Feedback: Yes, please.
Summary: Merry knows they shouldn't do it, but Pippin has his own opinions on the matter.
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their respective owners, which is not I. I make no profit from this endeavor.
The Indecencies of Youth
"We can't keep doing this."
Pippin stretched luxuriously, unmindful of his state of undress as he managed to not only spill most of the blankets onto the floor but the spare pillow as well. With a scowl, Merry leaned over to retrieve them, cocooning himself in the blankets against the chilly air on his bare skin.
"And why not, may I ask?" Pippin said, swallowing a yawn and Merry rolled his eyes in exasperation. It wasn't as if they hadn't discussed this before, or tried to, at any rate. Pippin usually got bored with the topic and would begin a crusade to distract Merry from it. Memories of those particular distractions were almost enough for Merry to consider putting it off yet again...but, no. He'd delayed it quite long enough.
"Well, people are likely to think it's a bit queer," Merry pointed out. "We're a bit old to blame this on youthful lust."
"You are, perhaps. I'm still as fresh as a spring flower."
"A spring chicken, rather," Merry muttered and earned a pillow to the head for his troubles. A loud shout from the hallway outside, followed by several voices raised in laughter made Merry flinch, and he looked fearfully at the door, even though he well knew it was locked.
Pippin was staying with him at Brandy Hall as one more mouth at the dinner table was hardly to be noticed. Still, that Pippin was staying in his bedroom, which only had one bed, with no pallet made up for his cousin, simply had to be noticed eventually. Certainly just the gossip would be of interest as the topic of the week to be chatted about in Buckland.
With a loud sigh, Pippin wrapped the sheet around him, although just barely covering anything properly. Not out of any sense of modesty, Merry was certain; he doubted that Pippin had any. More like Pip knew the package looked more attractive with a bit of wrapping. He tried to ignore how very right Pippin was about that. Ever since Pip had come into his maturity, Merry had been hard pressed to ignore how very -pretty- he was; hardly proper for a boy but true nevertheless.
Since Pippin had taken it upon himself to start warming Merry's sheets at night, in nothing but bare skin and a welcoming smile, well, it was nigh on impossible to ignore Pippin when he didn't want you to.
"You care too much about what other people think," Pippin chided him, interrupting his mental perusal of Pippin's finer charms. "Do as you like and don't worry about it. Uncle Bilbo always did."
"Uncle Bilbo didn't have his parents asking him when he was going to give them a grandchild to dandle on their knees," Merry grumbled before he'd thought about it, and winced almost immediately, knowing very well what Pippin would think of that.
He wasn't disappointed; Pippin guffawed, loudly, rolling onto his side as sheet slipped dangerously low, showing a hint of the pale curves hidden beneath its edge. "Is that what this is about? Tell your mum and dad that there are plenty of children about in Brandy Hall to dandle or otherwise."
"It's hardly the same."
"Indeed? Well, it's hardly like they need you to carry on the family name."
Talking to Pippin was useless; he obviously didn't understand. Merry rolled away from him to face the wall, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.
"Then you want me to leave?" Came from behind him, calm and easy, and Merry caught his breath, unable to think of what to say. He knew somehow, with great certainty, if he said yes, Pip would leave and they would never do this again. Oh, he was sure to see Pippin from time to time; they might even be quite good friends. But there would always be something between them, a distance that had never been there before...just the thought made his eyes sting and his stomach twist in a queer way.
Pip was waiting patiently, for once, and Merry reached out and took his hand, squeezing it hard as he shook his head, nearly strangling on his words before croaking, "No. Don't leave."
"I'll stay as long as you want me, Merry," said Pippin, and something in his tone made Merry turn back to him, brow furrowed as he studied the younger hobbit. Pip leaned down and kissed him, tenderly, one hand sliding over Merry's chest and down over his belly.
Merry cried out softly, arching up into nimble fingers that were doing positively wicked things to him. Wickedly, wonderful things, so much so that when they stopped he was too shocked at first to even complain. He opened his eyes, more than a bit dazed, to see Pippin hopping out of the bed and pulling his trousers on.
"Where are you going?" Merry cried in dismay.
"Home," replied Pippin cheerily. "My mum always told me not to overstay my welcome or I shouldn't be asked to come again."
Merry watched him dress in mute shock, hardly able to believe Pippin was leaving until he was at the door.
That twisty, hurtful feeling was in Merry's stomach again, as he watched Pippin walking out his door. It hadn't quite shut when Pippin stuck his head back in, and smiled sweetly at him. "Come visit me next time," Pip offered softly. "Anytime you like. I promise no one will be pestering you about grandchildren. Least of all me." With a last wink, he vanished, closing the door behind him as Merry gaped at him with an expression usually reserved for fish.
He started laughing then, helplessly, twisting in the blankets as he finally caught his breath enough to shout, "I'll be glad to visit you, Pippin! Just you wait!" hardly caring if Pippin heard him, or anyone else did for that matter.
With a last rueful sigh, Merry curled up in the blankets and willed his body into believing that, no, there wasn't going to be any more games to be played that day, and instead began to consider ways of having his revenge.