West of the Moon
A Tolkien Fanfiction Archive
A Bed of Light
Merry and Pippin express their thanks.
Author: Ruby Nye
The evening cool and sparkling around him, Sam knelt in the lush grass, his hands full of light. Everywhere in the Golden Wood, little gold-glowing flowers called elanor, sun-stars, dotted the soft grass; as he plucked a bouquet and raised it to his face, Sam wished that he might take some seeds of the elanor home.
"Lovely, aren't they, Sam?" Frodo knelt down beside him, so close that the light of the flowers shone on his face, illuminating how fair he was always and how much good a little rest had done him, even troubled though it had been. Sam smiled at Frodo, his heart too full of his master's beauty and the light and peace of Lorien for words, and Frodo leaned over to kiss him, a soft caress of lips. Frodo drew back just a bit, his hand rising to Sam's cheek, his eyes to Sam's eyes; Sam returned his gaze, wondering what Frodo was looking for, wondering once more at the light in those dear eyes, but then Frodo kissed him again and there were better things to do than think, as this kiss wasn't soft at all. Sam tilted his head back as Frodo's mouth covered his own, as Frodo stroked a warm hand down across his cheek to his throat; his hands awkward with flowers, Sam brought his arms up around Frodo's back as Frodo wound his other hand into Sam's hair and kept kissing him.
"Mmm." Frodo wriggled forward, bringing their bodies flush; Sam leaned into his firm warmth even as he yielded to the depth of Frodo's kiss, before Frodo pulled back a little and began kissing his way across Sam's jaw. "Mmm, Sam," Frodo murmured against his throat. "Are you up for anything?"
"Ah, me dear, for you, always." Sam trembled in Frodo's arms, gasping and smiling when Frodo nipped him and licked the bite; he turned his head to capture Frodo's eartip with his lips and was about to nibble along it when cheerful hobbit laughter made him disentangle himself swiftly and sit back with a thump.
Frodo blinked, as if surprised that his arms were no longer full of Sam, and then laughed. "Oh, Sam," he said warmly, just as Merry and Pippin bounded into the clearing, laughing together, arms full.
"Frodo! Sam!" cried Merry, and they headed straight over; Sam was quite fond of the two young gentlehobbits, but at that moment he could cheerfully have kicked them both right to the other end of Lorien. Instead he sighed, and told his prick to go right back to sleep, and wrapped the flowers in his handkerchief before reaching up to take some of Merry's parcels.
Apparently they intended an evening picnic; when he was done taking and putting and setting, Sam found himself sitting beside a blanket on which rested two handkerchiefs full of berries and one full of honey biscuits, a loaf of sweet bread, a flagon of pale wine, and two of those crumbly rich mild little cheeses Frodo had taken a great liking to since they'd arrived. "Quite a spread, sirs," Sam said, looking it over and nodding his approval. "A nice little afters indeed."
"Oh, good! We'd hoped you'd approve, Sam." Something in Merry's tone made Sam look up, and when he did he found that Merry was wearing That Grin, as Sam had taken to calling it in the years since they'd met, although Sam had first named it on Frodo's face. Which also bore That Grin. So did Pippin's. Sam looked up at three mischievously grinning gentlehobbits, and felt himself quite overmatched.
"We definitely hoped you'd approve, Sam," said Pippin, kneeling beside Sam. Merry knelt on his other side. "We were thinking," Merry said, leaning closer. "About all you've done since we began this adventure."
"And all you've done before it, the good care you take of Frodo, of all of us." Pippin had his hands on Sam's arm. Merry laid his chin on Sam's other shoulder. Sam didn't know where to look, so he looked up at Frodo, who knelt before him, smiling warmly at the three of them.
"And about what a handsome hobbit you are." Merry's breath was warm on Sam's ear; then his mouth was hot on Sam's eartip, and Sam quivered, his face flushing.
"We'd like to please you, Sam," whispered Pippin, breath warm on Sam's cheek, fingers dancing down Sam's arm to twine with his. "Show you a little of how much we appreciate you. Give you all the pleasure your skin can hold."
Sam realized his eyes had fallen shut; his eartip in Merry's mouth seemed connected straight to his wide-awake prick. He pried his eyes open as Pippin busied his mouth at his neck, and gasped when Pippin began laying kisses and nips there, but he raised his eyes to Frodo, who smiled back at Sam with eyes full of love and leaned forward to cradle Sam's face in his hands and kiss him sweetly. "You deserve this, Sam," he whispered over Sam's lips. "I want you to have it. Do you want it?"
That was not a fair question, not when Merry had his tongue in Sam's ear and Pippin was pressing against Sam's side and Frodo knelt before him, running a thumb slowly over Sam's bottom lip. A hobbit would need to be dead to be between the three of them so and not want it, and Sam felt quite alive at the moment, a bit dizzy with wanting it. "Yes, oh, sir, yes," Sam managed to whisper; Frodo smiled and kissed him again, even sweeter and deeper than before, tongue stroking Sam's lip where his thumb had been. Then he sat back on his heels, and Merry kissed Sam with open-mouthed heat as he and Pippin pushed Sam onto his back.
Merry was a bossy kisser, and yet there was something in him that invited pushing back, that rewarded a bit of defiance. Sam pushed up into Merry's kiss, and Merry chuckled and nipped his lip and tangled their tongues as his hands worked at unclipping Sam's braces. Pippin unbuttoned Sam's shirt, sitting back to tug it off, and Merry nipped Sam's lip again and sat back as well; Sam got his elbows beneath him as he blinked dazedly up at Merry's wide smile, his grey eyes now gone dark. "Mr. Merry?" Sam gasped, and Merry grinned. "Mr. Pippin?" Pippin, licking along Sam's collarbone, grunted a little but didn't raise his head. "You sure you ain't got the wrong hobbit?"
They all laughed at that, Pippin's chuckles tickling along Sam's skin, Merry leaning forward to press against him, Frodo's smile shining in the dusk. "Sam," said Merry warmly, trailing fingers up his chest, "we want the hobbit who's come through peril with us, who helped us help Frodo, who cared so for poor old Bill, who's put up with all Pippin's whining." Pippin lifted his head at that to swipe at Merry, who laughed and dove across Sam to wrestle Pippin down and kiss him quiet.
Sam sat up, Merry lying across his lap, and watched them kiss, Merry pressing Pippin down by his wrists, Pippin pressing back with eyelashes trembling on his cheekbone, and wondered if that's how he'd looked when Merry was kissing him. Draped over Sam's lap as he was, Merry had to be feeling what the sight of them together was doing to him; at that thought Sam felt his face go red, and Frodo chuckled and leaned closer. "Oh, Sam, you should see yourself," he murmured as he laid a cool hand to Sam's burning cheek. Merry pulled back from Pippin with a smacking sound, and they both looked up at Sam, and grinned, and Sam's face burned hotter yet.
"I 'spect I look a sight," Sam muttered, feeling their eyes on him like hands, and all of it making him hotter yet despite his blushing.
"You are a sight," said Frodo softly. "A lovely sight." He kissed Sam again; Merry wriggled off him, and there were whispers and rustlings and chuckles somewhere beyond Frodo's hand on Sam's cheek and Frodo's mouth moving slowly over Sam's. Then Frodo pulled back, just as Pippin, bare as he'd been born, bounced into Sam's lap and wound his arms round his neck and legs round his hips. "Mis--!" was as far as Sam got before Pippin kissed him.
Pippin pulled Sam in so tightly he couldn't even move at first, and when he eased off it was only to suck in a breath before resuming that infectiously enthusiastic kissing. All the while Pippin wriggled in maddening circles in Sam's lap, till the layers of breeches and smallclothes seemed almost to melt away from between them, but for being far too tight. When Pippin pulled his head back Sam leaned forward before he caught himself, and he found his hands flat on Pippin's back, one dangerously low, and Pippin's sharp Took nose tip-to-tip with his. "Hullo, Sam," said Pippin, eyes sparkling green-gold.
Merry giggled; Sam got his eyes to focus and looked beyond Pippin's tousled curls to see Merry and Frodo watching as they languidly undressed each other. "Pip's been wanting to do that for awhile," Merry said, and Pippin chuckled and licked Sam's cheek.
"Mmm, you taste good when you blush," Pippin observed, with another roll of his slender hips, and Sam couldn't help but moan low in his throat as Pippin began nibbling down the side of his neck; his hand slid down that smooth-skinned tween back, telling over each bump of spine, feeling the firm muscles, to join his other in cupping that narrow round rump and stilling those blood-igniting squirms. Sam pulled Pippin tightly against him, skin on skin; Pippin moaned and giggled at once, hard against his stomach, and bit him, and Sam only realized his eyes had shut again when he felt his eyelids squeezing tightly as the sweet pain made him moan.
"Master Pippin," he breathed. "You wicked thing." Pippin chuckled against his throat as he licked the bite with a hot little tongue.
Frodo chuckled in Sam's ear. How had he gotten so close without Sam noticing? And his throat was bare, Sam saw when he pried open his eyes; he kissed that bare throat, delighted to not see the Ring there, and Frodo wound hands in Sam's and Pippin's hair and kissed them both, one after the other. "You should see yourselves," Frodo murmured; Pippin whispered huskily, "got a mirror?" and Sam couldn't help but laugh, squeezing Pippin's thin warm frame more tightly.
Pippin felt good to hold, and he purred and wriggled as if he wanted to climb right inside Sam's skin with him. Sam liked that, he admitted to himself; he liked this all very much; as he felt Frodo's familiar hand stroking through his hair he relaxed into the feel of Pippin wrapped around him.
Frodo laughed, too, and kissed Pippin again, and then kissed Sam again to even it out, and sat back. Sam noticed with a small pang that Frodo laid a hand on the pile of his clothes, where the Ring must be, but before he could reach to draw Frodo back in Merry was draped against his side. Merry was more sturdily built than Pippin or Frodo, and he wound strong arms around both Sam and Pippin's waists as he kissed Pippin; watching their mouths move together Sam could hardly think about anything as his mind hazed with want and fire tingled in his veins..
Then Frodo leaned close again, and flicked his tonguetip along Sam's ear. "You should see yourself," he whispered hotly in Sam's ear. "You're beautiful when you're roused, my Sam." Frodo's words coiled along Sam's spine, making him shudder; much more of this and he might go right off inside his clothes, he thought, and as if hearing that thought Merry left off kissing Pippin and slid his hand up Sam's back, tracing the muscles of his shoulders with skimming fingertips, to sink a hand into his hair. "Sam, you're still wearing too much," Merry breathed over Sam's mouth, and kissed him.
Pippin unwound himself from Sam, and Merry filled the space, pulling Sam's arm up around himself, pressing their chests together; Sam felt the muscles of Merry's back move beneath his hands, thicker than Pippin's, but not so thick as his own. Merry pushed, trying to get Sam down onto his back, and Sam pushed back, and suddenly they rolled over and Sam was on top.
"Oh!" Sam pulled his mouth from Merry's, pushing himself up on his arms. "Mr. Merry, I---" But Merry was grinning, and his hands slid up over Sam's back and down to his waist.
"Don't you dare beg my pardon, Sam," he murmured, tugging. "Come back here." Sam went.
Pippin giggled and worked his hands between them; then Sam felt another pair of hands, Frodo's. The four hands drew off his breeches, and one of them pushed gently on his rump to settle him as Merry wound a leg round his waist, pulling their bodies flush. Sam gasped, feeling Merry just as excited as he and now pressed up alongside him, sending a jolt through him with each movement, and Merry chuckled and rolled them over again so Sam lay on his back, the cool soft grass beneath him. It was winter, somewhere beyond Lorien, but here this felt like the first outdoor lovemaking of spring.
"He's a sweet kisser, isn't he, Merry?" Frodo commented, and Sam felt his face go hot once again. Merry replied, "mmph" and kept tangling his tongue with Sam's, pressing down against him.
Pippin said to Frodo, "Do you ever shut up?" and kissed him before he could reply, and shortly they rolled so Pippin was lying beside Sam, pressed to his side, tucked beneath Frodo.
Pippin wriggled beside Sam, warm-damp skin catching and sliding, and soft curls brushed his cheek and his thigh, and Merry bucked against him, fingers in his hair. Sam moaned, submerged in his fellow hobbits, awash in pleasure. "Mmm, Sam," Merry murmured against his cheek, one hand trailing fire down through the curls on his chest. "Frodo's right. You are a sweet kisser."
Sam felt his face might never stop being red, and yet he smiled. "You also, Mr. Merry," Sam murmured, tracing Merry's ear with his fingers; Merry's eyes had gone dark like the sky, flecked with golden sparks from the elanor flowers around them. Lips brushed the back of Sam's neck, and the heel of Merry's hand rolled in a tingling circle over one nipple; Merry grinned, and bent his head to Sam's shoulder, and Sam closed his eyes and sighed and rolled his face sideways to find those lips, Frodo's lips, as Merry kissed his way down to Sam's nipple and sucked it to aching hardness.
Pippin moaned, "does he always say 'Mister'?" and Frodo chuckled and released Sam's mouth.
"Always," he replied, kissing Sam's ear and trailing fingers along his cheek for a moment before leaning back over to kiss Pippin. Sam would have watched, but Merry reached over to his other nipple, and his eyes pressed shut as he gasped, arching. The wriggling against Sam's side resolved into a rhythm, patterned in Pippin's moans and Frodo's gasps, and both of Merry's hands slid warmly down Sam's body as he raised his head to kiss Sam again.
"I bet you've done this in the grass before, Sam," Merry whispered hotly into his ear as his hand wrapped hotly round Sam's prick, which gave a little happy jump. "Tumbled in that lovely garden you tended at Bag End, with a kissing-friend or two, perhaps even with our Frodo." Sam tried to protest, he really did, but all that emerged was a gasp, and Merry grinned and kissed him again, tongue dancing the same rhythm as his twisting hand, the other one holding Sam close with a handful of rump. Pippin wailed out his peak, and Frodo was moaning, that note of closeness in his voice, and Merry let Sam's mouth go to whisper in his ear, "Frodo's nearly there, Sam, you can hear it, can't you? He's watching you in my arms, looking at how handsome you are like this." Roused past speech, Sam snorted and laughed and moaned, and Merry laughed in his ear, and Frodo pressed his cheek to Sam's as he cried out, and Sam was overwhelmed.
"Oh!" he heard himself crying out, and Frodo's name or Merry's, as the light burst gold and silver and white behind his eyelids and he peaked.
Four pounding hearts, four sets of heaving breaths. Sam pried his eyes open; Frodo's dark curls lay against his cheek on the edge of his vision, and Merry was leaning over him and smiling, having slid his hand up to rest his head on it as the other one held on loosely and warmly. Sam got his eyes fully open and smiled back. "Ah, Mr. Merry," he said, and Merry's smile widened as he trailed two fingers across Sam's sticky belly and brought them to his mouth.
"Mmm, you taste good," Merry murmured, and though he lay in the embers of pleasure Sam felt fire already rousing again within him.
"Oh, Mr. Merry, you, you---" Sam gave up on trying to speak, and pushed himself up to kiss Merry; he heard Frodo and Pippin laugh as he rolled them over again and Merry gasped with surprise.
Then Merry moaned, as Sam felt arms and legs twine round them both; he lifted his head to find Frodo tucking himself against Merry's back, hands already busy, while, not to be outdone, Pippin wriggled over them all to press himself to Sam's back. "Well now, Mr. Merry," Sam whispered into Merry's ear, holding his arms to his sides in a hug, and felt an unusual thrill as Merry quivered in his grasp, as Frodo tucked his hands between their bodies to take Merry in hand. Pippin set his chin on Sam's shoulder and watched. "Looks like you two've learned something of teamwork from us," Pippin observed as Sam sucked on Merry's eartip just as Merry had done to him, and was rewarded with a moan.
"I knew of teamwork when you were in your cradle," Frodo retorted, and Pippin grinned unapologetically and leaned over Sam to kiss Frodo; then he kissed Merry, while Sam felt Frodo change what he was doing with his hand. Frodo looked over Merry's shoulder to catch Sam's eye, and winked just as Merry groaned into Pippin's kiss and trembled through his peak.
Sam smiled back, and then grinned, and then laughed for the sheer joy of it, the four of them alive and entangled and in Lorien, lying amidst little golden stars and beneath a high golden-leaved canopy with far silver stars shining through. Frodo's eyes shone, but it was Pippin who kissed Sam and asked, "how do you, Master Samwise?"
Sam grinned up at Pippin. "Very well, Mr. Pippin, but I think we might do with a bit of straightening-up and a bite or three."
"Good point." Pippin unpeeled himself from Sam's back and went to forage for handkerchiefs while Frodo and Sam eased back to let Merry have a little air. Merry lay back, took a couple of deep breaths, and then grinned before he'd even opened his eyes. "That," he said, "was fun."
Sam shook his head, unable to resist grinning back. "The three of you gentlehobbits, and just one poor Sam. I hadn't a chance, had I?"
"None at all," said Frodo, and he leaned across Merry's prone form to draw Sam into a warm kiss. Sam smiled at him, and at Merry, feeling warm inside and out; he turned to rise and fetch the food, only to find himself pulled back down by Merry's hands round his wrist and pushed back down by Pippin's hands on his shoulders.
"Why, Sam, where are you going?" asked Pippin, sitting astride him.
"Well, to fetch a bit of bread and cheese for Mr. Frodo, and a berry for meself." Pippin grinned in reply, and shook his head as he made a long arm over to the blanket, snagging one of the bundles of berries. Merry sat up, wrapping his hands round Sam's wrists and holding them to his sides, as Pippin put a berry between his lips, leaned forward, and fed it to Sam without using his hands and with a fair bit of delightful, unnecessary wriggling.
Pippin's mouth tasted better than the berry, and that was saying a fair bit, because the berry was delicious, sweet and tart and juicy. Sam closed his eyes and leaned back against Merry as he swallowed it, and opened his eyes again to Pippin's delighted grin. "Thank you kindly, Mr. Pippin, but you'd best not spoil me, when tomorrow morning it'll be 'oi, Sam, where's my breakfast?' and 'ah, Sam, mend this for me?'"
Laughter surrounded Sam like light; Pippin leaned forward for another kiss. "We'd best spoil you now, then," he said as Merry kissed Sam's jaw and let go, moving over to sit by the food, but not before collecting a berry-kiss from Pippin. "Here," Merry said, passing the wine over; Sam snagged it before Pippin could attempt the same trick with it as with the berries, took a swig---very good, sweet and light and cool--- and turned a bit to pass it to Frodo. "Mr. Frodo?"
Frodo was looking at an elanor blossom, glowing in his hand; he looked up at Sam, for a moment so far away, before he smiled and reached out, his fingers brushing Sam's around the neck of the carafe. Pippin, still sitting on Sam's lap, reached out to pass Frodo a chunk of bread smeared with cheese; Frodo smiled and turned so he could lean his back against Sam's, and the hobbits settled down to their afters.
Sam ate with one hand, steadying Pippin with the other, looking at the golden light on Merry's fair hair and Pippin's freckled limbs, the silver-trunked trees, the stars peeping through the leaves high above. A sweet soft breeze curled round them; it should have chilled them, but instead it was almost warm. At his back Sam could feel Frodo, leaning against him, and in his mind's eye he could see the golden stars reflected in those blue eyes.
"What are you thinking on, Sam?" Frodo asked softly, fingertips soft on Sam's shoulder.
Sam shook his head. "I don't rightly know how to say it, Mr. Frodo. Just, well, how golden and fair it is here, and how much that fits you three sirs."
"It fits you too, Sam," said Frodo, and then he laughed. "I'm just glad you're not as awed as you were at Rivendell."
Once again, Sam felt himself blushing. "Oh, is that what it was?" asked Merry, lounging on one elbow as he tucked berries into his mouth. "I thought you thought Frodo still too injured for rough handling, Sam."
"Well, that, too, Mr. Merry," said Sam as stoutly as he could, as Frodo and Pippin laughed. "But, well, Rivendell seemed too high and grand to be tumbling there, and, well, those great white beds..."
"Yes, I thought my bed might eat me," said Pippin drolly, and Merry laughed till it rang off the trees.
"Is that why you came to my bed, Pip?"
"Well, that and you were in it," Pippin replied. "Speaking of beds, won't we be missed if we're not in ours?"
"Oh, no, I let Aragorn and Legolas know where we were," said Merry; when Sam gasped he looked very surprised.
"You'd---you didn't tell what you were about, did you?" Sam asked, and scowled when the gentlehobbits proceeded to laugh, Pippin so vigorously that he nearly fell off Sam's lap.
"Oh, Sam," said Frodo fondly as he turned round, "do you think Elves don't do this? Ask Legolas, he hasn't spent a night with the Company since we got here."
"I hadn't expected that," said Merry thoughtfully, and Pippin wriggled down off Sam's lap, kissed his cheek, and went over to drape himself over Merry. "I hadn't thought an Elf would respond to death as we mortals do."
"What do you mean?" asked Pippin, rolling over and tucking one hand beneath Sam's knee; Frodo twined his fingers with Sam's and explained, "Being mortal, it makes sense for our blood to run hotter at the reminder of its eventual chilling."
"Oh! Is that why I'm so proddy?" Pippin asked, and Merry snickered.
"Pip, you're always proddy, unless you're hungry."
"You're a one to talk, Merry Randybuck." Pippin lunged as he spoke, rolling Merry over, and they were wrestling and kissing and laughing.
Frodo laughed to watch them, and kissed Sam's cheek. "And what of you, Sam? How do you feel?"
Sam leaned back, careful not to put too much of his weight on Frodo, who wrapped an arm round his belly. "I feel...when my Mam died, Mr. Frodo, you kissed me, do you recall?" Frodo nodded against Sam's cheek. "I was just at that age, I dreamt of it for weeks, your lips on my cheek, like rose-petals. Woke up sticky, even." Frodo chuckled. Merry did something that made Pippin squeal. "Well, sir, I was right cross with myself; how could I have such dreams at night, and be weeping for my Mam in the day? Now, I think I see." Frodo's arm drew reassuringly tight. "Still...I miss him, Mr. Frodo."
"So do I, Sam." Frodo kissed Sam's cheek; Sam turned his head to catch Frodo's mouth in a kiss that tasted of sweetness and life, and berries and biscuits. Then Pippin landed in Sam's lap again, and Merry draped himself across Frodo, and they found themselves pushed to the grass again, side by side.
"Looks like round two," observed Pippin, planting his hands either side of Sam's chest. Merry muttered agreement, his face already hidden against Frodo's neck.
Frodo gasped and giggled, squeezing Sam's hand. "Well, Sam, who are we to say no?"
Sam squeezed Frodo's hand for reply, his mouth already full of Pippin's kiss, his free hand sunk in Pippin's hair. Pippin kissed him firmly, then began kissing his way down Sam's jaw and throat. "Mmm, Sam," Pippin murmured against his collarbone, one hand coming up to brush across a nipple, "you taste good, Sam. May I suck you?"
Sam went hard so fast he could almost hear it. "Mr. Pippin?" Sam raised his head his head, glanced at Merry kissing Frodo, looked into sparkling green-gold eyes. "Mr. Pippin, you want to---?"
"I want to hear you moan, Sam. I want you to peak in my mouth." Pippin was kissing down Sam's belly, now, making smacking sounds.
Sam got his elbows beneath him. "But, Mr. Pippin, I'm not---"
Not ready? His body had quite given the lie to that. Not sure the Thain's heir should be on his knees before him? Well, they were all hobbits together, all three of them had said so and their journey had proven it "Yes, you are," said Pippin, eyes twinkling before they vanished as he lowered his head and Sam gasped and fell back into the soft star-sprinkled grass.
Pippin was good at this, Sam found himself thinking, as he laid one hand to the grass and the other to Pippin's hair and struggled against the tide of his blood not to clutch either. He looked up at the stars through the leaves as a different sort of light tingled through his body, radiating from Pippin's eager soft lips and clever twining tongue. Pippin slid one of his hands between and beneath, stroking Sam's eggs, and his eyes squeezed shut again as he trembled and moaned and struggled to not rip up the grass.
A strong hand wrapped around Sam's; he turned his head and found Merry watching him, Frodo tucked against his back. "Pip's good at that, isn't he?" Merry murmured with a grin, and Pippin made a very muffled sound for reply, which vibrated through Sam and set him quivering all the more. "Here, hold on tight as you like."
Envious of Sam's attention, Pippin sucked harder as he brought his other hand down, fingers dancing and teasing; Sam nodded, and Merry smiled and leaned forward to kiss him, slowly and deeply, as Pippin pressed just so, not to enter but just to be felt, and cupped and stroked with the other hand, and did things with that thrashing-velvet tongue that Sam could tell he'd learned from Frodo and others Sam hadn't known were possible. Sam shook under Pippin's mouth and moaned into Merry's and clutched Merry's hand as Pippin wrung another, wrenching, almost painful peak out of him.
Sam fell back out of the sky into his body to find Merry still holding his hand and Pippin stroking his thighs soothingly, and Frodo, with his chin on Merry's shoulder, merely watching, if a look so warm could be called 'mere'. Pippin wriggled up over Sam's chest to tuck himself into the crook of Sam's arm, and Sam felt himself being poked in the hip. "My stars, Master Pippin," said Sam breathlessly, "you can do aught else with that mouth than talk, can't you?" and Pippin actually blushed as he grinned; then he gasped as Sam wrapped a hand round the cock prodding him, and it was Sam's turn to grin, and to kiss him.
Merry chuckled somewhere over Sam's head, and then Sam felt kisses on his ear, four in irregular succession, as Merry and Frodo shifted to tuck themselves round Pippin, and wrap limbs warmly round Sam. Pippin felt himself enveloped, and moaned in delight and squirmed; Sam opened an eye to find Frodo nearer, hands busy on Pippin's chest. Frodo caught Sam looking, and winked, and leaned forward to kiss his eye closed and kiss his cheek in several places as between them they worked Pippin up till he fairly writhed and bit Sam's lip, till he threw his head back and wailed as he spilled into Sam's hands.
Then he slumped bonelessly against Sam's chest, and very shortly began to emit gentle snores. Sam chuckled quietly as he pulled a hand free; Merry laughed outright, and so did Frodo, as Merry tossed Sam one of the berry-handkerchiefs. "I think Pip has the right idea," Frodo murmured, leaning forward over Pippin's head to kiss Sam. "Merry, pass me my shirt?"
When Merry complied, Sam caught the sag in one of the pockets, and hid his sigh in Pippin's curls. It couldn't be helped, at least not yet, and he wasn't going to let It disturb the warm glowing peace this evening with the other lads had brought him. So, he reached up to help Frodo pull on the shirt, and to help Merry drag the blanket up over them, and he stroked Frodo's hair as Frodo kissed the heel of his hand before curling up against Merry's chest.
Sam took a breath, feeling himself snug with Pippin in his arms and Frodo and Merry curled up just beyond. He had no idea why he wasn't asleep, when happy exhaustion weighed down all his limbs; yet the song in his blood was not yet a lullaby.
Merry opened his eyes. "Hullo, Sam," he whispered, and Sam smiled and slid one hand up Frodo's arm to find Merry's hand and thread their fingers.
"Hullo, Mr. Merry," Sam whispered back.
Merry rolled his eyes. "Sam, are you always going to call me 'Mister'?"
"Always, Mr. Merry." Merry rolled his eyes again, grinned anyway, squeezed Sam's hand.
"I'd say you and Mr. Pippin enjoyed me," said Sam slyly, and Merry laughed as quietly as he could, shaking his head. Then he sobered a bit, eyes shining in the light of stars above and below.
"Sam. I owe you my thanks, you know."
"Your thanks, Mr. Merry?"
"Yes, Sam. We came with Frodo to help him, Pippin and I, but you're the one who cares for him and holds him up. Frodo is...." Merry looked down at Frodo, sleeping in his arms, with as much tenderness as even Sam could wish turned upon his beloved master. "...Frodo is to me as I am to Pippin, but you're the one who takes care of him for us."
Sam felt his face turn red. "Oh, Mr. Merry, it's, it's my fortune and my delight to be at his side. I, well, I..." Sam trailed off, blushing fiercely, and Merry disengaged their fingers to raise his hand to Sam's burning cheek. "We love him too, Sam. Thank you for helping us help him."
Sam smiled, and Merry brushed his fingers over Sam's lips before laying them on his shoulder. "You're welcome," Sam murmured, and Merry smiled and closed his eyes. Merry's hand warm on his shoulder and Pippin in his arms, Frodo sleeping peacefully and Lorien glowing all around them, Sam sighed and closed his eyes and slept.
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