Merry had been home for an hour, and was just contemplating cleaning the bathroom, when there was a knock at the door. Grinning broadly, he crossed the room to open it, already knowing who stood on the other side.
Pippin looked a little startled when Merry opened the door on the first knock, but smiled quickly, greeting Merry with a light, one-armed hug, as the other arm was holding a grocery bag.
“Got us some stuff to cook,” he explained, and Merry smiled, bemused.
“I do have food,” he said, and thought about what was in the pantry. “Of a sort.”
“Merry Brandybuck, if all you have to do is pop it in the microwave, it’s not real food,” Pippin scolded, as Merry trailed him into the kitchen. “Frodo’s told me stories, you know, about the creations you used to make.”
“It’s real food! Look, it says right here,” Merry pointed out, grinning, pulling out a box of frozen lasagna.
Pippin merely gave him a Look, and did not dignify the small cardboard box with a response.
“That’s why we need to get back together--you’ll starve without me,” Pippin grumbled, and jumped a little when Merry laid a hand on his shoulder.
Merry smiled softly, until Pippin was smiling back, not needing words at the moment, until Merry squeezed the thin shoulder, and let go to help unpack the food.
“Ooo, ice cream!” he teased, and laughed when Pippin stuck his tongue out. Pippin had unpacked and was already chopping vegetables in the few moments it took Merry to put the dark chocolate ice cream--his favorite--away. “Um…d’you want help?” he asked, a little shyly.
“Here, finish chopping the peppers,” Pippin said, popping a chunk in his mouth, and smoothly turning to the onions. Merry obediently went to work on the peppers, feeling as though things were very much in place, working peacefully here by Pippin’s side. Usually they were teasing each other, or, more rarely, fighting. But sometimes, when they’d both had long days and were tired, they’d work quietly, the tiny kitchen warm and comforting, filled only with the sounds of their work.
Pippin didn’t look up from his work until everything was sizzling happily in a frying pan, and he looked up with such a grin as to make Merry’s heart leap, which of course led to his body following his heart, not his mind.
Which was why Pippin was, shortly after, held firmly in his arms in a warm, welcoming hug. “Missed you,” Merry managed, and was only a little surprised to find Pippin hugging back.
“Missed you too,” Pippin whispered softly, and Merry hugged him tightly, wanting to dispel the tears in that voice.
“We can do this,” he murmured.
“Yeah.”
And Merry let go, and smiled into Pippin’s eyes, and yelped as some flying grease got him on the arm, to Pippin’s giggles.
Dinner was prepared quickly enough, and Merry opened a bottle of wine, pouring them each a generous glass, and happy to see that they still had several hours before Pippin had to leave for work. The table already set, Pippin dished up the sautéed onions, peppers and sausage while Merry set out a plate of biscuits and salad.
“So have you talked with anyone lately?” Pippin asked, digging in hungrily.
Merry smiled to see Pippin voraciously attacking his food although, truth be told, he was quite hungry himself. “No, I sit in this apartment by myself day-in and day-out,” he teased, although the truth wasn’t as far from that as he was implying. “I see Frodo quite a bit, of course--and he brought me news of you, so I assume you know how well the new cocktail is treating him.”
Pippin nodded grinning. “It’s so great he can work full-time again,” he agreed. And then, more shyly, “You asked him about me?”
“Of course!” Merry looked up with a soft smile. “Pippin, I may have been hurt, and angry, but I still needed to know that you were all right. If you’d needed a place to live, or something…”
“Oh. Oh, Mer, that’s really sweet of you,” Pippin said, ducking his head a bit and smiling.
Merry smiled tenderly, not a little charmed. “So you were okay? Are?”
“All things considered, aye,” Pippin said. “I moved in with Pearl that night, so don’t let that worry you. Oh! You haven’t really met Damien yet, have you? I mean, after he was just a little red-faced thing?”
Merry giggled, pausing for a generous sip of wine. “No, I haven’t, love. You like him?”
“I love him,” Pippin said seriously. “Truly, Merry, I have to bring him by sometime, or you have to come visit--he’s absolutely precious. And he’s fun! Well, as much fun as an infant can be. But still.”
Merry grinned, and poured them each another glass of wine. “Wonderful, I’m glad you like him so. And yes, please, I want to meet him soon.”
Pippin lounged back in his chair, done with eating, and idly sipped from his glass, watching Merry with a half-smile. Merry, also done, stayed close to the table feeling…not uncomfortable, exactly, but as though something were just the littlest bit out of place. Things were going better than he’d expected, though. Maybe this would work.
Finally, though, the conversation petered out, grew a bit uncomfortable.
“Pip…” Merry began.
“Oops, time for work!” Pippin sang out. He stood up quickly, and stacked their plates. “Sorry I’m leaving you with the cleanup--I’ll do it next time, okay?”
Merry stopped, and smiled for a moment, his question dying on his lips. Next time. “Okay.”
Pippin smiled, and gave him one last hug. “We’ll talk, too,” he promised. “There’s a lot more to say.”
Merry nodded, feeling strangely near tears, especially when Pippin kissed him on the cheek and ran out the door. Merry could hear him clomping down the stairs.
“Next time.” And at least he was smiling through the tears.