ardae i mordor (beyond the shadow of Mordor)
dolphin
The sun was already casting long shadows across the White City when Merry and Pippin finally reached the house they shared with all that remained of the Nine Walkers. Pippin had returned fourteen days ago from the last battle of what was now known as the War of the Ring, and since then, he had been lodged in the Minas Tirith's Houses of Healing to recover from his injuries.
Almost all of Merry's time since the fall of Barad-dûr had been spent either sitting beside Pippin or sitting beside Frodo and Sam after the Healers began letting visitors near them. Even after Pippin had awoken, the worry had been so great that not a thought of anything other than his health had crossed Merry's mind; he had even forgotten meals several times, so engrossed in his youngest cousin had he been.
Being in love was harder on a heart than one thought.
But today, the Healers had declared Pippin sound enough to leave the Houses-on certain conditions. One of which being that he stayed in bed for the remainder of the day, to prepare himself for the celebrations that were coming any time now. As soon as the Ringbearers woke, Gandalf had said.
And so it was that the argument began.
"But Merry-!" Pippin sputtered indignantly. He was sitting crosslegged on his bed, trying to convince his self-made nurse that he didn't need to go to bed. It wasn't going very well. "I can't stay in bed forever!"
Merry shook his head, taking advantage of his protesting charge's weariness to strip him down and put him in a nightshirt. "The Healers said I could bring you here only if I put you to bed for the rest of today. And I did let you walk home, after all."
"But I'm not at all tired!" the other hobbit complained as he yielded reluctantly to his cousin's dressing of him. "And the wounds are nearly healed. "I'm ready to be up, Merry!"
"Well maybe you are, and maybe you aren't. But I'm not taking chances, Peregrin Took," Merry scolded seriously. "You frightened me out of ten years' growth with that mountain-troll stunt." His expression softened. "Although, I daresay Beregond and Bergil are thankful for your lack of self-preservation."
Pippin grinned ruefully. "I didn't exactly do it on purpose. Besides which, I could very well say the same of you. Attacking kings of Ringwraiths, indeed." The Took did a fair imitation of many a disgruntled old gaffer back in the Shire, warning against the great danger of getting into things above one's head. "Not at all a suitable occupation for a proper hobbit."
Merry grinned back, leaning forward to press a quick kiss onto the tip of his cousin's small, ever-so-slightly upturned nose. How he had missed being able to kiss Pippin! But in the Houses of Healing there were always far too many people around, both Healer and civilian visitor. There was never any guarantee that someone would not just walk in on you, and Merry had no clue whether the people of Minas Tirith approved of two males loving one another. Not to mention two male cousins.
The kiss earned Merry a blissful sigh. Finding that he rather liked that sound, the older hobbit tried another spot. The tip of one pointed ear brought forth a pleased squeak; the junction of neck and shoulder got another, deeper, sigh. Then, tentatively, Merry slid a hand around the nape of his younger cousin's neck, and lowered his mouth to Pippin's.
The younger hobbit responded readily by sliding his fingers up into his cousin's curls and taking a firm hold, not willing to be deprived of this moment by anything. be it bird, beast, or intruding visitor. Pippin's lips were as warm and soft as Merry recalled, and tongues slipped in before long, teasing at the insides of each others' mouths, battling for dominance; both found their breath being sucked away as the heat spread from their kiss into lower regions.
Pippin surfaced panting, his eyes fogged with that indistinct look that Merry had come to know as meaning that whatever they'd been doing was highly appreciated by him. He smiled blurrily.
"You ought to do that more often. It's very good for my health."
Merry looked him over, unable to stop gasping, but trying to be stern at the same time. "I probably shouldn't have, come to think of it. You're supposed to be resting..."
"The Healer only said that I had to stay in bed," Pippin reminded airily. "He never said you couldn't come to bed with me. And all of the others are out sitting with Frodo and Sam."
"Well. I suppose not," Merry complied doubtfully.
Taking the opportunity, Pippin latched onto his cousin's arm and pulled, tugging him over the edge of the mattress and into the midst of the bedcovers, thus proving that he was indeed almost fully recuperated. Or perhaps, Merry thought ruefully as he was pushed backwards into the sheets and pounced on with relish, just in need of a bit of love.
"Pippin!" he protested half-heartedly, catching hold of the tweenager's wrists as he began cheerfully peeling pieces of clothing off of them both. "We have plenty of time, you don't have to rush it," he offered by way of explanation, drawing his love down beside him to tuck into the inner curve of his body. Pippin sighed contentedly and settled in tighter, satisfied at the moment to let Merry take back his position on top.
"Go slowly," Merry continued quietly. "Like this." He demonstrated his point by slipping a hand up under Pippin's shirt, where he brushed lingeringly over a nipple while the other hand began working shirt-buttons free. The young Took made a small sound of appreciation and tried returning the favor, but Merry shook his head.
"Wait," he murmured into his cousin's ear, thumbing the nipple gently. "You're resting, remember?"
Pippin shivered. "But, you..."
"All in good time." Merry's tongue flickered once more over the shell of a pointed hobbit-ear, and he smiled to himself at the tight gasp of surprised pleasure. It really had been too long since they had done this last; but now the neglect only made it all the more sweet. Touching Pippin refreshed something that he had almost forgotten in all the dirt and trials of war.
He worked his way gradually downwards, loosening buttons and exploring every space of skin he could find. As the last button came free, he eased the shirt off, baring fair, rounded shoulders and a slight torso with its pair of alert, pale rose nubs. Merry gave an admiring sigh at the view.
"You're beautiful. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were related to an Elf," he said softly, smiling. Pippin lifted his eyebrows suggestively.
"Are you saying that you like Legolas?"
Merry pretended to consider. "No," he concluded after a moment, his voice hushing as he leaned up across Pippin's bare chest to breathe teasingly across his ear. "He isn't really my type...too tall..."
A quick breath hissed out of Pippin's mouth as the wisp of warm air traveled over the sensitive skin behind his ear and Merry's hand fell lower, beginning to work the edge of his nightshirt up.
"And his eyes aren't green enough..."
The hem of the shirt found its way slowly up over a hip; Pippin swallowed a whimper.
"Merry, please..."
"And his hair is all wrong," Merry went on softly, ignoring his beloved's outburst. "Too long and straight. He's rather boring too, you know...never gets into any trouble..."
One of Merry's hands made its way underneath the freed edge of Pippin's clothing, where it promptly began drawing little loops on his bared belly, circling slowly lower and lower, skimming over curved hipbones and the slight indent above that marked the younger hobbit's journey-hollowed waist but never touching the one spot that most wanted to be touched. Pippin's breath hitched rapidly in and out.
"...ohh...Merry, please..."
"Do you like this?" Merry asked quietly, cradling the back of his little relative's head in one palm while still tracing small patterns across his chest and stomach. He leaned down to nip along the line of his beloved's jaw and suck lightly at his bottom lip, before leaning still further into his lover's mouth and, as Pippin himself had once put it, 'conquering his territory with a will'.
Pippin's lashes fluttered low over his eyes as the breathtaking kiss ended, his breath shuddering out between moist, parted lips. His head swam, and the ache between his thighs was beginning to turn scaldingly hot. He tugged on his elder's trousers, smiling intoxicatedly and panting hard.
"You're too dressed, Merry," he gasped. "Get undressed..."
Merry grinned obligingly and obeyed, and before long they were twined around each other on top of the bedcovers, naked as the day they were born, moving against each other in feverish rhythm. Pippin laughed breathlessly, arching up into his cousin's body and lifting glassy eyes to his face.
"We're rocking the bed!"
Merry made a sound halfway between a cry and a laugh and buried his face in Pippin's shoulder. "Let the bed rock! There's isn't anyone around to hear us, is there?"
They came almost together; Pippin ever-so-slightly first, crying out and cupping Merry's shoulders for support. His shudders ushered his cousin over the edge.
They took a few moments to catch their breath, curled up together in contented silence; warmed in being together, and savoring the first true peace they had had since they first left the Shire. After a few minutes of this, Pippin whispered softly.
"I love you, Merry. But you've gone and made me sleepy, and you did it on purpose, didn't you."
"I love you too," Merry replied, half-asleep, ignoring the second part of Pippin's sentence entirely. Pippin sighed and took a second to reconcile himself to the idea before he too fell asleep.
"Oh, well," he finally conceded, snuggling closer to his cousin. "At least you have to go to bed too..."