“You’re the best companion a hobbit could ask for,” Frodo told Sam, because it was true, and because he loved to watch the bashful way Sam would smile and look down whenever he complimented him.
“Oh Mr. Frodo,” Sam muttered, looking away. His cheeks were stained pink.
A few moments from their journey home, during which Frodo gets sappy and Sam gets flustered about it.
Read on AO3
“Nomads” AU for the AUgust 2024 challenge (@augustwritingchallenge)! The collection is here!
I definitely have lost AUgust yet again but I'm still tryna get these posts together at least lol.
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He was humming as he busied himself in the kitchen, cooking up a no doubt thoughtful and filling meal for the both of them. Frodo had been watching Sam for some time, just sitting in a cushioned chair uselessly as always. Sam would shoo him out of the kitchen if he tried to help, which was a relief that weighed on him heavily. He didn't much have the energy for cooking. Didn’t have the energy for much of anything.
Useless.
Frodo watched as the sunlight streaming through the windows made the gold in Sam’s hair shine. He was a beautiful hobbit. A wonderful hobbit, really. Perfectly helpful, and kind, and strong in all the ways one could be. Frodo was lucky to have a place in his life.
But he didn't deserve Sam’s attention.
“What are you doing, Sam?”
The humming stopped as Sam stood still for a moment before shooting Frodo a amused gaze. “Well, making us dinner o’ course.” He stated with a smile.
Frodo tried again, “Why? Why do you do all this for me?”
The hurt look he was met with was one he should have expected. “D’you not want me here?”
“That's not it.” Frodo sighed. “You could be spending your days doing so many other things, and yet you're wasting them taking care of me.” The hurt look took an edge to it. “Listen, please. You’re meant for more than just dealing with me. Don't you want to find a lass to settle down with? What about Rosie? Have you even spoken to her since we returned to the Shire?”
Sam’s brow was furrowed in one of those stubborn expresions he was known to wear when particularly impassioned.”You ought to know by now i don't do nothing i don't want to be doing. If I wanted to go find a lass or sweet talk Rosie I’d be doing it.” he said with finality.
The room was tense, and Frodo hated to be the cause of it. But he knew Sam deserved better than this. “And how long will that last? You can't just coddle me forever. You’ll tire of me eventually...” Frodo trailed off when the lump formed in his throat.
“I won't.”
Frod looked back up at Sam, and the earnestness in those eyes just made the lump grow. “How are you so sure?”
Sam hesitated, and his shoulders slumped but he didn't look away. “Do you not know?”
That made Frodo pause, and his heart sped up. “Know what?”
He waited quietly as Sam stepped closer, and kneeled down in front of Frodo’s chair. There was a stillness about them as Sam held eye contact with a vulnerable, determined air to him.
“I’m in love with you."
And Frodo’s heart stopped.
Sam continued on, “I don’t want Rosie or any other lass. I don't want to be anywhere but right here if you’ll still let me. I know you don't feel the same and that’s okay, but I don't want you believing that-” but he was cut off by Frodo leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. He couldn't let Sam think that for a second longer.
It was quick and off center, but it successfully stopped Sam in his tracks.
“You…?”
Frodo simply smiled, “Yes.” He trailed his fingers across Sam’s cheek. “I don't yet understand why you would, but I love you, my dear Sam.”
And it was his turn to be kissed, but this one wasn't in haste. He was pulled nearly out of his chair as Sam caught his mouth firmly.
“Don't you dare say that,” was whispered fiercly against his lips as hands grasped at his hair. “You deserve more than I can give you, but that won't stop me from trying.”
Any protests Frodo might have had were swallowed up by the desperate press against him, and he automatically opened his mouth up to Sam. The tongue that licked itns way in was instant and the keen ripped from his throat surprised Frodo himself. His pulse rushed in his ears and every sensation was Sam, Sam, Sam.
His Sam.
He managed to choke out an, “I love you,” and an involuntary whimper escaped him when Sam pulled back slightly. His eyes fluttered open when he felt a thumb stroke his cheek, and it was only then that he noticed the dampness there.
“I’ve got you,” Sam whispered, his eyes full of an adoration that was hard to face, “and I’m not letting you go without a fight. Not unless you truly want me to.”
Frodo shook his head, and Sam’s smile was radiant.
