Guest Room

by Poppy Underburrow

Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money here.

Author's note: Thanks to MF, BT, and LS.

In the autumn of 2957, just as the evenings were getting frosty, and all the hedgerows in the Shire were brightly adorned with hips and haws, a familiar rapping at the door of Bag End roused Bilbo from his reading.

The hobbit leapt up from his chair, scattering cushions and knocking over a footstool as he hurried to the door.

"Gandalf?" he asked as he pulled open his door.

He was correct. There in the faded blue and grey of the evening stood his dear friend, smiling down at him from under the brim of his hat, robe-hem and boots muddy from traveling many a long league of damp autumnal roads and paths.

"Gandalf!" Bilbo hugged the wizard enthusiastically, then tugged him inside Bag End and out of the chill evening air. He took the wizard's tall staff, resting it in the corner of the entry hall whilst Gandalf bent down to hang his hat on a peg.

"Come in! Come in!" Bilbo urged Gandalf along to the front parlor. Gandalf looked around the familiar unchanged comfort of the place, smiling.

"Dear Bilbo, it is so very good to see you!" Gandalf patted Bilbo on the shoulder, then took the chair Bilbo was urging him into, sitting with a small sigh and stretching his feet to the cozy fire.

Bilbo fussed about. First he unlaced and tugged off the wizard's muddy boots and set them to dry near (but not too near) the fire. (Hobbits might not wear boots, but Bilbo had certainly learned all about dealing with wet boots from a number of years of damp and muddy visitors. Too near to the fire and boots dried hard and uncomfortable by the morning.) He brought a basin of warm water and a cloth for Gandalf to clean his travel dirtied hands, and then fetched a simple repast of new brown bread, two sorts of cheese, a pair of apples (the small, tart, green ones that went so well with cheese), and a pitcher of ale for the two of them. Gandalf, despite his years in the company of hobbits, was just not a big eater, and Bilbo had learned not to press too much food upon him.

They talked about the news of the Shire - Bilbo described the latest excitement when three sheep had nearly drowned themselves in The Water. Then Bilbo mentioned how his three young Baggins cousins, Peony, and Daisy, and Poppy, were no longer babies, and how they were starting to grow like weeds, and in a few more years would be setting all the lads in a flurry if Bilbo knew what was what. They talked about the new parlor at the Ivy Bush and whether the Green Dragon's was as comfortable of an evening. Gandalf listened to the tale of the excellent dandelion wine Bilbo had bottled in the summer, since the dandelions had done their best to invade the garden and had to be kept from seeding, and with such an unwanted harvest of dandelions, why not put them to use?

When Gandalf poured his second ale, Bilbo asked, "And you? What have you been up to this past year, my dear?"

"Travelling, mostly. But I have spent some time in Rivendell. There is word of some new trouble in the south, and I felt the need to see Elrond. It may be nothing, but the counsel of friends is always welcome. I met Elrond's foster son ..." His voice trailed off for a moment, then he continued, "We spent some time in the Wild together, and now he fares south to Rohan and thence to Gondor."

"Elrond's foster son?" Bilbo looked sharply at Gandalf. "He's spent a lot of time with the twins, has he not?"

"Yes, and they were always away together whenever I visited Rivendell in the past." Gandalf stared into the fire, a curious expression on his face. "Aragorn is a good man, and we became friends. You would like him. He is still but a tween in hobbit reckoning, but seems older than his years."

"Ah." Bilbo said. "That's from running with the twins, no doubt."

"Hmmm? Oh, yes. Perhaps." Gandalf rolled the pewter mug between his hands, staring into it.

Bilbo pondered Gandalf's distraction with some interest. He didn't bother asking any more questions. Gandalf could be counted on to be close with many things, and questions got a curious hobbit nowhere with a close wizard. Bilbo glanced sideways at Gandalf for a moment, then turned his gaze toward the fire. He made a mental note to darn Gandalf's socks for him on the morrow: the wizard's left big toe was almost escaping from the hole worn there.

After a bit, Bilbo rose and tidied away the dirty dishes, bustled about with preparations for the night, banked up the fire, and then led Gandalf down the hallway into the farthest reaches of Bag End. "Come along, come along," he urged the wizard, "I have a surprise for you, my friend." He pulled open the very last door, at the end of the long curving hallway, and motioned the wizard inside.

"Oh." Gandalf paused. "Oh, my! You have been busy!" The last room, farthest into The Hill, had been thoroughly made over. The ceiling was now an extra foot higher than the other rooms of Bag End. Against the freshly painted creamy white of the walls stood a chair large enough for a man to sit in comfortably, higher, wider and taller than a hobbit chair, and it was padded with a plump tapestry-covered cushion patterned in shades of green. Filling the rest of the space was a bed such as never seen in the breadth of the Shire -- unless there was a grain to truth to that humorous song about a certain Took many long years ago who had a very big bed in which his legendary exploits took place! -- a bed at the very least seven feet long and five feet wide, with linens made especially to size.

Bilbo beamed at the wizard's astonishment. "Do you like it? I got the notion from Bree, where they have rooms for hobbits and rooms for men in the same Inn. One day I thought how pleasant it would be for certain of my visitors to be able to really stretch out quite comfortably in bed, instead of making do, sleeping on the floor, with their feet sticking out whenever they tug the blankets up. Old Mungo did the woodworking, pleased as punch to have such a challenge. Lovely carving, isn't it? And Hawthorne did the linens, and Byrony put together the biggest goosefeather bed she could stuff." He patted its bright blue plumpness with an appreciative hand. "Took three of us to get it in here without dragging it all along the floor in the hallway."

Gandalf gazed at Bilbo with no little curiosity. "But, Bilbo, have you enough visitors who need such a bed? You take me to task every visit for not coming by more often."

"Ah, well, it comes in handy from time to time. Believe me, it does." Bilbo bounced on his heels a bit, recollecting his last visitor, and just how handy a really large bed had been at that time. He smiled. "You must know what I mean, my dear friend. Eh? Eh?"

Gandalf's glance slid sideways. "Hmmph. Well..."

Bilbo tried not to snicker. Dear old boy, Gandalf, but as far as Bilbo had ever been able to tell, nothing much going on below the belt. Well, not as much as any hobbit, or many of the men Bilbo knew. Poor chap. Too much time alone or spent in important councils with the Elves, without a doubt. And now the poor fellow was looking decidedly embarrassed, as well.

Feeling terribly sorry for his friend, Bilbo pounced on him and gave him another heartfelt hug.

"Oh, Gandalf... Oh! Gandalf?"

Where his shoulder rested, Bilbo felt something. Something he'd never felt in all the many hundreds of hugs he had given his friend. Something he had come to believe Gandalf perhaps just did not ever have.

Something hobbits called growing wood.

Well, the start of that, any road.

Not letting go, Bilbo looked up.

The wizard was blushing, a hint of pinkness tingeing his weathered cheeks and the tips of the ears peeking out between his trailing locks. He was doing his very best not to meet Bilbo's gaze.

Bilbo was too experienced a hobbit to let that deter him.

He pulled back just a bit, and put both his hands where they would do the most good, and gave a firm, exploratory rub to that portion of his friend's anatomy. The response was quite favorable for the growth of wood, and he heard Gandalf's breath catch.


"Gandalf, my dear, dear friend, we will have a very nice evening." Bilbo tugged the wizard to the bed and pushed him until he sat. "An exceptionally nice evening, indeed. Lie down."


"Well, come along now. Sharing a bed with a friend is a wonderful thing. And frankly," Bilbo unbuttoned his weskit, and tossed it onto the chair, "I thought perhaps you just didn't. I'm very glad to know that I was wrong. Quite glad indeed. Now, lie down!"


"I've asked you twice!"

Gandalf began to look slightly less embarrassed. The barest hint of a smile touched his lips, and a twinkle appeared. "It sounded like an order." He lay down.

Bilbo climbed up onto the bed, using the footstool that had come in so handy the last time he'd had company in this room. He crawled up and began by unbuckling the wizard's belt, tugging it off and tossing it in the general direction of the chair. He missed and heard the buckle clunk onto the tiles. Sliding his hands up Gandalf's chest, he began untying the robe's fastenings. "Let's get you out of this and see what we have, eh?" The ties were knotted tight. "I've never seen you out of this, you know. Even at bath time in Rivendell."

With a humorously resigned expression and no little difficulty, Gandalf unknotted the ties, and sat up to slip out of his worn grey wizard's robe. Once that was discarded, Bilbo could see he was wearing a knitted undertunic, grey too, of course. It hung down to his knees, and there was an interesting bulge distorting the hang of the garment. Bilbo promptly pushed it up and out of his way with both hands.

"Oh, my dear wonderful Gandalf. You are hung like a dwarf! How fine!" Bilbo leaned forward and took a good long lick. "You taste better, though!" The tunic fell down and tangled on his ears. He ignored it, and listened to the noises the wizard was trying not to make. After a slurpy moment, he pulled his head out from under the folds and began to unbutton his shirt buttons. "Get that off, silly."

He didn't wait to see if Gandalf would obey him, but got on with removing his breeches and shirt and tossing them willy-nilly in the general direction of the chair, missing by a good measure. Pink about the cheeks, Gandalf had pulled his tunic off, ending up with hair straggling all over his face. Bilbo ran an admiring hand up the wizard's cock, and teased, "So those stories about wizard's staffs are really true, eh?"

Gandalf gave in and laughed. Bilbo edged up the bed and kissed him. Hobbit-fashion, with lots of tongue. Gandalf was warm, and tasted of the ale they'd drunk, and seemed to Bilbo to be not terribly experienced, but not unwilling. He pulled back after a moment. "Um, I do so like kissing a friend with a beard. I just don't get a chance to do that often enough." Laughing, he moved back to the main course, and spent a good long time exploring with lips and tongue and hands the staff of his very own wizard. This fell rather firmly into the category of favorite activities for an autumn evening. Well, actually, favorite activities for any evening. Or many evenings.

Listening to Gandalf's muted noises and faced with a large and luscious cock, Bilbo moved over just enough so he could hump his own happy cock on Gandalf's firm thigh. "Ummmmm." He sucked on the head, and was pleased to get a tasty drop or three as appetizer.

To a hobbit so inclined, a nice large helping of man (or wizard, Bilbo now knew) cock was a feast. Not to say that hobbit cock was insufficient as one's daily meals. Not at all. If hobbit portions were smaller, they tended to make up in extra courses. But by the same token, that same hobbit so inclined was most unlikely to refuse an invitation to a special feast when one was offered. Especially one as delicious as this.

Bilbo was nicely hard, and was leaving a slick juicy patch on Gandalf's thigh. Time to move on. He looked up, past the wizard's stiff cock. Gandalf's eyes were closed, his head was back, and his whiskers were bristling. Bilbo stopped licking. After a moment, Gandalf's eyes flew open.

"So, my dear, how about a bit of Hide the Sausage?"

Gandalf looked at Bilbo. He swallowed. "Don't you think the... um, uh... size difference... could be a bit of a problem?"

Bilbo leaned back, and let his cock bob up and down. "Well, I'm certainly not a dwarf like you, and while hobbits are shorter than men, here, " he gripped himself, "as well as here," he patted his head, "we are not any less narrow in the barrel!"

Gandalf looked at Bilbo's thick cock. He cleared his throat. "Well, certainly not, but I thought ... ummm . .."

Bilbo laughed again. Gandalf might be able to talk to elf kings and dwarf lords and all manner of men, but he had little fluency with bed partners it seemed. "Dear friend! Trust me. I know whereof I speak. I will lead and you will follow my lead, and we will both have an excellent evening. And then I think, a late supper. And the morning will take care of itself."

Running his fingers though the juices on Gandalf's creamy pale thigh, Bilbo positioned them at Gandalf's arse and began to moisten him, working a gentle finger inside. This had a good effect. The wizard groaned and his cock jumped. Heartened and happy -- he would regret missing this course, a personal favorite dish, though he knew it was not to the liking of all, and substitutes could be just as tasty -- Bilbo worked away. Soon he edged up closer, positioned his cock, and began to push. Gandalf immediately opened his legs and pulled up his knees. Hmmm, inexperienced perhaps, but definitely not unwilling, observed Bilbo happily. After a few moments, Bilbo was inside and waiting for the muscles to loosen, and then he was able to begin pumping gently. Mmmm. This was tasty indeed. Gandalf was making little sounds, wordless but pleased.

"Ohhh. Oh, Gandalf, I knew you were warm, but I didn't know you were hot, as well." He leaned forward between the wizard's wide spread thighs, grasped his friend's erection with both hands, and pulled it toward himself far enough to be able to lick while he humped.

" I know ... uhn ... this isn't... umm ... enough for you, but trust me." Bilbo thrust faster. "Oh, you taste so good!" He lapped at the wizard's leaking cock. Gandalf whimpered a little, and his hands clenched into the feathery folds of the blue comforter. "Mmmmm." Bilbo sucked hard, and pushed in hard, and came hard, and yelled. He fell forward against the wizard's straining erection, and after breathing hard for a few moments, pulled back, pulled out, and said, a bit breathlessly, "Now, my dear, for you."

Straddling Gandalf's long-muscled thigh, he positioned his hand at the still open hole, using his own spilled seed to ease his way. Now this was the right size to do the wizard some good! He began working his arm deeper and deeper in. Gandalf pulled his legs further up and moaned, a lovely sound that made Bilbo hope very much for a dessert course to follow. Pressing on, he finally got in deep enough. Yes!

"Gandalf, we hobbits call this Find the Dumpling!"

Gandalf tried to laugh, moaned instead, and arched up off the bed. Bilbo thought he was chewing his beard but his head was pushed back too far for Bilbo to see. He thrust in and pulled back, again, and once more ... There! Muscles grabbed, the purple cock spurted up and up (good thing the ceiling was high in this room!) and Gandalf flailed about, sweat standing out all over his long slim form. As the last of the spasms passed, Bilbo pulled his arm out gently, and slid up far enough to lick the buttermilk seed off Gandalf's chest and belly. Hobbit-like, he was hard again, but, hobbit-like, he could wait politely enough until the next course was ready to be served.

He stroked the wizard's heaving, sweaty chest, pushed his beard aside, and rubbed the damp soft skin underneath. He licked off a bit more sweaty cream, and gently humped his renewed erection against his friend's thigh just for the feel of it. Gandalf groaned, a happy groan, and reached an arm toward Bilbo.

"Ah, Bilbo..."

"Mmmm. Gandalf, we could use a bath!"



"Mnnnn. Hmmm?"

"I really ought to show you my new, larger bathroom. It goes nicely with the guest room, you know..."

Gandalf just twitched. Bilbo smiled, slid off the bed, and washed his hands and arm in the flower-patterned basin sitting ready to hand on the side table. He returned to the bed, and crawled up on top of Gandalf. Just because he wanted to, he sat astride the wizard's softened cock, and lightly stropped his own against it. He gave the relaxed wizard a good looking over. Like most men, he was not bad looking to the hobbit, his body suited to walking and climbing and riding, with good useful muscle. But that muscle wasn't covered with a proper layer of fat, and his body looked oddly naked showing those muscles in long lines and visible curves, undressed as it were. Add to that he didn't have the proper hobbit furriness at chest and belly and feet, just a faint dusting of hair ... but he did have a lovely long beard. Bilbo wasn't complaining. Gandalf was his own dear friend, and being able to share bedgames with a friend more than made up for that friend looking a bit odd. Looks were nowhere near as important as all that. Elves, for instance. Elves were the most beautiful beings in the whole of the land, but -- well, one might want to share with them, but mostly one wouldn't be able to. Beautiful as starlight they were, and many of them were just as cold and distant as starlight. Ready to sing songs about love, but hardly ever ready to touch. Very few that Bilbo had met, no matter how he loved and admired them, were what he would consider cuddly. Less beautiful and more approachable, that was the sort to look to for bedgames. And friends were the best of all.

Gandalf was looking a bit more alert. He eyes were not only open, but were now focussed.

"Well?" Bilbo asked.

"Well?" Gandalf replied.

"A bath? Another helping?" Bilbo bounced a bit to remind Gandalf where he was sitting.

"Not just yet, thank you."

Bilbo smiled. "Whenever you are ready, my dear. And speaking of which, why were you?"


"I've known you many a year, Gandalf!"

"Seventeen, isn't it?"

"As you well know! And you've never so much as given the smallest hint that you knew what to do with this," Bilbo patted the wizard's cock, much as he would a friend's shoulder. "I somehow doubt you waited until I had this big bed specially built." He chuckled, then went on more seriously. "And I do hope it wasn't because you doubted your welcome."

"I did not know that this sort of welcome was waiting!" Gandalf adjusted the pillows, so he could look at Bilbo more easily.

"Then you are a fool. Or you don't know much about hobbits!"

Gandalf gave a small sideways smile. "More than enough of both, I believe."

"Well, then? What woke you up?"

"I had an encounter ... an encounter that ... well, woke me up is as good an expression as any."

"Ahhhh." Bilbo looked at his friend's face and once again realized pushing for answers would gain him none. "Well, then, let me teach you a few things more about hobbits. We value our friends highly. We welcome them to bed and board, and to hearth and home, and to heart as much as we may. In all the ways that are good for both. That is why while you are my guest I will feed you, and let you try some of my dandelion wine, and play bedgames with you, and give you a warm bath, and tomorrow I will most certainly darn that excuse for a left sock." He leaned up and kissed Gandalf again, pleased to get a warm response. "What would you like, my friend?"

Gandalf looked thoughtful. "You would really darn my sock?"

Bilbo chuckled. "Not until tomorrow. Tonight-- food, bed, or bath? I will not suggest more conversation, because I don't think you will take me up on that."

"Well, then... show me this bath of yours."

"Show you? I'll share it with you, my dear." And he did.