For the Love of Flannel
His eyes flickered back and forth underneath his eyelids. "Where
am I?" he thought silently. "What's happened?"
Disoriented, he opened to see himself in a green meadow. His
joints were sore and stiff; his baseball cap lay discarded on the
ground a few feet away from him. The sun shone brightly in his
eyes, making him squint.
He scratched his beard as he attempted to figure out the
predicament. As it seemed, only a moment ago he had been in a
cheap motel, watching the last few minutes of The Hobbit and
drinking a beer. Now, here he was, Bobby Singer, in some place
completely different from where he had been before.
With a deep sigh, he picked up his hat and placed it back on his
head. Without it, he felt a little less like a man, and he just
couldn't have that. "I ain't no sparkly fairy princess," he
murmured, recalling memories he would have best liked to have
Sam and Dean hadn't let the image of him and Crowley kissing go
just yet. They incessantly tormented him like playground bullies.
They said that maybe ole Bobby had changed his ways after years
of hunting, that maybe he was going soft.
Hah. Bobby laughed at that thought. He? Soft? No, no. He may have
reached an older part of his life, but by no means was he soft…
on any account.
He smiled to himself, knowing what he had done before he was
here. As he meandered the meadow, he recalled the memory of
himself stroking his member until every last drop had been
spilled onto the glorious face… of Bilbo Baggins. It was true, he
did have gay thoughts every now and then. But who didn't, he
reasoned with himself.
Even just thinking of it made him a little horny, to be honest.
He had always suppressed his feelings around the boys, even
though they themselves were a little on the queer side. He knew
how Dean felt about Castiel, that strange angel guy they had
found somewhere. If that weren't enough, how could he forget the
Dr. Sexy incident? Ain't no straight man ever called another man
that kind of name if he wasn't at least a little fruity.
As for Sam, it would make sense for him to bat for the same team.
Every woman who he fucked had wound up dead, in some way or
another. Hell, any woman's vagina he had contact with, sexually
or not, had been killed. Poor idjit might as well have tried to
find love somewhere.
But here….. He was alone. There was no one around, and he could
feel something stirring within him. Since he came here, he could
feel that kind of sexual frustration building up. He'd held it in
for too long. It was a go.
"Oh," he sighed as he stripped off his flannel and undid his belt
to his worn and faded jeans. His penis sprung free from his
tighty whities like Dracula from his coffin.
As he stroked it furiously, he thought of Bilbo Baggins, sweaty
and squirming beneath him. He looked mighty scared in the
trailers for the Desolation of Smaug. "How'd you like to meet
this dragon, huh, Bilbo?" he grunted.
Clenching his jaw and feeling the sweat drip down his back, he
released his load onto the grass beneath him. His hands ached
from the strength and energy this took of him.
"What did you say, sir?"
Bobby jumped. His hands quickly shoved his flaccid dick into his
jeans. He attempted to cover himself. But he could not have been
more shocked to see who was standing right before him.
"Bilbo?" he said, breathily. His heart seemed so overjoyed he
thought he might have a heart attack. You know. If that was
possible in Middle Earth.
Suddenly, everything made a little more sense. Of course he was
in the meadow. He was outside Bilbo's home. He silently cursed
himself for not recognizing the area before hand. He had
fantasized about living here so many times with Bilbo as his
"I ain't said nothing," he said gruffly.
Bilbo's face softened. "I've seen you before."
Bobby had to fight the urge to drop his pants once more. His face
was even more beautiful than he had seen in the pictures. His
hair curled perfectly as a chestnut frame to his cherubic face.
His eyes looked deep and warm; there were soft wrinkles around
his eyes and mouth, like he had laughed at a few too many hobbit
tales in his time. And his lips, oh, his lips. Bobby wanted
nothing more than to run and kiss him. The urge was greater than
it had been with Crowley, even.
"You have?" he could barely muster anything louder than a
"Bobby, Bobby Singer. I couldn't have known you any more than I
do now. You are the man who visits me in my dreams. The man who
torments me with the lusting of a passion that I have never
known… until now."
Bilbo's silky voice stirred up that stiffness in Bobby once more.
He wondered if the air in Middle Earth increased libido; never
before had he been so turned on so many times.
"Come with me, my love," Bilbo said.
He took Bobby by the hand and led him into his house. Bobby
seemed to know exactly every room, though neither the book nor
movie had ever put so much detail in the descriptions. With a
deep breath, he squeezed Bilbo's hand.
"Take me no further." he said, gathering courage. "I won't take
another step until you take me right here."
Before he knew it, Bilbo had reached his gentle hand into Bobby's
jeans. He shivered with pleasure as his fantasy slowly pumped it.
He put his own hand in the waistline of Bilbo's loose trousers.
They slowly slipped out of their clothes, staring intensely into
each other's eyes. Once they were both bare naked, Bilbo gingerly
got down on his knees and took Bobby into his mouth.
Bobby could feel his eyes roll into the back of his head. Bilbo's
tongue wrapped around the head of his cock. He let out a moan of
"Oh, you idjit. Oh. Don't stop."
He had to clench the back of an ornately carved chair to keep
from falling over. Bilbo milked every last drop of cum from
Bobby's balls, over and over again. He became so weak in the
knees and his voice hoarse from screaming out. The thought that
other hobbits could hear them outside only turned him on more.
Bilbo caressed the base of his penis. Bobby's heart made a
fluttery feeling, synonymous to a school girl who had been told
that her crush "like likes" her.
"Bobby, I ask you a very important question."
"What?" he croaked, trying to keep from moaning again as Bilbo
rubbed him just right.
"Would you please reproduce the most glorious offspring with me?"
Bobby stepped back, letting his penis fall from Bilbo's grasp.
Bilbo was clearly a man. He could see proof enough just from the
semi-erect member that was dangling between his legs.
"Hobbits don't reproduce the same way that humans do; it is the
male who is impregnated. And I would love for the father of my
first born child to be you…"
Bobby roughly pulled his lover up by the base of his torso. He
bent him over and spread his pale ass cheeks. Rubbing his finger
up and down the slit, he used his free hand to reach around and
grab the now fully hard penis. He tugged at the shaft as quickly
and roughly as he could.
Bilbo gasped and moaned, struggling for breath. Pre-cum dribbled
over the head of his cock and onto Bobby's eager hands. He pulled
his fingers to his lips and tasted the hobbit's sweet nectar.
Then, leaving no time to get used to the erotic feeling in the
room, he plunged himself deep within Bilbo.
It wasn't easy to fit himself inside Bilbo's tiny hole. He was
sure that it would have been uncomfortable for the man, but he
showed no signs of pain. All Bobby could hear was the loud, wet
thwacking sound of his balls slapping Bilbo's cheeks and the
majestic cries they were both making.
In no time at all, he shot his load into Bilbo's hungry, waiting
hole. They both collapsed in a sweaty heap upon the floor,
grasping each other's hair and rolling around in a make out
session that could have beaten any famous kissing scene in all of
"What do we name him?" Bilbo asked after a while.
"It's a he?"
Bilbo nodded. "I'm thinking we should name him a combination of
our two names."
Bilbo smiled lovingly. "Babbo Idjit Baggins-Singer."
Bobby returned the grin. "I love you, Bilbo,"
He watched as Bilbo slowly crept forward and placed his lips upon
Bobby's and then…
"Bobby, what in the hell do you think you are doing?"
"And I thought the pudding thing was bad…."
Sam and Dean stood over him like two giants. Castiel roamed the
room like a confused puppy. Dean had a look of contempt; Sam
looked downright disturbed.
"Well, I guess I'll never look at Lord of the Rings the same
again," Dean said, smirking at the soiled magazine. Bobby
sheepishly avoided their eyes.
"Try not to ruin Harry Potter for me," Sam said, turning to
leave. "I can relate to the Boy Who Lived."
"I don't understand that reference," Castiel said huskily.
"Of course you don't," Dean said. "Now come on. Time to hit the
road. Sammie, you got shotgun. I'm not sitting by Whacker here."
As Bobby cleaned himself of his pooling seed that lie on his
stomach, he looked forlornly at the ruined photograph of Bilbo.
Oh, it just felt all too real. But how could he believe such a
thing? Dreams coming true was for idjits.
Still…. He wiped a tear from his eye as he threw away the
"Some day, my love," he whispered. "Some day, Bilbo and Babbo.