Before Sailing by Hyel
Summary: Frodo decides it's time to make the best of what time there is left.
Categories: FPS > Sam/Frodo, FPS, FPS > Frodo/Sam Characters: Frodo, Sam
Type: None
Warning: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 760 Read: 1042 Published: January 08, 2013 Updated: January 08, 2013
Story Notes:
I know there is no swing outside Bag End. Shut up. I like swings.

Dedication: To Janette Le Fay, by request.

1. Chapter 1 by Hyel

Chapter 1 by Hyel
They'd spoken plenty of words, including words about how they shouldn't be talking at all. Whys and hows -and whens - and with whos.

Frodo hadn't thought being together in this manner would be easy for a hobbit like Sam, but then again he wouldn't be Sam if he didn't suprise him. Familiar as his own breath, but never to be known fully... not even when gasping under his shy touch in a room of breathtaking alien grace, or when hands and lips fumble for each other in dark cold places where the only taste of home lingers on another's skin.

But wouldn't it still be hardest here, at home in the slanted sunlight, the land slowly starting to grow green again? Here every face except the very young ones had been familiar for as long back as memory could carry them.

They rocked quietly in the swing outside Bag End. Sam's hand was resting open in Frodo's, and Frodo traced the lines there softly with his index finger. There was earth under his fingernails. Sam had talked about going back in time for one of the famous Gamgee dinners, but he was already frightfully late, and neither of them mentioned it. It was beyond being a matter, now.

Sam pulled his hand from Frodo's and instead took Frodo's in his own; opening Frodo's fingers one by one, pausing over the gap between his index and ring finger, where one was missing. He stroked the side of Frodo's palm gently, then his wrist.

Frodo looked at Sam, staring fascinated at the length of Frodo's arm - self-effacing Sam, who never saw his own merit, but who made the world beautiful just by the way he talked of it. He'd never know he did that, no matter how often Frodo told him. There weren't always words for everything, so he just closed the distance between them to lay a soft kiss on Sam's lips.

Sam answered the kiss just as lightly, closing his lips over Frodo's lower one. Frodo thought briefly about the road going by the smial, and how they were visible for the whole of Hobbiton if the whole of Hobbiton had a keen enough eyesight even in the lessening light. Not caring, he moved forward to kiss Sam fully.

Sam inhaled Frodo's scent, leather bindings, ink and rain, as Frodo slipped one arm behind his back to draw him close. Clear blue eyes that were going grey now looked in Sam's searchingly for a moment, then Frodo wrapped his other arm around his neck to pull him in a new kiss, firm but still careful.

It had been coming for a while, now; the closeness they hadn't shared for a while. And the things they hadn't done yet - they lived unspoken between them. Sam lifted a hand hesitantly, then reached to caress Frodo's neck. If this was the time, he was ready.

Frodo broke the kiss, but held him close, sharing the same breath with him as he whispered, "Let's go inside."

...It was harder, maybe, now that they were home, to still be what they were on evanescent moments on a very long road. But after the night paths where they could scarcely tell their own names, and the places they'd stayed in on their long saunter home -comfortable, but always around people - it was also the best chance they could get.

That's when they'd talked, on their way home, fingers twined around each others' on walks along the winding streets Minas Tirith, on benches under the sighing leaves of Rivendell. It would have been easier not to analyze the nature of love, but every time a sentence was cut short it was room for another misunderstanding, so Frodo held Sam's head to his chest and confessed in whispers things Sam had been taught were wrong.

And Sam would say just a word or two, and Frodo would burst into tears, because it hurt to be loved that much. To love that much. And Sam would kiss him, kiss his brow or his lips, and that would make it better. But that would be all.

Frodo could feel something slipping away already. This might well be the last chance they could get.

Sam looked at him now, a tender little smile on his lips, and nodded slightly. He stood up, his hand closing around Frodo's, and led him to the door. As they went in, Frodo stared at their hands, fitting together so perfectly.

He knew it wouldn't be long now before he let go.
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