By: Dana
Summary: Pippin had made it a dare.
Characters: Merry, Pippin, Frodo
Pairings: Merry/Pippin
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Slash, sexual content
Author's Notes: Written for the hobbit_smut "Double Dare!" challenge.
I. Wow. I don't know what to say.
Other than wow, this is certainly a story-bit that I really don't want to post.
This is less an actual dare and more the outcome of it.
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

Pippin let him free with a wet, audible pop, Merry's cock spent and twitching, Pippin having sucked him full dry. Then Pippin could shift himself, moving upwards in close, confined space, pressing his mouth to Merry's cheek, and then the corner of his mouth. Merry's reaction was, of course, quite reflexive, and he wrapped one arm about Pippin's waist, while Pippin licked, soft and slow, at Merry's lips, where Merry could taste himself on Pippin's tongue when he reached out and licked back with his own.

Merry grumbled, then, though it felt a pleasant rumble, and opened his mouth to Pippin's, fingers still curled loosely, holding themselves secure in Pippin's hair. Pippin did feel good against him, as though he was fit for that space, though the current space was dark, small and cramped, with far too much dust floating in the air. Well, one could hardly think better of bachelors, and this was a bachelor's linen cupboard, after all.

Voices could be heard, from the parlor, then beyond - Frodo's mellow voice (ever a gentlehobbit, their cousin), and Lobelia's tones (harsh, and rash, no wonder Frodo never went and invited her to tea, and she was often forced into forcing herself upon his manners as a gracious host, instead) peaked sharp and hard and positively infuriated, and then the front door had slammed shut, hard as well, and Pippin laughed warm and sweet against Merry's mouth.

"Merry," he then said, with another slow lick, "it seems that I've won."

"Mmm," Merry said, voice lazy and content. "I daresay you're correct."

"I often am. Though, Merry, we never did state the full clause of our wager - I have won, but what is my prize?"

Merry was quiet, a long moment, thinking over these words that Pippin had said. It seemed a vague thing to remember, when it had been so pressing before - "I imagine I can get you off quicker than it'll take Frodo to put Lobelia on her way - " oh, and Merry had grinned, sitting in the dim linen cupboard with Pippin pressed so close: "Let's make it a dare."

Why, they'd hardly had room, but Pippin had managed what he had.

"Well," Merry said at length, as his thoughts began to settle, "the rest of me, if you'd like."

Pippin seemed thoughtful. "Not here, though. We haven't the room."

"That didn't stop you - oh - before."

"Mmm. I daresay you're correct."

Then they could kiss again, and Pippin could press himself close - no, closer - his want pressed low against Merry's stomach, hard pressed so good against giving soft. Merry dropped his hand down lower, giving Pippin's bottom a firm squeeze, and slid his legs as wide as he could, given the tight space, accommodating his cousin as best he could.

"Pippin," he said, "I - "

"You two can come from the cupboard, now," Frodo's voice rang in through the wooden panels, as mild as ever, as though offering nothing more pressing than, "would you now like your tea?"