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Hobbit Birthday Fic #9, daisyjonmartin

@hirilelfwraith requested qpp jondaisy with romantic jonmartin and friendly daisy&martin, which is the very best dynamic in the world

Daisy sprawls down on the sofa with a relieved sigh, glad to finally be able to stop moving. "There had better be popcorn that tastes like popcorn," she calls out, because she could start to smell a cloying mix of cinnamon and sugar when she was still in the shower. There always is, of course, but it's never a bad time to needle Jon about his sweet tooth. She drapes her arms over the back of the sofa, stretching out sore muscles.

"You say that like I'm torturing you with it," Jon grumbles as he tucks himself in beside her. There's a warm weight in her lap, and she opens her eyes to scrutinize the huge bowl of popcorn drenched in butter. When she's convinced it's acceptable, she gives him a thumbs up, and he rolls his eyes.

Martin deposits the drinks on the coffee table – a pitcher of whatever he's been experimenting with for the two of them; a couple of beers for Jon, who's learned better than to try to keep up with them, especially when Martin's mixing the drinks – and studies the remaining space on the sofa with a frown. There's room on either side, but that's not his problem. His problem is that he's much rather watch a movie with Jon resting his head on his shoulder, but if he's all the way over there, he has no access to the good popcorn. Daisy wraps her arm around the bowl and smirks at him.

He settles for sitting on the floor, leaning back against both their legs, which Daisy has to admit is a decent compromise. Jon is wriggled forward on the sofa so that he can run his hands through Martin's hair, which leaves him leaning comfortably against Daisy's shoulder. She wraps an arm around him without thinking; it's good, after spending all day on guard against her own reactions around strangers, to be able to relax.

Jon and Martin are bickering gently about each other's taste in films, which really aren't compatible at all; Daisy digs into a handful of popcorn and lets the sound of their affectionate banter drown out whatever they're actually saying. She doesn't care what they watch, that's not why she's here. Eventually they'll settle on something, and before the end credits Jon will be mostly asleep on her shoulder, and Martin will fuss very gently over him, and Jon will pretend to object when Martin picks him up to carry him off to bed, and she'll sleep on the unspeakably large couch that none of them would admit that they bought because all three of them could sleep on it at once if they tried, and in the morning she'll make a huge breakfast that really only she will eat but the boys will both be grateful for anyway. It's good to know how things are going to go, to have that predictability. Nothing to chase down, nothing to run from. No need to hole up anywhere alone.