Title: A Prankster's Reward
Pairing: Frodo/Merry/Pippin
Rating: NC-17
Categories: slash, canon, PWP, silly
Author's name: Ruby Nye
Author's email: shmi@bantha.org
Summary: Pippin's been playing a lot of tricks; Merry and Frodo play a
trick on him.
Warning: Mild Bondage
Disclaimer: I am borrowing Professor Tolkien's wonderful world and
characters for no other gain than the joy of playing in Middle-Earth for a
little while.

Author's note: This is pure, unredeemed, unleavened hobbitsmut. I feel bad
to write this, after the thoughtful stories I have tried to send out and
the thoughtful stories I have to work on, but an image of Pippin popped
into my head, an image you'll see later in this tale, and I was simply
_forced_, I tell you, to write this bit of hobbitsmut. Forced by my
subconscious, at any rate.

I'm not entirely sure how old they are here. Frodo is in his mid-forties. 



 "I thought he'd have _less_ energy, Frodo!" Merry confessed in a
dramatically quavering voice, and Frodo had to stifle a laugh. Pippin and
Merry had become lovers in the flesh that past summer, which Frodo for one
wholeheartedly approved of, not least because he thought it might steady
his flighty young cousin a little. In some ways it had; Pippin and Merry
might tease and wrestle as much as ever, but Pippin knew when Merry was
looking at him, and he looked at Merry the same way. However, in other
ways, Pippin was even wilder.

With the coming of spring Pippin had gone on a rash of practical joking
that astounded even Merry, though Frodo thought that might be largely
because so many of the jokes involved Merry as victim rather than as
co-perpetrator. Pippin put frogs in cream and sleepers' hands into warm
water, weakened his sister's bodice laces, switched pipeweed for tea,
booby-trapped nearly every door he could, and replaced Frodo's ink with
stuff that vanished as it dried, not once but twice.  

And to Merry...

"So there I was," Merry said in injured tones, his head on Frodo's bare
shoulder (and Pippin sound asleep in the next bedroom), "with Gilly's head
on my shoulder and her hand on my knee" --- Frodo snorted, having a good
guess where hands and heads more likely were; Merry glared at him, and he
kissed Merry's cheek apologetically and nodded for him to continue---"and
up he pops! Gilly screamed the whole way back to the Hall! And I couldn't
even strike him, because he's, well, he's Pippin!"

"Oh, Merry," Frodo managed before he burst into laughter; Merry glared
again, and when Frodo didn't stop laughing, tickled him unmercifully until
they were both breathless, and then kissed him as thoroughly as if he were
trying to gift his own breath to Frodo. "Ah, you are so
unsympathetic," Merry sighed into Frodo's ear, his husky tone and tongue
tracing Frodo's eartip quite belying the words.

Frodo laughed breathlessly, leaning into the caress of Merry's mouth,
which was trailing down the side of his face. "I think I have an idea of
what we might do to Pip in return." 

"Hmm, what, and does it involve a bed?" Merry asked, his voice muffled by
Frodo's throat; Frodo moaned and wound his hands in Merry's hair and took
a deep breath before he could speak again. "Oh, yes, a bed, and rope, or
scarves if you'd rather."

Merry lifted his head at that, looking surprised and intrigued; Frodo
grumped at the loss of lips on his skin and quickly laid out his
plan. Fortunately, Merry's reaction to the plan was delightfully
enthusiastic, and definitely involved his mouth as well as the rest of
him.





Two days later, or rather a bit less, it was Pippin and Merry in Frodo's
bed; Merry had replied to Pippin's insistent demand for some of his
after-supper strawberries by feeding him one, so Pippin had fed him one,
and things had gone from there. Frodo had vanished shortly after supper,
saying he was taking a walk, so Pippin hadn't resisted when Merry drew him
into Frodo's bedroom rather than their guest bedroom; besides, as he
cheerfully noted, the comforter Frodo currently had on the bed was vibrant
red anyway, so they didn't have to worry about the strawberry juice
getting everywhere.

"I don't, ooh, remember this quilt, actually," Pippin mused breathlessly
as Merry licked and nipped his way up his neck. "Where, ah, _there_, yes,
do you think it, mmm, came from, Merry?"

"I think you should kiss me," Merry replied, and gently bit Pippin's
earlobe. Pippin giggled and forgot the quilt and turned to kiss Merry,
sliding his hands up Merry's bare back to twine his arms round his
neck. Merry growled a little and reached up to grasp Pippin's hand and
press his wrist down to the bed, and Pippin arched into the restraining
grip, feeling Merry's strength against his; Merry grasped the other hand
and pinned it as well, leaning on Pippin's arms as he growled again and
kissed Pippin ravishingly, diving between Pippin's lips with his
tongue. Pippin growled back, and giggled, and tangled his tongue with
Merry's, not knowing where this fierce mood had come from to overtake his
usually playful Merry, but enjoying it regardless.

Then he felt something soft and solid loop round one wrist and pull firm,
and he froze. Merry kept kissing him nevertheless, and Pippin tried to
lift his other hand to help himself push away, only to realize he couldn't
move that hand either. Pippin let out a surprised squeak, and only then
did Merry lift his head, to give Pippin that triumphant smile---

---that he wore when he'd successfully pulled off a trick.

"Merry?" Pippin asked, in a voice that was supposed to be firm but came
out sounding thin and worried; Merry merely wiggled more firmly between
his legs and smirked at him. Pippin tilted his head back to see what was
holding his hands, but stopped in mid-tilt as he found himself looking at
a lean, familiar belly. His gaze rolled up, over a velvety-skinned chest
and elegant collarbones, a long neck framed by dark curls, and up to
Frodo's face, which wore a very, very similar smirk to Merry's. From what
Pippin could see, that was all Frodo was wearing. "Hullo, Pip," Frodo
said. 

"Frodo! But---what---hoy!" Pippin started struggling in earnest now,
tossing his head back to see that pale soft rope was wound round his
wrists, binding them to the carved bars of the bedhead. "Untie me!" He
tried to kick, but Merry was already leaning on one leg, and Frodo caught
the other. "What are you two on about?"

"I told you we should gag him," Frodo said conversationally to Merry, who
tilted his head invitingly as he replied, "but he has such a pretty
mouth"; Frodo smiled and leaned towards him. "Hoy!" Pippin shouted again
as his cousins kissed, paying him only enough attention to keep his legs
pinned. "All right! Whatever it is I won't do it again! Now untie me!"

They stopped kissing, but only for Frodo to nuzzle Merry's ear and whisper
something in it which Pippin couldn't catch, which made Merry
laugh. "Merry, please!" Pippin pleaded, and he thought he perhaps saw
Merry's eye flick to him, between one blink and the next, but then Merry
kissed Frodo again, and all the while they kept holding Pippin's legs,
even when he arched his back and tried to buck them off. 

Pippin collapsed against the damnable red quilt, panting. He was helpless,
and his cousins were kissing each other, and they were _ignoring_
him. "Merry? Frodo?" he asked in a small, tremulous, contrite voice, and
finally they looked at him again; at least they were noticing him now,
even if they were still smirking. "Pippin," Frodo said, in an odd version
of his _will-you-behave-sweetheart?_ voice, "if I let go of your leg do
you promise to not kick me?" Pippin started to nod, but Frodo raised one
eyebrow, and he managed to gasp, "Yes, Frodo, I promise"; Frodo got up off
his leg and leaned forward on the bed to stroke Pippin's cheek. "You never
ever noticed me beneath the bed, did you?" he asked, smiling wickedly, and
Pippin could only shake his head.

"Pip, if I let go, do you promise not to kick me?" Merry eased a bit of
his weight off Pippin's leg as he spoke; Pippin tried to regard Merry
sternly, which was rather difficult from flat on his back with his hands
tied to the bed, as he replied, "Yes, I promise, even though you deserve
to be kicked." Merry laughed at that, and leaned forward, pulling off his
breeches, then planting his hands on either side of Pippin's chest. "Poor
Pippin", Merry said cheerfully as Pippin attempted to glare up at him; it
was too hard not to smile into those familiar grey eyes, so Pippin shut
his own, turning his head when he felt Merry lean closer. "Don't kiss
me," Pippin said somewhere in the vague direction of Merry's descending
warmth. "I'm cross with you."

Merry paused for a moment, then continued leaning forward, and Pippin
tensed and shut his mouth tightly, steeling himself to resist no matter
how wonderfully Merry kissed him. However, Merry veered slightly and laid
his face to Pippin's neck, licking him where his throat joined his
shoulder, then slowly biting him.

"Ah!" All of Pippin's resolve melted into the wet heat of Merry's mouth,
the gradually tightening teeth sending shocks of painful, rousing pleasure
all through his body. Somewhere beyond the roar of his blood in his ears,
Pippin heard Frodo chuckle, then felt him climb onto the bed, undoing
Pippin's braces and breeches and drawing them off, but Pippin couldn't
spare much thought to being undressed when most of his mind was awash in
the feel of Merry atop him, straddling him, warm and firm and strong, now
sucking on the bite, and how his arms strained against the soft ropes as
he writhed and moaned and wished he could sink his hands into Merry's
hair. 

Merry leaned back, putting his weight on his knees on either side of
Pippin's waist. "Still cross with me, Pip?" he asked, and Pippin did have
to yield him this triumph. "I would be," Pippin replied with as much
dignity as he could scrape together, considering he was flushed and
panting and about as hard as he could be up against Merry's backside, "if
I could remember why I ought to be." Frodo and Merry both laughed at that,
and Merry leaned down to kiss Pippin warmly, sliding sideways to lie
beside him, arms twined round him.

"So, Pip," Frodo said, sitting beside Pippin's head and starting to undo
his shirt buttons, "you asked us what we were about, tying you up like
this."

"I hope you enjoy the rope," Merry put in as he tweaked one of Pippin's
nipples, provoking a yelp. "We asked Sam to get us something suitable. Of
course, considering the fake weeds of green paper you planted in his new
flowerbeds."

"Sam?" Pippin cried, or rather, squeaked, being still breathless from the
nipple tweaking. "He's not under the bed too, is he?"

Frodo laughed so hard at that he nearly fell off the bed; Merry had to
reach over Pippin and grasp his wrist to save him. "Oh, no, no, Sam isn't
joining this little party, no."

"In fact he looked a bit scandalized to hear of it." Merry
giggled. "Muttered something dark and disapproving about Brandybucks."

"Oh, he may sound disapproving, but he laughed before he left." Frodo
turned his amused blue gaze back to Pippin, who looked helplessly back up
at him. "And we still haven't told you why you're tied up."

"Is it those paper weeds?" Pippin asked, twisting his wrists a bit. The
rope was soft, but firm, and the loops held true. "I won't do it again, I
promise, and I did apologize---"

"Laughing the whole time," Frodo said, tapping a fingertip on the point of
Pippin's nose. "And you jellied the cider, and finished off all the
gelatine, and you replaced my ink with disappearing ink, and poor Pearl's
bodice lace burst when she was dancing. Furthermore, you've become very
dangerous indeed to unsuspecting drinking partners."

"And I would have gotten to tumble Gilly if you hadn't scared her
off," Merry added in wounded tones. "By the time I left Brandy Hall she
_still_ wouldn't talk to me. "

Frodo reached over Pippin to stroke Merry's hair. "So we decided to teach
you a lesson," he concluded, "about how it feels to have a trick played on
you."

"It certainly was a grand trick," Pippin agreed. "I see your point, and I
promise to behave better."

"That's lovely, Pippin," replied Merry, as he tweaked the other nipple,
and Pippin squealed again, "but we aren't untying you. Not until were
satisfied. "

Well, then. Pippin stopped twisting his hands and resigned himself to the
situation, grasping the ropes that crossed his palms on their way to
looping round the bars of the bedhead, feeling them comfortably holding
him down, almost like Merry's hands had before.  This might not be so
awful, he thought, looking up at Frodo, amused and aroused, and then over
at Merry, wickedly, hungrily smiling. "What do you want?" Pippin asked as
innocently as if Merry's hand weren't dancing up and down his hard flesh. 

Frodo laughed, and leaned down to kiss him, as Merry whispered in his ear
between licks, "Pippin, what do I ever want? You, of course."

That was the end of conversation for awhile. Merry and Frodo were too busy
using their mouths on Pippin, biting him and licking him and sucking on
him, trading his mouth between them in ravishing kisses, and Pippin was
too busy moaning and gasping and pleading for more, writhing and clutching
his bonds and pleading to be untied so he could touch Merry and
Frodo. Every time he asked that, Merry and Frodo would lift their heads,
smirk at each other, and redouble their efforts to reduce Pippin to
incoherence.  

For some strange reason, Pippin came to a moment of lucidity when he
nudged the back of Merry's throat, with Merry's tongue curling round him,
Merry's hands pressing down his hips and teasing him underneath; Frodo was
tucked up against Pippin's side, all but inside his shirt with him, and
was sucking on the spot beneath Pippin's ear where jaw melded into neck,
one hand in his hair and one on his chest. Pippin felt himself trembling,
arching and suspended,  as time slowed for a moment, till he could feel
each individual finger of the twenty on his skin, feel Frodo's heart
beating against his side and his own pulse between Merry's lips, feel
Merry's warm breath over wet curls and Frodo's nose nuzzling into his
hair. Pippin felt all this in one endless, fleeting moment; then Frodo
lifted his head, and smiled, and kissed Pippin, thumbing his nipple, just
as Merry trailed his teasing fingers down further and wriggled them
between. Pippin gasped into Frodo's kiss, and time lurched forward with
the racing of his heart, sweeping him up into delirious, spiraling
delight. 

Frodo drew back a little, sucking on Pippin's lower lip, and Pippin tried
to gasp out words, but he was too close, all he could do was moan; his
cousins could feel his body tensing with the rising urge, and they were
relentless. Frodo covered Pippin's mouth with his own, and Merry sucked
harder, and the song of Pippin's blood rose to a scream as he writhed
against the embrace of the ropes round his wrists and Merry holding down
his hips, until that scream burst forth from him as his peak exploded
within him for an all too brief infinity.

Eventually Pippin sank back down into himself, rediscovering his gasping,
shaking, bliss-filled body, warmly embraced by two handsome dear hobbits,
as if he were only newly inhabiting it. Pippin's head lay cradled in the
crook of Frodo's arm, Frodo's other hand over his heart, while Merry lay
with Pippin's legs draped over himself and his head propped up on one
hand. "Pip, love?" Merry asked, his other hand gently stroking Pippin's
belly, and Pippin managed to make some sort of pleased sound in reply.

"Don't go to sleep," Frodo teased, kissing Pippin's closed eye. "We're not
done with you yet." Pippin forced up heavy eyelids to regard Frodo
indignantly. "I--" Pippin began hoarsely, then coughed and swallowed and
tried again. "I am quite awake, just let me catch my breath. And untie
me."

"Aww, Pip, don't you like not having to do any of the work?" Merry leaned
over to kiss Pippin's chest as he wriggled up to lie alongside him,
smoothing Pippin's shirt out of the way so he could press skin to
skin. "You should see yourself, how you look, flushed and wriggling and
arched like a bow. Besides, with your hands safely tucked up here you
can't pinch me."

"Or run off and hide the clothes," Frodo agreed, trailing his fingers up
over Pippin's collarbone.  Pippin snorted with feigned indignation, the
best he could manage for a retort while the aftermath of his peak still
pleasantly hazed his mind and four hands danced over his skin. After all,
it wasn't as if he could kick Merry and Frodo, even if they hadn't been
wound around one leg each, poking him in both hips.. Pippin wriggled a
bit, just feeling them around him, and Merry leaned over him to kiss
him. "See what a state you've put us in?" Merry whispered over Pippin's
mouth, as Frodo reached over to stroke both their ears.

"I've put you in?" Pippin whispered back as the familiar heat spiraled up
within him again. "I haven't even laid a hand on you, by your own
doing." He made a show of tugging at his bonds, and Frodo chuckled and
softly bit his shoulder, as Merry mercilessly stroked his chest, nipple to
nipple and back again. "Yes, Pip, you have, and that's your best trick of
all," Merry murmured just before pressing his mouth to Pippin's again.

With the first edge taken off his arousal Pippin could manage to be a bit
more present this time, could manage to not have all his consciousness
swept away by pleasure. He kissed Merry back as boldly as he could from
his prone position, feeling Merry's lashes flutter against his face as he
sighed into the kiss and pressed it deeper. Pippin hooked his leg over
Merry's, drawing his toes up Merry's ankle and calf and thigh, Merry
squirming against him the whole time, before winding that leg round his
waist to draw him close;  Merry moaned at that, so hard he was starting to
drip against Pippin's belly, and Pippin would have smiled if he
could. Mayhap he didn't need his hands for this after all.

Frodo made an appreciative noise as he watched them, his fingers playing
in their hair, before sitting up and rolling off the other side of the
bed. Pippin briefly considered trying to break away to see where Frodo was
off to, but Merry ran teeth gentle-roughly over his upper lip and claimed
all his attention; there was rummaging going on, somewhere beyond the
little world of Pippin and Merry entwined on the bed, but Pippin paid it
hardly any heed as Merry's arms slid round him, hands lightly raking down
his back to cup his backside, and he wound his other leg round Merry's
waist.

Frodo returned to sit on the bed by Merry's legs. "The impatience of
youth," he said, prodding Merry in several places until Merry released
Pippin's mouth and looked up at him. "Frodo, what---oh, oh
yes. Definitely, yes! Thank you!" Pippin turned his head to see what had
pleased Merry so, but his view was blocked as Merry rose up a bit and
Frodo leaned down and they kissed, long and deep. Pippin watched them, his
dear beautiful cousins, kissing each other, and felt fire dancing beneath
his skin.

Then Merry rose up to kneel over Pippin, cool air swirling over heated
flesh, and Pippin made a protesting noise and tried to pull him down again
with his legs; Merry laughed and fell, but caught himself on extended
arms, holding himself up off of Pippin. "Merry, come back here!" Pippin
complained, wriggling against him.

"But Pippin, I need a chance to use this." He tilted the item in his hand
a bit, and Pippin glanced over at it; it was a little jar of
salve. "Oh!" Pippin breathed, looking up into Merry's love-dark eyes, then
over at Frodo, smiling fondly at them both and idly stroking
himself. "But, but"

"But what, Pip?" Frodo asked, leaning on one hand and lifting the other to
run it over Pippin's lips. Pippin licked the fingers moving slowly over
his mouth, tasting Frodo on them, and wanted more. He had to take a very
deep shuddery breath before he could talk. "But what about you, if Merry
is going to tup me?"

"Ah, Pippin, I'm glad you asked." Frodo's smile went from fond to naughty,
as Merry leaned down to lick Pippin's ear before pushing himself up to
sitting again. "After all, you _do_ have a pretty mouth." Frodo leaned
down, and Pippin pursed his lips for a kiss, but Frodo merely brushed his
lips against Pippin's, brushing them over his chin and throat and jaw and
brow as he whispered low and hot against Pippin's skin. "Would you like
that, Pippin? Both of us at once, Merry tupping you, your mouth on
me? Caught between us, feeling both our pleasures at once? Would you like
that?"

"Yes, oh yes," Pippin heard himself gasping, indeed wanting nothing else
in all the world at that moment, feeling he just might burst from Frodo's
words alone, but above him Merry cleared his throat. "Um, that's quite the
picture, Frodo, but it might be a bit much for him." Frodo pulled back a
moment, his hand on Pippin's cheek, to look at him, and Pippin saw the
look in his eyes go from glittering to warmth. "I suppose you're right,
Merry," Frodo sighed, and kissed Pippin's brow, then sat up. "It would be
a bit much."

Disappointment clashed with desire within Pippin. "No!" he insisted,
bucking up enticingly against Merry, who gasped and nearly dropped the pot
of salve. "No, I want it. I want you, both of you." Merry and Frodo both
looked at him, their eyes round; they looked at each other, then at Pippin
again. "Are you sure?" Merry asked, his hand over Pippin's heart, holding
Pippin's eyes with his. Pippin swallowed, feeling as if he might fall up
into Merry's eyes were he not bound to the bed, and nodded; before things
could slide too far towards seriousness, he feebly added, "even without my
hands I'm a match for you both," which made Merry laugh and lean down to
kiss him again.

Frodo leaned down to kiss them both. "So, how shall we arrange this so no
one gets kicked or elbowed?" A little wriggling and arranging, and one
near-miss with Frodo's foot and Merry's head, and Pippin was lying on his
side, his head in Frodo's lap and Merry behind him. 

"Are you sure you don't want to untie me?" Pippin asked while he could
still speak, mostly to hear Frodo and Merry laugh; Merry bit him gently at
the nape of his neck, laughter vibrating through his mouth into Pippin's
flesh, as Frodo stroked his cheeks. "You know I can do quite well with my
hands to help."

"Ah, but I think you can do well without your mischievous hands, Pippin
Took," Frodo replied, slowly drawing a finger over Pippin's mouth. "And
you're not getting untied till we've both peaked."

"If you don't do well you'll stay here," Merry threatened in a husky
voice, his hands covered with salve and full of Pippin's backside, "and
we'll just come and feed you strawberries every so often."

"It would keep you from playing any more jokes," Frodo agreed, winding his
hands in Pippin's curls to help guide his head. _I should bite you_,
Pippin thought lovingly, unable to speak anymore.

Sideways and without his hands wasn't as difficult as Pippin might have
thought; Frodo certainly sounded as if Pippin were doing well, as he
moaned and murmured, "yes, Pip, yes," his fingers trembling in Pippin's
hair, not pressing or pinching, just lightly holding. When Merry wiggled
one finger in Pippin gasped and moaned, and Frodo felt Pippin's moan and
moaned in response; Merry heard that and moaned himself, face buried in
Pippin's hair, and Frodo slid one hand forward through Pippin's curls to
stroke Merry's cheek. It was like a loop, Pippin absently thought as he
drew circles with his tonguetip and Frodo made a happy choked sound, a
loop connecting the three of them. Then Merry added another finger, and
Pippin stopped thinking and closed his eyes and just felt.

Pippin felt the rope circling his wrists and clutched in his hands as he
hung onto it because he couldn't clutch his cousins. He felt Merry's hands
on his waist, Merry's lips on the back of his neck, as Merry tried to
enter him slowly and Pippin growled impatiently and bucked backwards,
feeling the pain, knowing the pleasure that came after it. He felt Frodo's
fingers in his hair tensing till they went rigid, as Frodo gasped, "oh,
you two--!", the words shading up into a moan as his whole body pulsed,
sticky saltiness against the back of Pip's tongue. Pippin trembled,
flushed with heat from two directions, and concentrated against the
wonderful distraction of Merry filling him and moaning in his ear, and
swallowed and sucked, caressing with his tongue, until Frodo's trembling
eased and he chuckled breathlessly and gently pushed Pippin's head off his
lap; Pippin settled his head on his arm and blinked up at Frodo, who
smiled proudly down at him and leaned down to kiss him. "I knew you'd do
well," he whispered against Pippin's lips, sliding down to lie against
Pippin's front, kissing his way across Pippin's jaw to kiss Merry's
panting mouth. "Your turn," Frodo whispered as his fingers curled around
Pippin, who briefly wondered which one of them Frodo meant; then Merry bit
him on his shoulder and started to pump harder, and when Pippin cried out
Frodo caught his mouth in a warm damp kiss, and Pippin was beyond
wondering about anything. 

"Pippin, Pippin," Merry was moaning, his mouth roaming Pippin's shoulders,
his hands tight on Pippin's waist; "Yes, Pippin," Frodo was whispering
against Pippin's lips, his hand stroking as Merry's hips rocked Pippin
back and forth. _There_ Pippin thought, _yes, there_, and the loop of
pleasure arced through them, higher and brighter on each pass, and Pippin
went up and over, feeling Merry peak with him, feeling himself cry out
into Frodo's kiss.

When Pippin came down again it took him a moment to realize that the ropes
he was holding had gone slack. He opened his eyes and blinked in surprise
at the darkness; the twilight had faded and  the candles had burned out,
leaving only the fire to dimly light the room. Frodo was snuggled against
his front, Merry against his back; Pippin drew his arms down slowly, and
Frodo opened his eyes and smiled and reached to untie the ropes from his
wrists and rub his shoulders. "How are you, sweetheart?" Frodo inquired.

Pippin thought for a moment. "Sleepy. Wonderful! Hungry. Merry,
Merry?" That last was directed over his shoulder at what appeared to be a
soundly asleep lump of Brandybuck; Frodo laughed softly and kissed
Pippin's cheek. "You sound fine." More sternly, but with eyes twinkling in
the firelight, Frodo added, "are you going to keep playing so many
tricks?"

Pippin wound his freed arms around Frodo. "If I do will you do this to me
again?" Frodo considered that for a moment, before finally replying,
"no"; Pippin pouted, but before he had a retort Merry mumbled "Pippin, how
in all the Shire are you still talking? Go to sleep."

Frodo laughed softly at that, and leaned over Pippin to kiss Merry's
cheek, and kissed Pippin on the mouth, and yawned. "Keep talking if you
like," he advised Pippin, "but I am going to sleep." Pippin would have
wrinkled his nose at that if he hadn't been yawning, and, well, he was
rather tired, and he could eat in the morning. Snug and warm between his
cousins, Pippin closed his eyes.





 Pippin awoke on his back with Frodo's arm draped over his stomach; the
red comforter was pulled up and wrapped around them both, and the sun was
bright outside, and Merry was apparently already up. He wriggled and
stretched, which made Frodo open one eye. "Good morning!" Pippin said
brightly, kissing Frodo's brow; Frodo shut the eye, withdrew his arm from
Pippin's waist, and rolled over. 

"The sun's up!" Pippin continued cheerfully, nuzzling Frodo's hair. "It
looks like a beautiful day, and Merry is already up, and I'm
hungry!" Frodo grunted. "Would you like for me to get up and see to
breakfast?"

That last got Frodo to sit up. "Peregrin Took," he grumbled, rubbing his
hand over his face, "don't you dare touch my kitchen." Pippin merely
smirked, and called "I love you, too," as Frodo climbed out of the bed and
belted on a robe, then opened the door----

----and a wooden cup fell on him, covering him from head-curls to
foot-curls in  water and feathers. Pippin stuffed a hand into his mouth,
which almost muffled his squeak, as Frodo stood there, dripping and
down-covered, his mouth open. Finally, Pippin ventured, in a small voice,
"it's not me, I woke up with you."

Frodo shut his mouth. Another moment, and a giggle resounded from far down
the hall, and Frodo was off and running, yelling, "Merry Brandybuck, I
have more rope!" Pippin fell over back onto the bed, kicking his feet and
laughing.