By: Dana
Summary: Never too old to do foolish things.
Characters: Frodo, Merry, mention of Pippin and Sam
Pairings: Frodo/Merry, Frodo/Sam/Merry/Pippin implied, definitely something Frodo/Sam underneath it all, Merry/Pippin, Sam/Pippin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, sexual content
Author's Notes: It's rather hard to say no to Merry, too, especially when he only means well. Beta thanks to Hyel, who egged me on to get this written, and Aratlithiel, who came in and did an amazing job evening out all the rough edges that were left; thank you, you two! This story, I might add, is written in the same continuity as An Unexpected Turn and Welcoming (which both come a season before); and Stealing Gardeners (which is, in fact, a companion story to Sorting Notes, occuring in much the same time).
The time is autumn SR 1416 - Merry is 34 and Frodo is 48.
Most recent revision: November 10, 2004.
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.

"Didn't we just clean this place?"

Frodo laughed and shook his head. When Merry looked his way, Frodo was wiping laughing tears from his eyes and Merry looked back at him, wondering if the dust in the air had finally driven his poor cousin over the edge. That, or he was spending too much time in his study, and Merry softly coughed. Maybe it was a little of both that had done it. Merry was sure he was right.

"I find myself asking that rather often, you know," Frodo said, grinning.

"So I see," Merry replied, slowly shaking his head. He held a dusty book in his hand, and he gently brushed off the cover. There was sunlight spilling in the windows, and the air was still and warm, and there were motes drifting lazily down through one beam. "Seems that you need to clean it again," Merry said, brushing again, scowling at the dirty smudge that was left on his hand, "or clean it more thoroughly. Whichever, I don't think I've ever seen this much dust concentrated in one place, and we've a rather sizeable library back at Brandy Hall, you know."

"I know," Frodo said, thwapping Merry lightly on the back of the head. Merry yelped softly, and Frodo grinned, taking the book from Merry's hands. He dodged from Merry's blow and pushed the book back onto its place on the shelf.

"That isn't why I invited you here, you know."

"Oh," and Frodo looked back over his shoulder. Merry was leaning against the desk, one hand resting on the edge, a sly look on his face. "I know."

Frodo snorted and clamped a hand over his mouth. "That isn't why I invited you, either," he said, when his mirth had cleared. Merry sulked, standing up straight.

"You aren't any fun."

"Oh, Merry, I'm lots of fun."

Merry pushed off from the desk and walked closer to Frodo. "I suppose," he said, sniffing suspiciously. "But not enough fun for the likes of me."

Frodo laughed and wiped his eyes. "Come on, you, it's time to put you to work."

"Now Frodo "

"Pippin wouldn't sit still long enough, and anyway, I'm sure he's off bothering Sam so he'll keep himself entertained." Frodo had grabbed hold of Merry's arm and directed him back to the desk. Merry snickered and Frodo pinched his shoulder.

"I'll have none of that."

"But you're trusting Pippin - Pippin," Merry said again, as if for further emphasis, and Frodo rolled his eyes as he pushed Merry down into the chair that was pulled close to the desk. "With Sam, Samwise Gamgee, that poor old fool. Why, you don't know what Pippin is capable of, Frodo, when "

Frodo rolled his eyes again, laughing. "I more than well know what Pippin is capable of, Merry. Are we forgetting so soon?"

Merry grinned rather cheekily. "Whatever, Frodo, you know I couldn't forget. Still, I think it's rather trusting of you to let Pippin go off with Sam, let him do as he pleases. I mean, what if you went and underestimated Pippin? Again, I might add, because we've both done it before. Who knows what might come of it."

"Nothing, Merry, that is what will come of it," Frodo said, and his voice was more stern than Merry would have thought. Merry sighed, then, reached up and took Frodo's hands.

"What is it that you're wanting my help with, Frodo?"

Frodo drew one hand back, and rubbed at his brow with it, rubbed his brow with one hand, and then tapped Merry's cheek. "I've notes that need sorting, left over from Bilbo, and" Frodo was quiet for a moment, but Merry had heard enough.

He nodded. "So I see."

Frodo laughed, half-grinning, and shook his head. "And you'd be doing me a favour if you could help me get all these papers put up where they're needed. He's still everywhere they're everywhere, Merry, no matter how hard I try."

Merry nodded, lowering his gaze for a long moment before looking back up at Frodo, as if he could somehow conquer this mood. "You can count on my help, Frodo. We Brandybucks have to stick together."

There were things that Frodo could say to that, but he shook his head slightly, instead, and his smile seemed sad. "Good," he said, sighing, and he leaned closer, curls tumbling forward until they had fully obscured his eyes. Merry tilted his head, put his hand on Frodo's cheek, and tilted further until he could see Frodo's eyes.

"I haven't gone and got you down, have I?"

"It isn't you, Merry, but thank you for your concern."

Merry sighed, and he leaned in, kissing Frodo very softly on the cheek. "That might be what you're saying, but that doesn't mean that it's what you mean. Whatever it is, Frodo, trust that I'll work something out to make it all better."

"I'm sure you will," and Frodo's lips twitched in slight amusement, but then he frowned, and shook his head. "There's too much work to be done, Merry, to let ourselves "

"Shh," Merry whispered. "There seems to be a frown stuck on your lips, Frodo, and I need to kiss it off."

"Always thinking, my Merry," Frodo said, and he chuckled. He turned his mouth to Merry's, lips parted, waiting, and they breathed in closer, even closer, still, until expectant lips had come together, and they could softly kiss. It was just that at first, almost chaste, and Frodo tangled one hand in Merry's hair. When he drew back, his eyes glittered, and Merry let himself grin.

"It can only get better," Merry said, and Frodo nodded, "Always thinking," falling from his lips. They kissed once more, and Merry drew Frodo onto his lap. Frodo grunted, and Merry manoeuvered him (the both of them, really), well, so he didn't end up with a knee in his side, and Frodo didn't end up flat on the floor.

"See," and Merry's cheeks were flushed. "I told you so."

Frodo was silent, though, tilting his head one way and then the other. Merry felt his lips tingle, and it felt odd that Frodo was watching him so, and it almost felt as if there was nothing else in the world but Frodo and his eyes.

"We'll never get that work done," rodo said.

Merry chuckled, and it was more important to see that Frodo was taken care of, than to sort papers and notes, whatever memories were sticking to them. "We'll do it later, Frodo, I promise."

"Later," Frodo said, and he curled fingers over Merry's ear, rubbing softly. "But there is a lot of work that we need to get done, and the longer the wait, the more we'll end up doing."

"Yes, and we should save our energy for that."

"Save our energy?" Frodo looked mildly amused.

"Aye," Merry breathed. He wasn't sure what it was, and he wondered if it was his teasing in part, and he slid his hands up and pushed his hands back through Frodo's hair, guiding their mouths back together. They kissed, and Frodo gently rocked, and Merry groaned into Frodo's mouth. "Since we'll be" he gasped. "Be using so much of it now."

"You've a point there," Frodo said, and Merry kissed him again. He wasn't sure what it was, but whatever it was, then he would do his best to give Frodo something better to think of. Was it Sam? Yes, well, maybe, there would always be Sam, but Merry had Pippin, too, really had him, and there would never ever be someone who was quite like Pippin. But this was more, and they were kissing so deeply that Merry thought that he might lose himself in mouth and tongue, and Frodo groaned softly as he drew back, hands grasping for purchase at Merry's shoulders.

Frodo sighed, and he seemed to relent, and Merry felt a hot rush of exhilaration as Frodo touched his cheek.

"Too hot for these clothes," Frodo said, and he was right, though Merry hadn't noticed the deep heat before Frodo had chosen to speak. Merry grunted, pushed the chair out with his feet, further from the desk, and Frodo, still gripping Merry's shoulders, slid back with a soft thump. He stood tall, then, well, as tall as he was, and Frodo wasn't the tallest hobbit that Merry knew, though he was taller than some. And there he was, standing there, undoing the buttons of his weskit, with his eyes on Merry, softly breathing.

And he was taking his time.

Merry groaned. He wanted to reach out, wanted to help, but Frodo grinned at this surge of frustration. He rolled his shoulders and pushed the weskit off, dropping it in an untidy pile on the floor. There he was in his dress shirt, and Merry had all that he could take.

He stood, and Frodo was pushed back against the deck, and Merry wondered if his eyes were as dark and as wanting as Frodo's, right then, as he slipped free the buttons of Frodo's shirt. "I can help," he said, and Frodo nodded. Then Frodo tilted his head, and Merry mirrored that motion in his own way, and they kissed, swiftly, hard and deep, and Merry pushed Frodo back against the desk until Frodo's back was bending.

Thump, and Frodo slipped, hit the desk, which rocked backwards and Merry wondered if it would be knocked off his feet, and Merry almost stumbled over his own feet, at the same time, and almost fell against Frodo. That must have hurt. But Frodo laughed, and Merry did, too, and they regained their footing, shifting, and then they kissed again, haphazard, corners and crevices in between. Merry slid his hands over bare skin, delighting in it, and pushed Frodo's shirt open wide, feasting on what showed beneath. It fell as well, that shirt, fluttering softly. Frodo's skin was soft, too, and Merry kissed his way from Frodo's mouth down to his neck.

Frodo groaned softly and Merry felt hands working against his shoulders, clutching for purchase. He opened his mouth wide, sucking upon soft flesh, and Frodo whimpered, almost too low for Merry to hear, and the desk rocked back and fell, heavy, back to the floor.

Feeling too much, but he could deal with that, and Merry let his mouth wander southwards, over smooth, bare flesh, kissing and biting. He listened to Frodo, the hitch in Frodo's breath, and the delight that was bared in Frodo's moan. Harder, Frodo was saying, and Merry gave it to him. Gave it to him, and he felt Frodo quaking beneath his touch. He it down hard and Frodo cried out, fingers clenching over Merry's shoulder.

And this was good. Merry knelt, let his mouth wander further softly, over soft skin that he could feel shivering, cool and pliant, beneath warm lips. Frodo tasted lightly of sun and summer air, which was inexplicable, as it was a too hot autumn day, but Merry could not draw away from something so sweet. Frodo whimpered, and Merry sucked, dipping his tongue to lick Frodo's navel, and Merry felt Frodo quake beneath him (well, against him, really, but it was all the same).

"Merry," Frodo breathed, exhaling sharply, and Merry felt the ground hard and firm beneath his knees, almost too hard, and too firm, and maybe it was the effort of supporting Frodo that made him feel like he would break. He exhaled, and he knew Frodo was leaning back against the desk, and Frodo shook, expectant, and Merry thought that it was a funny thought to have, at least right then, because he knew whatever he could give Frodo, that there was a possibility that it would do nothing at all. Fine lines between pleasure and expectance and whatever was more, and they would learn nothing from this.

But that didn't stop Merry, because he knew it never did stop Pippin, and Merry had been on the receiving end of that more times than he could count. He undid the button at Frodo's trousers, sliding it free, and the cloth slid down slowly over smooth skin. The breeches dropped, hitching on Frodo's hips, waiting there as if for Merry. And Merry exhaled, against Frodo's belly, kissed the fine hair there that dipped down from his belly button, down below his britches, and Frodo gasped and moaned and said something so liquid and incoherent that Merry felt things melt.

He gripped the trousers, pulled down until they were rucked around Frodo's knees, and Merry steadied himself, and Frodo too, one hand gripping at Frodo's hip, and the warm, firm weight of Frodo's cock in the other. It twitched, and Frodo seemed to, as well, and Merry looked up for just one moment, before he mouthed the head.

Frodo twitched once more, seeming to pulse, and Merry sucked him in, fully, except for where he gripped the base. Frodo groaned and moaned and pleaded, gasping softly, even chanting oh, oh, oh, and Merry, pleasepleaseplease, as Merry sucked, and licked, and rubbed. He had taken everything, and Frodo was shaking, gripping the edge of the desk weakly. His knees were trembling, and Merry felt it. He licked and he drew back, sucking harder, insistent even, on the very tip, and Frodo cried out so vehemently, shaking with passion, that Merry could feel it building.

Frodo was about to break.

"Please Merry, please, oh, please, pleasepleaseplease," and he gasped, incoherently, and Merry felt sweat even at Frodo's hip. He rubbed, and he caressed, and Frodo's chanting grew, the litany increased, until Merry felt it flashing, white and hot, and Frodo was shaking, twitching, gasping, as Merry sucked him dry.

"Merry," Frodo moaned, boneless, and he slid onto Merry's lap, limp and dazed. There was high colour in his cheeks, and Merry wondered at the long and dark dirty smudge that followed the line of Frodo's chin. "Merry," Frodo said again, frowning, but then he laughed, as if he was testing the word.

Merry drew Frodo close, and they kissed, open-mouthed, wet and hot, and Merry didn't underestimate Frodo for even a moment, and he wasn't surprised at all when the world shook and trembled and Frodo's hands were working the fastenings of his trousers. "Frodo," he gasped, and Frodo sucked on that breath, sucked on his lips, and his hands were quick and warm and clever as he grasped Merry. Merry arched into that touch, groaning like something gone mad, and Frodo rocked into him, kissed him harder, and pushed him down onto the ground. There he was, settled against Merry, and Merry's legs were spread wide and Frodo's hand worked, shifting slightly, building friction on something that was already straining, too hard and too hot. Merry gasped and moaned, losing his eyes, and they kissed at times, breathing hard at others, and light flashed brilliant, too much, when Merry felt warmth spill on Frodo's hand (it hit his own stomach, as well).

Lying there, Merry gasped for breath, and Frodo did, too. Slowly, Frodo withdrew his hand, and when Merry opened his eyes, there was still colour on Frodo's cheek, and the dark smudge had been further blurred. He drew up, pushing up on his elbows so that he could reach Frodo's mouth, and they kissed, lazy and slow, for some time until they both parted, their breathing harsh in the silence.

Frodo laughed. "Distraction, your name is Merry," he said, and he pushed a hand back through Merry's hair, and kissed his brow. "You could give Pippin a run for that title, you know."

Merry chuckled, tasting Frodo on his lips, and he said, "I know," before kissing Frodo again.

They parted, as was their way, and they did sort Frodo's notes, as he had wanted. But the day was turning long and longer, and they washed and changed and cleaned up after themselves, and the dark was drawing closer as Merry made plans for their evening meal.

"Where are those two?" he wondered, and Frodo chuckled.

"Let me go see if they are coming, yet."

They were, at least, Merry heard Pippin, and then he heard Sam, from the front door, and Frodo's voice, too. Pippin came padding into the kitchen, and Merry looked back from where he stood at the old stove, and Pippin stretched, then fiddled with the top button on his shirt after he had put a great picnic basket and a bundle of old quilt, folded tight, onto the table. There were grass stains on the arms of his shirt, and there were darker ones on the brown fabric of his trousers. Merry felt his lips twitch, but he turned away, and pushed those thoughts away.

"You can't leave that there," Merry said, and Pippin yawned and stretched again, and Merry could hear the pop and creak and crack of joint and bone, and then Pippin went further, looping his arms around Merry's waist, settling the point of his chin on Merry's shoulder.

"I'll get it, dont worry."

"You should get it now," Merry continued, and he wondered if he was gruffer than he meant to be. He wasn't sure why.

Pippin kissed his cheek and clasped his hands over Merry's stomach. "Getting rid of me so soon?"

Merry sighed. The food was cooking (too much for three hobbits, really, and he hoped that Sam would be staying, because it was only sensible, and they needed that fourth), and he squirmed and turned in Pippin's arms, soundly said "No", and then kissed Pippin so hard that he felt Pippin rocking back, like his knees had gone to water, and Merry swayed, as if he was bound to fall.

"Merry," Pippin gasped, and then he grinned, looping his arms around Merry's neck and kissing him once more. Merry laughed against Pippin's mouth, and it wasn't long (but it was long enough) until Frodo and Sam joined them, and supper was put down on the table, and they sat down to their meal.

"So, what were you up to, while I was off stealing your gardener?"

Frodo laughed and Merry grinned. "Just sorting notes, you know, working with the books," Merry said, and gave Frodo a long look. Sam was blushing, and he muttered something, and Pippin touched him on the arm.

"Sounds as if Sam and I here had much more fun."

"It isn't right for you to all laugh at me like that when I blush," Sam said, but he laughed too, and turned and kissed Pippin right on the lips.