Starved. He was starved. He could smell the food right under his nose, but all he could see was Frodo's luscious mouth, right in front of him. How long had it been since he had-- eaten? He hadn't eaten much since yesterday at lunch. Famished. But all he could see was that mouth. Merry tried hard to focus, but he was suddenly feeling quite light-headed.

Suddenly the mouth frowned. "Eat Merry -- NOW." It said.

He blinked as the plate he was holding was pushed up toward him and the fork in his hand aimed at a pile of roast pork.  So that was where the smell was coming from! Luckily Izzy's roast simply fell apart when approached by a fork and he managed to get some into his mouth. Once there, his taste buds finally woke up and his stomach groaned appreciatively.

Heavens. He was ravenous. Merry dug into the piles of luscious food with gusto and the light-headed feeling seemed to recede. Gradually, as he filled his very empty belly, Merry became aware of his surroundings.

There was something white beneath the plate. He thought it looked too far away to be the tablecloth. But he wasn't at the table, was he? He shook his head to clear it. It was a napkin being held carefully up under his plate and over his breeches. He looked up to find Frodo smiling at him, holding the napkin patiently.

"Better, love?"

"Frodo. You are here." Merry said, with his mouth full. He swallowed quickly looking down at the nearly empty plate. "I'm sorry. Did I grab your plate?" He tried to look apologetic as he looked back up.

Frodo smiled broader and shook his head. "No, love, that is your plate. You were just-- rather hungry."

"Starved more like. That poncy artist--"

Frodo shook his head slightly and Merry realized said poncy artist was holding a very full glass of wine and his fork at the same time, and glaring at Merry over his own heaping plate of food.

"That poncy artist is driving me right round the bend," he whispered.

"I could tell. But from what I hear, you are his captive today until he finishes that portrait for your mother." Frodo responded in a whisper. "Do you want seconds?" Then he rolled his eyes. "Why am I even asking?" Frodo tossed the napkin onto the table and grabbed a glass of wine, holding it out to Merry as he took the empty plate. "Take care not to drip any of that on yourself while I get you some more food, cousin," he said loudly.

"Indeed," Todo chimed in agreeably.

Merry restrained himself from glaring at the toff and applied himself to the wine -- the Hall's best. That proved it. Izzy was in love with the Bagginses -- both of them.

He took a large gulp of the wine as he watched Frodo quickly navigate the table full of food, filling another plate quickly. Merry was especially interested in the way that Frodo's jacket seemed to be hiked up in the back as he leaned over the sideboard to put the cover for the pork roast aside -- revealing a very nicely toned behind clad in dark blue wool. That was Merry's favourite part of his cousin -- well, next to his mouth-- and then there was his--

Hearing a noise from the toff's direction that distracted him, Merry looked over and nearly dropped his wine glass.

The ponce was leaning over staring, with rather obvious appreciation, at Frodo's arse.

Merry felt his face go hot as his blood went to an immediate boil. There was likely steam coming out of his ears.

"Did you say I had painted you before-- is it 'Frodo'?"

Frodo turned, looking over his shoulder, with his bum still in the air -- and batted his eyelashes at the twit! Merry's mouth dropped open as he watched Todo twitch and spill some of his wine on his smock in reaction.

"No. I believe I would remember an experience like that." Frodo said slowly as he straightened. "And you would as well."

Frodo batted his eyelashes again and smiled -- coyly! Merry watched in amazement. This wasn't his cousin. This was some other creature blatantly flirting, like some lass, with Todo Bunce!

Merry felt his stomach heave a bit. The very concept of Frodo Baggins behaving like some lass was so incongruous as to make him lose that marvellous luncheon he had just devoured, but to see his cousin flirting with the biggest fop in the Shire was just disgusting! Undoubtedly Todo had no recollection whatsoever of Frodo, or he would know just how far removed from reality this-- this creature really was!

Frodo strolled casually back over to Merry, holding out the plate.

"Please close your mouth, Merry." Frodo whispered, making an odd face at him. "You'll give it away."

Merry snapped his mouth shut and widened his eyes.

"Here, love. Eat up." Frodo held out the full plate.

Merry shook his head. "No, you go ahead. I need to let my stomach settle a bit." He whispered back, widening his eyes even more.

Frodo sat the plate down and covered it carefully with the napkin. Digging into the basket full of rolls, he buttered four quickly and handed two to Merry, putting two on his own plate. He grabbed plate and napkin and fork eagerly, and sat down to dig into his food. "I am absolutely famished, after hunting for you half the morning. Is the wine delicious as usual?" He scooped up his glass and drank without waiting for an answer.

"You-- you just-- What did you just do?" Merry whispered, motioning with his head toward the artist, who was still shoving food in his mouth.

Frodo glanced back in the direction of Todo, smiling evilly. "Just a bit of tormenting," he whispered. "As promised."

Frodo waggled his eyebrows as Merry had often seen Bilbo do and then winked, setting down his glass again and digging into the pork.

Merry bit into one of the rolls thoughtfully, then smiled. Perhaps the rest of this blasted sitting might not be so bad after all. And then there was this evening to look forward to. There was a nice warm feeling in his belly at the thought -- and it wasn't the wine.

"Oh, this is heavenly. Only Izzy can cook pork like this -- so succulent and juicy. It just shivers and falls apart when you touch it," Frodo said in an odd breathy voice.

Merry took a huge gulp of his wine as the tingling in his belly threatened to spread from the tips of his ears all the way down to his toes. He looked up in time to catch the artist staring at Frodo.

He looked back at Frodo. "You really are quite depraved you know," he whispered.

Frodo looked up from his food and smiled. "I know," he whispered back.

"Eat up, cousin. For I am certain that soon Mister Bunce will need to focus his worthy attentions above your waist rather than just below it," Frodo said.

Merry felt that one all the way to his toes, and he enjoying seeing Todo shudder, but he wasn't sure how he was going to feel if Frodo kept this up all afternoon. The breeches were rather tight in certain spots already. Shaking his head, Merry set about finishing off the rolls, drinking down the wine, and giving the seconds a decent go. He noticed when Todo stood and returned to putter behind his canvas.

Frodo leaned over and grabbed the wine bottle, refilling Merry's glass hastily and handing him a roll from his own plate. "Drink up, love. I want you to be good and relaxed while Mister Bunce has his way with you this afternoon," he exclaimed.

Something fell over behind the canvas and Merry nearly laughed out loud. Oh yes, this was going to be quite entertaining and he could tolerate a bit of discomfort just to see the idiot artist squirm on Frodo's hook. He ate the roll quickly and drank down the wine.

"We are losing the light!" Todo exclaimed dramatically.

Frodo put down his plate and stood, slowly taking Merry's glass and setting it aside.

Merry wondered how they could lose the light when it was mid-day.

Frodo leaned over him. "Do you need anything else, love?" he whispered, his hair brushing across Merry's ear.

Merry shivered and reached up to grasp Frodo's hand. "Just you."

Frodo turned Merry's hand over and bent until his mouth was a breath away from the palm. "You already have me." His lips touched lightly, sending a flush of warmth up Merry's arm. Then he turned and moved his chair slightly to sit back down, moving his glass and picking up his plate once more. Undoubtedly the food was cold by now, Merry suddenly realized, looking up to meet Frodo's knowing smile.

"I don't think that is quite right." Todo said. "Pull your shoulders back a bit. Are you looking at the proper spot on the wall?"

Merry knew he had the blasted pose memorized by now. His body fell into it by rote, but he suddenly realized that, where Frodo was seated, his head was exactly where Merry's spot on the wall had been. At that moment, Frodo turned his head and gazed at him.

It was clear that Frodo had placed the chair there on purpose when the expression on his face changed -- Frodo pulled up his chin and suddenly looked every bit the Master of Bag End personified. Merry found himself lifting his chin in response.

"Perfect! Perhaps Mister Baggins is a good influence," Todo declared.

Merry watched as Frodo's mouth quirked. Then Frodo winked at him and picked up his fork to finish his lunch. For a moment, Merry thought perhaps he might live through the afternoon.

But after just a few bites, Merry realized that he had never seen Frodo eat quite like this before. Frodo had always seemed to treat food as an interruption or accompaniment to something -- conversation, reading -- never the way he was treating this plate of food. Certainly Frodo's love for Izzy's cooking was well known -- actually infamous -- but the way that he was savouring every bite of this was different. Merry found himself fascinated with Frodo's mouth -- the way his lips closed deliberately over the fork, the way his tongue slipped slowly out to lick a bit of parsnip off his lip, the way he seemed to languidly study the food on the plate to find the best bit for his next forkful.

When Frodo leaned over to scoop up his glass, Merry almost shook his head to clear it, barely catching himself when he remembered at the last moment where he was and what he was doing. He was feeling decidedly flushed and warm -- and prickly.

Frodo lifted the glass in a silent toast toward Merry, smiling, then took a drink -- a rather sloppy drink which resulted in a drip skating down the side of the glass. Of course, Frodo slowly licked the side of the glass clean. And of course, he didn't take his eyes off of Merry as he did so. Merry shivered when he realized that there was a drop sliding down Frodo's chin as well. Frodo lifted a finger to his mouth and moistened it with his tongue, then slowly used it to trace the path of the wine from his chin back up to his lips. Holding his breath without realizing it, Merry watched as Frodo contemplated the finger for a moment, then slowly sucked it into his mouth.

It was then that Merry began to doubt whether he really was going to survive the afternoon.

***

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