Two of a kind
Warnings: Contains sexual relations between an underage Hobbit and one that has come of age! Ohoo, dangerous (really Pippin is 27, but that's still not of age, is it now?)… oh, and to return to my own nature, this is SLASH, and fluff and a bunch of other things, but this is not a summery, so I'll stick to the basic warnings.
A/N: I could write SLASH that made your heart and head explode, but then would exclude my stories, and I wouldn't want that, so I'll keep the slash nice and polite and cuddly. And this is more Movie Canon, really. Oi, and let us just do a recap on the Rules on Incest, shall we? Of limits: father, mother, uncle, aunt, brother, sister, half-siblings! End of list! Cousins get hitched all the time, and it's legal an' all, so don't even start on the Merry+Pippinincest talk, 'cause it ain't even valid.
Disclaimer: Credit to the dead guy. Though he would turn in his grave, if he knew what I was doing to his little Hobbits!
It was one of those days that later was forgotten in the haze of killings and fighting and running for their lives. Someone had knocked over a bucket of white paint on the blue sky and skated across it in childish glee.
It had been a beautiful day, and the evening looked as if it would be just as warm and beautiful. The soft lights cast by lanterns and fireflies gave Rivendell an even more mystical gleam and a silky wind whispered in the leaves. The first stars had come out of their hiding and so had two little Hobbits.
Merry and Pippin had found a soft patch of grass in one of the upper gardens where they had spread out in extension of each other, so the top of their heads just barely touched.
"A Rabbit." Pippin whispered taking up an old game they had played back when the world still made sense. Merry smiled. It was a pleasant reminder of his cousin's continual innocents. "An Oliphaunt!" he said pointing to a gathering of clouds to the far north.
"It has to be real animals, Merry!" Pippin said indignant.
"Oh, does it now? What about the times you've said dragon?" Merry asked. Pippin shook his head. "Bilbo says that he's seen a dragon, so I believe him."
"Bilbo's off his bloomers, ain't he? He went on an adventure, and that makes a man nutty." Merry said matter-of-factly.
"We're on an adventure, Marry." Pippin had the urge to point out.
"Even so. And we still have each other, haven't we? So we'll only loose half our mind and come out of this just slightly batty." Pippin smiled at the thought and continued Merry's predictions. "And we'll tell our grandchildren how we met a Ranger and travelled all the way to Rivendell."
Merry laughed "No one will believe us, though." His hand stretched above his head and met Pippin's in the air. Their fingers entwined and locked together.
"But we'll believe each other, and Sam and Frodo will believe us."
They were silent for a while. Then Pippin whispered: "It's so quiet here I can hear the blood pound in my ears." Merry laughed and the two nuzzled closer so that Pippin's head rested on Merry's chest. Merry ran his hands through Pippin's hair and played with the younger Hobbit's blond curls. Pippin turned his head and breathed warm air on Merry's face. "Remember what old Bilbo always said? That we…"
"…Finish each others sentences, yeah. We're two of a kind, pip."
"Peas in a pod." Pippin agreed and nuzzled Merry's hand gently. Merry's free hand found the soft skin on Pippin's stomach and let his fingers caress his lover's chest and biceps carefully. Pippin smiled hopefully and responded by turning and pressing his lips against Merry's. Making love with their clothes on had become a very practical habit since they left their home in the Shire and their skills on this matter had also improved greatly.
Merry allowed his hand to caress its way under Pippin's waistband and into the younger Hobbits pants, painfully aware of their exposed position. Pippin moved so that he was on top of his cousin, one hand travelling through Merry's dark hair, the other between Merry's legs on top of his clothes, gently rubbing his cousins growing erection.
Merry withdrew his hand from Pippin's pants and instead he started rubbing his groin against Pippin's. He caught his younger lover's mouth with his and muffled a groan that escaped Pippin's mouth.
They had both had other lovers, but none that knew them like they knew each other. And they were so close; they knew what the other needed, what made them moan in pleasure and curl up in pure satisfaction. And they came at the same time, their uneven breath finding the same rhythm, and their two hearts beating as one.
"I don't think I'm build for adventure, Pip." Merry whispered softly kissing Pippin's neck. Pippin turned his head to look Merry in the eyes. "Don't be silly, Merry!" Pippin insisted. "Every day for the rest of our lives will be an adventure."
Merry thought for a while. "Every day for the rest of our lives is a long time, Pip."
"And we'll be together for each end every one of them." Pippin mumbled and turned his head to watch the star-sprinkled sky. And suddenly Merry started singing a song with his soft voice. And every time Pippin thought about that song his thought would fall on Merry, his sweet, gentle, beloved Merry.
They loved each other; they always had and always would. It wasn't a rare thing amongst Hobbits who by nature was lovers, whatever that might include. But still they kept it to them selves, loving each other with out words, with out reason, but with all the passion in the world.
Home is behind, the world ahead
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadow, to the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight.
Mist and shadow
Cloud and shade
Hope shall fail
All shall fade…
Note: So, I have been writing a lot of LOTR ficklest lately, totally neglecting my Harry Potter story, which is cruel, because people are waiting for chapter five, which, by the look of things, is long time coming. But this is fun, playing a different field for a change. (Am I the only one, who catches these little references to my sexuality, which pops up once in a while un-asked for? Well, I'm sorry about that. I hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable. But then again this is a slash-fic so I suppose you wouldn't read this if it did…)
Eam.
Ps. To those who asked: No, no one calls me Emma! That's just plain mean.