A/N Welp, I've been inactive for a few weeks, and I'm super excited for The Hobbit, so i decided to get up off my proverbial lazy ass and write something based in Middle Earth. Soooooo, without further delay, I give you this! Sam, would you do the honors?

Sam: Sure thing, Ms. TwistedAngel. Ahem, TwistedAngel08 does not and probably never will own The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings Fellowship of the Ring, Two Towers, or The Return of the King, or even that other book she probably should read called The Similarian. If she did, Boromir would be alive, and living with Aragorn in Gondor, Merry and Pippin would spend their time doing God knows what, and Mr. Frodo and I would be... well, just keep reading to find out what Frodo and I would've been like.

Warning: Male x Male love, and in chapter two, MxM sex. You don't like it? Don't read it. Remember to R&R, everything welcome, even flames.

Chapter 1 An Armful of Frodo

Frodo lay in the little alcove, occasionally glancing at the sleeping gardener across from him. He did not look in fondness, but in jealously. Frodo was so tired, and yet wide-awake. His neck itched, the silver chain upon which the One Ring hung chafing him. He scratched at it, and upon touching the chain was reminded of the beautiful, golden little ring. He had to see it, had to look at it. It was so wretched, the ring, and he hated it! Yet, he loved it too, and he hated that he loved it. Sneakily, he pulled the ring out from his shirt, panting in anticipation. It excited him, touching the ring. It was an almost sexual excitement, and it drove him wild to turn that pretty, gold band over in his fingers. Yet, while it brought him pleasure to hold the ring, it agonized him as well. He hated it with all his heart, the damnable ring, and it made him sick to his stomach just to wear it on a chain around his neck. Oh, how shiny the ring was, glinting as he turned it over and over. Then he sensed someone coming; it was Sméagol, that nosy bastard! He was coming; Frodo couldn't let him see the ring. Hurriedly he stuffed the ring back into his shirt, tying to act as if nothing had happened. Sméagol appeared upside down front the top of the opening of the alcove, panting.
"Wake up!" he said. Dropping down, he repeated himself. "Wake up, sleepies." He shook Sam awake, saying, "We must go, yes, we must go at once." Then, as quick as he came, Sméagol was gone, rushing off without them. Frodo didn't worry though; he would be back. Sam groaned, sitting up and looking towards Frodo.
"Haven't you had any sleep, Mr. Frodo?" he asked worriedly. Cowering slightly, Frodo shook his head, wondering what Sam would do about it. The bigger hobbit only shook his head, getting up. "Ugh, and I've gone and had too much." He looked out at the dark sky, the gloom intensified by all the dead trees on the desolate horizon. "It must be getting late." Frodo held back a sigh, looking out at the sky as well.
"No. It isn't midday yet... the days are growing darker." Suddenly, the ground quaked angrily, throwing Sam off his balance a bit.
Sméagol panicked, calling out, "Come on! We must go, no time!" Sam huffed.
"Not until Mr. Frodo's had something to eat!"
"No time, silly!" Shaking his head, Sam rifled in his pack, looking for food. With a sigh, he pulled out lembas bread, the only thing they had. He handed it to Frodo.

"Here," he said softly.

"What about you?"

"Ah, I'm not hungry. Leastways, not for lembas bread."

"Sam."

With a sigh, Sam gave in. "Alright, we don't have that much left. We have to be careful or we're going to run out." After a moment, he smiled slightly. "You go ahead and eat that, Mr. Frodo, I've rationed it. There should be enough."

"Enough for what?" Frodo asked, cocking his head to the side.

"The journey home," Sam said, smiling slightly. Frodo held back a gasp. In that moment, he forgot about the ring completely, and could only think of Sam, that sweet, sweet hobbit. The journey home, Frodo thought to himself. He couldn't quite explain why, but hearing Sam say this filled his heart with... not joy, but something akin to love. Oh Sam, he thought to himself. That night, Frodo didn't contemplate the ring in a dark stupor as he usually did at night. Instead, he thought of Sam. How did the larger hobbit feel towards him? Was the way an employee thinks of his employer? Sam did call him Mr. Frodo all the time. But then, their relationship had grown since they left the shire. Was it the way a hobbit thinks of his best friend? Sam had insisted on coming with him the rest of the way to Mordor, and used his silly excuse to do it. "'Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee.' And I don't mean to!" No, that wasn't quite right either. It's one thing to stay by your friend's side, but what about all the times Sam had made Frodo drink the last of the water, or insisted on going first to make sure it was safe for Frodo? Did best friends do that? Well, yes, but for each other, not one for the other. So, did that mean Sam...? Loved Frodo? Could that be it? The brown haired hobbit's heart pounded at the thought. Does he love me?

"Mr. Frodo? Aren't you asleep?" the hobbit in question inquired. Frodo sighed and turned to face his friend.

"No Sam, I just have something on my mind, that's all."

"It's the ring, isn't it?"

Frodo chuckled a bit before saying, "Surprisingly, no, it's not the ring. It's... a person." Sam stiffened a bit, and then relaxed.

"Who is it, if you don't mind me asking, Mr. Frodo?" he said calmly. Frodo took in a deep breath, and then let it out slowly to calm himself.

"Well, to be honest... it was you, Sam..." he said slowly, letting that sink in. Sam cocked his head to the side.

"Me? You were thinking about me?" he asked, confused. "I haven't done anything to upset you, have I Mr. Frodo?" Frodo shook his head.

"Of course not. It's just... what you said today, about the journey home, it made me... I felt... you just..." Frodo trailed off, unsure of how to explain how he felt. Taking another deep breath to calm himself, he tried again. "Sam, how do you feel... about me?" He watched his friend carefully for any sign of rejection, but the blonde hobbit only gave him a confused look. Then, knowing spread across Sam's face, along with a bright blush.

"Oh, w-well, Mr. Frodo, I-I-I don't know what you m-m-mean," he stammered. Now it was Frodo's turn to be confused.

"Well, how do you feel about me?" he repeated. Sam sputtered a bit more before sighing in defeat and looking at the ground.

"Mr. Frodo, if I told you how I felt, you'd probably want me to leave. And seeing as I don't want to leave you alone with that-that thing, I'm not going to tell you," he mumbled. Frodo huffed.

"Why would I make you leave?" He watched as his friend fidgeted, unable to say any more.

"Mr. Frodo, I..." Sam trailed off, not knowing that Frodo was holding his breath, waiting for what he hoped the next three words would be. "I... I love you, alright," Sam huffed. Before he could look up to see what damage he had done, he found himself with an armful of Frodo.

"Oh Sam, I'd hoped you would say that," Frodo whispered. After the initial shock wore off, Sam hugged his friend back.

"You mean you don't hate me, Mr. Frodo?" he asked meekly. Frodo pulled back and stared in disbelief.

"Hate you? No, I don't hate you! I love you too!" he said, smacking Sam playfully as he settled down in the bigger hobbit's lap. Sam looked into his friend's eyes and couldn't believe what he saw. Happiness, instead of gloom, hope instead of despair, and for the first time in months, Sam saw love rather than obsession in Frodo's eyes.

"Oh Mr. Frodo, I could kiss you right now!" he exclaimed. Then, he looked away, turning bright red in embarrassment. Frodo only chuckled, and then leaned forward to whisper in the blonde hobbit's ear.

"Well, why don't you?" Sam stiffened upon hearing the question, uncertain of how to proceed. Then, slowly, he turned to face his best friend, pressing their foreheads together. Their noses brushing, both hobbits waited for the other to move. After a moment though, Frodo got tired of waiting and lightly pressed his lips to Sam's in a chaste kiss. They both gasped, shocked at the sudden contact. Neither had ever kissed anyone. They chuckled nervously, and then tentatively pressed their lips together for the second time. Both were hesitant until Sam shyly licked at Frodo's bottom lip. Then as Frodo opened his mouth for his best friend's tongue to invade, they grew more confident. Frodo pushed Sam down onto his back, straddling the larger hobbit without ever breaking their kiss. Their tongues danced together as they explored each and every crevice of each other's mouths. Both hobbits would have been content to go on like this forever, but they broke apart, gasping for air. Then, Frodo started pulling at the strings and buttons of Sam's attire. Though it was on his mind as well, Sam put a hand on the brunette's chest, stopping him.

"Mr. Frodo, what about Gollum?" he asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Frodo looked around, especially at the pond they were camped by for the night.

"He's gone right now, and won't be back until the morning. We have time Sam," he said, a silly smile playing about his lips. Sam groaned, still unsure, making his friend frown. "Sam, I'm not going to lie to you, I don't believe I'm going to be making a return journey. I want us to have done this, so I don't d-"

"Don't say die, Mr. Frodo, I won't hear it!" Sam interrupted. He struggled to sit up for a moment then gave up with a huff. "You are not going to die, Mr. Frodo, not if I have anything to do about it." He rolled them over to wear Frodo was on his back and bent down to give the smaller hobbit a kiss on the nose. "Don't you worry Mr. Frodo, we'll get the chance," he whispered reassuringly. Frodo groaned in disappointment but didn't argue. As they lay back down to sleep, this time cuddled together, one last thought crossed Frodo's mind before falling asleep: oh, Sam.