Frodo/Merry fic

[sophinisba]

Here is some NC-17 Frodo/Merry sex in 3000 words (15 droubles).

(Also, here is a link to the Frodo/Merry fic I wrote in the spring.)

Sincere thanks to danachan and absolutefiction for their comments and suggestions.


A First Time for Everything



Frodo is waiting for him in the bedroom, on the bed. Naked, curled up on knees and elbows, so his bottom rests on his ankles, his head rests between his forearms, and in the candlelight Merry can count the vertebrae along the perfect arch of his back.

Resting, that's the right word for it. Frodo doesn't move a muscle as Merry opens the door (as Merry gasps at the sight), though he's certainly aware of the new presence in the room. He looks perfectly contained, perfectly relaxed, and, well, perfect, in that pose, and Merry is reluctant to disturb him.

And at the same time he desires more than anything to move him.

Merry stands still for some time.

"Are you really just going to stand there?" Frodo asks finally, still not rising, his voice muted in the bedcovers and between his arms.

"Nothing wrong with taking my time to enjoy a lovely sight. Are you uncomfortable, Frodo?"

Frodo sighs. "No, dear, just impatient to have you with me. Come to bed, Merry."

"Are we...?"

"If you want it."

"I do."

Frodo raises his head slightly then, enough to allow Merry to see his smile. "Come and take it then."

"Have you ever..." Merry had said one night, several months earlier, but had had a good deal of difficulty saying it. "Have you ever done that, Frodo?"

And if Frodo had wanted to he could have teased, could have pretended he didn't understand, forced Merry to come out with it, with all the words and letters, but instead he smiled, and said yes.

It was evening, in a room of Brandy Hall that was isolated enough that no one would hear the moans of two 'tweens, or of a 'tween and a bachelor already come of age, as Merry and Frodo were then. They were naked, and lying in bed together, and conversation could be slow rather than urgent, because they'd each already come that evening, though they might go for it again in a little while.

"And you liked it?" said Merry.

"I did, yes."

"You wouldn't... Did you ever think we should try it?"

"I thought we might eventually, but there's no need to rush."

"No, I wouldn't want to rush things, of course, but..."

"And we needn't do it at all if you decide you're not..."

"It's all right, Frodo, you don't need to keep protecting me."

"Is... is there oil?"

"Of course, Merry, but it's not necessary to start in with that just yet."

"No, I know that, I just wanted to check, before I started in with anything."

"It's there on the dresser."

Merry glances, sees the bottle lying in plain sight. He blushes to think of what it means, and stays still in the doorway. "Wouldn't want to have to run to the kitchen after I'd already got all my clothes off, you understand."

"But now you know, so you may as well get naked, yes?"

"And you're just going to wait there."

"You were enjoying the view a minute ago."

"No, I still am, but I..."

"Perhaps we're both talking more than we need to."

"Perhaps so."

Usually they help each other undress. It's one of the parts Merry's come to enjoy most, especially now they've got used to each other and learned to take it slow. But tonight he strips quickly as soon as he's stepped inside, not wanting to draw things out, or draw attention to his own arousal while Frodo could hide his under that beautiful half-circle.

"I could rub your back," Merry offers.

Frodo nods, flexes. "I'd like that."

"I'd like to," Merry'd said that night. "I'm just..." but after saying Frodo needn't protect him he felt he really shouldn't say he was afraid.

"All right then, enough of this speaking without really saying anything. You're curious about having sex with penetration, and you're nervous about it, and that's all perfectly normal. You know that, yes?"

"That it's normal?"

"Yes."

"Both wanting it and being nervous, both normal?"

"Yes, Merry."

"I don't feel normal."

"Well, that's as it should be. You're extraordinary."

Merry ducked his head. He'd asked because he felt less than normal, and Frodo had taken the opportunity to praise him. And now Frodo took the silence as an opportunity to pull up Merry's face with his hand, and to caress Merry's lips with his lips and with his tongue, to part them. Frodo kissed tenderly, almost lazily, and it took time, long minutes during which Merry forgot about wanting anything new, was content to let Frodo's tongue penetrate and explore his mouth. It was wet, sloppy, and not frightening in the least. It was what Frodo always did. Merry kissed back and realized that Frodo was protecting him, that he always had, and Merry was grateful.

Merry walks purposefully across Frodo's room, impressed with the steadiness of his own steps. He takes the little flask in his hand, walks purposefully to the bed, and stops still, frozen.

"If I spill it all over your back and the bed sheets, I suppose we'll have to call the whole thing off."

"Or get the other bottle from the drawer."

"Stars, Frodo, how much of this stuff do you keep in supply?"

"It has other uses besides sex."

"Such as?"

"Well, backrubs, for starters."

Merry nods, breathes. "Best get started then."

"Is it such a chore for you?"

"Patience, please." And, reminding himself that he's done this part at least plenty of times before, Merry settles in at Frodo's side and lets his hand trace its way lightly down Frodo's spine.

"There you are," says Frodo, "you know your way perfectly well."

"Yes," says Merry, and he unstops the bottle, watches the drops of oil pool in the palm of his hand. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

He'd meant it as a joke, but once he starts squeezing Frodo's hunched shoulders and hearing Frodo's approving noises he remembers, why, yes, he is very good at this after all.

"You're my Merry," Frodo said once they'd drawn apart. "You are not in any way average or mediocre. You are, however, young. And you've not had your willy up another lad's bum before, or vice versa, and that's something that's difficult to imagine unless you've actually experienced it."

"I just can't imagine how it wouldn't hurt," Merry admitted.

Frodo nodded, understanding. "There are ways of making it easier."

"I've heard," Merry said quickly. "I know they say that… oil. And… with their fingers. But honestly, Frodo, how could it…?"

"I know, I know. Listen, it's not something we have to do or even to talk about right now if you'd rather not. But if you do want it, you should try the other way first."

"The--?"

"The top, as they say. I've done both and I know I can handle it. I also know for certain that you won't hurt me. And perhaps if you see that you don't, it'll be a little easier to believe that I won't hurt you either."

"I know you wouldn't."

"Sure, you know it in your head. But I want you to feel it as well. If you're interested, that is."

"I am!"

"So."

"Just so, yes."

"And then I."

"Yes, just like that."

Merry agrees. He'd decided some minutes ago that Frodo's shoulders and neck were sufficiently relaxed, so he'd moved down along his sides, sometimes sliding around to play with the hair under his arms, to brush over a nipple or to tickle his stomach... but yes, now he's settled down to massaging Frodo's backside, has been doing so for some time and could continue...

"Just like that," as Frodo put it, indefinitely. And yet.

"So, I should..."

"If you wanted to, um..."

"And if you, that is to say..."

"Yes, Merry?"

"Er, if you move your legs apart a bit."

"Like this?"

Oh yes. "And your hips forward."

"And up, I think," Frodo suggests even as he moves.

"Yes. Er, thank you."

Merry stops moving again.

Another minute or two goes by and Frodo says, "I don't think you've used up all the oil."

"Oh, no."

"Well, and if you meant to massage my muscles..."

"Yes?"

"...There are these other ones, you see, that really, er..."

"Right."

"...Wouldn't mind the attention."

Go on, it's not so strange, Merry tells himself. It's not as if you haven't touched him there before.

"Sometimes I tease you here, yes?" Frodo's hand cupped Merry's buttock, his fingers brushing just outside the cleft.

"Yes."

"And you do the same to me, sometimes. You don't mind it."

"No!"

"How does it feel?" And a gentle squeeze spread Merry's cheeks a fraction of an inch further apart. "Do you think you could put words to it?"

"It makes me feel... nervous, just a bit, though I know you wouldn't, without asking. And it feels exciting at the same time." And Frodo's finger moved closer the opening, tugged him another tiny bit, open. "Good," on very little breath, "of course, to have you touching me anywhere. And it... yes, exciting to think about you going further."

"I wouldn't without asking, I'm glad you know that." And he withdrew, rested on forearms and elbows, and licked lightly at the inside of Merry's thigh for a few moments. "But if I did ask..."

"Are you... now?"

"Not for that, as you put it, but." Licked closer to where Merry really wanted him to be.

"We could... try it," said Merry. "Try something. If it hurts I can just tell you, and you'll stop."

"Of course."

"Well then, I think, yes."

"Yesssss."

"I still don't see how..."

"Ssssssssh."

Merry isn't sure whether that was a hush or a hiss, but decides that in either case he would do best to keep at his task rather than blather on about his misgivings. So he concentrates on massaging, just as he did with the shoulders and the neck and the buttocks, only, well, he hadn't had any idea of what tight muscles were before this. He has very little notion of which way is the right way, and can only guide himself by Frodo's still somewhat enigmatic noises.

He thinks of all the times he's slept with his head on Frodo's chest, listening to his heartbeat, how thrilling and comforting it's always been, and how very dull it seems now, compared to the feel of Frodo's pulse in the muscles of his arse as Merry slowly, hesitantly, move his oil-slick finger in and out.

He still can't see how it will be possible for him to get more than one finger in so small an opening, or how a person could enjoy such a thing, but Frodo quite obviously is enjoying this and wanting a good deal more, and that's what's most important.

"As long as you're comfortable like this," said Frodo, "on your back, and with your goods all laid out so nicely for me..."

Not all laid out, Merry thought, more like standing on end, some of them, but he didn't interrupt.

"...I may as well take advantage, take a taste."

Then finally he licked where Merry wanted him to lick, simple and straight and strong up from Merry's stones to the tip, and took it in his mouth, and looked Merry in the eyes as he sucked. And much to Merry's dismay he pulled off immediately when Merry let out the scream he couldn't possibly hold in.

"Is that a protest, dear?" he said sweetly. "Did you want me to stop?"

"I'll tell you with words," Merry gritted between his teeth, while his hips did protest, jerked up to poke Frodo in the chin with his hardness, and Frodo only laughed.

"Try to stay still then," he advised, before setting back to work.

And Merry tried, but it was difficult, and Frodo had to restrain him by shifting some of his weight onto his hands, heavy on top of Merry's hips. And Merry found he rather liked being held down.

"Stay still, Frodo," though actually the way Frodo moves is as useful a guide to him as anything else.

"Could you... deeper? Please?" Frodo's words match his movements, the way he keeps trying to push his hips even higher and back, to let Merry touch him in that particular place they've talked about.

But he really can't reach it, not with just one finger. So.

"Half a moment!"

Merry tries to sound confident and commanding, even though the way Frodo's arse clenches around his finger frightens him a little, and the way Frodo moans when Merry pulls out frightens him a little more. "Patience, cousin," as he pours more oil on his hand, lets it drip down two fingers, and teases his way back toward Frodo's hole.

"No," Frodo complains happily, "no patience, no time, Merry, I need you to..."

He'd been slow and hesitant with the first finger, feeling and listening carefully for any discomfort on Frodo's part. But now that he has Frodo begging underneath him he pushes in quickly, and smiles to hear him moan again, louder. He marvels at a sound so frightening and so delicious at once.

"Yes, Frodo? Is this what you need?"

"Yes."

Merry grabbed Frodo's hand, light and steady as he might. "You can do what you like, really. I'll just... stay here."

And Frodo, who couldn't very well speak, squeezed Merry's hand and pressed his lips tight around the head of Merry's cock. Merry took that as agreement and at the same time found himself breaking the deal, since he really couldn't stay still if Frodo was going to do things like that.

Still Frodo held Merry down with one arm, allowing him just a little movement, and moved with him, and let the fingers of his other hand twist in Merry's short dark curls, then inch up along his shaft (and Merry balled his fists and pressed hard against the bed), sneak under his lips to share the warm and the wet of his mouth with Merry's hard cock. The wet, yes, as the fingers slipped out and traced around behind Merry's balls just as he felt them tighten, fingers all the time sliding gentle but sure just as his tongue caressed Merry's cock, and when the spit-wet finger pressed inside Merry was done for, let his mind go and let his seed spill thick and hot into Frodo's mouth.

Merry moves slow and sure, just as Frodo's always been with him, but at some point Merry's erection knocks against Frodo's thigh and Frodo laughs out loud, though there's something of a gasp in the laugh and in the words, "As if you weren't interested in getting on with it yourself!"

And Merry, rather than dissemble, presses in close, lets him feel it against his leg. With his free hand he reaches around to take hold of Frodo's cock, but Frodo shifts his weight back to his knees and pushes Merry's hand away. "See to your own," he says

So Merry pulls away from Frodo for the moment, reaches once more for the flask of oil, and covers his own length with it as Frodo begins stroking himself.

The smooth pressure gripping Merry's cock when he pushes in is so strong as to make him a little dizzy and quite oblivious to all the rest of the world, so that he's halfway in already when he suddenly remembers to ask, "Frodo! Is this all right?"

"Move," says Frodo, and Merry pushes in, since he couldn't stand to move back. When balls touch buttocks Frodo shoves himself forward and says, "Again."

Merry was content to lie still for some time, until he came back to himself and realized that Frodo was on top of him, nipping at his ear and humping against his leg. And while Frodo looked beautiful in almost any position or circumstance, Merry decided this was simply not acceptable.

"None of that!" he shouted, and shimmied down on the bed under Frodo until he could take him in his mouth in turn. He felt a little helpless lying underneath him like that, knowing he wouldn't be able to pull away. But Frodo was gentle even in his need, and Merry found he did not want to move away. In a very little while Frodo was spilling his mouth, and for the very first time Merry was able to swallow it all, then lick his lips and smile up at him.

After that they came to face one another again, and rolled around in each other's arms and laughed and kissed and talked. "In no way average or mediocre," said Frodo. "And you're learning new things all the time."

"No one ever had a better teacher."

And Frodo laughed again. "I can't get enough of you, my dear Merry."

And after that it's easy, even as it's still shockingly intense and strange. Merry pumps his hips as Frodo pumps his hand, and somehow it all comes together like music. The clench of Frodo's arse as he comes sends Merry over the edge as well, and it feels to Merry like falling into a void, but the scream is also like singing.

Merry doesn't think to pull out until Frodo collapses under him, and when he crawls off he finds his legs don't work the same way they used to. Shakily, he moves to lie down at Frodo's side, wondering if his heart will work as it always has, until he feels Frodo's arms around him, safe and warm and loving, and knows the answer is yes.

"Do you believe me now," says Frodo, "when I say this can be good for both?"

"Oh yes," says Merry, "but I do think I like the part I did tonight."

Frodo smiles indulgently. "Right then. You'll try both at some point, but we've time enough to try all sorts of things. As for tonight, I liked the things you did as well, very much so. Now kiss me, please."

And he does.



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Comments

[sophinisba]

Merry is indeed very lucky. Sometimes I want to write something more realistic or more disturbing, but sometimes I just go for plain old wish-fulfillment, and that's what this was about. Thanks for commenting, love. *hugs*