Title: Always and Forever M/P (6/6)    
Series:  Coming of Age 
Author: Diamond (juweldom@yahoo.com ) 
Rating: NC-17 
Characters: Sam, Pippin, Frodo, Merry; pairings--M/P, implied:  F/M, S/P 
Category:  Angst, Romance, Humor, Drama 
Feedback:  Yes please--very new at this
Disclaimer:  Can I just have them all?  No really, all these characters are 
Tolkien's and I don't rightly know what he'd make of all this!  I do it all for 
love, not money.
Summary: Pippin gets his way.
Notes: Pippins's perspective.   I was looking to write a simple sex scene 
and immediately found that NOTHING with Pippin is simple.  Put Frodo 
and Sam in a room and they have straight forward hobbit luvin.  Put Merry 
and Pippin in a room and it's a whole lot more complicated!  Year is 1413 
S.R., Frodo is 45, Sam is 33, Merry is 31 and Pippin is 23.  
 
 
*****
Coming of Age part Six:  Always and Forever
 
 
*Pippin*
 
 
Of course this was all *his* fault.
 
Well *somebody* had to do something!  It hurt too much, Merry keeping 
him at arm's length and kissing everything under the sun with skirts, the 
strain Pippin felt when he visited Brandy Hall, like there was a shadowy 
figure looming over Merry there, and most of all the frustration and fear of 
not expressing his desires freely like he wanted to.  
 
It wasn't right.  He had noticed Merry looking at him whenever he thought 
he wasn't looking, had caught the way he kept contact between them 
carefully playful--and when he'd turned twenty-two the casual embraces, 
kisses and rough and tumble wrestling had abruptly stopped.  He missed 
it.  And he thought Merry did too.
 
So he'd kissed him.  On the lips, as best as he could, just to see if it would 
be as nice as he imagined.
 
To say it was nice was to say a rock was like a diamond, or a glass of 
water like the Sea.  Pippin hadn't known joining their mouths would be 
like joining their souls, that his heart would sing out as loud as his loins, or 
that close up the touch, taste, and smell of Merry would permanently be 
etched into his memory.  It was like coming home, like finding something 
you never even knew was missing.  It had to be love.
 
And then Merry had pushed him away.  That shove had hurt worse then 
the worst beating he had ever taken, worse than the worst argument he'd 
had with Merry, worse even than the time he broke his ankle falling out of 
a tree.  And it had hurt far far worse than the little smack up against the 
side of the Green Dragon.
 
Why had he brushed it off, acted like it didn't really hurt him that much?  
Pippin wasn't sure, really--maybe he hadn't wanted Merry to know just 
what a fool he felt, or maybe just because he always handled his troubles 
in a light manner--didn't make sense to show sadness, Pip figured, for if 
his friends saw he was sad, then they were sad too, and he didn't want that.
 
So he'd found Sam, dear old Sam with his heart out open for any to see as 
had an eye to look--silly, silly Frodo!  If he weren't so lost in himself, all 
his books and dreams, he should have seen it.  And poor Sam, just like 
him, in this matter at least.  The solution had seemed clear.  Share love and 
comfort with a dear friend, get some experience so he would know what 
he was doing next time, and wait just a little for Merry to see him more as 
an equal than a child tagalong.  Then try again.  Make Merry see that they 
belonged together.
 
Of course, it hadn't quite gone that way.  Pip didn't realize his actions 
would *hurt* Merry, and himself too, for he felt utterly wretched, as if he 
had broken faith, but there wasn't a faith to break, was there?  He wasn't 
Merry's--that was the whole problem!  So he was angry too, so angry he 
tried to hurt Merry more, and more, to make Merry cry.  See if there really 
*was* anything there, or if he really was just a foolish child.
 
When he saw the tears slide down Merry's cheeks, he knew he'd been right 
all along, but Merry was still trying to push him away, and it made him so 
angry!  He blinked away his own tears and managed to choke out, "Why 
don't you want me?"
 
Then something miraculous happened.  Merry threw his arms around him; 
Pip was still angry; he didn't need this to melt his anger and bring back the 
hurt, but then Merry was talking, and his words were so full of self blame 
and wretchedness that Pip felt the anger dissolving, felt himself melting 
into those strong sturdy arms, "Please forgive me, Pip; I know it's all my 
fault.  I do want you; I did want you there at the party, but I didn't want 
you to become like me; I wanted a *normal* life for you.  I only want for 
you to be happy, and I just don't see how you can with someone like me.  
I've been nothing but trouble since the day I was born."
 
Pip couldn't look him in the eye; now he understood why Merry had been 
so hard with him, had a glimpse of the way Merry saw himself.  Oh if only 
he knew what he truly was in Pippin's eyes!  "Then why . . . " but he knew 
why; he was just afraid to say it--did Merry think this was wrong?  Did he 
think Pip was wrong for pursuing it?
 
Merry told him he'd been the fool, not Pip, that he hadn't really believed 
what Pippin felt for him was more than friendship  And Merry told him he 
loved him.  Pippin told him he loved him too, had always loved him, and 
watched something beautiful come into his face, a light, a fire that he'd 
begun to think was quenched.  Then Pip admitted he also *wanted* him, 
and asked if that was bad, and he could see by Merry's half-smile that at 
least others certainly thought so.  
 
Then Merry took his hand and placed it in his lap, over his breeches and 
both his words and the hard organ all but pulsing under the thin fabric 
made Pip's eyes bulge and his mouth fall open in wonder and amazement. 
"I honestly don't know, Pip.  But I can tell you this.  I want you very badly 
too.  Very, *very* badly.  See?"  And no, Pip couldn't see it yet, but he 
could certainly feel it!  He rubbed, outlining the shape, and watched 
Merry's eyes roll back for a second before focusing on him with an 
intensity that made his cheeks burn and set aflame his own organ under 
the thin cover of the bathing robe he had donned after Merry and Frodo 
found him and Sam in bed.
 
Oh yes, that was need in Merry's face, and suddenly Pippin was staring at 
his lips and the little cleft in his chin and asking if they could try that 
kissing thing again.  And Merry did, oh yes he did, taking one hand at the 
base of Pippin's skull to guide him forward and hold him in place as he 
dragged his lips across Pippin's in a rough yet tender kiss which sent a 
shock clear down to his toenails.  
 
With a cry, Pippin threw his arms around Merry, then they were both 
hugging and kissing and pressing into each other--Pippin didn't feel quite 
close enough, even sitting next to him, so he edged in closer until he was 
literally sitting in Merry's lap and holding his dear face as he spread kisses 
over his cheeks, his eyebrows, his nose, back down to the lips.  He pressed 
in hard, the way he had with Sam; that had seemed to work so well, and 
Merry parted his lips and invited him to slide a moist tongue inside and 
really get a taste of him, and the more he tasted the more he wanted, 
squirming against Merry until his robe opened up--oh that was Merry's 
hands, doing that, silly him.
 
"Merry," Pip murmured with a chuckle, lightly scolding, as Merry pushed 
the robe down his shoulders and back to pool around his waist, his hands 
running feverishly over bare skin, hands so warm, so firm, rubbing into 
the muscles of Pippin's back, across his narrow shoulders, around his 
ribcage and down his belly until his skin positively tingled all over, yet 
still keeping their mouths plastered together, plunging his tongue into Pip's 
mouth in a rhythm that sent hot flutters down into his groin.  Pippin 
groaned and found himself slowly grinding Merry's hips, gripping him 
tight around the waist.
 
Suddenly it became too much to bear—to go from such misery to joy, and 
to actually have Merry here, in his arms kissing him—Pippin broke off the 
kiss and took one look at the rapture on Merry's face and burst into tears, 
cradling Merry's head against his bare chest.
 
"Pip, love, no, please don't cry—what's wrong?" Merry looked up into his 
eyes and Pippin could see him begin to pull away; shaking his head he 
held him tighter, trying to muster the ability to speak.
 
"S-sorry, dear Merry—I'm so sorry I hurt you.  I love you.  I . . . " there 
was nothing else he could say, "I love you." Something seemed to release 
in his chest; he felt lighter now, and so much better.  Already the tears 
were fading away.  He smiled.
 
Merry's eyes were dark with concern, he took to brushing away the tears 
with his knuckles, gazing intently at him.  "I'm sorry too—I *never* 
should have pushed you away.  I never will again, my sweet Pippin.  Do 
you want us to stop?"
 
Pippin shook his head emphatically and to make *sure* Merry didn't get 
away again, grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and bent to kiss him 
once more, working loose buttons on his weskit in a frenzy of need to 
have skin touching skin.  Merry leaned back a little to let him work, his 
hands lightly resting on Pippin's hips, grasping the soft material of the 
robe to slowly, slowly draw it away . . . when Pippin's cock was exposed 
between them, Merry glanced down and made a strange noise, sort of 
between a moan and a squeak, his fingers clenching tight into Pippin's 
buttocks, making him hiss with pleasure.
 
"Oh I wish I could be inside you," Merry whispered so low Pippin wasn't 
quite sure what he heard.
 
"What was that?"
 
"Nothing," Merry hissed, kneading his fingers into the flesh of Pippin's 
buttocks and squirming.  Pippin had managed to remove most of the 
clothing from his top half; with a yank on his hands (though it felt nice 
what they were doing), he pulled jacket, weskit and shirt completely off.
 
"Did you say you wanted *inside* me?"  Pippin could tell by the look on 
Merry's face that he'd hit it.  He frowned, confused.  "But how would we . 
. . Oh!  I know!"  Grinning, he hopped off of Merry's lap, tore open his 
breeches, and took his engorged member in his mouth.
 
"PIP!" Merry's shout brought him up short; the older hobbit's body had 
gone as rigid as an arrow, his head thrown back and his hands holding the 
blankets in a death grip.
 
Pippin cringed and let him go.  "I did that wrong, huh?"
 
Merry laughed in a voice above his normal octave, and drew Pip up onto 
the bed, hugging him.  "No, not at all, Pip, but it was a little sudden—you 
caught me unaware.  Also, that wasn't quite what I—"  he seemed to 
reconsider his words, "—never mind."
 
"Never mind what?"  Now close to Merry's face, Pippin was reassured—
he hadn't hurt him.  Quite the opposite, it looked like—Sam had looked 
rather similar, right before he—
 
"We don't have to do everything at once.  I don't think you're ready yet.  I 
like your idea just fine," Merry said, and bent his head to take one of 
Pippin's little pink nipples in his mouth to suck gently, slowly taking his 
cock in his hand to pull and squeeze in slow tortuously sweet strokes.
 
Pippin lied back for a moment to enjoy the exquisite sensation, but he 
wouldn't be distracted from Merry's words.  Inside, inside, he thought to 
himself, moaning and practically purring as Merry moved his head lower 
to tongue his navel, his fingers rubbing an extremely sensitive area behind 
his balls, right near his . . . his eyes popped open.
 
"Inside *there*," he breathed, flushing, a nervous flash snaking through 
his stomach.  "Ohhh," he sighed as Merry ran a tongue up the length of 
him and cupped his soft sack, rubbing him with a skill that he could hardly 
believe—he took note of the technique for later use.  Then he forced 
himself to squirm away before he lost all train of thought.
 
"You want to me inside me; that's what you really want?  Would I like it?  
Why ever wouldn't I be ready?  I want to know *everything*.  You've 
obviously done all this, and I wish I knew who taught you, but please, 
Merry, don't hold back!  Teach me!"  He sat up and wriggled his way back 
into Merry's arms, being careful to take it easy this time, slowly running 
his hand down Merry's stomach to gently take him in his hand, slow, he 
had to remind himself, gentle and slow.
 
"Oh, Pippin," Merry groaned, moving against him and panting softly in 
growing ardor.  "Perhaps then we can . . . " he groaned again, but not 
pleasure--more like annoyance.  "Oh, but we have nothing to use!  I never 
expected to be needing . . . I wonder if Frodo has any . . . " Merry's eyes 
were changing color, which meant he was plotting something, and Pip 
loved it when he plotted things.
 
"Have any what?  What do we need?"
 
Merry looked at him, and Pip could feel him warring with his lust.  "Oil.  
To kind of slick up the passage.  Makes it much more comfortable, believe 
me."
 
That sounded very odd, but Merry knew best, generally.  "Why don't we 
raid Frodo's larder?  I bet we could at least find some butter or something."
 
Merry looked horrified.  "We are NOT using butter for your first time!"  
Frowning, he grabbed Pippin's robe from the floor and pulled it on.  "Just 
a moment--let me see if there's anything in the bathing chamber."
 
Pippin had thought he'd heard sounds--rather pleasurable sounds--through 
the wall while Merry had been down on him.  "I wonder if you asked 
Frodo--"
 
"We are *not* bothering Frodo, either!"  Merry growled, and went to the 
door to listen to the hallway.  Pippin listened as well; all was silent.  Merry 
opened the door.
 
Pippin pulled on his shirt though it did little to cover him and padded up 
behind Merry as Merry faltered.  It was difficult to walk; he positively 
ached with need, but his curiosity was stronger.  "Go on, now that you've 
mentioned it we have to try it.  I won't be satisfied until we do."
 
"You drive me crazy, Pippin," Merry said, and from his state Pip wasn't 
sure which way he meant, but he watched and waited while Merry started 
down the hallway, holding the robe closed with one hand.  When he 
passed Frodo's room, Pippin tried to warn him that the door was opening, 
but he was too late.  Frodo emerged wearing a dressing gown, grinned at 
Merry, and Pip ducked behind the door, only keeping his eyes peeping out 
to see what would happen next.
 
"Are things better?"  Frodo asked in a low voice with a mischievous 
glimmer in his eye that said he already knew the answer.
 
Merry was blushing, but not nearly as much as Pip would have expected 
him to.  "Er, yes.  I was just . . . "
 
Frodo almost playfully held up a small bottle which seemed to glow 
orange in the light from his candlestick.  "Need this?  I just thought of you 
two and thought perhaps--I was going to just leave it inside the door, but 
since you're here . . . " He smiled a soft secret smile, and suddenly Pip 
knew--they had been lovers, sometime.  He expected the realization to 
upset him, but somehow it didn't.  It made sense.  Just like him and Sam, it 
somehow fit--he could even be happy, knowing it was someone close who 
had taught Merry, someone who now he felt sure was very much taken 
with a new love.  Pip slipped back into his room to remove his shirt and 
wait for Merry on the bed.  Even so, he couldn't help but hear Frodo's last 
words in the utter stillness of the smial before Frodo closed his door, "I'm 
going to need a lot more of that soon, I think.  Good luck, dear Merry.  I 
hope all the very best for you two."  Merry giggled--there was no other 
word to describe it, then very shortly he returned to the room and Pippin 
saw his desire had not lessened one whit.
 
"Did you--" Merry asked, suddenly uncertain.
 
Pippin nodded.  "You and he--like me and Sam, huh?"
 
Merry rushed to the bed to take him into his arms.  "It was years ago, and 
it wasn't love--it wasn't like you and me, it was like--" he smiled.  "Yeah.  
Like you and Sam."
 
Pippin ran a finger along Merry's collarbone, pushing away the robe, and 
bent to kiss his neck, wriggling back into his lap, "Were there any other 
lads?"
 
Merry's head fell back as he massaged Pippin's back. "No, only Frodo.  I 
was no older than you, actually.  Are you upset?"
 
Well that seemed a silly question to ask while Pippin was practically on 
top of him and working his hands back down to bring him back to full 
hardness, but Merry was silly sometimes, and so terribly concerned for 
him.  "No.  I'm glad it was him, actually--I dunno; maybe because we're 
all such good friends.  Now show me what to do with that oil."
 
Merry groaned and tried to disentangle himself.  "Lie back for me.  Then 
just try to relax.  I'm going to try to take things slow for you."
 
"I don't want to go slow," Pip growled--if Merry didn't start doing 
something soon he was going to start taking care of matters himself, but he 
lied back and tried to relax, trying to satisfy himself with the wonderful 
expression on Merry's face--Merry was looking him up and down, and Pip 
could swear he could feel it as if it were his hands caressing his body 
instead of only his eyes; he felt flushed and excited, almost to the point of 
pain.   Merry poured some oil into his hand and then spread Pippin's legs 
and worked a finger down to that point and pushed in . . . . Pip made a 
face.  
 
"Am I hurting you?"  The finger stopped moving.
 
Pip made another face, squirming against him to get him to continue.  
"No.  It just feels odd.  Keep going."
 
"Tell me if it hurts."
 
Pip nodded, then tried to relax as Merry inserted another finger and began 
moving them around.  Well okay, it hurt a little bit, but not that bad, really, 
and there was almost something nice about it . . . Merry's fingers hit 
*something*, and suddenly a wave of pleasure rolled over him.  He 
gasped and arched.  
 
Merry's smile was positively evil now.  "Was that good?"
 
Pippin could only nod, for again Merry hit that, and oh yes, it was very 
good--he clutched at Merry's arm and whimpered for him to keep doing 
that, but it seemed his body wanted more--he pushed up against Merry's 
hand as Merry inserted a third finger.  Pain came, but it was so mixed with 
pleasure Pip could hardly tell the difference.  "Merry, please," he begged, 
but he wasn't entirely sure what he was begging for.
 
He whimpered as Merry withdrew his fingers and placed a pillow beneath 
his hips.  Merry loomed over him, his face tight with need but so filled 
with love Pip felt he must surely perish with it.  "I'm going to make love to 
you now, Pip, ok?"  Pippin felt something warm and slick being poured 
into his hand--oh yes, the oil--then Merry was guiding his hand down to 
his cock to rub the lubricant up and down him . . . Merry's eyelids fluttered 
and he moaned, low and deep.  Pip urged him to the entrance, and slowly, 
painfully, but yet so wonderfully, Merry entered him.
 
Merry's breath came in sharp gasps as he held himself still for a moment 
while the pain peaked and then began to fade, his eyes locked on Pippin, 
as dark a gray as Pip had ever seen them . . . then he began to move.  Very 
slowly, out, and then in, and then out and in again, building up a slow 
rhythm, rocking into him while taking Pippin's own member and with his 
oil slicked hands beginning to stroke him firmly.  Pippin started to make 
little noises--he couldn't seem to help it--urging Merry on, faster, deeper, 
harder--oh yes, there was that spot again--he gave a little cry and threw his 
head back, grabbing Merry's tight arse and squeezing hard.  That earned 
him a forceful thrust, and he grinned and squeezed again, driving Merry 
on--oh the look on Merry's face was just priceless--the exquisite pleasure, 
the wonder . . . but as Merry's hand continued its work on him and the 
waves from that spot started to come over him continually, he knew he 
was falling over the edge.  "Merry!  I love you--" he shouted, then he was 
coming; and by Merry's shout he knew Merry was coming too; it felt like 
the whole world was coming with them.  
 
He must have blacked out for a second; when he opened his eyes, Merry 
was giving him one of his concerned looks again, lying to the side of him, 
gently brushing back his curls.  "Are you all right?" Merry whispered, 
leaning in to kiss him very gently on this cheek.  There was moisture on 
Merry's face.
 
Pip stretched, grinning, and tilted his face to kiss Merry on the lips.  
"Mmmm, that was a very good idea.  I'm perfect.  You?"
 
Merry choked on a sob, drawing Pip into his arms and cradling him 
against his chest.  "I love you so much, Pippin.  Don't ever leave me, ok?"
 
Silly, silly Merry.  "Why ever would I do that, Merry?  We belong 
together."
 
Poor Merry looked like he still needed convincing, so Pippin nuzzled his 
chest, licking and kissing, flicking his flat nipples until they began to 
harden . . . 
 
"If you start that again, we'll never get any sleep tonight."
 
Pip snorted.  "What are we doing tomorrow?"
 
Merry shrugged.  "Nothing."
 
Pip giggled.  "So we'll sleep later.  Frodo and Sam won't mind, I think."
 
Merry sighed, but it wasn't one of his exasperated sighs--more like one of 
his heated lustful ones.  "You're terrible, Pip.  You know that."
 
For an answer, Pip bent his head and swirled his tongue around the head 
of Merry's member, causing him to groan and fall back into the bed.  
Merry whispered, "I do really love you, you know."
 
Pippin raised his head for a moment to look at Merry.  "I know you do.  I 
love you too, cousin.  Always and forever." 
 
Then he went back to pleasure Merry some more. 
*****
THE END   (well, of this series, anyway. -_^ )