Elijah's annoyance at being greeted by a silent house when he returned from the gym quickly melted into mischief upon viewing what waited for him in the back yard.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Sean did not move. "Reevaluating my stock portfolio, searching for a more secure return on my investments. What does it look like I'm doing?"

Standing back a bit, Elijah studied the picture before him: Sean, elbows and knees on the ground, butt in the air, hands covered with watering can adorned gloves and shoved deep in the dirt. A trowel and small hoe sat beside to his left, a bag of something on the right. The neon yellow garden hose snaked around behind his out stretched feet.

"Giving head to a very, very small man."

"You've got a dirty mind, Mr. Wood."

Elijah giggled. "That's what keeps me young. What are you doing?"

Sean pushed up off his elbows and Elijah sighed. He really had enjoyed the view.

"Planting tulip bulbs, of course."

He peered into the hole. "Since when do you garden?"

"Since Hector's wife went into labor a month early," Sean answered, selecting a likely candidate from the tulip bag and placing it exactly as instructed. He sat back on his heels, dragging a glove across his face. "He made me promise to get these done right away, or there would be no tulips come spring."

"And we can't have that, can we?" Elijah brushed his thumb across his partner's cheek, wiping away a dirt smudge. "How long's this going to take? Need to talk to you 'bout something."

"As long as it takes." He turned his face and kissed Elijah's wrist. "Don't do no good to try and rush, Mr. Frodo. Things all happen in their time no matter how much the wishing. If you take my meaning."

Elijah smiled down, reminisces bringing a gentle tug to his heart. Sean rarely brought Sam out anymore, and Frodo missed him. "Well, just don't expect me to do any elvish translations while sitting under a tree mooning over my gardener and thinking up wild fantasies about what I want to do with his golden hobbit body."

Sean actually blushed. "Now, Mr. Frodo, Sir, not proper to be saying things like that."

"Fine. Then Mr. Elijah will lie down on the hammock thinking dirty thoughts about his lover until he's done playing in the dirt."

Sean pulled Elijah close, his head only reaching to the waist. "15 minute tops. Just couldn't let Hector leave his wife over bulbs and they'll add just the touch of color the yard needs. Thai?"

His fingers absently fell through Sean's hair. "Thinking Greek."

Turning, Sean lifted up Elijah's t-shirt, the one with the torn cuffs and lighter by three shades then when it had been 'borrowed' from Sean's closet, to paint small kisses across pale skin. "No ouzo."

"Five." He insisted on Sean's hands moving to a better spot then his waist. When he felt those broad hands squeeze his ass, Elijah purred.

"One." Tongue dipped in and out of Elijah's belly button.

"Three." He titled his hips into Sean's hot breath as it moved from belly southward.

"One." He used his chin to massage the growing bulge in Elijah's sweatpants, hands tracing the line in the back.

"Two." Fingers dug into Sean's shoulders and he arched into his touch.

"One." Sean's lips molded around the tip, exhaling.

Elijah forgot what he was negotiating for.

"But, that's only after I do this favor for Hector." Sean broke away from Elijah's crotch sending the younger man off balance. "Whoa! Steady there, Lij!"

Eyes still a bit unfocused with desire, Elijah tugged a handful of Sean's hair. "I hate you, you know."

"You, too, Lij, just as much. Let me finish here, OK?"

Elijah stepped back, righting his clothes. "Oh sure, leave me to go back to your very small man there."

Still slightly amazed that someone such as he could cause the flush of desire to pinken that perfect cheek, Sean said, "Yeah, well, he doesn't put the empty OJ carton back in the fridge."

"Just don't swallow, OK? Don't know where he's been."

Sean got off one good smack to Elijah's butt before the younger man skittered out of reach. "Filthy mind!"

"Everyone needs a hobby, Sean."

The hammock hung between two small, but growing maples in the corner of their yard. Not the place of young children anymore, more for friendly BBQ's and stargazing. The shade provided to the hammock's spot was perfect for the morning papers, Sunday afternoon naps and daily sunset admiring. The green canvas accepted Elijah's lean body. They had purchased the largest one available, one that two could lay beside, on top and under, in comfort and in style. Elijah grinned thinking about the look on the salesperson's face when two award-winning actors drew a crowd in the garden section by bouncing from floor model to floor model wanting to test them all and make an informed decision. The table and chairs on their deck bought out of guilt when he managed to flip one hammock taking out a whole army of garden gnomes.

Snatches of Sean's humming helped to create the mood of domestic bliss for Elijah as he snuggled deeper into the hammock. All their comparison-shopping had paid off. It had served the couple well over the past three months. Most evenings, when not answering the call of their chosen profession, would find him and Sean cuddled together under the maple branches and stars talking out the day, remembering fondly and planning their future. Of course, sometimes the talking stopped, the cuddling intensified and several times they had severely tested the strength of the hammock's stitching by taking pleasure in each other's company and bodies. Just last week, as a matter of fact. Elijah closed his eyes, cradling his head on his entwined fingers, remembering Tuesday the seventeenth. Sean had been in particularly rare form that night, insisting they wait until full dark, saying he wanted to watch Elijah come with the starlight in his eyes. Elijah's body tingled where his lover's hands had held him down, strong and determined, pinning him to the canvas while gently thrusting inwards, teasing Elijah's spot, mouth covering his, breathing for both of them, until the sweet agony of holding back became too much and his head had tilted back, Sean's name on his swollen lips, and he…

Elijah's eyes opened in surprise. Something had hit him, several somethings. Felt like rain pattering, but the sun shone enthusiastically in a cloudless sky. Perhaps it came from the tree. He looked up, disturbed by the thought of nesting birds crapping on him. His t-shirt showed no evidence of bird poop, though. Sean still worked diligently, back to the knees and elbow position. That put his ass in the air and Elijah's cock sprang to life when it remembered the last time it had enjoyed that same view.

Elijah loved their sex life, robust and inventive on one hand, always tender and meaningful on the other. Most times they made love, reveling in the joining of not only two bodies, but two souls as well. Elijah was a bottom, something that Sean accepted with ease. Every once in a while, however, when desire turned into lust, and making love became sex, he and Sean fucked. And occasionally when they fucked, Sean became the bottom.

Elijah turned on his side, pressing his now fully aroused crotch into the hammock. The stiff fabric gave him the unyielding touch he needed. The third of last month a combination of two bottles of zinfandel, the aroma of shrimp scampi from dinner, the Dodgers winning the pennant, warm sheets from the dryer, Stan Getz on the CD player and Sean in his 'America Reads!' t-shirt and cut off baggy shorts had sent Elijah over the edge. He wanted to fuck Sean until they both walked crooked for a week. The wine, shrimp, baseball, jazz, bed and Elijah's burning eyes through his glasses had Sean joining his lover teetering on the brink. The mental picture of Sean's sweat drenched skin under his fevered hands had Elijah clutching the side of the hammock. Hips hitting bare ass mixing with Sean's shouts for more. Elijah's eyes drifted shut, body taking up the rhythm of the memory. Sean's back bearing the marks of my lust, bent over the filled body, teeth leaving red dots along those shoulders. Raspy gasps caught in Sean's throat when my hand leaves one hip to grasp his throbbing cock and work it almost cruelly. My own throat rasps out, "Mine!" Drill, one more thrust, one more, one more, Sean's screaming, coming, clenching, one more, one…brilliant light behind eyes, one…muscles clench, and it begins…

Elijah frowned this time. This was twice now his naughty day dreams had been interrupted by something sprinkling against his body. A quick check confirmed still not either rain or birds. Something else, then. Sean had moved closer, only on his knees now, brushing a sleeve across his sweaty brow. In the cavern of the hammock made by Elijah's body he noticed dirt. Fastidiously clean about everything, Sean would never allow their place to hold dirt, so it hadn't been there when Elijah lay down. When talking and other things with his partner earlier, Elijah had not stepped in the dirt where Sean worked, hadn't tracked it crossing the lawn from where Sean knelt, his hands in the dirt. Wait a minute. Sean…hands…dirt.

You die, Astin!

Read Part 2 of 6