Happy birthday, Thuri!  Again ;)     

     Merry came home to the scent of baking bread and a tray of cooling cookies.  Very delicious cookies, he corrected himself, after snagging one.

            “They good?” Pippin asked, not looking up from the dough he was busily kneading. 

            Merry crossed the kitchen, another cookie in hand, and greeted Pippin with a little kiss to his neck.  “Very good, sweeting.  Mmm, you’re a treasure.”

            Pippin laughed as he bit into the cookie Merry had dangled in front of him.  “Oooh.  Are good.  How was your day, sweeting?”

            Merry shrugged.  “Can’t complain.  Last real class, thank God, and then I just have to show up for the final and help proctor.”  He celebrated with another little kiss on Pippin’s neck, making the Took giggle and squirm.

            “So this means I get you all to myself?  Delicious!”  Pippin teased, giving the dough in front of him a final pounding, and turning around to hug Merry awkwardly, trying to keep flour off of him.

            “Mmm-hmm.”  Merry returned the hug, adding a little peck on the lips.  “Whatcha making?”

            Pippin was smiling as Merry let go of him, and took a seat, strategically next to the cookies.  “Cinnamon bread.  It should be done by dinner.”

            “Yum,” Merry observed, and yanked at Pippin’s waist, pulling him into Merry’s lap as he returned from setting the bowl of dough on the radiator in the corner.  “Yum,” he repeated, nuzzling at Pippin’s neck a little, rewarded with a giggle and some squirming.

            “Merry!” he protested, but settled down happily for a few long kisses, finally resting his head on Merry’s shoulder.

            Merry hugged him tightly, deeply content, in a warm kitchen that smelled of cinnamon, with his own Pippin there, cuddled close.  “Let’s do Christmas together this year.”

            Pippin laughed.  “Mer, we always do Christmas together.”

            Merry nodded a little, and rocked Pippin a bit, still holding him close.  “We do, but not the family stuff.”  Suddenly shy, he took a deep breath.  “I don’t want to be apart from you, this year.”

            Pippin looked startled for a moment, and then his features softened.  “You don’t?  Me neither.”  He grinned a little, and Merry’s heart leapt. 

            “Oh, lovely!”  He hugged Pippin tightly, planting a long kiss on his cheek.  “I’ll call Mum and tell her you’re coming for sure.”

            Pippin frowned a moment, and moved away from Merry a little bit.  “You already talked to your parents about me?  And what about Pearl?”

            Merry shrugged.  “Yeah, why not?  And we can go to Pearl’s for Christmas Eve, or that morning.”

            Pippin frowned again, and moved off of Merry’s lap.  “But we always do Christmas Eve with just the two of us--we even go to mass!  And why did you just decide we can’t do Pearl’s in the evening, without even asking me?”

            Merry crossed his arms.  “Well, we’ll do something else for just the two of us.  Pippin, what’s your problem?”

            Pippin glared at him.  “My problem is that you didn’t even ask me what I wanted before you started making arrangements!  How am I supposed to tell my only, only relative that I’ll just be able to see her for an hour or two on Christmas?  Or that we’ll have to switch to Christmas Eve, because my boyfriend--who doesn’t even like his own parents, Merry Brandybuck--just went ahead and arranged things!”

            “Pippin!” Merry yelped.  “I did ask you, and yeah, maybe I talked to Mom first, but I didn’t set anything in stone!  Shut up and think first, before you start yelling.”

            “I’m not yelling,” Pippin growled, still glaring at Merry.  “And I don’t care if it wasn’t for sure--you just totally went over my head, and didn’t even care!  What if I wanted us to have dinner with Pearl?”

            “Who I haven’t even met,” Merry countered.  “In three whole years!  Why do you start caring now if she meets me?  You barely see her!”

            Pippin’s jaw dropped.  “I-oh-Merry!”  His voice rose in volume, and Merry winced a little at the anger in it.  “And you think I love her any less?  The only person that gave a damn about me?”  He stood up, raking his fingers through his hair.  “Fuck this.  I’m tired of yelling when you’re not even hearing me.”

            Merry reached out for Pippin numbly, but he had already turned on his heel, heading out the door.  “Pippin?  Pippin!  Dammit, don’t run from me like this!”

            But the door to their bedroom had already slammed, and Merry heard a muffled “Fuck you!” through the door before all was silent again.

            He growled silently and threw himself down upon the futon, mindlessly flipping on the TV.  Maurice was on, forcing Merry to close his eyes in pain for a moment while flipping the channel.  He had gotten the DVD for Pippin, for Christmas, because they’d loved the movie so much.  Next was a nice, safe nature show that did nothing to hold Merry’s attention.  He bit his lip, refusing to cry over one silly fight.  Even if Pippin was right.  And he knew it.  Knew that Pippin had the right of it;  they should’ve talked it out, before he had that fight with his mother.  Because it was a fight;  not over bringing Pippin, but to bring him as his boyfriend, not his roommate.  Merry hadn’t particularly wanted to deal with his parents for a whole meal, but the fight with his mother that was ahead, if their plans changed, was already giving him a headache.

            So he scowled at the screen, again, and started to massage his wrist a little.  It always ached, lately, in the cold, although Aragorn had said that would pass as it healed fully.  Merry debated getting up to get an aspirin, but felt too dark and stagnant to do so.  He always felt nasty after a fight with Pippin, and they were growing more common.  Not enough to make Merry really worry--yet--but he hoped it was just the chaos of his graduating, Pippin applying to schools, and the approaching holidays.

            Merry sighed, closing his eyes against stinging tears at the thought of going through Christmas dinner without Pippin’s charm at his side, without the possibility of sneaking hands under the table, and getting a reassuring squeeze when it was needed.  He pulled down the fuzzy fleece blanket they kept over the back of the futon, for convenient cuddling, and wrapped up in it against the chill of early evening.  The smell of baking still permeated the apartment, and Merry curled up tight, breathing it in and trying to relax.

            “Merry?”  came a hesitant voice through the door.  “Could you check and see how high the dough’s risen?”

            Merry waited a beat before he started laughing loudly, bent over this time by the silliness of Pippin’s request.  He could hear laughter through the door, too, and it was quickly thrown open, framing a smiling, crying Pippin who soon enough flung himself into Merry’s arms.  Merry held on tightly while they both giggled, and he gently wiped Pippin’s tears away, kissing him sweetly.

            “Oh.  Merry.”  Pippin cuddled close.  “I’m sorry I started yelling, love.  My own Merry, we’ll do what we must.”  Merry smiled into the sweet kiss Pippin gave him.  “I don’t mind going to Pearl’s Christmas Eve, really I don’t.  It was a stupid fight;  I don’t care where I am since we’ll be together.”

            Merry’s heart melted at the sweet words, and he hugged Pippin fiercely.  “You’re entirely too good to me.  And I was a huge ass to you;  I’m so sorry honey.    I should’ve talked to you first, and found out what you thought, and…well, just acted like you existed.”  Merry kissed him, long and hard.  “My lovie.  I’m so sorry.”

            Pippin grinned, and poked him in the nose a little.  “Good, you should be.  I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you, but I am in the right, this time.”

            Merry grinned back, bumping noses with Pippin.  “Yes, yes, chalk one up for you.  I love you.”

            Pippin leaned in for a little nuzzle.  “Hah, I win!  And I love you too, honey.  And sit tight for one moment while I run and check on that dough.”  And, quick as that, he was gone, and Merry readjusted the blanket to keep him warm, smiling as he heard Pippin opening the oven door, and then washing his hands once more before returning to pounce on Merry.

            He frowned a little as he saw Merry rubbing his wrist again, taking it in both his hands.  “This bothering you, sweetie?”

            Merry shrugged a little, smiling.  “A little.  Just because of the cold, I think.”

            Pippin made a face, cuddling closer to Merry.  “Then c’mere, and let me keep you warm,” he teased, grinning up at Merry. 

            “Ah, an utterly selfless act on your part,” Merry replied, wrapping his arms around Pippin’s stomach, pulling him to lie against Merry’s chest.  He smiled for a moment, burying his face in Pippin’s hair, breathing in clean and cinnamon and Pippin.  “My Pip.”

            “My Mer,” Pippin teased back, imitating Eowyn and Faramir’s young son, who had seemingly adopted them the last time he was over.  He twisted around to press an affectionate kiss to Merry’s cheek.  “We do need to figure this out, though.”

            Merry sighed, resting his head on Pippin’s shoulder.  “We do.  And…I should warn you.  I had to fight with Mom to let you come as my boyfriend.  She’ll be perfectly gracious to your face,” Merry’s voice turned harsh and ugly, and he paused to regain control.  “But you should know.  Because I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to skip the whole deal.”

            Pippin bit his lip, and closed his eyes, but Merry saw no tears.  “No, Merry.  We should go together, just to show her up.”  He turned and smiled widely, sticking the tip of his tongue between his teeth a little.  “And I promise to behave, even.  I really do.”  He leaned in for a slightly awkward little kiss, resulting in Merry shifting them so that Pippin sat sideways on his lap, still resting his head on Merry’s shoulder.  “Besides, after that conversation, I wouldn’t send you into that hellhole by yourself, not for anything.”

            Merry laughed, hugging Pippin tightly.  “Oh, you’re wonderful.  So wonderful.  When do I finally get to meet Pearl?”

            Pippin smiled a little, cuddling close.  “How about Christmas Eve?  We’ll go to midnight mass instead--it’s lovelier, anyway, and without ten thousand squalling kids.  Pearl’s insanely laid-back--I’ll just let her know when to expect us, and all will be fine.

            Merry grinned, planting another affectionate kiss on Pippin’s cheek.  “I love you.  She sounds wonderful, and we’ll need it before we tackle my parents.”

            Pippin agreed cheerfully, making Merry laugh, and lie back so Pippin could lie atop him on the futon.  Merry wrapped his arms around Pippin’s back, holding him close, and they kissed, for a very long time.

            Pippin sighed happily, and snuggled down in Merry’s arms.  “And we’ll have all of Christmas Day to ourselves, unless Frodo and Sam drop by, and then after The Ordeal, I am locking us in this place, and keeping you all to myself, for as long as I can.”

            Merry laughed at that, and kissed Pippin’s hair.  “I think that’s absolutely the best plan ever.  Now come here, and let me kiss you.”

            And Pippin did, and Merry did, and Merry fell into a world of heat, and darting tongues, and warm hands resting on his shoulders.  He slid his hands down Pippin’s back, gently cupping his rump, and was just beginning to squeeze--

            The buzzer on the stove going off made both of them jump, and Pippin yelped involuntarily, before groaning and letting his head fall against Merry’s chest.

            “I will be right back,” he growled over Merry’s giggles, and ran into the kitchen.  A muffled yelp emerged, but so did Pippin shortly after, sucking on his fingertips.  “Stupid pan,” he grumbled, and smiled sheepishly at Merry.  “Potholder slipped.”

            “Awww,” Merry teased.  “C’mere and let me kiss it.” 

            Pippin wrinkled up his nose, laughing, but came over to perch on the edge of the futon, where Merry was still lying.  He obediently held out the reddened fingertips, and Merry kissed them quickly.

            “All better.  Now, come here,” Merry demanded, yanking Pippin down on top of him.  “We still have make-up sex, my dear.”

            Pippin laughed, landing on Merry with a thump, but stretching out on top of him, nuzzling his neck a little.  “Do we?  That hardly counted as an argument, up against some of the others we’ve had…”

            Merry growled a little, and nibbled at the tip of Pippin’s ear.  “I say it does.”  He kissed the ear in apology, and turned it into a trail of kisses, going down to Pippin’s jaw.  “And I was the stupid one, so I get to decide.”

            Pippin kissed him soundly.  “And that’s enough of that out of you.  Stupid, says the man who successfully defended his thesis, and will walk down that aisle to get his degree in exactly 28 days.  My Merry.”

            Merry had blushed at Pippin’s praise, and pulled his head down for a soft kiss, sucking at his lower lip just a little.  “I love you,” he said quietly.

            “I love you,” Pippin replied, and his voice was teasing, but he kissed Merry softly, very softly and gently. 

            Merry sighed deeply into the kisses they exchanged, letting his tongue dart in and out of Pippin’s mouth, but mostly talking with lips, and hands that roamed, stroking Pippin’s back and arms.  Pippin’s hands braced against his shoulders, kneading a little, and Merry curled one of his legs up and over Pippins’, holding him in place.  He breathed carefully around their kisses, gasping a little as Pippin trailed his lips down Merry’s jaw, to his neck, where he sucked lightly, and kissed more.

            Merry groaned a little when he finally pushed Pippin’s shirt up, rubbing lightly on his back.  His skin was warm and just slightly sweaty from the kitchen, and he gave a gasp that sent shivers down Merry’s spine.

            “You warm now?” Pippin whispered, biting lightly at Merry’s earlobe, and his breath was warm and moist when he laughed at Merry’s gasped affirmative.

            “Love,” Merry breathed, and caught Pippin in a kiss again, moving his feet up so that his knees bent, and Pippin lay between his legs.  “Pippin.”

            “Merry,” Pippin replied softly, and attended to kissing his neck, nuzzling and kissing wetly.  Merry threw back his head at the sensation, slow and drawn out, as Pippin worked his way down to Merry’s collarbone, following the line of it as far as he could.

            “You’re still wearing clothes,” he accused, and raised himself up so that Merry could pull off his shirt.  “Better,” Pippin said decidedly, and yelped a little as Merry yanked his shirt and sweater off. 

            “Perfect,” Merry declared, and they came together with a little gasp from both of them, at the sensation of skin meeting skin, electric and sweet.

            Still deliberate and loving, though, Merry kissed his way as far down Pippin’s neck as he could go, sucking and licking and making Pippin gasp and moan.  He ran his hands down Pippin’s side, squeezing his rump and pressing the two of them together, their erections bumping even through several layers of cloth.

            Pippin grunted when they came together, burying his head in Merry’s chest, licking and kissing wherever he could.  He latched on to one sweet, pink nipple, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, smiling a little at Merry’s moan.

            Merry twisted his hips, rubbing against Pippin’s hardness, and grinned when Pippin cried out, clutching at his shoulders.  “Ohhh, you like that, I see,” he teased, and ground against Pippin a little harder.

            But Pippin got the certain smile he only got when amazing things were about to happen.  “Oh, about as much as you like this,” he purred, moving his hands down to press against Merry’s hips, where they joined his body, and leaning over to suckle on a nipple.

            Electric shocks whipped through Merry’s body at the combination of touches and pressure, and he cried out wordlessly, clutching at Pippin’s shoulders hard enough to leave marks.  Pippin fell upon his neck, licking and sucking everywhere, trails of fire moving across Merry’s throat as he could do nothing but hold on, his hands roaming Pippin’s back, and beyond, tugging lightly on short brown curls, squeezing hard on the soft mounds of his rump, rubbing against the denim of Pippin’s jeans.

            “Why are you still wearing clothes?”  Merry asked in a daze, when Pippin had stopped for a moment.

            “Because you are,” Pippin breathed, his lips red and wet and swollen, his eyes half-lidded with need.  Merry slowly unbuttoned his jeans, sliding his hand in, gently grasping just where he knew Pippin needed him.     

            Pippin moaned, low and beautiful, pressing hard against Merry.  “Touch me, touch me, please, please, Merry,” he gasped out, and Merry responded, beginning to stroke, gently at first and then getting just a bit stronger, teasing Pippin to aching hardness.

            “You’re still wearing too many clothes,” he chided, and was silenced by one look from Pippin. 

            “So’re you,” Pippin mumbled, and ripped at the waist of Merry’s jeans, managing to free the button and get them half-unzipped.  They both helped the other out of their pants, taking far longer than was truly necessary, but oh, it was worth it, Merry knew, when he wrapped his legs around Pippin’s waist, and they met and Pippin was warm and moving and everything good.

            They kissed, long and hard and longer still, rubbing against each other, and Merry disappeared into gently undulating hips and clever fingers that knew exactly where to touch him, and how, pressure just where he needed it, and the lightest feather-touch when he needed that--and, sometimes, accompanied by laughter like sweet summer rainstorms, where he yearned for something harder.

            And Pippin was gone with a whisper, and Merry sat up, blinking, wondering for a moment if it had all been a dream, but then Pippin was back, glorious and beautiful naked, grinning and holding up the bottle of lube he’d retrieved. 

            Merry, being no fool, held out his arms, and Pippin fell into them, kissing him deeply, passionately, and Pippin was everywhere, his sweat-slicked skin gliding along Merry’s deliciously.  The taste of him was everywhere, and Merry grew dizzy with it, with the love of the lad in his arms, and the sensations caused by their bodies coming together.

            And then Merry felt Pippin’s finger enter him, and move just right, and it was quickly joined by another, and another, and Merry ground down, crying out in pain-ecstasy.

            Pippin’s smile was beautiful, and demanded to be kissed, again and again and again, as his fingers hooked and moved in just the right way, but it was when they were gone that Merry raised his arms, bracing himself against the wooden arm of the futon.

            His cry mingled with Pippin’s as Pippin entered him, filling him heart and body.  They moved quickly, Pippin growling and nipping at Merry’s chest, his shoulders, wherever he could reach, as he pounded into Merry, setting up a quick rhythm. 

            Merry could do nothing more than throw his head back and moan, the sensations of Pippin all around him, and he felt Pippin’s growl to the base of his spine, as he felt Pippin’s orgasm, shaking and uncontrollable and emptying into him.  Merry cried out, arching his back, and matched him, as the earth shattered and stars wheeled.

            And then, everything was reborn, and Merry sighed gently as he opened his eyes, smiling down at Pippin where he lay sprawled across Merry’s chest still panting.  He looked up when he heard Merry, though, and smiled, with such love and gentleness that Merry couldn’t help but mirror it.

            “Love you,” Merry whispered in a rough voice, gently stroking Pippin’s cheek. 

            “I love you, Merry,” Pippin replied, with a soft kiss to Merry’s bare chest.  He wriggled a little to get more comfortable, and Merry heard a loud crack, as the futon shuddered, and between one breath and the next, was approximately a foot closer to the floor at one end.

            Merry had instinctively grabbed onto Pippin, making him yelp a little, but both of them were fine, although Pippin started giggling when Merry rolled his eyes back, trying to see what they’d done

            “Oh my,” were the first words out of Merry’s mouth, and then he collapsed into giggles as well, hugging Pippin close, both of them laughing.

            “I didn’t--I didn’t think we’d ever actually do it!”  Pippin gasped out, and lunged up for a kiss.  “Oh, my own love.  We’re incredible.”

            Merry nodded, still laughing.  “And I’m not sorry, at all.  That was worth broken furniture.”

            “Oh, neither am I,” Pippin assured him with mock-seriousness, and then settled against him with another little kiss.  “Wow.  Damn.  I marked you up!”     

            Merry looked down, catching sight of a bite-mark on his shoulder.  “Oh.  Yes you did.”  He smiled at Pippin, feeling free and wild and deeply, deeply happy.  “I love you, geek.”

            “I love you too, Merry-dork,” Pippin returned, leaning in for a soft, sweet kiss.  “Love you so much,” he murmured, settling his head down again on Merry’s shoulder. 

            “Comfy?”  Merry teased.

            “Yes.  Happy.  Warm.  No moving,” Pippin mumbled, even as he sprinkled little kisses on Merry’s chest.

            “Good, good,” Merry said softly, rubbing Pippin’s back.  “Want my Pippin happy.”

            Pippin smiled, silly and sleepy.  “Want my Merry happy, too.”  He placed a sloppy kiss on Merry’s chin.  “I love you.  Let’s stop the stupid fighting, okay?  I’ve been so snippy with you, lately.  I’m sorry.”

            Merry hugged him tenderly, stroking his cinnamon-colored curls, fascinated by the play of his fingers through them.  “Oh, honey.  I love you too.  I’m sorry, too--I’ve hardly been a wonderful person myself, lately.”

            Pippin nuzzled a little.  “So we’ll promise to be nice to each other.  I like that.”

            Merry laughed a little;  post-coital Pippin was generally better than TV.  “I like it too.  I love you, so, so much.  Sleep, honey.  We’ll have a late dinner, but let me just hold you now.”

            Pippin nodded, already half-gone.  “Mmm.  Sleep.  Just a nap.  Love you.”  And then he snored, and Merry held him tighter, still laughing a little, silently, thinking of how to explain the broken futon.

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