The Unlikely Ones
Chapter Seven: Have Faith
a Lord of the Rings fanfiction
by Van Donovan
joy@crackerboxpalace.com

Merry stood before the closed front door for several long moments after Pippin had left, just letting Frodo hold him as his mind went over the events that had just happened over the night. Before Merry was willing to move he felt Frodo tugging him and he turned with a relucant sigh, allowing the boy to lead him away from the front hall and back into the living room. "It's strange to me," Frodo began as he sat Merry down and went to pour him another mug of ale from the keg in the corner of the hall, "how despite all the dreams and thoughts I had of you," he returned with the mug, pressing it to Merry's hand as he sat on the couch beside him, "I never once pictured your friends reactions to us, or my parents finding out about us. I suppose I was so worried about your rejection the thoughts I had never got any further."
Merry drank from the stein thankfully and listened as Frodo spoke, nodding to himself for he hadn't even really considered everything that they would be facing as a couple. If they stayed together and tried to keep their relationship a secret things would hard and they would both have to take to lying a lot, which was not something Merry wanted to do. Yet, telling people would be worse for both of them. Sam and Rose would probably insist Frodo come back, which would be the end of 'them'. Then no doubt word would get out he was a basket-robber, which was what the hobbit-lasses called those older men who snatched the youngest lasses from their families. Only, he would be far worse, for he was not only several decades older than Frodo and also male, but he was the Master of Buckland.
His entire career was riding on this fling he was having.
Yet, as Frodo rested his head against his shoulder softly and his heart tightened at the touch and the sight, he knew it was more than just a fling. He didn't know how or why or even really when but he had fallen quite in love with the eldest Gamgee son. Despite all the problems against them and the years of hurt they might have to endure for it, he found there was nothing that would make him let the boy go now. He set the mug of ale down on the table, only half empty and gathered Frodo into his arms. "We've got a long road set out for ourselves, Frodo my lad," he breathed softly into the boy's ear, "and not an easy one neither." He stroked the boy's curly dark hair once and added, "But I'm not going to give you up. All right? So you be strong for me too, Frodo."
Frodo pulled his head away from Merry and looked at him hard, his dark eyes studying Merry's for several long moments. "Merry," he finally said, speaking softly, "just because I said I never thought about some of the consequences that our relationship could incur doesn't mean for a moment that I'm not still desperately in love with you and ready to do or say anything to keep it that way."
Merry smiled tightly at him and they hugged for a long time. Finally Frodo stirred and pulled away, taking the mug of half-drunk ale and the glasses he and Pippin had used earlier into the kitchen to clean. Merry sat before the fire a short time longer then got up and moved into the kitchen watching Frodo finishing drying the mugs. Frodo turned to see Merry standing in the doorway watching him and gave a small smile. "Tired?" Merry asked, looking at Frodo's face.
"Yes," he said, crossing over to him, "physically and emotionally. My legs are sore still from riding that blasted pony, and now my arms are weary from hoeing your garden. I can see why you needed to bring in a Gamgee to help; that place is a mess."
"I sort of let it go, when Estella became ill."
"I'm sorry," Frodo started.
"No, don't be." He shook his head, smiling sadly. "Come now, Frodo my boy, are you so tired a massage from an old man would be unwelcomed?"
Frodo's small smile broke out into a much brighter one at Merry's teasing. "I should think I can handle it, if you can."
"Excellent," Merry said with a devious grin and in one fell motion he had scooped Frodo up off his feet like a bride after giving her vows and was striding towards his bedroom with long steps, grinning foolishly as Frodo's laughter filled the hall.

Merry unceremoniously dumped Frodo onto the high canopy and proceeded to clamour up onto it after him. Frodo sprawled out on his stomach, his head pillowed in his arms, his eyes partially closed. Merry ran his hand along Frodo's back absently, then he leaned over him and his large strong hands took his slight shoulders and began to roll them. Frodo let out a faint groan to let Merry know that he was enjoying the work so far and Merry kept massassing. He let his thumbs work the knotted kinks out of Frodo's shoulders, formed from too much garden work and tension. He worked to Frodo's biceps that were taunt and toned unlike most hobbits his age, for Frodo was more interested in working in the sun than feasting. He started on Frodo's back but found the boy's shirt to impede proper massaging and with a silent word he got Frodo, who was almost puddle-like, to pull it off. This sent suspenders flapping down Frodo's side and left a crumpled shirt on the other side of the bed. Merry resumed his massaging.
He pressed his thumbs against Frodo's spine, straightening it and smoothing out the muscles there, repeating the process several times until he reached the small of Frodo's back. He worked on Frodo's sides, careful about his ribs but didn't get too far, for the boy giggled each time he brushed too lightly. He bypassed Frodo's rear and set to work on his thighs, both of which were tight with tension from having been in a saddle too long for one unaccustomed to riding. He enjoyed hearing Frodo's groans of delight as he worked out particularly taunt knots in his thighs. He was careful where he touched, trying not to stimulate sexual arousal for he was more interested in relaxing Frodo than exciting him, but he found the act of rubbing Frodo's legs was doing a number on his libido.
Frodo rolled over after Merry had just finished his left leg and fixed Merry with a flushed and lidded gaze. He was biting his lower lip lightly and although he was not breathing hard he looked completely roused. Merry's eyes flickered to the boy's hips and the soft strain he saw there told him that despite his efforts Frodo had responded in like want. He had about finished by then anyway, so he abandoned the massage as he trailed a hand over Frodo's chest, from his navel up, then cupped his cheek and bent to kiss him. Frodo's return kiss was light, obviously having been mellowed out from the massage.
It excited Merry.
Frodo was obviously wanting sexual pleasure and was too tired to protest or initiate even the littlest thing. It gave Merry complete domination and before he thought about it he found himself straddling the young boy, covering his lips with his own and pressing their erections together with a single roll of his hips. That elicited a gasp from Frodo, whose eyes fluttered closed as his head fell back against the pillow, exposing a bright expanse of neck. Merry trailed his tongue down to that plain of skin, nipping at it as he went, pausing to lap at the small hollow of Frodo's throat which trembled each time the boy took a shuddering gasp.
By the time Merry was finishing polishing Frodo's nipples the boy was rolling beneath him. One of Frodo's hands had found it's way into Merry's hair and he was gently pushing him down. Merry's fingers left Frodo's body and deftly untied the small bow at the front of the boys breeches. He lifted himself up on his knees briefly to help Frodo wriggle out of his pants and settled back on the boys thighs once he had Frodo completely naked before him. He was careful to regulate his breathing as he sat back and watched Frodo. The boys hands were vaguely trying to find him but his eyes were closed so he wasn't getting far. Merry snickered and took both his wrists in one hand and pulled them up and back over Frodo's head, pinning them there above him. Frodo's eyes opened faintly looking at Merry as he writhed beneath him.
Merry put his other hand on Frodo's chest, feeling the pounding of the boys heart and the heated rise and fall of his chest. "Merry," Frodo moaned having expected to be fulfilled once his pants were off. His hips bucked in frustration and Merry only clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
"You should learn patience, lad. Half the fun of sex is the foreplay." With that said he trailed his fingers down Frodo's navel and let them skirt his thighs and hips carefully avoiding the place Frodo wanted most to be touched.
The retort Frodo had died on his lips as Merry teased his body. He couldn't help his hips from rocking even though he was thrusting into empty air. He felt he would explode if he couldn't get some release and his arms strained against the grip Merry had on them, for he'd touch himself if Merry wouldn't. His back arched as he felt something feather light blow across his length and realized Merry was puffing out jets of air at him. He whimpered in his bonds, his head tossing and let out a gargled, "Merry, please."
Then Merry's tongue flicked out over his tip and his lips closed over the folds of skin there, gently peeling him back like some greatly prized fruit. Hardly sooner than Merry had started tongue-teasing him he clenched his eyes tightly shut and came. The results were less than astounding as as soon as the jet of ejaculation hit Merry's mouth he jerked back in shocked surprise and ended up getting sprayed in the face with the rest. "Frodo!" he sputtered, sitting up right stunned, his hands letting go of the hold he'd had on the boys arms to wipe at his face.
Frodo was relived and exhausted and could only offer a sad chuckle to Merry's state. "Serves you right for teasing," he murmured. Still, he lamented silently as Merry crawled off him and retreated to the adjoining bathroom to clean himself up. Frodo watched him with heavy-lids, smiling as he let the soft afterglow of sex drift him off to sleep.
Merry took longer than he had intended to wash up because he was so aroused he didn't know if he should try to get himself off and deal with both messes now instead of having to make another trip later. He finally decided he'd let Frodo take care of him this time since he'd fallen asleep on him last time. Returning to the bed he saw Frodo was curled onto his side sleeping soundly already. Merry sat on the edge of the bed with an exasperated sigh. Just looking at Frodo's sleeping form brought sharp longings to his loins and he hated to think he'd have to take care of himself while just watching him sleep again.
He nuzzled Frodo hopefully, trailing kisses down his jaw to his shoulder but the boy only muttered a giggle and scrunched closer into himself. Merry finally gave up and stood to pull his pants down so he could just get it over with. "At least I know I'm not in this relationship for the sex," he muttered, bowing his head and closing his eyes as he touched himself. He got one stroke completed when he felt Frodo shift on the bed behind him and then suddenly his own hand was joined by two other much smaller ones. He gritted his teeth as he felt Frodo press himself against Merry's back to take hold of him from behind. Merry shuddered at the feeling and the sight of those two small hands on him. "I thought you fell asleep," he whispered hoarsely.
Frodo answered him with a kiss on the back of his neck. "I did," he answered and one hand released him as he wormed his way around to his side and pushed Merry back on the bed. His eyes finally looked at Merry's bared length and his eyebrows turned up in something between mirth and surprise. "I see the Ent Draught left no part of you undersize." Merry flushed darkly at the comment but it didn't last long as Frodo tried to work his hands up and down Merry's length.
Merry tried to keep himself propped up with his arms but found it hard. A hand job by Frodo was not exactly the best sex he'd ever had in his life, but it was better than the same thing from himself, and since he hadn't had sex in over a year anything was an improvement over nothing. Frodo's hands were soft but rough in their actions and it was rather obvious he didn't exactly know what he was doing. "Just pretend it's yours," Merry said as Frodo squeezed a little too hard which pinched skin and made Merry bit his lip in brief pain. He knew he'd never do that to himself. Frodo looked at him and nodded and the strokes evened out better.
Merry closed his eyes, trying to let his mind take the pleasure given to him and send him over the edge. It was difficult, for he was an experienced lover used to sex with an experienced woman and as much as he might have learned to love Frodo this didn't quite compare. He tried to picture Frodo in his mind again, writhing underneath him, whimpering at his inability to touch himself for Merry pinning his hands. That worked some and he felt himself rising in pressure, rocking his hips back against Frodo. His mind took to thinking of Frodo again, watching the boy in his mind whimper as he trailed kissed down his stomach and eventually take his head into his mouth.
And then his vision was broken as his imaginary Frodo came all over his face again.
Exasperated and desperate for release one of his hands pulled off the bed and moved to touch himself. Frodo's clumsy hands fell aside as Merry jerked himself the last final steps and with a silent grunt behind clenched teeth he came. He let out a sigh as he finally released and sunk back onto his elbows on the bed. His eyes were almost closed when he felt Frodo's small hands touch him again. He looked at the boy as he trailed one finger along his length, which was already softening, and then their eyes met. "Merry," Frodo said with a voice more like a whimper.
Merry wiped his hands on the quilt, knowing he'd regret it later and pulled Frodo to him, for the boy was obviously hurt that he hadn't been able to take Merry over the edge by himself. "Merry, I tried, I," but Merry kissed him softly.
"Ssh, Frodo-lad," he murmured into his ear, gently petting his back. "It's not your fault. I'm just older," he said softly, rocking him gently, "my body isn't quite as sure fire as it used to be. We'll work on it, find something that fits us both." Frodo nodded but he didn't seem to happy regardless.
Frodo had never expected that he wouldn't be able to make Merry orgasm, and yet he himself was so green he burst before Merry had even started. He buried his face into Merry's broad shoulder, blinking back hot tears that sprung to his eyes. He knew Merry was forty-some years older than he was, but the age difference never bothered him for he never saw a reason for it to before. Now, however, it was showing, and he found himself wishing only that he were older. He was about to pull away and go to try and take Merry's tip into his mouth and try to fumble his way through a blowjob when then old hobbit scooted back on the bed with him in his arms and pulled him to him.
Merry pulled off his shirt at long last and after coaxing Frodo back down the younger hobbit curled against his larger lover, his back to Merry's stomach. Merry put an arm around Frodo's middle, bending his neck to speak into Frodo's ear. "Don't be upset, Frodo dear," he stroked Frodo's side with his hand, "you're still young. I shall enjoy teaching you what to do and seeing you improve over time."
Frodo rolled over so his face was pressed into Merry's chest. "I wish I were a woman," he breathed and felt Merry's hand twitch against his side. "Then I could pleasure you like your wife could, and when I was old enough we could be married."
"Frodo," Merry whispered, running his hand along the boys soft back, "Frodo my lad, don't say such things. You had faith that I could fall in love with you or else you would never had told me your feelings that night; have faith now. Trust me that you will learn and in time be able to please me as I can please you." Frodo didn't respond and Merry nuzzled him. "Okay, Frodo? Have faith."
Merry received a final nod from Frodo. He thought for a few long moments and once he felt Frodo doze off in his arms he let sleep claim him as well.