Isn't the human brain a weird place?
Like everybody on the planet -at least the one populated with fans- I spent quite some time looking delightedly at the pictures of Billy's wedding. Then I started thinking about Sam's wedding in RotK, and next thing I knew both marriages had mixed and, with the help of the fairy Slashy, bred the following offspring...
Pairing: Frolijah/Domerry
Word count: 300 (a tribble)
Rating: PG-13
“I'll never wear that yellow waistcoat again, I swear!”
“But... Why? I've always thought you looked great in it. And it matches your hair.”
“I overheard Pippin tell Sam it makes me look fat!” Merry exclaimed, angrily unbuttoning the offending piece of clothing.
“Come on, Pippin is just getting even with you for making fun of his security scarf.” Wrapping a comforting arm around Merry's waist, Frodo petted the yellow fabric. “You're not fat, you're well-padded, as befits a hobbit. Besides, I suspect Pippin's being a little jealous. After all, now that Sam's married Rosie, he's the only one still single.”
Frodo's caressing hand started sliding down, and Merry's pout softened into a suggestion of a smile.
“And you were so busy being self-conscious about your waistcoat that you haven't told me yet what you think of my new breeches,” Frodo added in mock indignation, pressing the placket of said breeches against Merry's hip in case he needed a reminder. A wicked smile spread across Merry's face, and he grabbed a handful of fabric along with a good portion of Frodo's left buttock.
“These verrrry close-fitting things? I've been wondering how you managed to put them on without needing a shoehorn. They completely eclipsed Rosie's wedding dress, by the way. I bet Sam spent more time ogling your wedding tackle than peering into his fiancée's décolleté.”
“That's not true, and you know it,” Frodo laughed, a little breathlessly as the massage his rump was getting intensified. “You were the only one ogling, you satyr! Now, back to my breeches: do you like them, or not?”
“Oh, the breeches are lovely, but I think I prefer them in your wardrobe..” Merry's grin turned positively lecherous. “...and you in my bed.”
Pairing: Frolijah/Domerry
Word count: 300 (a tribble)
Rating: PG-13
“I'll never wear that yellow waistcoat again, I swear!”
“But... Why? I've always thought you looked great in it. And it matches your hair.”
“I overheard Pippin tell Sam it makes me look fat!” Merry exclaimed, angrily unbuttoning the offending piece of clothing.
“Come on, Pippin is just getting even with you for making fun of his security scarf.” Wrapping a comforting arm around Merry's waist, Frodo petted the yellow fabric. “You're not fat, you're well-padded, as befits a hobbit. Besides, I suspect Pippin's being a little jealous. After all, now that Sam's married Rosie, he's the only one still single.”
Frodo's caressing hand started sliding down, and Merry's pout softened into a suggestion of a smile.
“And you were so busy being self-conscious about your waistcoat that you haven't told me yet what you think of my new breeches,” Frodo added in mock indignation, pressing the placket of said breeches against Merry's hip in case he needed a reminder. A wicked smile spread across Merry's face, and he grabbed a handful of fabric along with a good portion of Frodo's left buttock.
“These verrrry close-fitting things? I've been wondering how you managed to put them on without needing a shoehorn. They completely eclipsed Rosie's wedding dress, by the way. I bet Sam spent more time ogling your wedding tackle than peering into his fiancée's décolleté.”
“That's not true, and you know it,” Frodo laughed, a little breathlessly as the massage his rump was getting intensified. “You were the only one ogling, you satyr! Now, back to my breeches: do you like them, or not?”
“Oh, the breeches are lovely, but I think I prefer them in your wardrobe..” Merry's grin turned positively lecherous. “...and you in my bed.”