Legolas glared across the campfire. Sam caught his gaze and gave him a dirty look, then turned and looked at Frodo and Aragorn together, looking respectively hurt and outraged. Legolas rolled his eyes at Sam's possessiveness, with no small element of self-chastisement given his own jealousy. It wasn't so much that Aragorn spent an excessive amount of time with the Hobbit or even the way he treated him as the Ring-Bearer. But those looks he gave him!

Mostly Legolas knew Aragorn was just doing his job, fulfilling his vow to protect the Ring-Bearer with his life. But part of him couldn't help but suspect that aside from Ranger and Ring-Bearer, there was something going on, if those looks that Aragorn kept giving the pink-cheeked young Hobbit were any indication.

Those looks were startlingly similar to the ones Aragorn had given Arwen fifty years ago, and frankly Legolas was tired of sharing. He had no intention of putting up with anything that wasn't directly tied to the purpose of providing an heir for a kingdom yet to be won. Besides, Legolas knew how Aragorn really felt about Arwen anyway - practical and sisterly but none of the passion that he felt for Legolas.

Which was why seeing that spark of something in Aragorn's eye as he looked at Frodo was seriously pissing him off.

As Legolas seethed across the fire, Aragorn got up and came over. He suggested they go hunt up some dinner and Legolas nodded his agreement. Silently, they made their way into the woods.

Silent until Aragorn stopped and asked in an annoyed tone, "What is wrong with you? Do you have bugs in your leggings? You've been glaring and Frodo and I for days now; he thinks you don't like him."

Legolas shrugged and made a face. "I don't like the way you look at him," he mumbled.

Aragorn blinked. "What?"

"I don't like the way you look at him," Legolas said, clearly enunciating every word.

Aragorn gave him an incredulous look. "A three thousand year old immortal is jealous of a tiny little Hobbit carrying the most dangerous weapon in the entire history of Middle Earth around his neck? Who I am simply trying to protect?"

When you put it like that, it did sound fairly ridiculous, Legolas realized.

"You don't think I'm interested in him, do you?" Aragorn asked, incredulous.

Legolas' cheeks colored.

"You do! By Elbereth! I can't believe you would think such a thing!"

Legolas stared hard at a tree. "He's very brave for one so small."

"He's three and a half feet tall."

Legolas shrugged again. "Passion knows no such restraints."

Aragorn's eyes got big. "Is there something you've not told me?"

"No, not at all," Legolas said quickly, avoiding his eyes.

Aragorn gave him a searching glare. He paused, then continued uncertainly, "Besides, he has hairy feet."

"I have pointy ears," Legolas noted.

"Pointy ears are a big turn-on for me," Aragorn grinned. "Hairy feet, not so much."

"Do you promise?" Legolas asked. They both laughed. Mollified, he moved in to wrap his arms around Aragorn's waist. "Maybe instead of finding dinner we could just have a quick fuck instead?" he suggested, a lusty spark in his eyes.

Aragorn grinned. "I didn't even bring my bow," he answered, pressing their bodies and mouths together as they tumbled eagerly to the ground.