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Being at Beorn’s house had been very much needed. Bilbo felt well rested and relaxed in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time.
He liked the shape-shifter a lot, and his attention to detail in the garden was really second to none. Bilbo suspected he could have smashed him in a turnip growing competition, but overall, Beorn was a very competent gardener.
A competent gardener indeed. High praise from a hobbit.
It was a beautiful day, and as they trotted along on their loaned horses, Bilbo felt a sense of peace. He wondered idly if Beorn would mind if Bilbo stayed with him on the return journey. Bilbo liked to play the optimist, thoughts of the ‘dreaded things to come’ were blown away with the wind. For now he was happy to see himself returning to the Shire as a hale and healthy hobbit.
Maybe he could stay at Beorn’s for a few weeks. It would be nice to gather some more seeds, and exchange fertiliser tips.
Little Bunny! Bilbo scoffed. Silly old bear, honestly.
The landscape was changing as they drew close to Mirkwood, it felt a little harsher and unforgiving. He’d heard stories about the forest and Gandalf seemed to be on edge. So did Thorin, although he was being much more pleasant to Bilbo since the whole Carrock incident.
And that hug! Gods above and below, that hug. Bilbo had never been enveloped in such a hug before. It had felt utterly sensational. He was a little embarrassed with how much he liked it.
He raised his head to catch a glimpse of Thorin who was three or four horses ahead in their small caravan. Broad shoulders, his sword at his back. His seat on the horse was incredible. Not that a respectable hobbit should be looking at those types of things.
The horses picked carefully through the rocky terrain, but the path widened temporarily and Bilbo was pleasantly surprised that Bofur and Gloin had trotted to join him at either side. Both of the dwarves liked a natter, as did Bilbo.
They often asked many questions about the Shire, or hobbit culture. It was nice.
“Feeling rested, Master Baggins?” Bofur asked with his ever-present cheerful face. It was actually more mischievous than happy, but Bilbo liked a cheeky chap.
“Very much so, a very pleasant fellow was Beorn, I wouldn’t be put out at all to take tea with him again,” Bilbo admitted. For a hobbit this was a big deal indeed.
“Not for me, that skin changer made me feel nervous. Anyone who can change shape, shouldn’t be trusted,” Gloin said with a curl of his lip.
“Now, Gloin, you’re just saying that because the big fella hated all the dwarves, and if not for the wizard and the hobbit we’d have been slaughtered in our beds,” Bofur said cheerfully.
Bilbo laughed and caught Gandalf chuckling up ahead.
Gloin rolled his eyes. “It’s not natural, I’m telling you! Changing shapes is blasphemous. Mahal makes you in one shape and one shape you should remain!”
“I noticed you didn’t bring this up at his house,” Bilbo muttered, side-eyeing the big dwarf.
Bofur caught his eyes with a chuckle.
“And anyway, aren’t you lot supposed to be made from stone?” Bilbo continued. He poked Gloin in the side who let out an un-dwarflike squeak. “Seems to me you’re made of flesh and bone like the rest of us.”
“Don’t newborn hobbits pop out of the ground? Like fresh carrots?” asked Kili with a grin, from up ahead.
Bilbo threw a pinecone at him. It bonked off his head and made Fili choke with laughter.
“If I were you, Bilbo, I’d refrain from heading back to that bear's house…” Bofur pondered, smoking his pipe.
“And why is that?” Bilbo asked. Bloody dwarves and their elitism. They really didn’t like people out of their own race.
The path had widened further as they were now travelling through a copse of woodland which was rather lovely. The trees, although tall, were sparse, meaning three of four ponies could travel side by side. Bilbo could sense a little stream further down the hill.
“Cos, I think we were the only ones who were protecting your virtue. That bear wanted to eat you up for breakfast,” Bofur grinned, smoke coming out of his nostrils.
“And don’t forget about second breakfast,” piped up Nori from the back as the rest of the crew laughed.
Bilbo rolled his eyes. “He did not.”
A ridiculous sentiment. Beorn and he just got on well, that’s all. If anything Bilbo was really proud he was making friends on the road. He had struggled so much back in the Shire. People found him odd, and, in truth, he felt lonely. Meeting the elves in Rivendell, the company of dwarves itself, and Beorn, had made Bilbo feel wanted for the first time in his life.
It was a feeling he wasn’t used to. It was annoying him that the dwarves were making fun of something so precious.
“Well, if he did,” Bilbo said, feeling frustrated. “I’d have been very happy to accommodate him.”
It was as if the world stopped completely. The whole company halted their horses, dwarves turned in their seats and stared at Bilbo. Bofur dropped his pipe and had to pat his coat to put out the embers.
Gloin choked on his own spit.
Meanwhile, Gandalf hadn’t turned around but his face was toward the sky, probably muttering about idiotic hobbits.
Bilbo suddenly felt a bit concerned. Maybe the dwarves didn’t like the thought of Beorn and him together - not that that would work. Size-wize it would be a tight fit and an awkward experience for all involved. Plus, Bilbo did not find Beorn attractive.
Maybe, Bilbo thought sadly, dwarves felt the same way hobbits did about same-sex relationships. Maybe they felt they were all very well, but they didn’t get the job done, regarding babies and such.
Maybe they would now look at him differently too. Or maybe it was about to become much worse. And he’d be asked to leave.
Bilbo swallowed.
“Do you not have a hobbit lass to return to that holds your regard?” Balin asked gently.
Gandalf sighed.
“No,” Bilbo said, raising his chin. He let out some nervous laughter and shook his head. Might as well get it out of the way. “Females don’t tend to light my pipe, if you catch my meaning.”
He cleared his throat as thirteen pairs of eyes stared at him. As he was wont to do when he was nervous, Bilbo kept on talking.
“Umm, I’m quite certain this isn’t something you’d probably want to hear, and for that I’m sorry … I don’t want to make people feel uncomfortable. I’d never ever want to offend anyone, and I’d never try to push my feelings onto anyone else …”
Bilbo huffed out a laugh and tightened his hands on the reins of his pony. The pony, probably very aware of the tension, was adjusting its gait and shifting as Bilbo blathered on.
“I have learned from experience. My own community was very clear on the matter, and even though Elias Brackenweather pushed me up the wall of his smial and tried to have his way with me, people rather thought it was me who … had a problem. This was probably because he likes lads and lasses. Rather than just lads, as it were.”
Stop talking! He thought, furiously.
“Look, the point is, I can assure you, that I would never try anything … like that! Not that any of you need to worry about me overpowering you, as you could all throw me down the hillside with –”
To Bilbo’s dismay, weapons were drawn. The sharp sound of swords leaving their sheaves cut through his babble. Bilbo looked up with wide horrified eyes. “Now wait a minute,” Bilbo said, his hands out defensively.
“I have certain business to attend to … elsewhere,” Gandalf murmured before turning his horse around and galloping off. Bilbo watched him ride off with wide eyes.
Thorin pointed his swords at his nephews and Ori, drawing Bilbo’s attention. “No, you’re too young,” he barked. “Tie up the horses.”
Heart hammering, Bilbo stared in astonishment as some of the dwarves threw their swords and axes to the ground and jumped from their mounts. “W-what is happening?” he asked quietly.
Ignoring his question, Gloin grabbed Bilbo’s reins and drew him away from the others. “Let’s move away, lad.”
Oin followed, positioning himself on the other side of Bilbo. The brothers seemed reasonably calm. Ori, Fili and Kil were left tying up the company's horses looking grumpy and probably feeling left out.
Dwalin whistled for attention. “You know how this goes, it is NOT to the death! No weapons, no hits to the face for obvious reasons, and no hits to tackle, either, yeh bastards. Be no point otherwise!”
Thorin side eyed the group. “May the best dwarf win,” he growled.
Bilbo watched as all the dwarves picked a partner and to his astonishment they began to fight.
Nori ran to Dwalin, skidding on the floor beside the bigger dwarf, taking him out with an incredible sliding tackle. They rolled around on the ground beating the hell out of each other. Dori was already taking many hits to the gut from a much older Balin, the white haired dwarf, lifting his comrade off the ground with every punch.
Thorin was fighting Bifur. The two dwarves scrapping like beasts, Thorin ducked a massive hit from Bifur but followed it up with a boot to the stomach. As Bifur reared back, Nori was pulling Dwalin’s hair, who screeched and called him a nasty word, presumably in their own language. Dori had finally got the upper hand and had elbowed Balin in the ear. Bifur rammed Thorin, just as Bofur jumped up and kicked Bombur in the face.
“Hey!” Bombur grumbled, getting to his feet and charging after Bofur. Balin finally got his bearings and dropped the nut on a stunned Dori.
Bilbo watched in awe as Thorin grabbed Bifur, spun him around and threw him into Dori and Balin with a mighty roar, following after with big thudding footsteps.
“Gloin,” Bilbo croaked, staring with wide eyes as Bombur ran past after Bofur, who was wailing and laughing at the same time. “W-what is happening?” he asked again.
“Well, it’s a dwarf thing …” Gloin said, unhelpfully. “It’s hard to translate into the common tongue.”
Bofur ran straight up a tree and came down on Bombur’s head, elegantly flipping him onto his back. The smaller dwarf booted him in the tummy before running off laughing.
Oin cleared his throat as Nori finally lay on the ground, breathing heavily and waving Dwalin away, breathlessly calling for arley barley.
Dwalin immediately sprinted towards Bombur, who had managed to finally take out his brother. As a final move he rolled over a breathlessly surrendering Bofur. Only to be punted across the floor by Dwalin, who then jumped on him.
“It’s like a fight of honour, lad,” Oin concluded. “Like a … way to decide.”
Dwalin punched Bombur so hard the cook’s head bounced off the forest floor. At that moment. Fili handed a smug Kili some coins.
“Decide what?” Bilbo asked hesitantly, as Thorin rammed Dori to the ground. Bilbo swore he heard something crack.
Dori held his fists together and bashed Thorin on the back of the head, allowing him a minute to get unsteadily to his feet. “Yes, Dori!” shouted Ori loyally.
As Thorin kicked out Dori’s legs from under him again and elbow dropped him, all three of the mounted company watched in awe as the colossally rotund Bombur was thrown into the woods by Dwalin.
“Decide what?” Bilbo asked a little desperately.
“Well, decide who gets to …” Oin rolled his hand and looked helplessly at his brother.
Gloin blinked. “Have you.”
Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “I beg your pardon!”
At that moment, Thorin and Dwalin, the remaining victors, clashed together like roaring bears. The rest had crawled or limped to the three younger hobbits and were left watching the show, breathing heavily and clapping each other on the back for a good try.
“Not like that, as such,” Oin said, trying to calm Bilbo. “Have you to … accept them.”
“Accept them?” repeated Bilbo in horror. Thorin had Dwalin in a headlock, but Dwalin just wrapped his huge arms around his king and lifted him off the floor.
“Would always come down to these two,” Gloin said conversationally. “If I’d been allowed to fight, I’d have given them a run for their coin.”
Bilbo stared at Gloin in astonishment.
“Oh aye, me as well. Shame we’ve got our dams, not that I’d wish it were different … and of course the younguns may have given Bofur and Nori a bit of competition too. It’s over too soon really,” Oin inputted, smiling at Bilbo. “If I weren’t so attached to my lady-wife I’d have been the last standing, laddie.”
Gloin scoffed. “Mayhap in your dreams, Oin.”
Thorin and Dwalin had been scrapping on the floor for the last part of the conversation, Dwalin had seemingly had the upper hand, but now Thorin had his elbow under Dwalin’s throat and was using his other hand to lever it tighter.
Bilbo could hear the choking noises from his horse. “Goodness, is he – should we …?”
Gloin sniffed. “Won’t be long now.”
Dwalin seemed to lose consciousness and Thorin suddenly let him go. He popped his friend carefully on his side, and leaned down to listen to his chest a moment. Patting the large dwarf on the shoulder, Thorin staggered up, brushing himself down and the mood changed.
The King under the Mountain had cuts on his fists, and his clothing was disheveled but he looked … nice. Bilbo watched as he straightened himself out. Shaking his big head to collect himself, and brushing his fingers through his hair.
The laughing and swapping of coins died down and Thorin walked solemnly to Bilbo’s horse. He looked up at Bilbo and took a deep breath. It was strange looking down at the handsome King. Bilbo wasn’t immune to it, not in the slightest.
“My burglar, Bilbo Baggins,” he began in his deep voice. “I fought for your honour and won. I would ask for you to accept me. As I am, and for all that I should be. For whatever manner that pertains. I ask for time. With you, alone.”
Bilbo swallowed nervously. “Y-yes,” he said quietly. As if there would be any other answer. Bilbo still had no idea what this meant but he was damned if he didn’t go on this adventure.
Thorin’s smile was like the sun coming out, it started slow, and then warmed everything up. Shivering with anticipation, Bilbo basked in that smile. He wondered if he’d be getting another hug.
“Leave,” Thorin shouted to his company, his eyes still on Bilbo. “We’ll catch up.”
“Lucky bastard,” Dwalin muttered as he got off the ground. Bilbo hadn’t even noticed he’d woken. The rest of the company gathered their mounts and started to trot away. Gloin and Oin left without a goodbye, but Oin suddenly threw a small pot to Bilbo who caught it precariously. “For his injuries,” Oin stated softly.
Kili giggled helplessly and Bofur shoved at him as they trotted off.
Before long it was just the two of them. Thorin was still staring at him and Bilbo was trying desperately to get up the nerve to ask Thorin what all this had been about.
But the King's eyes, oh they were glorious, and they seemed reluctant to leave Bilbo’s.
“Umm,” Bilbo began, but Thorin reached up for him.
“Can I assist you, Bilbo. Could you come down?” asked Thorin, his head carefully cocked to the side.
“Yes.”
Thorin grasped Bilbo by the hips. His hands were large and they felt rather lovely around Bilbo’s waist. Bilbo fell gently into Thorin’s chest. He huffed out a nervous laugh as he was placed to his feet.
He cleared his throat and looked up at Thorin, who was very, very close. “Umm, that was …” he wrinkled his nose and tried again. “You and your company just had a brawl.”
Thorin looked amused. “Aye.”
Bilbo nodded and itched his nose. “Yes, and from what Gloin was saying … it was for honour?”
Thorin’s large hand gently sifted through Bilbo’s curls. His eyes lit up as Bilbo leaned into his touch. “Yes, my hobbit. For the honour … of you.”
~
Bilbo stood as patiently as he could as Thorin led their horses over to the trees, tying them swiftly. He removed his bedroll and returned to Bilbo’s side. There were a pile of rocks at their back, but the hazy sunshine still streamed through the leafy canopy. Thorin rolled out his bedding on the soft mossy grass and bade Bilbo come and sit with him. He handed Bilbo his waterskin, and watched as Bilbo drank thirstily.
Bilbo, being moderately concerned at what was to happen next, missed his mouth on the third gulp and some of the water dribbled down his chin. Thorin smoothed his thumb on Bilbo’s dripping chin and sucked in the droplets.
It was intensely erotic. Bilbo cleared his throat and handed back the skin with thanks.
“Well, umm … are you hurt?”
Thorin shook his head.
“These look painful,” Bilbo murmured, gesturing to his knuckles.
“Cannot feel an ounce of pain,” Thorin replied.
“Umm,” Bilbo said again wondering what on middle earth he was going to say.
“It was not easy to hear about this Brackenweather,” Thorin intoned, placing the water skin to the ground by their roll. He sat with a knee bent and his elbow relaxed atop.
Bilbo had his legs crossed. He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“He took advantage!” Thorin insisted.
Bilbo frowned. “Well he didn’t get far, I whacked him with a frying pan.”
Thoring chuffed out a laugh. “I’m sure you did, but I do not like someone taking advantage of you, and you being blamed for it …”
Bilbo shrugged. “People think I’m … odd.”
Thorin smiled, his eyes warm like freshly baked scones. “Aye. T’is becoming.”
Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “That, Thorin Oakenshield, is not a compliment.”
Leaning forward, Thorin brushed his fingertips on Bilbo’s curls at the nape of his neck. “I’m not here to give you fancy, vacuous words, my hobbit. I’m here for other reasons.”
“A-and what reasons … are those?”
Amusement lit up the dwarf’s handsome face. “Truth …” he said, and then he lowered his eyelashes and moved closer still. With his mouth to Bilbo’s ear, he whispered, “and pleasure.”
Bilbo froze in shock. “Pleasure?”
“Aye, if you’ll have me.”
“And if I won’t?”
Thorin backed off. “Then, we talk a moment, if you are still willing, and ride out to meet the others.”
Bilbo drew a deep breath. “I am not a dwarf, Thorin,” he explained sensibly.
Thorin nodded, that amusement was back. “I had noticed.”
Gesturing at Thorin, he continued. “I have no beard, or muscles … no axe, no tattoos!”
Thorin continued nodding. “Yes, I agree. You are lacking in dwarf attributes.”
Bilbo frowned. “Are you even … attracted to me?”
Thorin cleared his throat and sat back on his arms. He looked to the sky. “My comrades and I … I’d even go as far to say the dwarrow as a whole, see beauty in attributes that do not come from the design of your parentage. When we desire, hobbit,” Thorin continued, this time looking directly at Bilbo. “It is more likely to come from action rather than how someone looks.”
“Oh,” said Bilbo, feeling a bit depressed.
“What we see when we look at you, is honour and courage. A steadfastness and leadership. Quick-thinking and much good humour.”
Bilbo nodded again, thinking this was all very well and good but it sounded like he was pig ugly and had a ‘good’ personality.
“The fact you have an extremely nice arse and pretty face also helps quite a bit,” Thorin added thoughtfully.
Bilbo laughed.
Thoring grinned handsomely. He cocked his head. “Do you have an answer for me, Bilbo?”
“About the pleasure bit?”
Thorin nodded slowly.
“I would not be against it,” he said, lifting his chin. “As you have quite a pretty face.”
“And what of my arse?” Thorin asked mischievously.
Bilbo grinned. “Yes, that’s pretty too.”
Within half a second, Bilbo was flat on his back with Thorin lying over him. Thorin’s hand cradled his face. The big dwarf lowered his head slowly toward Bilbo, probably waiting to see if Bilbo would hit him with a frying pan.
Bilbo thought it was far too slow and raised up to meet him. The kiss was chaste, momentarily. A mere touch of lips. Thorin had excellent lips and Bilbo very much liked the fact he was being held. Thorin’s hands drifted into the hair at the nape of his neck. It was heavenly, but it wasn’t quite … enough.
Angling his head, Bilbo licked the seam of Thorin’s lips. The groan that followed was perfect. Bilbo decided that having Thorin’s tongue in his mouth was exquisite and he would be doing this far more often as it would make the overall journey quite tolerable.
Thorin, happy with how things were going, was busy unbuttoning Bilbo’s waistcoat. He also had his very large thigh in between Bilbo’s legs and Bilbo seemed to be merrily rubbing himself against it. The act, uncontrollable, but it felt divine.
“Gorgeous hobbit,” Thorin growled as he kissed a pathway onto Bilbo’s neck. “I wish to devour you.”
“Mmm, yes please,” Bilbo murmured, wondering if he had ever been this aroused in his life. His hands roamed the plains of Thorin’s back. Just feeling the shoulder blades was taking ages, the muscles flexed as the dwarf managed to remove Bilbo’s shirt and waistcoat.
The feeling of a rough beard on his skin was simply the best thing that had ever happened. Bilbo whimpered with how lovely it felt when Thorin licked and sucked his nipples. Feeling like he should be contributing, Bilbo managed to make his fingers work enough to untie the belt around Thorin's tunic.
Thorin sat up a moment to take his top layers off, giving Bilbo a glimpse of his magnificently muscled, hairy chest. “You are beautiful,” mumbled Bilbo as Thorin covered him once more.
Thorin rumbled a response, far too busy kissing Bilbo and undoing his trousers and started to kick them down Bilbo’s legs. Thorin’s came off next, his boots clanged against the rocks as he settled himself in the cradle of Bilbo’s open thighs.
Bilbo couldn’t help but groan as their cocks connected. “Gods and sweet glades by the river, that is … lovely.”
Thorin thrust against him. “You are a fucking wonder … Bilbo. Tell me to suck you off,” Thorin ordered.
“Yes, please… I would very much like that,” Bilbo said breathlessly.
Thorin stopped thrusting and raised an eyebrow.
“Umm, can you …” Bilbo closed his eyes with deep embarrassment. “Suck me off?”
“Gladly,” Thorin said in that deep voice of his. He kissed a path down Bilbo’s body muttering about how gorgeous and hairless he was. How perfect and beautiful. Humiliatingly, Bilbo’s arousal was leaking right out of his cock, but Thorin licked it all up making Bilbo cry out.
“AaaAAaah, gods! And the sweet green lady!”
“You taste delicious,” Thorin growled and slipped Bilbo’s whole cock in his mouth, sucking with relish.
Breathing heavily and desperately trying not to be loud, Bilbo held onto his mouth. Thorin’s hand grabbed his wrist and placed it on the back of his own head instead. Encouraging Bilbo to push down.
Bilbo was tentative at first, gliding his fingers through Thorin’s gorgeous, thick hair. Thorin was doing such a good job that Bilbo couldn’t help placing some pressure on his head and pushing him down a little further.
Thorin groaned and gagged, coming off with such a hooded look for Bilbo. “Yes, again,” he demanded.
Bilbo did as asked and was so close to coming he had to pull the dwarf away, making Thorin come off him with a pop.
“I’m sorry, but I was going to – I thought we might …?” Bilbo waggled the pot that Oin had given him. Yes, he wasn’t that slow, he had gathered it might be for that reason. Now that things lay a little clearer.
Thorin’s eyes darkened and he looked predatory as he climbed back up Bilbo’s body. “Can I take you, my burglar? To lay with you? Deep inside?”
Bilbo's chest was rising up and down like the bellows by his fireplace at Bag End. He had glimpsed Thorin’s cock and was incredibly excited by the thought of being taken, so he nodded, furiously. “Yes, if you would like to.”
In answer, the pot was taken from his hand and Bilbo was kissed thoroughly. As they kissed, Thorin drew up Bilbo’s knees and opened him up. Thick lubricated fingers, teased his rim.
Bilbo’s eyes were wide whilst Thorin took his time. The big dwarf watched for every moan and tremble from Bilbo, looking to see what worked and what was too much. There were lots of kisses, caresses and words whispered into his ears. Thorin licked up the shell and Bilbo shivered as a second finger was placed deep inside him.
“I have thought of you like this, my hobbit. I have dreamed of you writhing on my fingers … it does not compare to the real thing,” Thorin whispered.
“Yep, yes. Oh yes, so have I!”
“You look good on yer back, legs wide open, accepting me so well …”
“Hgnh,” moaned Bilbo insensibly.
He shoved his tongue into Thorin’s mouth, kissing him harshly and directing his head thus. Bilbo had lost some of his courtesy as he hobbit-handled his big dwarf.
Before long, Thorin’s cock was pressed to his rim, ready to delve inside. Bilbo nodded and Thorin pushed the tip in. Bilbo’s back arched accordingly as he breathed out, relaxing as much as he could.
“Mahal, look at you!” Thorin growled. “No one else, Bilbo Baggins, only me from now on …”
“Yes,” Bilbo agreed, not really thinking about Thorin’s words.
“Feels so good,” Thorin murmured with gritted teeth, pushing further inside. “Soft as petals and tighter than a vice.”
Thorin enclosed Bilbo’s much smaller body, pushing his knees up to his chest. He thrust deeper until he bottomed out. “Oh gods,” moaned Bilbo, overcome with desire. “T’is too good.”
“Aye, ghivashel, it has never been this good.”
Thorin gave Bilbo a small reprieve but then started to thrust in a slow rhythm. It built in strength and speed. And soon it became incredible and Bilbo tried to meet Thorin but the bigger dwarf controlled everything, his teeth gritted, his eyes hooded. Hitting that spot that made everything go hazy and beautiful. Bilbo could only hold on, trying desperately to remember to breathe.
He was going to orgasm, completely untouched. It was rising within him, growing like a sunflower, so big and bright.
Bilbo’s head fell back into the cradle of Thorin’s large hands as the dwarf thrust into him.
“I-I-I … oh, please!”
Thorin looked down at him with lust filled eyes. “Anything,” he whispered and then proceeded to growl in his own language. Bilbo had no idea what he was saying but it was dripping in filth. Which was nice, in its way.
Without warning Thorin bit into the flesh in between Bilbo’s shoulder and neck. He cried out and came all over Thorin’s solid stomach.
“Mahal save me!” Thorin cried before shuddering and almost collapsing into Bilbo.
~
They had cleaned up a little and now Thorin had his big head on Bilbo’s chest. Bilbo was grooming him, finger combing his hair and enjoying the soft rumbling sounds that came from Thorin.
It had taken a few moments but they had both become more sensible after spilling such (a lot) of fluid all over each other.
Bilbo smiled slyly, filled with amusement. “So did he? Save you?”
Thorin pinched Bilbo quite nastily on the side. “Oooh, that hurt!”
“Serves you right,” groused Thorin. “Mocking a clearly infatuated dwarf on such a lovely afternoon.”
Bilbo frowned suddenly. Almost coming-to and realising that they were alone and had been outrunning orcs until just recently. “Are we quite safe here?”
Thorin laughed. “Now he asks … yes, my sweet hobbit. We are safe, there are twelve dwarven folk scattered around us making sure we are undisturbed.”
Bilbo sat up with a gasp, ensuring that Thorin’s head fell with a thump to the bedroll. “Oh no! That’s … oh no. I don’t like that. Have they been listening?”
Thorin sat up and placed a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “Peace, Bilbo. They do not care of what they have heard.”
“I care!” Bilbo said feeling sweaty and nauseous.
“Well, you moan so sweetly. I’m sure it was music to their ears.”
Bilbo gave Thorin a grumpy look. “I can’t believe this.”
Thorin just looked amused.
“It’s not funny!” Bilbo groused.
“When you get angry, it’s like a tiny bee buzzing by an ear …” Thorin admitted with a grin.
“That’s insulting, I’m not tiny!”
“Nay, you’ve quite the set of muscles,” Thorin said, grasping Bilbo’s skinny bicep and squeezing them.
“That is the last time you’re getting a free opportunity with my arse, Thorin,” Bilbo said, getting up and putting on his trousers.
“You tell him, Bilbo!” shouted Bofur from the trees.
“Aye lad, I’m available, if you’re up for it,” Dwalin shouted from across the way.
Bilbo's eyes widened and he gave Thorin a look. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, throwing his shirt over his shoulders. “You are all awful.”
“Fuck off, the lot of you,” shouted Thorin to the trees. He got up and stood naked, taking Bilbo in his arms. “Bilbo, sweet darlin’ … my sincere apologies, I should have told you.”
Bilbo glanced up at a very contrite Thorin. He looked, as you’d expect, spectacular. Muscled, glorious, and beautiful.
A warrior, with a pout.
Bilbo rolled his eyes. “That’s quite alright,” he mumbled as Thorin smiled in relief. “But next time, privacy, if you please.”
Thorin nodded furiously and then kissed him carefully. He started hopping into his breeches, pulling them up his thick thighs. “I swear, love. Private and comfortable … but maybe in between, we could sneak off for a quick cocksucking?”
Bilbo did up the buttons on his waistcoat with a nonchalant shrug. “Yes, alright,” he agreed soberly.
He then turned his face whilst he grinned and tried not to shriek with excitement. Bilbo may not have been a hobbit’s first choice, but quite a lot of dwarves thought he was nice. And a King wanted him, that was surely something.
Thorin smacked his arse as he took his tied up bedroll back to the horses. “Stop faffing about, hobbit, we need to crack on.”
Bilbo rolled his eyes, smoothing his hand down his sore rump. “I’m coming, your highness.”
Thorin lifted Bilbo back onto his pony with a cheeky wink. “That’s right, lowly peasant, just you remember that.”
Bilbo suddenly had a thought. “I shan’t be passed around to all your brethren, by the way. I don’t like that sort of thing …” he said with a tut.
“Nay, agreed. They know who you belong to,” Thorin replied, hoisting himself up and grabbing the reins for Bilbo’s pony. He dragged it closer and laid a kiss on Bilbo’s cheek as they walked-on.
“If you’re saying I belong to myself … that’s correct,” Bilbo explained pleasantly.
Thorin laughed. He said something in his own language as Dwalin and Bombur trotted out of the trees.
The other dwarves laughed.
Bilbo’s embarrassment increased, but Dwalin leaned down to push his forehead against Bilbo’s in the sweetest gesture of brotherhood. “Honourable hobbit, I’m happy for ye both.” He drew away just as quickly.
Thorin caught his eye and smiled. “I’d fight a thousand for him, and win every battle.”
After that, Bilbo couldn’t quite seem to feel embarrassed anymore.
~