The two hobbits lay on the meadow grass and looked upwards.

There seemed no need for words just then. The sound of birds and the chatter of the river nearby was accompaniment enough for their thoughts. The slight breeze was enough to send the clouds moving across the sky but all that lay behind those clouds was a blue that defied description.

It was a spring day. Not the first spring day when hobbits usually spent their time marvelling at the fact that buds had appeared almost overnight and then arguing who had seen the first. It was the first week when hobbitfolk eyed the depths of their smials and resolved to clean everything to within an inch of its life. So much beating of rugs, some said there was a danger of the Farthing disappearing under clouds of dust. Those that had windows polished them till they sparkled. Even the birds found such brightness a distraction. Brooms, buckets and mops were used with energy and at times enthusiasm. It was expected. It was tradition.

It was something both Frodo and Merry loathed.

“I think I scandalised Sam. He asked me if I needed his help last night.”

“You did? Didn’t think you needed help, cousin. Not in that department…”

“Meriadoc Brandybuck, I am shocked.”

“You must be the only hobbit in the whole of the Four Farthings who is. Thought you’d be used to me by now.”

Frodo chuckled. Merry’s quick wit both amused him and irritated him by degrees, usually dependent on whether Merry had judged the moment correctly. Frodo recalled Sam’s face when Frodo had given him the news.

You aren’t botherin’? No spring cleanin? But, Mr Frodo, it’s not done. I mean, every hobbit has his home cleaned out and right as ninepence for Spring. Maybe it’s not right for gentlehobbits like yourself to bother themselves too much over the details but if you leave it to me, I’ll see it’s spick and span in no time.

No, Sam, I mean exactly what I say. Bag End is just how I like it and last year, spring cleaning caused so much trouble, I vowed there’d be no more. I never use all the rooms here and besides, when guests come, the place is sparkling, thanks to you. No spring cleaning and that is that. No, Sam, no more protests…

“I told him I wanted Bag End to be left alone. No spring cleaning.”

Merry laughed out loud. “You do realise how that will travel amongst the gossipers? I lay odds on it will reach Brandy Hall within a day!”

“Talking of which, how did you manage to get so far from home without being handed a broom? I can’t imagine your family letting you escape. From what I remember, they like everyone to do their part.”

“Ummm…I…used my wits….and said you needed me! You were going to sort out all Bilbo’s papers in his study, something you would want to be kept within the family and you’d asked me ages ago…and I’d forgotten to tell them.” There was hesitancy in Merry’s voice as if the telling of his ‘cleverness’ was going to have consequences he had already anticipated.

“Merry! You lied? You used my name to lie? Goodness knows what they think of me being so discourteous and a party to your disobedience.” Frodo didn’t mean it to sound so harsh but Merry was old enough to be shouldering his blame on his own. The name of Baggins was disreputable enough without Merry’s help.

Merry rolled away from him, ostensibly regarding a small ladybird busy climbing a blade of grass. Frodo could see by the set of his shoulders that his rebuke had been unnecessary. Merry was feeling guilty.

Frodo reached out to touch him but Merry pushed his hand away before it had time to make any contact.

“It was the first thing that came to me…and now you’re angry too.”

“No, I’m not angry. I hate to see your reputation brought down to the level of tavern gossip. Meriadoc Brandybuck always goes his own way, there’s no relying on that one…it’s one thing to have a rumour floating round the Shire about you but quite another to confirm that rumour. You’ll have duties and responsibilities one day and people relying on you for their livelihoods so your reputation will be important.”

“And yours is not?”

Frodo nodded. “Mine is not…well, only to me. I hear them talking about the way I behave. My walks, my knowledge of Elvish, Gandalf’s visits. Yet I know they speak from ignorance and a desire to know more. If I choose not to care, so be it. They can talk until the moon turns blue. I will do what I will. But you…you have a life you will inherit and there’s no going away from that.”

“You sound like my parents. I expected more from you, Frodo.” Merry flicked the blade of grass with his finger and the startled ladybird flew away. He got up and without a backward glance began to retrace his steps towards the river bank, kicking out at unseen clumps of grass as he passed. Clods flew up in the air and Frodo, sitting up to watch where Merry went, tried not to smile. Merry’s moods were lightning quick, hot at first but soon forgotten. He’d remember what had been said though even if he’d never admit it to Frodo.

From the sound of it, Merry was clearing away their picnic and seeing to the fishing lines. Frodo, reluctantly deciding he couldn’t leave it all to his cousin, made his way to their fishing spot. It had been a wonderful idea. Together, early in the morning, laughing and joking, with each one trying to outdo the other once their lines were in place. Merry had had to teach Frodo ‘all the tricks of a real fisherman’ as he called it but Frodo couldn’t see what the fuss was about. He did like the way Merry’s tongue appeared when he was concentrating and he appreciated the stillness when all a hobbit was supposed to do was stare at the line and will the fish to bite –at least that’s how it appeared to him - because then Frodo could take the time to watch Merry. It was one of his favourite pastimes. That, and undressing Merry. He couldn’t forget having sex with Merry either, that ranked very high up in his Merry appreciation list. Waking up next to Merry was there too.

There had been no fish that morning much to Merry’s disappointment but Frodo had had a wonderfully indulgent amount of Merry watching. The trouble was he had been hoping it would lead to more than merely watching. Even when they were hungrily munching their way through bread and cheese and quenching their thirst with the clear spring water, Frodo had tried to catch Merry’s eye to indicate that if Merry wanted to catch more than fish, here was a hobbit more than willing and able. Merry had been oblivious, no doubt relieved he was here with Frodo rather than polishing away the endless sticky finger marks in Brandy Hall.

Now it appeared that all Frodo’s hopes would come to naught. Merry was out of sorts and Frodo hadn’t helped.

Merry looked up at his cousin’s approach with a chin that was set, and arms akimbo. Packing up had not given him the satisfaction he’d expected. If truth were told, he liked to be out with Frodo and going back was not what he’d wanted at all. Frodo should have stopped him and taken back the admonishment…even if the words had been true.

“I can be obedient, you know,” he said stubbornly. “If I want to be.”

Frodo nodded. “So I’ve heard.”

“It depends on who is doing the asking. If it’s agreeable to me. That sort of thing.” Merry realised that made him sound quite spoilt and from Frodo’s raised eyebrows, his cousin thought the same. “I can be obedient, I’m telling you!”

His emphasis didn’t have the effect he wanted. Instead of agreeing, Frodo was trying not to laugh. “If you say so, dear cousin.”

If he said so? Merry did not like the thought that perhaps Frodo thought less of him than before. It mattered beyond words what Frodo thought.

“No, I can do as I’m told as much as the next hobbit! Tell me what to do, command me and I’ll do it.”

“Goodness, Merry, what’s got into you? I was concerned, that was all, and I should have held my advice until another time. Now, I’ve spoilt our day together and I’m sorry.”

Merry frowned. Frodo had the uncanny ability to disarm him with his honesty. It still rankled, though. Mainly because he knew Frodo was right. Merry knew what life held for him. He just wasn’t in a great hurry to get to it.

Frodo took a step forward and held out his hand. “Come on, walk with me and get these notions out of your head. I’m not sure I could cope with the rest of the day filled with you cartwheeling about looking for things to prove your obedience…”

No sooner had he paused for breath than Merry proceeded to run like a hobbit possessed, across the meadow, then flip and there he was cartwheeling amongst the grass as if he was in his tweens. Four, five, six, seven until Frodo was dizzy looking at him. Finally, Merry came to a halt, panting for breath, flushed with the effort.

“What…was that?” Frodo was aware that the day seemed to be getting warmer or perhaps he was and that was no surprise given that Merry’s breathing reminded him of what could be happening and that flush upon his cheeks and throat…Frodo groaned. Of all the times for Merry to play the foolish hobbit…

“You said ‘cartwheel’ and I did. Now we walk.” Without further ado, Merry grasped Frodo’s wrist and marched across the nearby bridge. Frodo didn’t know whether to yell in protest or discomfort. Part of him was remembering what usually happened when he and Merry spent time together and that part was waking up and no mistake about it. With a sudden determination he halted in his tracks, his hand gripping Merry’s arm in turn and pulling the wayward hobbit towards him.

“Fro…” but Merry had no chance to say more because Frodo’s mouth was on his and they slipped into that easy stance where their bodies fit together and their arms held onto each other and all the world went by without them knowing.

Pausing to breathe, Frodo decided enough was enough. He pushed Merry back so he could look at him.

“I’m hoping this day will end with acrobatics of a different sort so I’m off to find a secluded spot where I can enjoy time with my favourite cousin. I’d like that favourite cousin to be of similar mind. If he is, I hope he follows me.”

With that, he set off, walking quickly in the direction of the cluster of trees he could see at the top of a short rise.

“Is that a command?” Merry shouted after him, wickedly, knowing he was pushing his luck somewhat.

Frodo bit back a reply. Sometimes Merry was plainly incorrigible.

The clump of trees hid a perfectly sheltered spot. The trees themselves were old and had long branches that swept from trunk down to the floor in some cases or intertwined with others to form twisted wooden arms that were forever locked in each other’s embrace. The sun was warm and the breeze was gentle. It was perfect.

Frodo flopped down onto the grass and waited for Merry to catch him up. It didn’t take long. Merry arrived as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He whistled in admiration at the scenery around him and strolled over to a particularly fine specimen and patted it.

“Look at these trees!”

There was a cough behind him. Almost polite but with an edge of impatience. “I’d rather be looking at something else other than trees…”

Merry grinned. He loved the way Frodo let his guard down when they were alone together. Most hobbits thought Frodo to be too bookish, too fey, too unhobbity for their liking. There again, they’d not seen Frodo with a fire in his eyes as he touched his Merry, nor seen the need in him, so strong that the very bed seemed sure to break with all the movements and entanglings. As for Frodo outside and alone with him…the very thought made the tips of Merry’s ears pink in remembrance.

“Am I meant to take that as a request for the removal of my clothing?” Merry made sure his eyes were wide and his expression as innocent as it could possibly be.

“Merry…” and the growl from the depths of Frodo’s throat thrilled his cousin so much it was as if his hands had wings as they flew from button to fastening. In moments, there was a not so neat pile of clothing at the base of a tree and a very naked Meriadoc Brandybuck leaning back carelessly against the low branch, his elbows resting on it. The branch was thick enough to support him and the position allowed his body to be displayed to its advantage.

Frodo eyed him suspiciously and began to remove his clothing, acutely aware of how Merry’s gaze followed his every movement. It thrilled him to know Merry wanted him and indeed from the way his shaft rose as he watched, it was plain that he did. Before he was completely naked, Merry’s hand had fallen to his groin and was stroking, almost lazily. “You are beautiful to me, Frodo.”

Such compliments always made him shiver. Something about the way Merry said them, his voice soft yet urgent, wanting Frodo to know that this was something more than a mere coupling.

“Will you come here? I swear you’d sooner climb that tree than lie with me…” and as soon as he said the words Frodo knew what would happen. Quick as a flash of sunlight Merry was up the tree balancing precariously.

“Merry, come down, now! Enough of this foolishness. I swear, you are enough to drive a hobbit to the edge of madness. Merry!” Frodo wished his voice could sound a little less imploring and a little more demanding. He looked down. His body was displaying its desire in all its glory.

“I can’t come down unless you command me. I’m a disobedient hobbit who knows no better and there’s no going away from that. My future life depends on it. You said so.”

Frodo stared at him open mouthed. Part of him was trying to work out what Merry was trying to do and part of him wanted to shake the tree so hard Merry would finally come to his senses.

“What do you want from me? I have to beg, is that it?” His voice was sharper now, tinged with the frustration he was feeling in his groin. Merry had noticed because whatever he was about to say died away.

“Order me to come down. Then I can prove my obedience to your wishes.”

A spark of sudden anger surprised Frodo. It came from nowhere and astonished him. “Get down Merry, right now before I find my clothes and leave you here for the fool you’ve become.”

Merry obeyed quickly, balancing along the branch that reached down to the floor, realising that yet again he might have gone too far. He was careful but not careful enough, for almost three quarters of the way down he slipped. He gave a sharp cry as his hip bone grazed the branch, a fiery burning sensation letting him know he had not escaped untouched. It stung fiercely and he knelt on the ground, arms outstretched, clinging onto the very bark that had marked him. His eyes filled up but he did not look back. He didn’t want to see Frodo’s exasperated look. The fool you’ve become. Once again, Frodo was right. He needed to stop playing these stupid games.

The warmth of a body pressed up to him was startling. Frodo’s breath upon his neck, his cool hand across the reddened and scoured skin.

“My poor Merry…are you all right?”

Merry relaxed into his beloved cousin’s touch. A hand moved to rub the back of his neck and Merry practically purred. Soon, the burning skin was a secondary consideration as Frodo shifted to his side and stroked his arm from the shoulder down, following it with kisses. Merry closed his eyes.

“Dearest Merry, such an obedient hobbit…” and there was a scrabbling around his wrists which he didn’t understand but by the time he looked up and focused on what Frodo had done, he was well and truly held fast. There, round his wrists and the branch were his braces, so quickly discarded and so quickly picked up by his devious lover.

“Frodo? You have…what is…why? ” There were no words he could say coherently that expressed his puzzlement.

“I think this is probably the only way I can make sure you stay in one place…unless you can promise me otherwise.” Frodo had ducked under the branch at its highest point and now knelt opposite.

Merry pulled on his bindings to test them, hauling himself up until he could kneel more upright. “I’m not promising anything…wait till I get my hands on you, Frodo Baggins…” The braces were quite expertly tied.

“I think you’ll have to wait for that…my hands have first claim…” Merry gasped as Frodo came closer, leaned over the branch and kissed him hard, forcing Merry’s mouth open. Frodo’s fingers found their way to a pair of already sensitive nipples and tweaked hard. Merry gasped but it was swallowed by as deep a kiss as he’d ever received. Senses reeling, Merry began to return the kiss but there was no one there. Frodo had moved once more and Merry couldn’t find the purchase to wriggle round to find him. He shuffled back until his arms were stretched and his back arched but trying to look between his arms and body was useless. Frodo was nowhere he could see.

The silence stretched. Merry could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

Had Frodo left him here alone?

Frodo was amazed that he had done this. Tied Merry to a tree –well, a branch which was almost a tree- and was about to act out one of his wildest fantasies. It felt unreal yet the curve of Merry’s back and the way it dipped into the place that welcomed and held him…that was real enough. Longing swept over him and he stepped forward, into Merry’s line of sight, into Merry’s relieved ‘Oh, Frodo…’ and knelt behind the hobbit he loved. Kissing along Merry’s backbone, he stroked along strong thighs and reached round to grasp the hardness that fitted his hand so well.

Merry bucked, trying to obtain some friction but Frodo stilled him with a sharp nip. Merry obeying him and that thrilled him and made him strangely uncomfortable at the same time. A fleeting thought wondered why this was so but then it vanished like a will’o’the wisp, flung who knew where by Merry’s groan as he shuddered to control himself until Frodo gave his permission.

“My obedient hobbit…” Frodo whispered as Merry’s head dropped, hearing Merry’s breathing calming, slowing until Frodo smiled and licked his skin, tracing a line of wet hunger down and down, closer to his fantasy, closer to that barrier he’d dreamed of crossing.

Merry whimpered as Frodo’s thumbs massaged the puckered skin, teasing and promising much, and finally pushing apart firm buttocks so he could touch and taste. His tongue lapped warily at first but at the sound of Merry’s ragged cries, he grew bolder, his tongue searching past the muscle to the most intimate of places. Merry cried out then, a wail of someone at the edge of reason and the branch creaked but Frodo didn’t care. He was swept up with the joy of possessing his Merry like no other, the musky smell and taste exciting him and before he knew it he was kneeling and thrusting deeper and deeper until he spilled his seed, one hand making indented finger marks of ownership while the other pulled at Merry’s straining body until the friction proved too much. Merry arched, coming suddenly, his voice crying out words of babbling nonsense.

With a final thrust, Frodo collapsed on Merry’s back, spent, and the branch gave way. They tumbled forwards onto grass but it was too small a distance for any hurt. Frodo hurriedly untied Merry’s arms and tried to rub some life back into them. Merry sat back against the tree trunk, dazed and boneless.

Frodo remembered how to crawl and managed to do so, to lean against Merry’s side.

It was a while before either of them could speak.

“Was that how you wanted it?” Merry’s fingers played with Frodo’s, intertwining them one after another.

“Perfect. Thank you.” Frodo laughed softly. “I never realised how good an actor you are. Cartwheels! I never expected that.”

“It wasn’t as much acting as you think. Your words…they reached me. I never expected that.” Merry shook his head. “I suppose I am disobedient in some ways, not as much as dear Pippin but not so far off.”

“Part of your charm, I think.” Frodo touched Merry’s face and as Merry turned to acknowledge the touch, kissed him lovingly. As they parted, Frodo added, “I’m not so sure I’d like a virtuous hobbit to share my pleasure.”

“Obedience is a virtue, cousin. My mother often tells me so.”

“Only in the games I play, my dear Merry. And they do say virtue brings its own reward.”

“Games…as in more than once?” Merry looked around him. There were at least a dozen branches similar in shape to the one they had just broken. “For a gentlehobbit, you have great ambition.”

“Ah but to be an obedient hobbit you need more practice. I’m merely looking to your welfare.”

Frodo tried to look incredibly serious but met Merry’s sceptical look with a grin. “Any objections?”

Merry tried to give it some thought but truly could not think of any. He wondered about obedience and rewards and his skin began to tingle. Spring was just beginning. New life, new growth…and new pleasures with Frodo.

He sighed blissfully. “Not a single one.”

The End