Pippin was warm and comfortable and mostly asleep.  He was just about awake enough to appreciate that being warm and comfortable was rare these days, and he'd better enjoy it while he could.  At some point he realised that the warmth was radiating from Boromir, and the comfort was thanks to a thick pad of moss under his hips, and Boromir's soft tunic against his cheek.

Pippin sighed and unconsciously wriggled closer, sighing again when he felt Boromir's arm tighten around him.  Pippin decided that he was going to wallow for a while longer.  They'd no doubt be out saving Middle Earth soon enough; another hour or so of cuddling up against a velvet-clad Gondorman couldn't hurt.

Consciousness arrived slowly at first, taking a leap when Pippin noticed that he had his hand on Boromir's belt buckle.  Suddenly the unusual heat coming off Boromir made more sense.  As did the subtle tension Pippin could feel along Boromir's side.  Pippin let his hand slide a little lower and held back a naughty grin as he heard Boromir gasp slightly.

Pippin was unsure what to do next: he had his hand over a rather intimidating lump, what was he supposed to do with it?  The childish tweener games he and Merry had played behind Farmer Maggot's barn were a woefully inadequate source of information.  Still feigning sleep, Pippin squinted with one eye at the surroundings.  Merry was slumped, fast asleep, against Boromir's other side, and there was no one else in sight.  Pippin was relieved: he'd have died of embarrassment if Frodo or Gandalf had seen him with his hand on Boromir's… lump.

Merry twitched in his sleep and Pippin jumped, involuntarily rubbing hard at Boromir's crotch.  Boromir hissed, and the arm that had been curled around Pippin slid up until one large, warm palm settled over Pippin's right buttock and squeezed gently.

Pippin's eyes flew open and Boromir chuckled.  "So you're awake, little tease?"  Boromir whispered.  Pippin flushed bright red and buried his face in Boromir's tunic.  "Don't worry, I'll not hold you to anything.  Although, if you're not going to play, I'd appreciate it if you moved your hand."

Pippin paused for a moment, then slowly drew his hand away.  Boromir sighed in disappointment and curled his arm back around Pippin.  "Go back to sleep, little one.  We have precious little comfort in these times.  Enjoy it while it lasts."

Pippin cursed himself for a fool.  Comfort could come in many guises. Who knew if any of them would live to see another sunrise?  Careful not to wake Merry, he sat up and looked Boromir in the eyes.  Pippin saw sadness, hope, lust and a question.  Smiling, he pressed closer and answered the question with a kiss as he replaced his hand and began to learn about the comfort of men.

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