NC-17 Frodo/Aragorn interspecies slash; part of the "As Middle Earth Turns" universe, actually. Written for the 200-word Hobbit Smut live journal community's "Celebrating the HEAT!" challenge.

 

The Night of the 25th
by Laura Mason

 

"There's frosting on your neck."

"Hope hugged-- oh! Don't-- Mmmm, oh, yes, again!"

Aragorn opened Frodo's trousers, enjoying the way he panted and writhed, legs trapped in the fabric when the hobbit wanted to spread them in invitation. His hand closed over Frodo's arousal as he finished removing dried sugar from his neck, mouth continuing down to the scarred shoulder to lick and kiss.

Aragorn always lavished love on the wounded parts of Frodo, and it was most appropriate to do so on this day. Without Frodo, without his scars, there would be nothing to celebrate.

"Please," Frodo pleaded, and Aragorn quickly removed his own clothing, letting Frodo's burning gaze arouse him to full hardness. He disposed of his love's clothes, the embroidered waistcoat and damp silk shirt crumpled from their kissing, the fine velvet trousers so coarse alongside Frodo's skin, all tossed to the floor in a heap as Frodo wantonly opened himself to be possessed, taken, and loved.

They made their own music, then, grunts and cries louder than the fiddlers in the courtyard far below. They climbed together, higher than the fireworks sent skyward in honor of another new year of freedom, to explode in joyous release.

 

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