by grievous angel
F/S, PG13
When Frodo woke, he was alone and, disappointed, he rolled over in bed, one hand outstretched as if hoping that Sam had somehow just managed to get lost in the crumpled sheets. His hand traced the dent in the pillow where his head had lain, and Frodo smiled, moving so that he was lying there, imagining he could still smell Sam around him. He shivered at the thought of being surrounded by Sam, of touching all that skin and muscle, and he smiled again.
How long he lay there he really couldn't say, but a faint noise from the garden made him sit up, listening for the sound again. Outside his room, Bag End lay quiet, Bilbo still sleeping peacefully, Frodo guessed, for it was early yet. The noise came again, and Frodo slid off the bed, hissing in a breath as hard-used muscles protested the sudden movement.
He moved slowly to the window and leaned out, breathing in the fresh air, the scents of the garden, watching Sam as he moved slowly - and, Frodo was pleased to notice, just a touch more carefully than usual - amongst the flowers and shrubs. He smiled again, aware that it was a very silly smile indeed.
"Stop it," Sam said quietly, his voice insinuating itself into the not-quite-silence of the early morning. "I can see you smiling like a ninny, even though I've got my back to you."
"It hasn't taken you long to start insulting me," Frodo said mildly, cupping his chin in his hands and continuing to watch the play of muscles under Sam's warm skin. He felt the smile grow wider realising that he knew Sam's skin was warm. Knew it was smooth and perfect. Knew the muscles were strong and limber. "I was hoping that after last night you would at least be filled with amazement at my athletic prowess. I think I may have pulled something." Sam looked over his shoulder and Frodo extravagantly rubbed a portion of his anatomy that was below the level of Sam's vision, eyes open and innocent, and the tips of Sam's ears turned bright red.
"Don't mean nothing by it," Sam said finally standing up, digging his fists into his kidneys whilst he stretched in a way that made Frodo's mouth water. "What I say to you. You know that." He sagged forward and turned around, moving to stand underneath Frodo's window. "Never mean anything I say to you, 'ceptin' the good things." He stood quietly for a moment, and then smiled, shaking his head.
"What?" Frodo asked, his fingers twitching as he tried to stop himself reaching down and hauling Sam bodily through the window of his room, throwing him to the floor, since he doubted they would reach the bed - and doing all kinds of wonderful things to him.