Title: High
Pairing: Merry/Pippin
Rating: PG-13 for drug use and a kiss
Summary: Merry and Pippin make good use of the Old Toby they find in the wreckage of Isengard. Just a fluffy little ficlet.
Author's Note: Inspired whilst watching RotK EE extras for the millionth time. I find stoned hobbits to be an incredible turn-on, I don't know why, but, anywho, I was watching Merry and Pippin be lovely and very, very high and was wishing that I could get my hands on the full tape of that. However, as that is clearly not an option, I decided simply to write it meself. Oh, and we shall assume, for the sake of this fic, that pipeweed is similar too marijuana.
"Mmmph." Merry nuzzled himself into Pippin's neck, murmuring nonsensical sounds of contentment against his young cousin's skin. Pippin giggled breathily, attempting to glance down at the head burrowing itself just below his jawline.
"That tickles, Mer."
Merry continued nuzzling until Pippin shoved him clumsily off to the side so that he tumbled onto his back, where he lay, chest shaking with a high, giddy laughter to match Pippin's own.
"Mmm… 's good to be here with you, Pip."
"Yeah…" Pippin agreed absently, distractedly watching the smoke drifting from his pipe in insubstantial silver whorls in the late afternoon light. He reached out, letting the smoke curl around his slender fingers, watching dazedly as it dissipated in the slight breeze.
"No, really," Merry continued, prodding at Pippin's shoulder, "Just to sit and smoke" he took another draw from his pipe, closing his eyes blissfully, "and-and be with you, like. Doing nothing and having a wonderful time about it. 'S like being back in the Shire."
Pippin looked over, his moon-huge pupils focusing this time, and smiled a slow, content smile. "Whoah… that's a bit profound, that is. 'S like we're home, 'cept we're not." He furrowed his brow, trying to figure that out. Merry whooped with laughter.
"Oh Pippin, you silly ass! It's just a- a whatsit, a figure of speech!"
Pippin pouted at Merry, who looked straight back at him with complete seriousness. The young Took couldn't hold back another giggle
And suddenly there was Merry collapsed on top of him, cackling dizzily, laughing into his neck. The sensation made Pippin laugh too, an infectious giggle bubbling up inside of him, and the two of them lay there for several infinite moments, just laughing. Merry, Pippin discovered, smelt of pipeweed smoke, and beer, and fresh, green summer, none of which were at all objectionable.
And then there were lips on his, Merry's lips, and Pippin found that he tasted just like he smelled. It was awkward and sloppy and beautiful, and made him want to laugh at the wonderful absurdity of it. It was astonishing; he had never even considered loving Merry in that way, but now, in this beautiful hazy moment, it seemed ridiculous that he might be doing anything else at all.
Merry pulled away, leaving Pippin with a small, muzzy almost-smile on his face, gazing at Merry with an expression almost of awe, a reverential wonder. Merry smiled, and Pippin, once again, giggled.
"Love you, Merry-mine"
"Do you?"
"Mm-hmm…"
"Love you too, Pip."
A comfortable silence fell, during which Pippin picked up his discarded pipe, re-packed it, and took another deep drag of the pungent leaf. He held it in as long as he could, until he was dizzy, and then let it out- spiraling, blue-grey wisps which danced off into the shadow of the tower of Orthanc until they could no longer be seen. Looking down at Merry who was, once again, nuzzling into his neck, he smiled, content to the very core of his being, and let his eyelids flutter shut.
Pippin hadn't been this high in ages.