Following the Party
“You can’t… do this, Mer—” Frodo was choked by his own moaning. “Aah. Merry, s – stop it.”
But he was as helpless as a shuddering maiden in the hands of a knight in a grape purple and silver-lined velvety robe, pinned against the sturdy trunk of a birch tree by his – ah – much younger Brandybuck cousin. Merry, being the eldest in his own family, had always seen Frodo as the one who needed protection – not that that notion went without protest on Frodo’s part–and the Brandybuck had also vowed that he would take good care of this fair Baggins. But take good care did not mean this, did it? It did not mean that Merry’s hands should sneak under Frodo’s top and splay over his nipples – sometimes merely giving them ghostly touches but at other times tugging or even applying pressure hard enough to make Frodo writhe in rapture. Take good care should not also mean that one of Merry’s knees would push between Frodo’s legs to keep him in place – while once in a while it would rub over Frodo’s arousal, which the hobbit tried very hard to hide.
“Do I have to stop, Frodo, hmm?” For a moment Merry ceased from savoring the delightful, pliant, creamy column of Frodo’s throat to look up at the quivering lashes over his cousin’s closed eyes. The Brandybuck had to admit that he had had his eyes shut as well when he was licking all over the luscious skin. “Tell me why do I have to do that.” His voice was husky, making Frodo shudder. He lifted his idle hands and reluctantly made to push Merry.
“Because, Merry—” Again his noble intent was interrupted as Merry clamped his lips over Frodo’s.
“Shh…”
“No, uh, Merry.” Frodo gazed at his cousin dazedly. His hands were fixed upon Merry’s shoulders. “Because you, you haven’t come of age. I cannot get caught seducing a child.” Merry’s eyes flickered with mischief. He chuckled softly.
“A child? Who do you call a child, Frodo? As for seducing, I can hardly say it was you who seduced me first.”
But it was what Merry did the next second that made Frodo reel. He dropped abruptly on his knees and grabbed Frodo’s hands. Looking up, Merry pleaded, “I love you so much, Frodo Baggins. Please, please allow me to make you happy.”
Frodo was stunned as he sought Merry’s eyes behind veil of slowly forming tears.
“Oh, Merry, I know that.” Frodo began to slide down as well, grasping Merry’s shoulders tightly as if his life depended on them. “And there is nothing I want more in this world than being happy with you. But please understand my situation, Merry. What would the folk say if they saw us?”
“I will make sure they won’t.”
Frodo was silenced. Everything was silent save the soft whirring of the leaves blown by the gentle breeze.
“Can you?” whispered Frodo, feeling lightheaded as he thought of what would be the most extraordinary mathom he had ever given out on his birthday.
*
