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“Ouch, Sam! Touch it gently!”
A smirk formed on Sam’s lips as he continued to rub cold water and black tea on Frodo’s red shoulders. It amused Sam, how Frodo was only ever snappy when he had to pay for the consequences of his own actions, this time being a deep sunburn all over his back after he fell asleep by the river.
“Alright, darling, I’m going as gentle as I can. Any lighter and I’ll only be grazing you.”
“Then only graze; it feels as if you’re skinning me alive.” Frodo said in his now agitated voice. He sat with his knees pressed to his chest and his arms surrounding them, his chin on his knee as he stared out the window.
“Well, I suppose you shouldn’t have fallen asleep under the sun, hmm? Then I wouldn't have to touch you at all.”
Frodo snapped his head around and wore his best pout, to which Sam grinned and placed a kiss against Frodo’s temple. Sam continued to gently smother his homemade sunburn remedies along Frodo’s back and shoulders. Once a slick sheen coated the redness, Sam instructed Frodo to turn around and face him.
“Even your chest too? How did you manage to sleep like that, tossing and turning in the grass?” Sam couldn’t help but tease as he coated a washcloth in cold water again.
“I don’t need your comments, Samwise.” Frodo added, purposefully avoiding his partner’s gaze.
“My apologies, Mr. Frodo.”
Frodo frowned and shifted his eyes to Sam’s own. After officially getting together, Frodo told Sam to never speak as if the two weren’t equals. Frodo always hated it, how for so many years Sam felt as though he needed to refer to Frodo as if he were above him, purely because he worked for Frodo and Bilbo during the summer months. Frodo never saw Sam as someone who worked for him; Sam was always his friend, now lover, before anything else, but Sam was too formal with proprieties. Sam, of course, knew this very well and never referred to his lover as “Mr.” anything, except for when he was teasing. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, Frodo was in such a mood that he didn’t realize Sam was still playing around, and began to feel a pit of guilt growing in his abdomen.
“Sam, come on, I didn’t mean to be bossy. I’m sorry.”
Sam couldn’t help but chuckle, and gave Frodo a gentle kiss, this time to his lips, before caressing Frodo’s chest with cool water. “I know, darling, I’m only teasing. It’s not often I get to.”
“It was stupid of me, the sun just felt so good by the water.”
“I can hardly blame you, if I didn’t have to cultivate Fatty’s back garden, I would have slept right beside you.”
“That would have been nice— Ouch, Sam!”
Sam moved the washcloth away from a particularly burnt area on Frodo’s side and gave him an apologetic look. “I’m trying to be careful, really, you’ve just got it bad around here.”
“I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”
“Stop apologizing, I understand,” Sam chuckled, “but I forgive you, if that makes you feel better.”
“It does.” Frodo smiled.
Sam continued to delicately rub Frodo’s burnt skin with the cold water and black tea. They sat in a comfortable silence while Sam worked away, only interrupted when Frodo would wince after a specific spot was touched a bit too deeply. After all was finished up, Sam stood and dumped out the bucket of cool water, along with the cold pot of tea, and shut the curtains to keep any warmth out. Frodo kept sitting on the floor, just watching, until he finally decided that he could get up and face the slight pain of his burnt body moving.
“Where are you going?” Frodo asked as Sam opened the front door.
“Back to work, darling, I came home for your little emergency, but I’ve still got lots to do for the Bolger’s. I’ll be home for supper. The curtains are shut, so it should stay cool in here for you.”
“You have to go?”
Sam grinned. “Well, I don’t think Fatty would be very happy with me if I never came back. It’ll only be a few hours.”
“Can’t it wait ten more minutes?” Frodo asked as he draped his arms around Sam’s shoulders. He was met with Sam resting his hands on his waist.
“Oh, what’s this now? Feeling bad about giving me attitude earlier?” Sam teased.
“Oh, come on, I’m not allowed to want to spend time with you?” Frodo teased back.
“A few hours, that’s all I’ll be, unless you have another dangerous emergency that needs my tending.”
“Can’t you tell him that I broke my legs or something? I want to be with you, and I’m all burnt, I can’t be alone. It’s very dangerous you know.”
Sam laughed. “Dangerous, is it? Well, I’ll have to tell Fatty that his garden must wait until the morning. Can you at least allow me to go and do that?”
Frodo nodded while he kissed Sam’s lips, half with love and half with thankfulness. “Yes, I can wait, I suppose.”
“Good. Go lay down, darling, if I’m going to tell Fatty that you’re extremely ill, you’d better look the part. I’ll be back within twenty minutes.”
“Okay, okay, I will.” Frodo smiled.
Sam watched as Frodo walked to the couch and laid down carefully, hissing softly when his red back met the fabric. He couldn’t deny Frodo anything, even if it meant telling a little white lie to get off work.