Pippin awoke to Merry's snoring and found himself in an awkward position. He couldn't quite surmise how he and his friend had come to be tangled in such a manner. His snoring cousin lay partially atop him, his left arm draped across Pip's chest and his hand dangled over his right shoulder. His left leg was entangled with Pippin's, and his face was buried in his cousin's left shoulder.
Merry's snoring got louder and more annoying each time he took a breath. Pippin tried delicately to remove his friend without waking him, pushing him lightly but firmly. Abandoning his gentleness, he shoved Merry's shoulder.
"Merry, you're hurtin' me," he said with a final shove, rolling the Brandybuck onto the blanket beside them. Merry glared at his cousin, eyes half-open. He groaned, irritated at the rather rude awakening he had received.
"Pip, I was sleeping..."
"Merry," Pippin chimed, motioning to their tangled legs. "What's this about, then?"
Merry looked down at their legs, and blushed. "Oh," he breathed as he unraveled himself from Pip. "I was dreaming. Sorry, Pippin."
Pippin's green eyes lit up with his characteristic mischief. "What sort of dream?" he asked, hopping up on his knees and glowing with childlike curiosity.
"Peregrin Took," Merry scolded. "That's none of your business!"
Pippin began to bounce. "It was about a lass, wasn't it Merry? Tell me, tell me! You must!"
"You're too young to know of such things, Pip," Merry muttered, already rolling over to return to slumber. "Go back to sleep."
Pippin pouted in the direction of his friend. "But Merry," he whined. "I'm in my tweens! I'm not a baby anymore! Come on, Merry. Tell me!"
"Sleep, Pippin," grunted Merry.
Defeated, Pip rested his head on the pillow yet again. What could Merry possibly be dreaming about that he couldn't share? The pair told each other everything.
He stared at the stars, appreciating the sky. The cousins had decided to sleep outside rather than in the rooms the Elves had provided for them. Rivendell was lovely, but he did miss the Shire. Merry had become hardened even in the short time of their adventure. Pippin hoped that they could go home soon, and that everything would be like it was before. His whole life he craved adventure, and now that it was thrust in his lap, he wanted only to hand it back. The hobbit felt the fear and uncertainty well up in him slowly. He had seen too much for his years already, just in this short journey.
"Are you awake?" Pippin ventured with a shaky voice. "Pippin," came the muffled response from his cousin. "I said go to sleep!"
Pippin flinched at the admonishment. "I only wanted-- Merry-" he managed, before the tears came. "I want to go home," he pushed out between sobs.
Merry quickly realized the hurt he had caused and rolled over to take Pippin in his arms. "Shhhh," he soothed.
Pippin continued to weep as he spoke. "Frodo could die. I've always wanted an adventure but I never wanted anyone to get hurt. You're so different, Merry. I just want things to be like they were." Pippin's words became muffled and unintelligible as he cried softly the arms of his cousin and best friend.
Merry held onto him, unsure of what to say. He squeezed his eyes shut and rocked Pippin gently, trying his best to comfort him. Every sob stabbed Merry deeply. He hated to see his friend in such pain. He could feel his shoulder becoming wet with Pippin's tears.
Pippin's crying softened, and turned to shaky breathing. His hands wandered over Merry's chest, around his sides and locked at his back. He embraced his friend, holding onto him as if he would fall. He shifted his head around Merry's so that their foreheads were pressed together. Merry opened his eyes to gaze into Pippin's. He could see the teardrops among his eyelashes, and the tracks of other tears trailing down his face. His darling cheeks were flushed, his lip quivering, holding in a sob. The moonlight reflected off the young Hobbit's face, showing Merry just how angelic the boy could look.
Merry's heart stirred in a way he never thought it could. He was developing emotions most unbecoming of a lad for another lad.
"Merry," Pippin hissed, his eyes widening. He leaned forward, his lips tentatively making contact with that of Merry.
The realization of what they were doing hit Merry, and he yelped, releasing Pippin and sprawling backwards.
"I-I-have to go!" he stammered, getting to his feet and running in a random direction.
"Merry!" Pippin sobbed, his hands outstretched futilely in the air.
Merry dashed down the hall and burst into the room the Elves had provided for him. He slammed the door and leaned against it, panting. Frantically, he locked it.
What just happened? He'd kissed Pippin, his best friend. He'd been Pippin's closest companion since they were small; he'd watched the younger Hobbit grow up. What could have possessed Pip to want to kiss him?
He leaped onto the Elf-sized bed and buried his face in the pillow.
This wasn't natural. Lads shouldn't feel this for other lads. This is meant for lasses, and only when they're married. Merry was sure of it, his father told him so.
Still, that dream. He dreamt of Pippin's soft curls caressing his face as he kissed him. He imagined grasping his young cousin to him in a loving, passionate embrace. He dared not think about what more he had dreamed of. It was not an uncommon dream for him, much to his own dismay. He'd often backed away from sleeping beside his cousin at night, troubled at his own inner thoughts.
How could he think of Pippin this way? He'd been there to watch him grow up, to mentor him and protect him, as well as cause all manners of mischief in the Shire. This wasn't right, not between two boys and not between two so close as they.
Merry could feel his face get hot, burning in both shame and arousal. As much as he hated himself, he craved to feel his friend's lips again. He couldn't face Pippin the next morning. How could he, with the knowledge of not only the kiss, but also having abandoned the weeping Hobbit when he needed Merry the most?
He plowed his face deeper into the pillows and sobbed himself into a restless sleep.
Sam rounded a corner into a dark corridor. He balanced the bowl and pitcher on the tray he held, slowly making his way down the hallway to Frodo's room. Turning another corner, he was laid flat on his back before he realized what had happened. The pitcher, bowl and tray flew into the air and crashed onto the stone floor with a thundering clatter. He heard a shocked cry as he fell. Sam couldn't stop his head from smacking against the cold ground. He was blinded with the pain that the fall sent through him.
Shaking off the shock, he looked up to see young Pippin sprawled on the ground in much the same position as Sam landed. He tried to catch his breath as the collision had knocked the wind from his lungs.
"Mister Pippin! Are you alright?" Sam helped the stunned younger Hobbit to his feet, forgetting his own shock and pain.
Sam looked him over, brushing the dust off him. His eyes came to Pippin's face, and observed the fresh tears that had been there. Pip's eyes were still glazed from the shock of the impact with the floor, and he was flushed.
Sam and Pippin locked eyes for a moment. "What's wrong, Mister Pippin?" Pippin just lowered his eyes.
"Have you seen Merry?" he whispered.
"I saw 'im dashin' down the hallway a little while ago, toward his bedchamber, Mister Pippin. Is there anythin' I can help you with?"
"Thanks, Sam," Pippin shouted, already several feet away and running.
Sam shook his head as he spied the broken dishes littering the ground. He'd have to walk all the way back for more.
Pippin ran at full speed down that hallway. His head still reeled from its hit on the ground. A million thoughts raced through his head.
At first, he'd laid on the ground and wept. Merry had abandoned him. How could he have been so stupid? He'd often been curious about kissing another lad (usually Merry), but never thought he'd gather the courage to actually try it. This was not how he had planned it in his mind. He was supposed to kiss Merry, and then they were supposed to get closer and be happy. He felt so stupid for thinking Merry might actually want him. The hobbit had only wanted to get closer to Merry, his only source of comfort. He was convinced that Merry would never want to speak to him again.
Soon, he realized that he couldn't let it end that way. He had to at least try to fix things. He had nothing left to lose. Determined, he marched from their sleeping place and walked toward the building that housed their bedchambers. Determination soon became desperation, and he started to run as fast as his body could carry him.
Poor Sam. He should remember to apologize to him later.
Stopping abruptly, Pippin realized that he had reached Merry's assigned chambers. He stepped slowly toward the door, pressing his hands against it. The small Hobbit was easily swallowed up by the huge Elvish doorway. He pressed his ear gently against the door, straining to hear what was happening inside.
He could hear soft cries, sobbing. He reached for the door handle and turned it. It clicked. Damn. Locked.
He rapped at the door delicately, not wanting to startle Merry. "Merry, please," he whined desperately. "Please, let me in."
Silence.
Defeated, he slumped at the door. It was obvious to him that Merry simply didn't want him there. He pulled his knees against his chest, forming himself into a little ball. "I love you, Merry," he whispered into the night.
He slept there.
Merry was startled by the knock at his door. A stab of apprehension struck him, and his breath caught in his throat. He could hear a voice, but couldn't recognize it.
He couldn't face anyone, not now. He ignored the beckoning, curling up in the sea of blankets around him.
Merry rolled over in bed and stared at the ceiling. He didn't want to wake up. His stomach filled with dread as the memories of last night's events flooded back to him. He didn't want to face the world after what had happened.
He silently wondered if Pippin had told anyone. Panic welled up in him, but was quickly subdued by the realization that Pip would likely be just as embarrassed by the incident, if not more.
His mind drifted back to the episode. Waking up to his cousin entwined with him had not been at all unpleasant. He remembered how it felt to have the boy in his arms, weeping, relying on him for comfort. He recalled how Pippin's hair smelled of home, how he had gripped his back and held onto Merry, and how his heartstrings played when Pippin had breathed his name.
Merry shook the memory from his mind as he slid around and dangled his legs over the edge of the oversized bed. He hopped down and his feet stung slightly as they slapped the stone floor. Examining himself, he straightened his clothes. He had been in such a hurry the night before; he'd simply slept in his day clothes.
He hung his head and slowly trudged toward the door, knowing that whatever was about to happen when he left his chambers, it was not likely to be pleasant. Running his fingers through his sandy curls, he sighed. He reached out and unlocked his door. Gripping the handle, a shot of anxiety resonated within him as he turned it.
He felt a sudden pressure against the door and jumped back. When he released the door, a sleeping Pippin tumbled in the room, swinging the door wide. Groggy, the disheveled Took groaned and shook his head. He smacked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. He stopped dead as he realized where he was, his face dropped to a scowl with the sudden recollection of the night before.
Merry stared down at the younger hobbit, his mouth agape. He didn't know quite what to do. In his shock, his urges were random and he didn't know on which to act. Part of him wanted to run away as fast as he could. Another part wanted to scoop up his cousin and make sure he hadn't hurt himself when he tumbled.
Pippin's expression turned quickly turned from one of unpleasant surprise to one of his characteristic pride. His chin jutted out and he glared at Merry, as if to challenge him. It was so like Pippin, that child-like arrogance; Merry had to stifle a giggle at the silliness of it.
"You silly Took," Merry jested, reaching his hand out to assist his cousin off the floor. "Did you sleep there?" he asked, forcing down the dread welling up in him.
"You locked me out," Pippin complained, giving Merry a look of both pride and pain. Pippin grasped the older Hobbit's hand and allowed himself to be hoisted from the ground. "Well, you kissed me," Merry spat, giving his friend and angry look.
His prideful attitude failing him, Pippin's face contorted as tears came. Merry forgot all his anxiety as his heart melted and he took his cousin gently into his arms. A soft cry escaped Pippin's lips as he rested most of his weight on Merry. He pressed his face into Merry's shoulder, soaking the same garment for the second time.
Merry comforted his friend until the sobs that racked his tiny body subsided. He guided Pippin onto an oversized chair and sat beside him, letting him recover. Pippin sucked in a shaky breath as he finally got the courage to look up into Merry's face.
"I'm sorry, Merry," Pippin squeaked, choking back more tears and lowering his eyes again.
Merry's inner struggle ended when he saw Pippin's lower lip quiver pitifully. Merry placed a finger and thumb to Pippin's chin, lifting up his head and looking into his eyes. Merry's heart fluttered as it had before, and this time he could not bring himself to deny it. He loved Pippin. All the denial, the self-loathing and disgust, the confusion and the shame melted inside him as he looked into in the eyes of his best friend.
He gently brought his face down and brushed his lips against the younger Hobbit's.
Pippin's eyes went wide with shock for a moment, and then closed with the tranquil thought that somehow, he had made things better. He shifted his lips to match the Merry's movement, unsure of what to do. He felt Merry's hands slide through his curls, carefully framing his face and deepening the kiss.
Merry's tongue slipped between his lips and Pippin accepted it with a sigh, allowing his more experienced friend to take the lead. Their kissing continued for what seemed to Pippin like hours, until Merry broke it. Pippin whined and looked at his new lover questioningly.
He took Pippin's hand and hopped down from the chair, the younger Hobbit following close behind. He led Pip to the oversized bed, and they joined each other on top of it.
Merry smiled sweetly at Pippin, stroking his cheek. "I love you, Pip," he whispered, resuming their kiss. His hands found Pippin's buttons and began to work them apart. "I love you, too," Pippin whispered into Merry's mouth.
Sam ambled down the hallway, humming quietly to himself. It was elevensies and both Merry and Pippin were absent. It was not like them to miss a meal, so he was sent to make sure the cousins were all right.
Approaching Merry's bedchambers, he could see that the door was still open. Concerned, Sam quickened his pace, picking up to a trot. Reaching the door, he poked his head in. "Mister Merry? Is everythin' okay?" Sam began to stammer in shock upon the realization of what he was looking at. "Oh-oh dear," he stuttered as he stepped back. He gawked at the sight of Merry and Pippin, tightly pressed together, wearing only the blankets. They were a tiny blotch of color compared to the large Elvish bed. He could tell that they were still asleep. Sam was far too embarrassed to wake them up. He pulled the door shut with the greatest of care. Smiling strangely, still confused, Sam walked back the way he came.
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