Pippin ran through the streets of Minas Tirith, hoping dearly that he wouldn’t be late. Merry and he had the same night off from their duties for the first time in a week, and he needed to be on time. Finding a discreet leatherworker had been difficult enough, and then for him to be running late!

Pippin upped his speed, feet skimming the cobblestone streets of the White City.

Another effect of these silly Men, he grumbled to himself. In the Shire, he and Merry would never have had to schedule an evening together. And they certainly wouldn’t have had to wait a week! Until very recently, Pippin’s injuries had limited them to only the gentlest of amorous encounters, adding further to his frustration. Although, then again, Merry was quite good with words, and the poems he’d written—Pippin shivered a little, involuntarily, and smiled.

At last, at last, Pippin skidded into the front hall of the large apartment all the hobbits shared. Sam and Frodo had graciously agreed to seek dinner elsewhere so that Pippin and Merry could have the kitchen to themselves for an intimate meal. And after that…

Pippin emerged from the bedroom, having hidden his new purchases under his pillow, to see Merry arriving home as well, at the end of the main hall all of the rooms branched off of. He quickly walked to greet his lover, sharing a warm kiss.

“Mmmn. Missed you, Mer,” Pippin sighed happily, leaning into Merry’s embrace.

Merry’s laugh made his whole chest vibrate, and Pippin smiled at the familiar sensation. “You saw me just this morning, Pip, when we woke up,” Merry teased, moving away to remove his gauntlets and cloak.

“Unh-huh. Still too long.” Pippin’s grin was mirrored by Merry’s, and he leaned in for another kiss. Merry’s tongue touched his lips, parting them, and Pippin breathed in sharply at the flickers of electricity that seems to radiate from the warm softness of Merry’s mouth.

Eventually they parted, Merry nipping Pippin’s nose lightly. “Help me with my armor?” he asked, practical once again.

“In a moment—I want to check on dinner. It should be ready soon,” Pippin said, heading off to the kitchen. Merry fell in beside him, and smooched him on the forehead.

“Such a good wife you are!” he teased before running to their bedroom, away from Pippin’s indignant yell and outstretched hands.

“Hmph. Just you wait until tonight, Meriadoc Brandybuck,” Pippin muttered to himself, before going to check on the stew that had been bubbling over the fire. All seemed well with that, and the fresh bread he’d baked earlier that day, and he headed off to bedroom, whistling happily.

He found Merry lying splayed somewhat awkwardly across their bed, reading some parchment. Pippin plopped next to him, resting his head against Merry’s shoulder. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the comforting scent of leather and hobbity cooking and Merry himself.

“Hoy,” he commented, skimming the sheets. “That’s what you wrote for me. Looking for inspiration?” Merry laughed, and set them down, rolling onto his side to face Pippin.

“A bit, I suppose. I want to rewrite some of them; they could be a lot better,” he said, with a glance at the scrawled-upon sheets.

“Rewrite, then,” Pippin murmured, going into Merry’s arms again, sighing as wet kisses were pressed to his cheek and neck. “Rewrite, and research, and make them better. And then don’t expect me to ever let you out of our bed, lover-mine.” And Merry’s laugh tickled Pippin’s collarbone.

“Up,” mumbled Pippin. “Dinner’ll burn.”

“What if you’re my dinner,” Merry murmured into Pippin’s ear with a little nibble for the point, but got up anyway.

Pippin stuck his tongue out at Merry briefly, but quickly had the leather armor off and airing out on the stand in the corner, next to Pippin’s own chainmail. He went into Merry’s arms once more, relaxing against soft cloth and warm skin instead of tough leather, and extremely happy to be doing so.

“Nnn. Dinner,” he mumbled, but didn’t move from Merry’s embrace. Memories of the nights he’d been apart from Merry, running and scared on Shadowfax, were distant now, but still just real enough that he fell asleep every night wrapped in Merry’s arms, and woke every morning with Merry in his. And if they cuddled a bit more than usual, or held hands almost every time they walked together, Frodo and Sam did not comment.

“Dinner,” Merry said firmly, and they set off for the kitchen, Merry’s arm still looped around Pippin’s shoulders.

Pippin opened a bottle of the best wine he could wheedle from the King’s kitchens, which was very good indeed. Dinner was consumed quickly, the two hobbits toasting with each raise of their glass, growing more and more silly. Pippin had just toasted the cow that provided the beef in the stew, when Merry wiped tears of laughter away and filled their glasses again.

“I raise my glass to Pippin Took,” he said softly, solemnly, a smile lighting his face. “I hail him tonight for being my love, my lover, my best friend in all the world. I hail him for choosing life, despite the pain it brought. I hail him for his courage in going on the Quest. And I hail him again, because he has never failed to bring me the greatest joy, and it is an honor to share my bed with him, and be in his heart.” He finished formally, in the Rohani way, raising his glass and murmuring “Hail”, his eyes never leaving Pippin’s, even when he sipped the wine.

Pippin raised his glass, when Merry had finished. “I raise my glass to Merry Brandybuck. I toast him for always caring for me, and loving me with all his heart. It is a blessing few get, and I have always tried to live up to it, and honor it. I toast him for beating back the darkest of Evils, and returning to me. I toast him for the wisdom he learned, and the joy he found again. He is half of my soul, and all of my heart, and I raise my glass to him, to honor him.” Pippin did so, and sipped from it, eyes still locked with Merry’s. Tears still sparkled in both of their eyes when Merry came around the table to kneel before Pippin, wrapping his arms around the other hobbit and pressing his face into Pippin’s chest, listening to his heart beat as familiar arms came around his back.

“Frodo and Sam won’t mind if we leave the dishes out, will they?” Merry’s voice came, muffled by Pippin’s chest.

“Not at all,” Pippin mumbled back, pressing his lips against Merry’s golden hair, glowing in the firelight. “And if they do, they can tell us in the morning.”

Merry rose, then, pulling Pippin up with him, and into his arms.

“I want you,” Pippin said, lips against Merry’s ear. “I want you now, in our bed. I want to see your body, strong and sweet and familiar, and hear your cries and taste every inch of you. I want your hands to run across my body, heating it to explosion. I want to hold you, and give you pleasure to make you scream and Merry, I want all that right now.”

And Merry could do nothing but sigh, turning it into a soft moan, and lean against Pippin, his legs gone suddenly weak. “Pippin. If you wouldn’t stand there talking, and instead be kind enough to start for our room, we would be doing that right now.” He laughed, a little, suddenly light and loved and loving. He grabbed Pippin up in an embrace and spun them around, making Pippin laugh, and then ran for the bedroom, Pippin still gripping his hand tightly.

“I win!” Merry yelled, bouncing onto the bed first. Pippin was right behind him, though, and came down in a a running leap, making the wooden frame creak in protest. He tumbled on top of Merry, kissing him playfully, and soon both hobbits were dissolved in laughter.

“You’re wearing entirely too many clothes, Pippin Took,” Merry declared, and set about fixing that, pulling off the other hobbit’s tunic, barely stopping to undo the laces at the neck and wrists. Pippin had reached for the ties on Merry’s breeches at the same time, and managed to get them off even as Merry was pulling him close. Somehow, the remaining clothes disappeared, and the two met, skin against skin at last.

Pippin wondered if he might not just stay this way all night, neatly aligned with Merry. The body beside him was familiar, nearly as familiar as Pippin’s own--a slightly wider chest pressed against his, a softer, rounder tummy, legs that met and tangled and a knee gently working it’s way between Pippin’s legs, and doing absolutely delicious things to him. Merry’s hands had run down his back and now cupped his rump, pulling Pippin even closer to that delicious softness. He loved this closeness, revelled in it, felt Merry’s chest expand with every breath, his heart beating with a hand placed so carefully between rosy nipples. Merry’s own growing hardness, pressing against Pippin’s leg, and warm breaths against his neck, his chest, sweet skin under his tongue. All of these were Merry, and MerryandPippin.

Pippin pulled back a little, gently, and Merry looked up from where he was showing very careful attention to Pippin’s left shoulder. “I’ve bought us a present, Merry-mine,” Pippin said, eyes twinkling as he felt a very Tookish grin form on his face.

“Whatever could be better than what’s before me?” Merry mumbled, eyes gone dark with yearning, and he reached for Pippin again. This time, he faced Pippin’s stomach, and had begun kissing and nipping his way down, following the trail of hair that started right below his navel.

“Mmm. Merry! Be good for just a moment!” Pippin protested, but his back arched involuntarily. Merry had stopped, though, just at the edge of the tuft of hair, and looked up expectantly. Pippin managed to reach under his pillow from where he lay, sprawled across the bed, and withdrew the leather cuffs he’d spent a week’s salary on.

Merry’s eyebrows went straight to his hairline, but he grinned widely. “You magnificent, delightful, utterly foolish Took,” he said slowly, reaching for Pippin. “Love you, want you, need you, Pippin, Pippin, Pippin,” Merry finished in a quick chant, sprinkling kisses on Pippin’s face.

“So, you like them?” Pippin commented casually, and wriggled his hips at Merry’s nod, making them both gasp suddenly.

“On your back, lad,” Pippin commanded, his voice gone rough with desire. Merry lay down on the pillows, his legs wrapped around Pippin a little awkwardly. Pippin, though was busy looping the leather around Merry’s wrists, then around the thin, vertical dowels that provided some of the decoration of their headboard. He buckled everything down, the leather stiff at first, and made sure they weren’t too tight around Merry’s wrists.

And then he sat back, straddling Merry’s waist, wiggling a little with impatience. “Okay. You know the rules, Merry-mine. You just hold on, and let me take us for a ride.” Pippin knelt down, his erection rubbing against Merry’s belly a little bit, making him bite his lip very very hard. He pressed a kiss to Merry’s throat, just below his chin, and continued. “You say stop, at any time, and I’ll stop. You need the cuffs loosened,” Pippin’s grin grew mischievous, “maybe I’ll loosen them.” And he kissed Merry, hard, not pulling back until Merry’s head was thrown back, his lips bruised with kisses.

He trailed his hands down Merry’s arms, stroking the soft skin on the inside, over battle-hardened muscle. His hands continued, across his lover’s chest, tweaking stiff nipples. Merry cried out a little at that, pressing forward, but his sigh turned to a moan when Pippin soothed with his tongue, swirling the tip of it around each of the nubs.

He continued downward a bit faster, feeling Merry hard against his thigh, and starting to get rather uncomfortable himself. Pippin sucked and licked as Merry arched his back, straining against the leather, which bit lightly into his skin. There might be red marks later, but nothing Pippin couldn’t soothe away with his tongue, or possibly the much-used tin of salve nearby.

“Oh, if I could get my hands on you, Pippin Took,” Merry gasped out. And then he told Pippin exactly what he would do, and it was so nice, Pippin had to stop and move and lie against Merry so they could kiss again, long and urgent, tongues pulsing in each others’ mouths. Pippin ground down against Merry, unable to stop his hips. Merry moved his hips back, and Pippin had to bite down a little on Merry’s shoulder. Heat and electricity flooded from the base of his spine, and Pippin cried out and held on to Merry as his body shuddered with pleasure.

For a while, there was no sound but that of Pippin breathing deeply, sometimes kissing Merry lightly on the lips. When he’d gotten his breath back, he laughed suddenly, and licked his lips. “Well, that wasn’t quite what I’d planned, Merry-love, and you were very naughty to say those things to me. No matter, though,” and his eyes turned a bright, sparkling green, “just lay back, and don’t move if you can help it.”

Merry gasped at the first touch of Pippin’s tongue to his ear, but obeyed, lying back against the pillows as best he could with his arms still up over his head.

Pippin started off slow, building Merry up to a slow burn. He used tongue and lips more than teeth or fingers, and traced the lines and angles of Merry’s body, painting him with heat and soft touches. Merry occasionally keened softly, but Pippin held his hips down and lay on his legs, forcing Merry to press back into the bed as his only release. He made his way down slowly, still teasing Merry with light touches and the softest of kisses, until he was face-to-groin with his lover. Then, strong hands curved around Merry’s thighs, squeezing at his rump. Pippin took a deep breath, and slowly took the hardness before him into his mouth, sucking gently when he’d almost reached the base. Merry gave a strangled cry and tried to jerk his arms free; instead he wound up wrapping his legs around Pippin, his ankled crossed in the small of Pippin’s back.

Moving carefully, Pippin bobbed his head up and down, turning his eyes up to look at Merry. Half-lidded blue eyes met his for a moment, before Merry threw his head back, moaning. Pippin withdrew quickly, and half-pushed himself up. “Look at me,” he ordered, having liked that gaze meeting his, and Merry blearily raised his head again, meeting Pippin’s eyes. Pippin again took Merry’s hardness in his mouth, sucking a little at the tip before he swallowed it again, the thick vein running underneath it fitting against his tongue perfectly. It was only a few moments later that Merry’s face contorted, his hands pulling forward again, and Pippin gasped at the beauty of it all, even as he swallowed. Merry cried out once, and then his eyes left Pippin’s as he let his head drop, his body sinking down onto the bed in perfect relaxation.

Pippin pulled back, and, with a little kiss to Merry’s belly, he crawled up to the head of the bed again. He dimly noticed his arms were shaking a little, from exhaustion or excitement or both, when he reached to undo the leather cuffs. Merry helped as much as he could, shaking his hands free and then reaching to wrap his arms around Pippin.

Pippin, too, was just as happy to cuddle close to Merry, lost in afterglow and the sweet, tired sensation of sweat drying. Merry halfheartedly tugged the comforter at the end of the bed up, tucking it around himself and Pippin, and Pippin was grateful for the warmth, but he secretly thought he might be able to keep warm forever, there in Merry’s arms.

“So, you liked my little gift?” he asked idly, running his fingers through Merry’s hair after they’d readjusted themselves so that Merry lay with his head on Pippin’s chest.

A soft laugh was Merry’s reply, followed by a kiss to Pippin’s bare chest. “Yes, very, very much, lovely one. That was almost worth having to wait for each other.”

Pippin laughed too, almost giddy with the sweet, warm sensations of having just thoroughly loved Merry, and now having his weight resting on Pippin’s chest. “Almost. Let me see your wrists, meleth,” he commanded gently. Merry rolled onto his side and held his hands up for Pippin to examine.

“Oh, you did get marked up, Merry-mine,” he commented, kissing the red marks and soothing the worst with his tongue a little. “All over,” Pippin continued with a raised eyebrow, running his fingers over the bitemark on Merry’s shoulder.

“Mmm-hmm,” Merry said, going back to wrap his arms around Pippin’s waist and snuggle up to his chest. “Liked gettin’ ‘em too,” he said with a little squeeze, and a yawn.

“Of course. Why else would I do it, silly hobbit,” Pippin teased, and returned to stroking Merry’s hair, reveling in the feel of it against his fingers, and the way the firelight turned it to gold. Merry simply gave a wordless mumble, and drifted off to sleep, carefully planning to wake before Pippin. Those leather cuffs had gone under his pillow, after all.

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