towards Frodo. He had made a promise to Gandalf and a promise to himself, and Samwise Gamgee did not break his promises. Yet slowly, devotion was more or less replaced by friendship, a friendship which, in the Shire, could not have been recognized between master and gardener. But...what came after friendship? What was he feeling now?
Sam rolled over onto his back, unable to look at Frodo anymore because of the confusion it caused him. He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep. He wanted a sleep free of nightmares, and free of dreams. "Shameful dreams, Sam," he would tell himself. But they kept coming back. He shut his eyes tighter, and his face wrinkled around his eyes. "Ahh, it's no use," he said aloud in a frustrated sigh. He stared up directly at the sky, trying to focus on the stars. Oh, but they were beautiful.
A sudden, soft cry from Frodo made Sam turn his head immediately toward his master. Frodo was biting his lower lip in his slumber, and his sleeping face was wrenched with pain. Sam rolled over on his side again and placed his hand over both of Frodo's, which were clenched together furiously. Frodo exhaled sharply, then Sam felt his master's hands loosen. Frodo's face relaxed and he returned to a peaceful rest. His nightmares had been coming more and more frequently, and Sam always seemed to be awake when one of them arrived. He removed his hand from Frodo's and kissed the sleeping hobbit's knuckles, then raised his eyes, his head still lowered. Sam put his hand to his heart, unconsciously trying to slow it down. He was so beautiful, so dear to him.
Then Sam sat up partially, and bent his neck down until his face was directly above Frodo's. He smiled just looking at him, then bent his head in towards Frodo's and pressed his lips gently against those of his master's. Surprised at his own actions, he withdrew quickly and immediately lay down on his back again, eyes wide as they stared up at nothing in particular. "Shame on you, Sam Gamgee," he scolded himself quietly. His heart was racing. He felt like a criminal. Frodo moaned softly once more and Sam heard a slight rustle beside him. He turned on his side to see that Frodo had done the same and that they now lay face to face.
"Mister Frodo, dear Mister Frodo," he whispered. He slowly lifted a shaking hand and placed it behind Frodo's head, where he rested it. "Shame on you, Sam," he whispered almost inaudibly this time, closing his eyes and drawing steadily nearer to Frodo. He could feel the warm air from Frodo's nostrils on his face. He kissed Frodo again, if it could even be called a kiss. He didn't press up against Frodo at all this time. He only placed his lips on his beloved's in a moment that he wished could be so much more.
"Mmm, my beloved," Sam groaned softly. He removed his hand from behind Frodo's head and placed it on his back, drawing himself closer to his master. He wound his other arm around Frodo's waist and pressed himself against his body until he could feel their hearts beating together, as well as the warmth of their skin separated by a mere few layers of clothing. But Sam wasn't thinking of removing his or Frodo's clothing at all. His feelings that night were pure and loving. Loving...
"I love you, Frodo," he whispered, falling into sleep.