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Merry strolled across the front lawn at Bag-End, wondering to himself where Pippin had gotten off to. It was too quiet; that could only mean Pippin was up to no good. As he walked, Merry’s nose was suddenly filled with the warm scent of cinnamon and sugar in the air, wafting across the open yard from the kitchen. Merry followed the delicious scent; positive he would find Pippin at the end of the aromatic trail.
Snickering faintly behind his sticky fingers, a pair of bright green eyes peered over the kitchen windowsill, expertly searching out his next target. Another bun disappeared from the baking tray and was quickly popped into a rosy-lipped mouth. Smiling in satisfaction as he chewed, Pippin let himself slip back down into the thick bushes, his back pressed against the damp warm wall of the Smial. Pippin could smell the earth under him and the sugar on his fingers as he sucked the icing from them triumphantly. Thoughtfully patting at his belly, Pippin considered whether or not he might have enough room for just one more bun.
A rustle of leaves stopped his reaching hand however, and Merry’s face suddenly popped through the foliage, an impish grin splitting his mouth teasingly.
"Aha! Been at the desserts, haven’t you Pip?" Wide-eyed and blushing at being caught, Pippin shushed Merry and pulled him close, quieting him with a sticky kiss.
"Don’t tell Sam," Merry whispered, kneeling over Pippin and reaching up to take a bun from the windowsill himself. His gray eyes twinkled with mischief as he sat on Pippin’s lap, chewing vigorously.
When Merry swallowed, Pippin kissed him again, his lithe arms slipping around Merry’s neck to hold him quick. Tumbling back together in the grass, Merry could taste the sugary icing lingering on Pippin’s tongue, and he hummed in pleasure, kissing his little troublemaker deeper. The two of them laughed softly into one another’s mouths, kisses and breath mingling humid and sweet. Pippin’s tacky fingers tangled into Merry’s hair, Merry’s hands slipped under Pippin’s waistcoat, and Pippin realized this was much better than another bun.
*~*~*~*
Sam carried the laundry basket down the hallway, the edge propped on his hip and the thick woven handle held firmly in his hand. He entered Frodo’s bedroom without knocking; he had just left Frodo in the kitchen; and set the basket on a nearby trunk, moving to the bed to strip off the sheets. Halfway through his task, a movement in the edge of his vision made him pause, and he turned to see what it was.
"Why Mister Pippin, you gave me half a fright." Furrowing his brow suspiciously, Sam asked, "Does Mister Frodo know you’re in here?"
Pippin was curled up in the big chair by the window, a book opened on his lap. He chewed his lower lip as Sam looked to him, suddenly shy. He met Sam’s gaze after a long moment, blushing slightly as he answered.
"I was just reading. Frodo thinks I can’t read his books, but I can. Well," and Pippin paused, his cheeks darkening more. "I can read most of the words, but I don’t know this one."
Sitting himself in the chair next to Pippin, Sam looked to where Pippin was pointing on the page. He took a moment to sound the word out, just like Bilbo had taught him, and then chuckled. Pippin looked to him expectantly.
"That word there’s 'precocious', Mister Pippin. I can’t rightly say I know exactly what it means, but I’ve heard Mister Frodo and Mister Merry call you that a time or two."
Pippin hmphed grumpily, but then blinked in surprise when Sam leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his mouth.
Sam was surprised as well by his own actions, and his face reddened considerably as he pulled back. "I don’t like seeing you upset is all, Mister Pippin..." Sam offered as way of explaining, but he trailed off, unsure of what else to say. Pippin smiled and scooted closer to Sam, closing the distance between them, giving Sam a kiss in return. The book slid to the floor with a soft thump, but neither hobbit noticed.
"Don’t tell Mister Frodo," Sam murmured wetly against Pippin’s mouth, and Pippin nodded, parting his lips under Sam's gentle insistence.
*~*~*~*
Frodo leaned his head back as he slid into the bath. Sighing in contentment at the feel of the hot water up to his chin, he lazily reached for the soap, rubbing it between his ink-stained fingers and leaving gray trails across the white cake. Rinsing his hands with a small smile, Frodo worked the soap over his shoulders and down his chest, shifting slightly when his thumb came into contact with a hardened nipple. He let the soap drop into the water and caressed his hands over the soft curve of his belly, then lower, fingertips tracing the crease where hip meets thigh. Frodo’s eyes fluttered closed.
"Oh, water hot is a noble- oops!" Pippin swung the bathing room door open wide, singing at the top of his lungs and dressed in only a bathrobe, stopping mid-song when he saw that the tub was currently occupied. Frodo’s hands flew out of the water, scrabbling for a cloth to cover himself, and he sat up quickly as he pressed a small towel to his lap. His erection complained at the sudden confinement and Frodo shifted uncomfortably.
Both hobbits began to talk at once, but Frodo conceded in his acute embarrassment, letting Pippin have his say. "Oh mercy, Frodo, I didn’t know you were in here. I thought you had gone with Merry and Sam to market."
Frodo could only shake his head, his eyes lingering on the exposed skin of Pippin’s chest where his robe gaped before angling them away. But Pippin noticed and closed the bathing room door behind him with a secretive smile.
"There seems to be room enough in that bath for two." Frodo’s mouth curled into a slow smile and he nodded, his smile widening when Pippin let his robe fall to the floor.
Slipping down into the water, Pippin sat on his knees, scooting over until he was snugged between Frodo’s thighs. Frodo took the cloth from where it still lay across his lap and dropped it over the edge of the tub, not minding where it fell and smiling up at Pippin invitingly.
Leaning closer, Pippin smoothed his hands over Frodo’s pale wet chest, and he paused just inches from Frodo’s lips, whispering softly. "Don’t tell Merry." His eyes were wide and open as he bit absently at his own lower lip.
Frodo’s mouth twitched only a fraction before he eased Pippin’s lower lip from its confines with a gentle tongue.
"I never do, Pippin."
~fin~