Title: Not Unnoticed
Author: RavenWolf
Pairing: Frodo/Aragorn/Merry
Writing For: Angie T
Rating: NC-17
Slash/Non-Slash: Slash
Genre/Setting/Scenario: Aragorn is looking after Frodo's hurts inflicted by the cave trolls spear when Merry comes to lend a hand.
A/N: Written for Angie T. for the Frodo's New Year's Mathoms challenge.
~~~
It seemed to Frodo that perhaps the cave troll’s spear had pierced the mithril after all. A deep purple, throbbing bruise had appeared over Frodo’s ribcage. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. It hurt to walk. At this point, Frodo had given up on finding an activity that didn’t hurt, and was currently looking for the one that hurt the least.
Both Aragorn and Legolas kept shooting him glances out of the corners of their eyes. Not to mention Sam, Merry, and Pippin. At some moments, Frodo felt as though he were up on display.
Finally, it was too much for Aragorn. He came and knelt by Frodo’s side. “Are you alright, Frodo? You seem a bit pale.”
“Actually, not. It seems the cave troll’s spear caused more damage than it appeared.” Frodo smiled self-deprecatingly. Aragorn called out a halt to the company and led Frodo over to a large, flat boulder.
Without so much as a word, Aragorn hefted Frodo up to sit on the boulder and then lifted his shirt. A shiver coursed through Frodo, both because of the cold air and the sudden roughness of the ranger’s hands on his skin.
For Aragorn’s part, what had started out as a medical examination was becoming hard to maintain. Frodo’s skin beneath his hands was bare and smooth and white. A large, purple bruise covered his torso just below the sternum. When Aragorn touched it, Frodo winced.
“I’m sorry.” Aragorn looked up into Frodo’s eyes and was blown away. Normally ice cool eyes were on fire with lust, and they looked straight at him. Aragorn caught his breath.
Quickly, Aragorn pulled down Frodo’s shirt and backed away. “You should be alright for the rest of the day. When we make camp tonight, I’ll have Legolas look at it.” Still breathing slightly out of beat, Aragorn walked back to the head of the company. Merry shot him a strange look, but said nothing.
As the group continued moving, Merry fell back to speak with Frodo. “What just happened there, cousin?”
Frodo blushed heavily. He did not want to be interrogated about events he was already embarrassed by. Especially not Merry.
“’Twas nothing. Aragorn was just checking on my bruises. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“I’m certain it is. I saw the size of that bruise. It looks rather painful. Do you want me to flag down one of the man/horses and get them to give you a ride?” Frodo smiled at the tiny attempt to cheer him up. The men, and Legolas, seemed completely ready to hoist the first little person they found up onto their shoulders. The hobbits often giggled about it when the big people were elsewhere.
Merry slung an arm around Frodo’s shoulder. It had the added effect of giving Frodo some extra support, while at the same time being discreet about it. Frodo definitely appreciated the gesture. He was sure that Aragorn viewed him as weak already, and he didn’t want to encourage that impression.
With Merry, though, it was different. Frodo trusted him completely. Not, perhaps, as much as Sam, but Merry had a quick mind and Frodo could admit to himself that he’d had a crush on the other hobbit for quite awhile now. He hoped that Merry didn’t know about it, because while hobbits were usually quite free about sex and sexuality, Frodo had always been the odd one, and even when it came to this, he was outside the hobbit norm.
They walked until sunset, and then Aragorn called a halt. They would stay here for the night, he said. It seemed to him that they were out of immediate danger from the orcs, and he wanted to make sure that Frodo was able to continue. He felt that the small hobbit was holding something back from him, but he was shy about asking. What had happened between Frodo and him earlier had shaken him quite a bit. He’d spent the entirety of the day ruminating on the thing.
He’d thought that his love for Frodo was purely platonic, but that was up until this afternoon. Up until he’d touched Frodo’s fair skin and seen his electric blue eyes warmed over with want.
He sent Frodo a sidelong glance, expecting to see him with Sam, talking about one thing or another. He was surprised to see Frodo and his cousin Merry sitting off to one side, seemingly deep in conversation. He smothered the urge to find out what they were talking about, and began to set up camp.
***
After they had eaten dinner, Aragorn went up to Legolas, intent on asking him to finish caring for Frodo’s wound. But when he reached the handsome blond elf, the image of Legolas’s hands on Frodo snapped into his mind. A spurt of jealousy caught him off-guard, and he found himself stammering out some excuse to the waiting elf. His eyes were on Frodo, who was leaning into Merry for comfort. Merry was stroking his cousin’s hair and speaking softly to him. Aragorn decided that he could, indeed, help heal Frodo himself.
When he had been setting up camp, he’d scouted out a beautiful clearing not far from camp. A stream ran through it, and on the banks grew the healing plant athelas. The stars and moon would light up the meadow, and it would be a perfect place to ease Frodo’s hurt. Aragorn surprised himself by thinking about how it would be to lift up Frodo’s shirt again. How soft the bare skin would be beneath his touch. His reaction to the small halfling scared him with its intensity.
He rose to get Frodo.
***
Frodo and Merry spoke in soft tones. The weakness Frodo felt in his body had spread to his mentality, and he would not let Merry leave his side. He had ended up confessing his feelings about Aragorn to Merry. A strange look in Merry’s eye had surprised him for a moment, but it was erased when his cousin lauded his bravery and encouraged him to reveal his feelings to Aragorn.
The thing was, Frodo was not sure he even had the bravery to admit that to Aragorn. The man had been so kind and caring, Frodo hated to put the burden of his affections on him. Worse yet, he worried that Aragorn might pretend to reciprocate to spare his feelings.
Merry felt his cousin’s distress, and pulled him closer. His larger body curled naturally around Frodo, and offered a kind of sedate protection.
He looked up as he saw Aragorn approach them. The ranger looked rather uncomfortable, and his eyes continually shifted back and forth. Merry’s eyes flashed quickly to Boromir, and then back to Aragorn. The look of desire in his eyes frightened Merry. He must have fallen to the Ring lust...But Aragorn was too strong for that. Merry knew intellectually that Aragorn would never hurt Frodo, but his instincts would not allow him to believe. He held Frodo closer.
Aragorn came and knelt before them. “I wonder if I might borrow Frodo for a while, Merry. There is a clearing not far from here where a small creek flows. I’d like to bathe Frodo’s wound, perhaps slow some of the swelling.”
The idea sounded quite pleasurable to Frodo, but Merry closed his arms around Frodo protectively. “Why don’t I come along? I would like a nice bath, myself.”
Finding no reason to protest, Aragorn nodded. He was a bit disappointed that he and Frodo would not be alone, but at the same time he was pleased. Merry could help protect Frodo from him, and him from himself. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Frodo in any way.
Merry rose and helped Frodo to his feet. Frodo blinked. Something of a power-play was going on between Merry and Aragorn. He could sense it in the air, and it made him rather uneasy.
But when Aragorn touched his hand, it all melted away. Rough, calloused fingers intertwined with soft, narrow ones. Frodo smiled as he felt heat rushing through his body. He could almost ignore the pain in his ribs for this.
Aragorn didn’t know why he’d taken Frodo’s hand. It didn’t seem very logical, nor very polite. He was almost certain that Frodo would pull away and admonish him for treating him like a child. That wasn’t exactly true. He didn’t think of Frodo as anywhere near being a child, but simply wanted to touch him.
And for his good luck, Frodo did nothing of the sort. He simply took his hand and smiled up at him.
Aragorn loved that smile. He loved it so much, and he wished with all his heart to be able to see more of it.
Together they walked toward the clearing Aragorn had spoken of. Merry walked behind them, watching the man carefully. But Aragorn was being surprisingly tender and gentle with Frodo. Merry began to wonder if maybe he’d misread Aragorn, after all.
***
When they came to the clearing, Frodo caught his breath. There, the stream Aragorn had spoken of babbled quickly down a grassy slope, jagged with rocks where it met the water. The starlight and moonlight gave everything a silver glaze, and near the stream, blades of grass shone with moisture. It was beautiful.
“Come, Frodo.” It was all Aragorn had to say. Frodo followed him, entranced, to the stream. A shallow bank of sand jutted into the grass, and it was there that Aragorn took them.
Frodo sat down on the sand, still warm from the sun’s recent departure. A nervous look was in Aragorn’s eye, and Merry...well, Merry began to understand what was about to happen here. He began to realize that he was intruding on a very private moment. But he was too enthralled to leave. So he sat at the marriage of the sand and the grass, and observed quietly.
Frodo lifted his arms slowly as Aragorn lifted his shirt off slowly. It felt more like a seduction than a medical exam. And Frodo didn’t mind that at all.
Aragorn’s rough hands skimmed Frodo’s skin, and his eyes were focused intently on the halfling’s torso. Frodo was not especially well-muscled, or at least, not so that it showed. All of his muscle was layered compactly and smoothly, so that his body was not bulky in any way. The burden of the Ring and the journey had caused him to loose some weight, and as a consequence, Aragorn was able to clearly see his ribs.
Aragorn’s gray eyes flicked up to meet Frodo’s. They were caught in a stare, and Aragorn’s hands slowly stopped moving. Forever hung in the soft, slow breaths that accumulated between them. Merry’s presence was forgotten for the moment, and they each waited for the inevitable movement.
It came upon both of them in unison, and their lips met for the first time. Softly, delicately, and oh so gentle. Electric chills went up and down Frodo’s spine, and his eyes fell closed as his arousal grew. His small pink nipples stood erect against Aragorn’s chest, but the ranger’s hands were stroking his back now, inciting more fire in Frodo’s belly.
As for Aragorn, he was caught in a mire of pleasure. Blurrily, he thought that he should stop, and that he was taking advantage, but those thoughts were too far away from this moment to heed. Frodo’s small but skillful hands were running through his hair, gently urging Aragorn’s head forward. A soft moan broke out, but it did not come from either of them.
It came from Merry, who felt almost like a shadow, and at the same time, so much like an active participant. Aragorn and Frodo turned as one to look at him. Matching fevered gazes graced both of their faces. Merry felt a lust stoked to life inside him as they looked.
Halfway frightened that they would banish him, he waited in silence. To his surprise, Frodo crawled across the short space between them. Without so much as a by-your-leave, Frodo’s lips were on Merry’s. The hobbit groaned in surprise, and rose to his knees, eager to be a more active participant. Frodo welcomed him and pulled him closer.
A third presence soon made itself known. Smoothly, Aragorn slid between the two hobbits, turning to Merry and taking the tip of one ear into his mouth. Gently, he worried it with his teeth. Merry shivered and clutched Aragorn closer.
Frodo, not one to be left out, molded himself to Aragorn’s back. He brushed the ranger’s hair aside, and began to feast noisily on the side of his neck. Aragorn ceased his activity and leaned his head back to allow Frodo better access. Merry took full advantage of this fact by licking and sucking the column of Aragorn’s throat.
They stayed like that for only a few moments. Aragorn felt like his skin was burning, and his arousal rose hard and persistent between his legs. He drew Merry in for a hard and fast kiss. Before he knew what was happening, both hobbits were lifting his shirt over his shoulders and off his arms. Now, Aragorn sat half-naked in the honeysuckle-flavored moonlight.
Aragorn’s skin was not pale and smooth like Frodo’s. His tanned torso rippled with wiry muscle, and his pelt was covered in scars from his harsh life. Frodo sat in awe. Delicately, he ran his fingers across a long scar marked on Aragorn’s back.
Aragorn shivered and turned to face him. Entranced, Frodo mouthed another scar high on Aragorn’s breast. The ranger threw his head back and moaned in pleasure. Encouraged, Frodo ran his tongue along the raised skin, and then kissed downward, aiming toward a dusky nipple.
Meanwhile, Merry came round to Frodo’s back. Frodo crawled to sit in Aragorn’s lap, and their cocks rubbed together, causing both to grunt deeply and push harder.
Merry had taken out his own cock by now, and he stroked it quickly. He could not believe how amazingly erotic the sight of Aragorn and Frodo was.
But again, he was not unnoticed for long. Frodo beckoned him closer, and took Merry’s cock in his hand.
Merry smiled devilishly. This was good, but the imaginative hobbit had another idea that would be even better.
Frodo saw in his cousin’s eyes a lust which he had never seen before. With a nod toward Aragorn, Frodo aided him in pushing the ranger down on his back. As Aragorn lay flat, the moon filled his vision.
Frodo crawled up Aragorn’s body to his chest and unlaced his own breeches. Aragorn, seizing the opportunity, took Frodo’s weeping member into his mouth. Frodo growled and his hips bucked helplessly. With his hands on Frodo’s hips, Aragorn held complete control. And it was driving Frodo mad.
Frodo’s taste was pulling Aragorn deeper into lust. His cock lay red and throbbing on his belly, and though he had not thought it possible, he felt like he would come from the sheer torture of having Frodo so close to him. He felt Frodo’s pleasure in the measure of his taste and his squirming hips and rolling eyes.
But Aragorn was completely surprised when Merry took his cock in hand. And he was beyond shocked when Merry sat down on his slick member.
He trembled and his rhythm with Frodo faltered. He felt his eyes begin to roll up into his head as Merry’s tight passage clamped down around him. He was in such a position that it was virtually impossible for him to thrust up into Merry. And so, Merry was in complete control over him.
Frodo, too, felt the presence of the other hobbit. Merry pressed himself against Frodo’s back as he began to rock back and forth on Aragorn’s cock. Frodo turned his head slightly, and Merry kissed his cousin briefly, but with fire.
The moonlight smiled down on them as they moved in tandem, each setting a slightly different rhythm, but each keeping time with the others.
The combination of everything sent Frodo over the edge at last, and he saw stars and universes when he went. His creamy taste flooded Aragorn’s senses, and the ranger gave a long moan and came inside of Merry.
The last little hobbit followed the trend, and his semen coated his chest and Frodo’s back.
Frodo sagged back into his cousin’s arms. Together, they rolled off of Aragorn’s body.
Fondly, Aragorn looked at Frodo, curled contently in Merry’s arms, with the glittering stream at their backs. Unwilling to leave such happiness as he’d found here, Aragorn rolled over and enveloped both hobbits in his great arms. Frodo nuzzled close to the man’s chest, and then something occurred to him.
The Ring and the ache in his ribs had been completely forgotten.