A/N:  Great thanks to my beta-readers Thuri and Mizz Marvel :)

Pippin woke up the next morning tangled in blankets, the sound of typing in his ears. He attempted to rub the sleep out of his eyes, untangle himself and get out of bed all at the same time, succeeding only in falling off of the bed.

The thump and a somewhat annoyed “Ow!” got Merry to turn around, not even bothering to hide a smile as Pippin finally succeeded in freeing himself.

“Good morning, Merry,” he declared with great dignity, but his lips were twitching even as he said it, and he was laughing when he was in Merry’s arms, straddling his hips and greeting him with a kiss.

“Good morning yourself, Pippin Took,” Merry said, one eyebrow rising as Pippin made himself comfortable on Merry’s lap. “You’re in a good mood.”

“Mm-hmm.” Pippin playfully laid his head on Merry’s shoulder. “I spent all of yesterday crying on your shoulder, I think, and I’m tired of it.”

“Pip, it was hardly the whole day. And you know I don’t mind,” Merry chided, and got a kiss on the nose for his troubles.

“Of course I know. Mer, I really am happy. I feel…lighter, I guess.” Pippin then found himself squeezed into a tight hug, and shrieked as Merry spun them around on his chair. They were both laughing when they came to a stop, and Merry kissed Pippin quickly on the lips.

“Lovely, Pippin-my-Pip. It’s good to see you happy,” Merry commented.

They had stopped facing the computer, and Pippin tugged on Merry’s ear when he saw the screen thick with text. “How long have you been up, Mer?” he asked idly, skimming what was written.

“Oh, four or five hours, I guess. I set the alarm to go off at six, and I think it woke you a little bit, but you went back to sleep when I told you to. My typing didn’t wake you, did it?” Merry finished with a yawn, nibbling on Pippin’s fingers when they went to tweak his nose.

“Merry! You know, you do need to sleep sometime,” Pippin chided. “No, I’m serious!” he protested when Merry laughed. “You’ve hardly gotten more than four or five hours every night—well, since I can remember.”

“I can sleep when I get the dissertation done, love. Just a few more weeks, anyway,” Merry protested.

“Unh-hunh.” Pippin didn’t sound convinced, but he lay back against Merry again.
“What’re you working on now?” he asked idly, wrapping one of Merry’s curls around his finger.

“Just tracing some words across Europe. I think I found some Arabian influence, in a few of the phonemes; they start to change too quickly, over the course of decades instead of centuries,” Merry explained, his voice rising in excitement.

“My wise Merry,” Pippin declared, successfully tweaking Merry’s nose this time. “Can I rip you away from this utterly fascinating and just as utterly impenetrable research for a bit? I believe you promised me a shower together, last night.”

“That I did, lover-mine. And you may rip me away for as long as you wish!” Merry stood, forcing Pippin to get up as well.

“Unh-hunh. Heard that one before.” But Pippin smiled as he said it, and led Merry into their bathroom with a little wiggle of his butt.

With a good bit of help from each other, they were both undressed and in the shower relatively quickly. The shower was small, but held them both with just enough room to spare. Pippin sighed happily, hot water beating down and Merry’s arms wrapped around him.

Merry moaned a little, his shoulders flexing and relaxing under the hot spray. He rested his head on Pippin’s shoulder, and let the kinks in his muscles relax, aided by Pippin’s clever fingers.

“Now, Merry. We need some soap to make this truly enjoyable,” Pippin said, pushing Merry away a little. “Just think—all slippery and slick and Merrrrrrrry!” He trailed off into a wail, one hand ineffectually pushing at Merry’s chest, as Merry did very, very nice things to his left ear.

“Oh, I love you,” Merry breathed, and Pippin simply gripped his shoulders, holding tight while kisses were trailed down his jaw to his shoulder.

With a final, small, kiss to the very tip of Pippin’s shoulder, Merry stepped back, his hands around Pippin’s waist, holding him upright.

“Uhm. Yes. As I was saying. Soap. Goodness, Mer, that tongue is dangerous.” Pippin blinked, rubbing water out of his eyes, and smiled at his lover, his tongue caught slightly between his teeth. He soaped up the washcloth, and Merry held still, albeit with his hands sliding down to squeeze Pippin’s rump, earning him a mock-annoyed growl.

Pippin worked methodically, washing Merry’s shoulders, lifting his hair to reach the back of his neck, preceding the washcloth with a little kiss. He ran the washcloth down Merry’s back, scrubbing dried sweat away and leaving the skin warm and glowing.

“Sweetie, how’d you do that?” Pippin asked, concerned, running the washcloth over a nasty bruise on Merry’s hip.

”Oh. Uh, I kinda stumbled into the corner of my desk the other day. It doesn’t hurt, just looks nasty,” Merry explained, grinning a little sheepishly.

“Ah. Poor love,” Pippin teased, and knelt down to kiss the bruise, soothing it a little with his tongue when the soap had been washed away. While down there, he scrubbed Merry’s legs, tickling a little behind one knee, and then gently, almost ritualistically, washed Merry’s genitals.

Playful again, Pippin ran the washcloth up Merry’s stomach and chest, pulling him close with one hand wrapped firmly around his left buttock, giving it a squeeze, when slick skin met slick skin. Pippin’s sigh was swallowed in a kiss, and Merry pulled him close, his tongue plunging into Pippin’s mouth and inviting entrance at the same time.

“Ummmm. So warm you are, my dearest love,” Pippin murmured, Merry leaning against the shower wall and pulling Pippin along on top of him.  Their bodies slid together, slick with water and soap, and Merry’s skin was luxuriant under Pippin’s seeking fingers.

Their loving was quick, couched in twisting, jerking hips and cries muffled on each other’s shoulders.  Quick, but glorious and joyful, made up of teasing and laughing and sweet kisses.  Pippin dramatically slid to the floor of the shower at one point, claiming his legs no longer worked, although they wrapped around Merry’s waist quickly enough when he snuggled down on top of Pippin.

Leaning against Merry, his hair getting washed, Pippin smiled, feeling warm and whole down to his toes.  Merry’s fingers were strong and soothing, turning the shampoo into a massage, and Pippin relaxed into his arms, still unmoving even after all the suds had been washed out.  Merry didn’t bother him about it, merely wrapped his arms around Pippin’s back and held him, heart glowing from the look on Pippin’s face. 

It wasn’t until Merry shut the water off that Pippin truly came back into himself, blinking a bit at the world as though it were brand-new.  They toweled off and dressed quickly in the bedroom, occasionally exchanging shy, happy glances.

“Back to the grind,” Merry said ruefully, taking his seat at the computer again. 

“Oh,” said Pippin, sounding a bit disappointed.  “D’you think you’ll be free later this afternoon?  Just for a walk, maybe go down to the park?  Logan Circle’s a ways away, but it’s nice out.”  He’d really wanted to spend the rest of the day walking around the city with Merry, maybe having a picnic lunch, but Merry had been so very busy, of late.

“Of course, love.  Just a few more hours.”  Merry looked up briefly to smile at Pippin, who returned it before heading to the kitchen to fix them some lunch.  It wasn’t long before he emerged, a bowl of pasta in each hand, singing quite loudly.

He entered the room with, “Oh I see, by the angel beside me,” feeling rather Bob Dylanish.  “That love has a reason to shine!”  Crossing the bedroom.  “You’re the one I adore, come over here and give me more!”  Merry turned around, smiling widely at the sight of Pippin, hands full and grinning madly as he came over to stand in front of Merry.  “Winterlude, this dude thinks you’re fine,” Pippin ended, carefully setting down the full bowls and plopping down in Merry’s lap.

“You like the singing?” he asked, teasingly.  Merry managed to reply in the affirmative through his laughter, and his sudden need to grab a hold of Pippin and kiss him repeatedly.  Pippin also felt the need to return each of those kisses; so really, it took awhile before he moved to sit cross-legged on the bed with his lunch.  Merry wolfed his food down quickly, just then realizing he hadn’t eaten at all since the night before, and was roundly scolded for it by Pippin.

“Merry!  I’m a cook--granted, one that’s working as a grease-slinger right now--but still!  You can ask me to fix you something,” Pippin scolded, and Merry looked properly contrite.  Pippin rolled his eyes and made a mental note to make some things that could be eaten quickly, with one hand, and have them close by for the next few weeks.

“Back to dissertation-zilla,” Merry sighed, and Pippin returned to the living room to curl up with a battered paperback of Asimov stories.  He would be dearly happy when Merry’s paper was done, and he’d have a free moment, now and again.  The stress wouldn’t be gone--not till Merry’d found out he had passed and would get his Master’s--but things would be a bit better.

It was a few hours later, though still quite light by the slow summer sun, when Merry finally emerged from the throes of linguistic history.  He found Pippin curled up on the futon, the book tossed aside.  He had wrapped himself up tightly, arms clasped around his knees, and face hidden, and Merry worried at first that something was wrong.  But when he put an arm around his lover, trying to wake him gently, clear eyes greeted his. 

Pippin looked very young for a moment as he yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and Merry felt a pang.  He wished he could have been there, when Pippin was young, watching him grow up, and protecting him from all those who had hurt him in this lifetime.  Impulsively, he pulled Pippin close, planting a wet kiss on the ear closest to him and making Pippin giggle and squirm.

“What’s up, Mer?” he asked softly, making himself comfortable in Merry’s arms.

“Still feel like that walk?”  Merry asked, bumping noses with Pippin a little, making him giggle.

“Of course.  What time is it?  I feel like I slept forever.”  Pippin stood up and stretched, noticing the time himself.  “Oh, only two hours.  Good.”  He ran a hand through his hair once more before sliding on some sandals, and following Merry out the door.

They watched the sun set, as best they could surrounded by trees, in a tucked-away corner of Fairmount Park.  Merry had explored every foot of trail in, and many bits off of, the huge park that enervated the city, and had long ago discovered this little nook.  They sat on a layer of earth over a huge boulder amidst the roots of trees that had looked down on the city when it was still young, filled with men sweating out a declaration of freedom, and a new government.  They had seen slavery, yellow fever and diphtheria epidemics.  They had seen the land they grew on protected, museums spring up around them, countless feet run, jog or bike their way past.  They now watched the sun set, two young men at their feet. 

Merry had stretched out, his head in Pippin’s lap.  He played with Pippin’s hands idly, twining their fingers together, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the calluses the guitar strings had left.  “Do you have any pictures of yourself, from when you were a little kid?” he asked suddenly.

Pippin shook his head slowly.  “Pearl might have a few, but the rest are with my parents.  Why?”

Merry shrugged a little, tilting his head up to meet Pippin’s eyes.  “No reason, just curious.  Bet you were a cute kid,” he teased.  “All curls, and you had freckles!  Hah, I’m right, you were a little, freckly, curly-haired kid, running all over the farm!”  Pippin had started to laugh and Merry had turned over, impulsively starting to tickle him.  Pippin squirmed out of the way, reaching for Merry as well, and the two of them spent quite a while evading each other while trying to get tickles in.  Merry had rolled out of the way quickly, but Pippin dove after him, victorious until Merry could wiggle away and neatly flip Pippin onto his back.

They both lay back, laughing breathlessly, and occasionally wiping tears away.  Merry turned over to his side, resting his head on the palm of one hand and regarded Pippin.

“Do you ever miss the farm?” he asked, curious.  Pippin looked off into the distance for a moment, but met Merry’s eyes eventually.

“No,” he said with a shrug.  “Not really.  I hated farm life, you know that.  I’ve ranted to you enough, anyway.  Sometimes I miss my parents,” he said quietly, “but mostly I’m just glad to be out of there.  Stupid stank-ass cows,” Pippin finished, making a face.  Merry laughed, but more because he knew he was supposed to, than really feeling it.  The sun had set by then, and the light was going a dusky gray when the two began their walk home.

Pippin sighed happily, stealing a glance at Merry.  He was handsome, yes, but also so kind, really caring.  A definite pain in the ass, Pippin decided, at least when he used up all the hot water, or now, when he spent all his time working on his dissertation.  But Merry turned, just then, and smiled at Pippin, and for just that moment, everything was perfect, caught in the warmth of those blue eyes.  Pippin remembered how to breathe, and smiled as wide as he could for Merry.

“Race you to the end of the block!” he yelled, setting off with Merry right behind him, as always.

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