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Pippin and Merry had only been slightly tipsy when they made the impulsive decision to explode that massive firework into the night sky. Gandalf had hauled them aside by their ears to scold them, and demanded they clean up. This didn't involve much more than rinsing their hair, washing the soot from their faces, and picking up bits of debris that had scattered across the lawn, but the two of them hadn't taken much enjoyment in the menial task. And that was early in the evening, at that.
Presently, Merry and Pippin had decided to drown themselves in ale as opposed to causing any more mischief at the party. They sat across from each other at a table, barely talking, mostly drinking.
Merry, with a tiny ounce of common sense more than Pippin, had known when to slow his intake of drink. On the other hand, Pippin was barely able to bring the pint to his lips without spilling, but continued to consume the ale.
"Oi, Merry," He laughed suddenly after another large gulp. "There's two of you now?"
"You're drunk, Pip." Merry glared unamusedly at Pippin from over the top of his tankard.
Merry was not a high-energy drunk. When he had had his fill, he simply became lethargic and weighed-down by the punch and barely responded to external stimuli.
"Me! Drunk!" Pippin cried in playful indignation, his head bobbing drunkenly as he tried to right himself. He laughed. "If anyone here is drunk, it's you."
And yet Pippin could not quell the giggles that bubbled in his throat, despite Merry's blank-slate, stone-faced expression. Pippin hadn't even quite noticed how exhausted his friend seemed. All he could feel was the pleasant buzz of the ale fizzing throughout every nerve in his body.
"Pip, maybe you should slow down a little." Merry said, his speech still quite slurred, despite being significantly less drunk than Pippin.
Pippin hiccuped. "How many people are still here, Merry?" He asked, ignoring the other fellow's advice. Even if Pip had enough sense left in him to turn around and see who was still at the party, his vision was completely blurred and spinning. You'd think it was his first time having a drink.
"Not many." Merry sighed, lowering his head exhaustedly.
"Are Frodo and Samwise around?" Pip asked absently, his eyes glancing around, but clearly not observing much.
"No. They've gone."
Pippin made a small sound that Merry didn't catch. He couldn't tell what it was.
"You reckon you could walk me home, Merry?" Pippin asked in a suddenly very soft tone, almost as if he felt shy to have asked it.
"Your home is far, and I'm also quite affected by the ale, Pip. It wouldn't be any good."
"What do you mean?" Pip asked, blinking blearily at Merry with his face flushed and slightly dampened with sweat from the ale.
"Nothing." Merry said, abandoning his mug. "I'll walk you home. You're in poor shape."
Merry shakily stood, mostly weary from sitting too long, and not from the alcohol.
Before Pippin had even made an attempt to stand, Merry was by his side and ready to lift him to his feet. He wrapped one arm around Pippin's shoulders, and used his other hand to grip Pippin's arm to guide him.
Immediately, Pippin's knees buckled and his hand gripped at the fabric on Merry's garments to keep himself on his feet. That, and the fact that Merry was physically holding him upright.
"Merry." Pippin gasped.
"What."
"I can't stand."
"I can see that."
"How am I supposed to walk?"
Merry gave him a firm tug on the arm. "You'll figure it out. Come. I'll drag you along."
And indeed Merry did.
There were only a few stragglers left at the party that they had to push past, all the while Pippin's feet were stumbling senselessly as Merry pulled him along. A few of the other hobbits snickered or giggled at the sight, but none offered to help them get home.
The music faded and the light slowly disappeared as the two hobbits made their way further and further from the party. They didn't speak to each other, as they were both only mere minutes away from falling asleep where they stood.
Merry was startled by a sudden jolt from his drunken friend. Pippin made a noise.
"What is it, Pip?" Merry asked.
Pippin didn't say anything at first, he only blinked and stared blankly ahead. They stood still and halted their stumbling.
"Pippin."
"What?"
"You jumped just then, I felt it. Are you gonna be sick?"
Pippin almost seemed to ponder this for a moment. He stared down at the ground with his eyebrows knitted in thought.
"No..." He said. "I don't think so. It's something else..."
Merry allowed Pippin some time to gather his words, until;
"I don't know. I think I'm just very drunk." Pippin slurred out, almost beginning to giggle again. Merry gave him a tug and they continued down the dirt road to Pippin's home. Less than fifteen minutes away, Merry reasoned with himself.
They continued staggering along, and Merry himself began to feel tired, as if he might start stumbling himself.
Pippin's movements became more worrisome, and soon he could barely even stumble correctly. Merry wasn't only pulling him along, but was basically the only thing keeping him from tumbling over his own feet.
"Merry." Pippin said flatly, and almost soberly.
"What?" Merry once again thought that Pip was going to be sick, but he wasn't showing any signs of it other than some slightly uncomfortable squirming.
"I need to..." Pippin winced in discomfort, his movements becoming very obvious to Merry, now.
Oh. Of course.
Because why should anything be easy for Merry? Of course he couldn't simply walk his friend home without having to make a detour of some kind.
"We're almost to your place. Just wait a moment."
"I can't." He whispered in a panic.
Merry didn't mind him. "Yes, you can. We're almost there." Merry did not feel the need to bring the both of them off course simply because Pip couldn't hold in his drink.
Pippin was evidently too tired to protest, and allowed himself to be dragged on for several more minutes, although he continued to make soft noises of discomfort whenever Merry tugged him particularly hard.
Before long, Pippin needed to pause. His body was overwhelmed by the uncomfortable urgency that had built up in his abdomen. He stood and pressed his thighs together, which Merry hadn't noticed in the dark.
Thinking his friend was just stumbling again, Merry tugged Pippin by the arm and was met with something between a gasp and a whimper.
"Please." Pippin begged, tightening his grip around the fabric of Merry's waistcoat.
Merry looked down at his friend, whose legs had gone slack again, and whose face was completely flushed. Pip's breath had turned into shallow gasps, and he began to squirm where Merry was holding him up. He held onto Merry and crossed his legs with a whine.
"I'm-I can't-"
"Come on, now, Pip. Nearly there." Merry encouraged half-heartedly. He believed that Pippin was simply over exaggerating his need, just because of how drunk he was. Pip always tended to be more dramatic after drinking.
The two of them did not talk much over the next few minutes that passed. Pippin occasionally whimpered, and his steps had become even more unbalanced as Merry tried to guide him home.
"Oh-!" Pippin tripped over his own feet like a buffoon, and Merry was barely able to catch him before he completely face-planted in the dirt.
"You alright? Watch your step." Merry advised, rubbing Pip's shoulder comfortingly with one hand.
Pippin was on his feet again, staggering along with Merry's help, but he was not as quiet as before. He almost sounded like he was crying, with the way his breathing came in shallow little gasps. Merry looked down at his friend's face.
Oh. Pip was crying.
"What's the matter with you?" Merry asked gently, but unable to disguise his annoyance.
Pip was shaking as he sniffled and struggled not to completely collapse. His stance was rigid and he had one hand gripping himself through his trousers. Merry understood.
"Merry. Help me." Pippin whimpered tearfully, with tears freely flowing from his eyes and making his sweaty face appear even more damp and flushed.
"Alright, come on." Merry guided Pippin off the road, unsure of where exactly he was leading his friend. They were surrounded by homes of the other hobbits, and there wasn't much coverage anywhere.
Although it was unlikely that anyone would be out and about at such a late hour, Merry was still hesitant to let his friend disgrace some stranger's lawn.
"Please, hurry. I can't... I.." Pippin was too delirious, too overwhelmed, too exhausted to form a proper sentence. Merry rubbed his friend's quivering shoulders in encouragement. Pippin shuddered and let out a moan.
"I drank too much." Pippin sobbed. Merry couldn't tell if his friend was crying tears of shame, or if his tears were from the sheer discomfort of holding in all that ale. Either way, it pained Merry to see his friend this way.
"I know you drank too much. Just come now."
"'M sorry."
"What?"
"You've been carrying me the whole way." Pippin said blearily through his tears.
"It's okay." Merry said. "I don't mind a bit."
Merry brought Pippin up a small hill towards some trees. Looking down at his friend as he squirmed and writhed, Merry figured it would just have to do.
"Go to the trees." Merry said, beginning to let go of Pippin so as to give him some privacy to relieve himself. Immediately as he let go, though, Pippin began to wobble on his feet. He fell back into Merry's arms.
"Come with me." Pippin begged, squirming frantically in front of his friend. "Please, come with me. I can't wait any longer or-" Pippin cut himself off with a squeal of panic.
"I'm coming." Merry said hastily, ushering Pip to the closest tree and bringing him around to where he was out of view. He placed the back of his hand on Pippin's back and guided him to the base of the tree. He watched as the lad grasped uselessly at the buckle of his belt.
"Merry." He gasped. "My belt, I can't-" Pippin twisted his legs together frantically as he y continued trying to grasp at his belt. His hands were too tingly to even grab ahold of the damned thing, let alone unthread it back through the buckle.
"Move your hands."
Merry tried to undo the belt while facing Pippin, then found it was too difficult and instead decided to stand behind Pip and wrap his arms around his waist from behind. All the while, Pippin was jiggling so desperately in Merry's arms that he almost proved the task completely impossible.
"Calm down, Pip, or you'll make yourself faint."
"I'm going to disgrace myself-I-I can't-it hurts so much-"
Merry shushed him as he finished the task of undoing Pippin's belt.
"I've got you." Merry soothed, placing his hands on Pippin's shoulders, just to keep him upright.
Merry heard a splatter of liquid hit the dirt. Pippin gripped himself as he began to pee already, struggled to aim, and slumped into Merry's arms.
"Oh. Goodness." Pippin sighed in relief, shuddering as he emptied out all the ale that had been welling up in his bladder.
Merry said nothing, only held onto his friend until he was done taking care of his business. He tried to pretend like he wasn't there, and that none of this was happening.
"Thank you." Pip said breathlessly as his stream began to taper.
"Of course." Merry said.
Pippin shook himself off and fastened his trousers as best as he could with his hands feeling like their circulation had been cut off. His face was visibly relieved, but his eyes were still puffy and clouded from the tears he had shed earlier.
Not sober enough to feel embarrassed, but fully understanding how indecent he had just been, all Pippin could muster was;
"I want to go home."
"Let's go, then." Merry said, tugging Pippin back towards the road, and towards his home.
"Are you going to tell me about this tomorrow when I'm sober again?" Pippin asked blearily, finally smiling again for the first time over the past hour.
"I don't think so." Merry laughed, tightening his arm around Pippin affectionately.