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Sparring and Spearing

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It was far past lunch, and Thorin was in a foul mood. He had been in meetings with Thranduil for the better part of the last four days, and the stubborn sprite would not yield. It was a peace treaty they had been working on, one where the elves of Mirkwood would allow safe passage for the dwarves of the Blue Mountains returning to Erebor. It seemed very simple. But nothing with Thranduil ever was.

Thorin huffed in frustration as he went over the last few hours in his head, and there was a chuckle from behind him.

“Something you want to say, Dwalin?” Thorin glanced over his shoulder in annoyance.
“You're wound tighter than Bilbo's ass.”
Thorin snickered. “Don't let him hear you say that. He'd probably-”
“What, kick my ass? Beat my face in? Rip me a new one? Those would be valiant threats if I wouldn't enjoy it so much.”
Thorin laughed again. “True, but I would still try not to incur his wrath. Bilbo can be quite vicious.”
“Again, you say that as if it's something I wouldn't enjoy.”
“You're terrible.”
“Aye, it's true. Though I'm not the one moping because some tree shagger won't yield. I say we set Bilbo on him.”
“Much as I would love to see our burglar give Thranduil a good pummeling, or even an angry scolding, this job must fall to me. I cannot hope to gain the elves respect by passing this duty off onto another.”
“Oh there ya go, getting all kingly and noble on me. You know what you need? Ya need a good ass kicking yourself. Why don't we go a few rounds in the training ring?”

“Well, I suppose there's a little time before Bilbo is due to be out of his meeting with Bard.” Thorin frowned. “I'm sure he's having better luck with the King of Dale than I've had with the King of Over-glorified Posturing.”

Dwalin threw an arm around Thorin's shoulder and gave him a devilish grin.
“Then let's have a go at it. I would enjoy nothing more after suffering elves than to work out frustration with you.”

Thorin smirked as the warrior winked and they headed to burn off some steam.

* * * * *

The training room was empty, which Thorin and Dwalin were grateful for, and the king quickly shed his royal garb, shucking down to his light ornamental armor.
“I don't think that's very fair, do you? That armor is near worthless against attack,” Dwalin complained.
“You say that as though you are capable of breaking my defenses,” Thorin shot back hotly.
Dwalin's eyebrows raised skyward. “Oh, pretty self assured, are ya?”
“If you're so worried about it, why don't you level the playing field a bit?” Thorin challenged.
Dwalin gave him a feral grin, pulling off his outer layers until he stood in naught but his trousers.
“There. Feel better?” Thorin quipped.
“A bit.”

Thorin lunged, and the warrior dodged at the last minute, spinning out of the way as Thorin's sword slashed the air where he had just been standing.

“Easy, Thorin! I didn't think you actually meant to maim me!”
“I knew you would dodge my attack. Or are you telling me you've gotten slow?” Thorin suggested, raising an eyebrow at Dwalin and tilting his chin challengingly.
The warrior's gaze hardened, and he attacked his king with vigor.

Balin stood in the doorway, watching his brother spar with the king. They had always been evenly matched, and it always ended the same.

Dwalin would never let himself win against his king.

Balin frowned as he noticed there was something different between them today. The movements were familiar, the attacks and counters nearly ingrained permanently into well practiced muscles. But somehow, it seemed different from any other time he had witnessed the two together. There almost seemed to be a little more care, more banter and smiles shared between the two as they playfully sparred.

Flirting. They were flirting. Balin frowned as this realization hit him. What of Bilbo? He knew the king was madly in love with the company burglar, but how did Dwalin fit in? His brother had always loved their king, but he knew his boundaries. He would never risk Thorin's happiness, so this could not possibly be an affair.

Balin frowned and looked up to where Thorin had cornered Dwalin, or Dwalin had allowed himself to be cornered. He watched as Thorin threw his sword aside, his gaze hungry as he shoved Dwalin hard into the wall, grabbing his waist and taking him in a deep and passionate kiss.

Perhaps it was an affair, Balin thought as he quickly withdrew to stand around the corner, cheeks a bit red at having witnessed his king man handle his brother so lasciviously. He closed his eyes and tried to shake the image from his head as he retreated down the corridor, troubled by what he had just witnessed. Bilbo was going to be heartbroken.

* * * * *

“Can you cancel the meeting with the the council this afternoon? I feel the need to take the rest of the day off with you, My King,” Dwalin said breathily before latching on to Thorin's neck and nipping at the tender flesh.
“Yes.” Thorin let out a low growl of appreciation as Dwalin reached down and ran a hand over the obvious bulge in Thorin's pants.
“I- I think we can reschedule for tomorrow.” Thorin quirked a suggestive grin at Dwalin. “Do you wish to otherwise engage your king?” he quipped.

“Aye. I wish to take full advantage of him until Bilbo gets home. At which point, he can do whatever he wishes with either of us. Perhaps he'll punish us for shirking our duties in favor of carnal activities.”
“I would find that quite agreeable,” Thorin said as he pulled away and grabbed Dwalin by the hand. “Let's go.” He dragged the warrior off, eager to get him back to the rooms.

The door had only just closed behind them when Thorin rounded on Dwalin and shoved him roughly into the stone. He closed the distance between them, slamming their mouths together and took Dwalin in a searing kiss. The warrior acquiesced, tilting his head to accommodate Thorin's advances. The king melted into the kiss, bracing a knee between Dwalin's legs and grinding his already hardening cock on the warrior's thigh. Dwalin swallowed the king's groans, his hands sliding up Thorin's chest until he could place them on the king's shoulders. He pushed Thorin hard, causing him to stagger, and threw a booted foot out to trip him, and the king stumbled and fell onto his back on the floor.

There wasn't a moment's pause before Dwalin was on him, laying heavily between his legs and sliding against Thorin's bare sweat kissed chest, burying his hands in the damp length of raven hair splayed out across the floor. His kiss was rough and urgent, and Thorin met him with equal fervor, the two fighting for control and grinding their hips together roughly.

Thorin suddenly pulled back, flinging his legs up and locking them around Dwalin's chest. The warrior was caught entirely by surprise as Thorin yanked him backwards to the ground. Thorin sat up, pulling his legs free, and quickly began working at his laces. His fingers fumbled a bit, but finally he managed to free his throbbing length from its leather prison.

Dwalin scrambled and struggled half heartedly as Thorin situated himself between his legs and grabbed the warrior by the waist lifting him up slightly so he could divest him of his trousers.

Dwalin growled as his pants were quickly removed and cast thoughtlessly across the room. He saw his opportunity as Thorin was attempting to finish removing his own pants. Dwalin sat up and shoved Thorin to the floor, quickly taking the advantage.

“You would dare overthrow me?” Thorin challenged in amusement.
Dwalin affixed Thorin with his hooded gaze. “Never, My King.”
“Then bow before me,” Thorin challenged, raising a suggestive brow.
Dwalin grinned seductively, bowing as he was told until his face was level with Thorin's hardened length.

Thorin's lip curled into a feral grin as his eyes locked on Dwalin's.
“Will you pleasure your king?” he asked the warrior breathily.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Dwalin was clearly enjoying the game. He flicked his tongue out teasingly, running it slowly up the length of Thorin's cock. Thorin groaned, his hips pulsing up at the sensation. Dwalin laved his tongue over the head and Thorin growled in anticipation, trying to thrust into Dwalin's mouth.

“No teasing! By order of the king!” Thorin demanded between breathy laughs.
“I wish Bilbo was here to shut you up,” Dwalin growled, rolling his eyes. “That's about the most ridiculous thing you've ever said to me. And you've said some ridiculous shit.”

Thorin's chuckled. “Well I guess it's up to you to- Ooooh....” He moaned and his eyes rolled back as Dwalin's mouth wrapped around him, engulfing his sensitive length in soft wet heat. Dwalin worked his mouth over Thorin's cock a few times, his tongue flicking around the rim of the head on the upstroke. He let go with a lewd pop and looked up at the king.

“Is that the only way to shut you up?” Dwalin asked with a cocky grin.
Thorin huffed in amusement. “It would seem so.” He sat up suddenly, catching Dwalin off guard and slammed him to the floor, pinning his wrists to the rug at the sides of his head. “It shut you up too, didn't it?” he remarked, smirking at the dwarf beneath him as he leaned down and kissed him again. He rolled his hips, swallowing the groan from Dwalin's mouth as their lengths rubbed together, the drying saliva on Thorin's cock making the skin stick slightly. The resulting pleasure-pain was almost too much, but somehow still not enough.

Thorin pulled back, gazing down at Dwalin challengingly.
“What now, My King?” the warrior's voice was a bit raspy as he smirked up at Thorin.

“We move to the bed,” Thorin growled, mouth quirked in a seductive grin. He let go of Dwalin, and they quickly stood, eying each other as they each held their ground.

Thorin grabbed Dwalin's shoulders, pulling him in to kiss him again, before shoving him toward the bed. Dwalin responded in kind, grabbing Thorin by the hair and pulling their bodies together as he took the king in a deep kiss and staggered backward until his thighs hit the edge of the bed.

They tumbled to the mattress, Thorin's leg catching between Dwalin's knees as they fell. He slammed bodily into Dwalin's chest, the resulting laughter rumbling against him. He couldn't help but laugh along, and soon they were nearly breathless, cackling freely and unable to stop when the door opened.

“Thorin? Dwalin? I have something I need to discuss with y- oh!” Bilbo froze as he stumbled upon the two. What a sight they made, both lying naked on the bed, Dwalin pinned to the mattress under the king, both grinning ridiculously as the hobbit shut the door behind himself. Bilbo licked his lips and struggled to string together a coherent thought at the sight.

“Is this what you've blown off the council for? To spend the evening goofing off?” Bilbo demanded, his hands settling on his hips.

“We're taking a personal day,” Thorin answered innocently.
“A personal day? Of all the- what am I going to do with you two?”

“Punish us!” Dwalin shouted, causing both dwarves to fall back into fits of laughter.
Bilbo huffed, resigning himself to join in their play as he unbuttoned his jacket and began to undress. He couldn't really find it in himself to be annoyed with them, not when they were whispering to each other and laughing openly as he made his way to the bedside.

Thorin rolled off of Dwalin, who reached out to pull Bilbo into his arms and helped the hobbit onto the bed. Bilbo perched on Dwalin's lap, legs spread over thick thighs as he regarded the dwarf.

Mirth was a good look on Dwalin. Bilbo smiled at the warrior's lopsided grin and turned to Thorin as the king leaned in, still smirking, and took the hobbit in a sloppy playful kiss. He nipped at Bilbo's lips and teased his tongue along Bilbo's and the hobbit couldn't help but be swept up in the lighthearted atmosphere. Rough hands at his sides tickled his hips and he had to pull away from Thorin as he was overcome with giggles.

Thorin's face pulled into a mischievous smile, and Bilbo suddenly began to panic.
“Pin him!” Thorin ordered, and Dwalin quickly flipped over, effectively switching positions with Bilbo. He quirked an eyebrow at the hobbit, tilting his head as he placed his hands back on Bilbo's hips.

“No no no! No, Dwalin. Dwalin! No!” Bilbo attempted to scold the dwarf into submission, but the affect was entirely ruined when Thorin began tickling his feet and he was overcome with laughter. He squirmed and struggled to push Dwalin off as his giggles shook him.

“Dwalin! Please! Make him stop!” Bilbo gasped out between fits.
Dwalin chuckled. “And why should I do that?”
“Because,” Bilbo struggled to regain control of himself long enough to string together a sentence. “If you don't, I WILL punish you!”
“All the more reason not to,” Dwalin said as he arched his brow.
“Please!” Bilbo was struggling to catch his breath. “I'll give you whatever you want! Just make it stop!”

Without hesitation, Dwalin spun around and lunged at Thorin, tackling him to the mattress.

“Oof! I thought we were in this together!” Thorin exclaimed as he struggled against the larger dwarf.
“No, he's on my side now,” Bilbo answered as he crawled over to kneel next to the king.
“And are we on opposing sides in this?” Thorin asked in amusement.
“You attacked when my defenses were down. I believe that is an act of war,” Bilbo responded coolly.

Thorin's eyes blazed at the declaration. “And what are you going to do with me?”

“Taking a king prisoner during a war is no easy feat. We'll have to take full advantage of our good fortune,” Bilbo said smugly as he got up off the bed. The dwarves watched curiously as the hobbit made his way across the room and opened a small box on the dresser.

“What are those?” Dwalin asked curiously as Bilbo pulled out a few lengths of flowy fabric from the box.
Bilbo brought the scarves over to the bed, giving Dwalin a devious look. “Weapons of torture.”

Thorin didn't struggle as his wrists were pinned above him and tied to the headboard. He was overwhelmed with arousal and curiosity at what Bilbo might have planned. His eyes widened and he was taken with excitement as the hobbit fixed the third scarf over his eyes and tied it around his head.

Thorin waited with bated breath, the anticipation nearly making him giddy. He could see nothing, and all he could hear were voices some way off, scheming in hushed whispers. Then there was silence, and Thorin's heart began to hammer as a hand suddenly brushed up his arm.

Whose hand was that? Dwalin, he thought, if the scratch of calloused skin was anything to go by. The caress of smoother fingertips along the side of his neck had him throwing his head to the side, groaning softly as Bilbo covered the offered flesh with open mouth kisses. The rasp of a beard tickled his throat and Bilbo's lips were replaced by Dwalin's. The dwarf pulled Thorin's skin into his mouth, his rough sucking a counterpoint to the gentle caress of Bilbo's tongue on the shell of his ear.

Dwalin and Bilbo pulled away, and Thorin strained to listen to where he might expect their next move. He turned his head quickly as his bottom lip was taken into an eager mouth. He managed to steal a quick kiss as Bilbo pulled away, huffing a chuckle at the frustrated grunt Thorin let slip. A large hand cupped the side of his face and Thorin turned into the touch, letting his lips drag against the rough palm. He moaned as Dwalin suddenly took him in a fierce kiss, the warriors tongue smoothing deliciously against the roof of his mouth. It ended too soon, and Thorin threw his head onto the pillows with a frustrated groan.

The silence was maddening, and Thorin struggled to keep from squirming as he waited for the next touch that might help ground him. He was beginning to wonder if maybe Bilbo and Dwalin had decided to engage in other things while he lay incapacitated, but was jerked out of those thoughts when four hands settle lightly on his skin. There was a hand on each side of his chest, and one on each thigh. The two on his left side were large and rough, and the two on his right side were smaller and soft. Thorin took in a deep breath, the feel of his lovers hands on him bringing him a sense of calm. The calm quickly dissipated, to be replaced by the building heat of arousal as the hands began to move. Bilbo's touch was a soft barely there caress of fingertips, and Dwalin's firmer and more insistent as they moved ever toward his now twitching cock. He gasped as the hands were quickly retracted and the tip of a single finger brushed along the underside of his length.

A tongue ran up the crease of his hip as a bearded mouth sucked and nibbled up the inside of his thigh. Thorin let his legs fall open, encouraging the attention to continue ever upward. He rolled his hips and gasped out a breathy moan as Dwalin's tongue ran up his stones. There was another break of silent nothing, then hot breath tickled over his cock. Thorin's own breaths were uneven and hitched as the anticipation ate at him, every exhale punctuated by a gravely whimper. This was absolute torture. Another sigh of breath and the flick of a tongue at his leaking slit had him openly begging.

“Please. Dwalin. Bilbo. Please,” his voice was breathy, and the act was normally beneath him, but with his hobbit and his warrior, the king was not above begging. The desired effect was achieved, and Thorin's back arched and he let out a grateful moan as his cock was taken up in Dwalin's mouth, eager and pliant and hot around him. His hips jerked up and Dwalin moaned, the vibrations nearly ending him. His movements ceased when a slick finger slid wetly along the cleft of his ass. He held perfectly still as Bilbo's finger traced his entrance, then slowly slid home.

Thorin's gasp urged Bilbo on, and Dwalin let the king's length fall from his mouth as the hobbit slowly pulled his finger out and slicked his hand over his own length.

Thorin froze, his breath catching short in his lungs as the blunt head of Bilbo's cock pressed against his opening.

“Wait! Dwalin, please, take of the blindfold,” Thorin was begging again, but he couldn't bother to care at the moment. He grimaced as the scarf was pulled from his eyes, the sudden onslaught of light making him flinch as it hit him.

“What's wrong, Thorin?” Dwalin's face was full of concern as he furrowed his brow at his king.
“Please, Bilbo,” Thorin's eyes met the hobbit's, his gaze narrowing down to just Bilbo's face.
Dwalin was lost. His eyes darted from Thorin to Bilbo, weighing the sudden change in the tension of a moment before. “Thorin?”

The king's eyes jumped to Dwalin's face. “If Bilbo means to take his pleasure in me, I intend to watch him do it.” He dropped his gaze back to Bilbo, who swallowed under that intense blue stare.

Dwalin still felt as though he were missing something as he sat back on his heels to watch the exchange.

Bilbo and Thorin sat trapped by the others stare. Bilbo finally moved, taking his length up in his hand and pressed against Thorin's hole. His eyes never left Thorin's as he pushed in, agonizingly slow. Bilbo's eyes flickered shut and he let his head fall back a bit as he groaned in absolute bliss.

Thorin was beside himself as he watched the hobbit's face. Bilbo looked absolutely wrecked, lips slightly parted and eyes pinched shut as he gave a few experimental thrusts. His hands tightly grasped the flesh of Thorin's thighs and he let out a loud gasp of pleasure as he rolled his hips a bit harder, thrusting a bit deeper.

Dwalin watched transfixed as Bilbo's hips found a slow and steady rhythm. He reached down to palm his own throbbing erection as he witnessed the delicious scene before him. He growled in excitement as Bilbo's hips picked up their pace and Thorin's back arched as his mouth fell open, gasps and moans falling freely from his lips.

“Dwalin, help him along?” Bilbo's breathy voice did things to Dwalin he would never tire of. The warrior moved quickly, taking his place at Thorin's side and bent down, pulling the king's cock into his mouth.

Thorin's hips rolled and his back arched even more, tight like a drawn bow. Then he let out a deep rumbling roar as he came, Dwalin swallowing around him as his hips jerked and his cock pulsed between Dwalin's lips.

Bilbo was not far behind. He lost his rhythm and his hips jerked sporadically as the heat coiled ever tighter within him, until finally it gave, releasing in a wave of all consuming pleasure as he spent himself inside the dwarf.

Dwalin looked up at the other two as he swallowed again, wiping his mouth with a thick calloused hand. He watched as Bilbo slumped onto Thorin, and he eyed them curiously, his already overwhelming arousal stirred at the sight of them panting and sated against each other.

“You're not finished,” Bilbo rumbled as he rose up and rolled off of Thorin and headed for Dwalin. He reached up, placing his hand firmly on Dwalin's chest and pushed him flat onto his back. He crawled up the dwarf, taking his mouth with his own and kissed him deeply. Then he pulled back and settled himself between Dwalin's legs. He ran a finger over the metal through Dwalin's cock, forever fascinated by the piercings. Then, without another moment's hesitation, he took Dwalin into his mouth, working his tongue along the barbels.

It wasn't long before Dwalin felt himself spiraling toward release, hips pulsing lightly as Bilbo worked him expertly until he was overcome with his orgasm. Head thrown back, eyes pinched shut as he bellowed in completion. Bilbo eased him through his peak, his attentions slowing as Dwalin finally came down.

The hobbit flopped onto his back next to Dwalin, completely content to just lay there until the next morning. For a moment, there was nothing but the sounds of panting breaths slowly returning to normal.

“Bilbo?” Thorin's gravely voice broke the silence, and it suddenly occurred to the hobbit that Thorin was still bound to the headboard. He reluctantly rolled onto his side and half dragged himself to the dwarf's aid. He untied the scarves, and really, it wasn't as though Thorin couldn't have broken through them if he'd wanted to. Though, the thought that Thorin had not wanted to made Bilbo's heart do things his body was not nearly ready to repeat.

Dwalin slid over closer to curl up next to Bilbo as Thorin did the same at his other side.
“So, what was that all about?” Dwalin asked gruffly.
“We've never done that before. Bilbo would never take me,” Thorin answered.
“Why not?” Dwalin leveled the hobbit with a questioning look.

Bilbo grimaced. “Nerves, I suppose.”
“Nerves?” Thorin repeated skeptically.
“Why?” Dwalin demanded.
Bilbo groaned. “I am a hobbit. I am not... made like... you two.”
Thorin's frown deepened, but Dwalin finally seemed to understand.
“You've been worried you won't measure up?” the warrior asked.
“I have been worried I cannot... pleasure a dwarf... that way,” Bilbo answered, his embarrassment plain in his wavering tone.

Thorin rolled over and kissed Bilbo gently on the nose. “That is ridiculous. You brought me great pleasure.”
Bilbo blushed and huffed in indignation. “Yes, well Dwalin made sure of it!”
“It's true enough Dwalin is good, but it's not the same, Bilbo. You are amazing. And I hope you will have me again, with or without Dwalin's mouth,” Thorin answered sincerely.
“Would you consider.....?” the warrior's excited face was nearly humorous as he raised his eyebrows suggestively at the hobbit.
Bilbo sighed in defeat, shooting the warrior an amused glance. “Alright Dwalin.”
Thorin chuckled. “I'm surprised he didn't ask you to punish him.”
Bilbo grinned. “What is it with this “punishing” business?”

Thorin and Dwalin both fell into deep rumbled laugher again.
“There is a bit of a back story there. Dwalin likes being smacked around a bit. He used to beg me to do it when we were younger. Now he's always making jokes about you roughing him up.”

Bilbo gave Dwalin a wry grin, one that made the warrior suddenly stop laughing and his throat go a bit dry.
“Oh really?” He narrowed his eyes and Dwalin swallowed thickly, already aroused by the suggestion in Bilbo's stare.
“I'll keep that in mind,” Bilbo said softly as he nestled back down between his dwarves.

Thorin wrapped an arm around Bilbo, nuzzling the golden curls on his head as he quickly fell asleep. Dwalin snuggled in closer, throwing an arm over them both, but he lay awake for quite a while, fantasizing of what Bilbo might be planning for him.

Chapter Text

Bilbo sat with his elbows on the table, his face resting in his hands as he listened to the yelling around him. How in the name of Yavanna was this his life? They were arguing again, as dwarven council members appeared to always be doing, and Bilbo was developing a serious headache listening to them carry on. His mind continuously drifted back to much more agreeable things he would rather be doing. Things that didn't involve arguing or dwarves trying to out bluster each other. He rubbed at his eyes in agitation and made up his mind. This had to stop. Now.

“Alright you lot, quiet down!” Bilbo's angry voice miraculously rang out over the blustering dwarves around him. “I have had quite enough of this for one day. We will reconvene tomorrow. It is obvious nothing will be agreed upon today.”

The council members disbanded, their voices becoming a buzzing mumble as they slowly made their way out the door, occasionally shouting at one another.

Bilbo massaged his temples, beside himself with relief when the room was finally empty. He sighed deeply, but found it didn't help much. He was feeling the stress and pressure of trying to help keep the kingdom running. No wonder Thorin and Dwalin had sought an evening away the day before.

Bilbo continued fuming as he strode through the hall, intent on reaching the royal chambers before anyone could stop him. How did dwarves get anything done anyway? It seemed politics to them was naught but yelling and shoving each other into submission. Ridiculous rude confounded irrational-
“Posturing pig headed prancing princling sprite!” Dwalin's voice thundered from around the corner.

Bilbo's feet automatically picked up pace in his haste to see who the damn warrior was pissing off now. He stopped short as he caught a glimpse of King Thranduil, standing mere feet before the dwarf, attempting to tower over him. Dwalin's blustering angry face showed no sign of fear or even concern as he raised a threatening finger at the elf.
“You're lucky we don't bother cutting off your pretty head and mounting it on our wall!”

Bilbo's eyes widened as his jaw dropped at the horrendous statement. Now this had gone far enough. The hobbit marched over to the pair arguing in the corridor. He stepped in front of Dwalin and addressed the elven king.
“King Thranduil, I don't know what is going on here, but please, you must excuse Dwalin, he is a fair bit more excitable than usual today it would seem. I hope he hasn't caused too much offense and you will still consider treating with Erebor.” He shot Dwalin a venomous look. “No matter how unwelcoming some of the inhabitants may be.”
He turned back to Thranduil, giving him a reassuring smile, which the elf returned with bow of his head.

“I will consider it, Master Baggins. I hope that one is reprimanded for speaking so to his betters,” Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Dwalin, who made to jump around Bilbo to get at the elf. “Why you-”

Bilbo spun around before Dwalin could finish his sentence, grabbing the warrior by the beard and dragging him along down the hall. He did not slow until they were a good distance from where they had left an amused Thranduil standing outside the Great Hall.

Bilbo rounded a corner and opened the nearest door, a storage closet by the looks of it, and shoved Dwalin through it, slamming the door shut behind them.

“What in the name of Mahal were you doing? Trying to lose us our only viable allies?!” Bilbo demanded.
“He suggested Thorin fucks rats! And that YOU are a rat!”
Bilbo rubbed at his eyes in agitation.
“And you, Bilbo, are no rat! And Thorin is no rat fucker! Nor am I, which was unknowingly implied. What was I supposed to do?”

“Smile in his face and call him worse behind his back! Thranduil may be a horrid selfish prick, but we need him on our side, Dwalin! You can't go chasing him off in defense of my honor, or Thorin's! There is too much at stake here!”

Dwalin's voice lowered as he gave Bilbo an earnest look. “I'll tear down every monarch from here to Mordor if they insist on speaking ill of my hobbit and my King.”

Bilbo's eyes softened and he gave Dwalin a fond smile. “You would, wouldn't you.” He took a few steps closer, until he could wrap his arms around Dwalin's middle.
“Aye. I would,” came the response as Dwalin's hands stroked Bilbo's back and he buried his face in soft honeyed curls.

Balin stood in the hall, staring at the door in confusion. He was sure he had seen Bilbo drag Dwalin into the storage room. But that was nonsense, why would Bilbo be dragging his brother anywhere? Balin moved back around a corner as he heard footsteps approach. He watched as the king began to walk past, then stopped, turning his ear toward the door.

Oh, this was it. Something big was about to happen, and Balin felt helpless to do anything to stop it as Thorin pulled the closet door open and slipped inside. Well honestly, Dwalin deserved whatever was coming if he insisted on kissing kings against walls and following hobbits into broom cupboards. Balin decided he had better stick around, lest things get out of hand, but he wouldn't interfere unless they did. He took up watch outside the closet, letting the three sort things out themselves.

“Walk me through it, I have no idea what I'm doing,” Bilbo said to Thorin in a hushed tone, his voice full of uncertainty.
“Don't try to over think it, just give him a push,” Thorin's voice was calm and reassuring as he guided Bilbo. “Put your hands on his shoulders and shove him into the wall.”

“This is absurd!” Bilbo turned from Thorin to Dwalin, an incredulous look on his face. “You are so much larger than me, how is it I should be able to move your mass at all?” Bilbo asked in a frantic whisper.

“Please, Bilbo, just try,” Dwalin pleaded. Bilbo huffed, but placed his hands on Dwalin's shoulders, clenching and unclenching his fingers as he weighed how much force he should really use to move the dwarf. Considering he was probably not going to fight it, it shouldn't take much.

Bilbo closed his eyes and set his jaw, determined to do this for Dwalin. His eyes shot open and he set a hard gaze on the dwarf's face, one that had the warrior's lips curling in a devious grin and set a sparkle to his eyes. Bilbo shoved him, with a bit more force than intended, sending the dwarf stumbling slightly until he crashed bodily into the wall. His eyes darkened as Bilbo descended on him, grabbing him roughly by the front of his tunic and pulled him into a fierce and demanding kiss.

Thorin grinned as he made his way toward the two, intent on making sure this went smoothly. He leaned in so he could whisper right in to Bilbo's ear.
“Grab his hair. At the nape of his neck.”
Bilbo did as instructed, winding his fingers into the dark strands as Thorin whispered to him. The hobbit yanked Dwalin's head back and latched his teeth onto the exposed flesh of the dwarf's neck. Dwalin whimpered lightly, letting his hands roam over Bilbo's back as Thorin gave Bilbo more instructions.

Bilbo pulled away a bit, letting go of Dwalin's hair in exchange for the front of his tunic again. He dragged the dwarf away from the wall and shoved him as hard as he could. Dwalin stumbled, then fell onto his back on the floor, obviously enjoying the rough handling. Bilbo was on him in an instant, straddling his waist and taking his mouth in a way that had him clinging to the hobbit like a dying man.

Thorin sat on the floor and palmed himself as he let the other two find their comfort levels and explore each other. He unlaced his trousers and freed himself, taking his cock in hand as he watched Bilbo grind blindly into Dwalin, gasps and little groans tumbling from them both.

Balin was growing concerned. He was sure he had heard a crash, but nobody was yelling, and he was certain he would know if there were punches being thrown. He puzzled a bit, leaning in and trying to hear what might be going on on the other side of the door, but to no avail. He wrung his hands and paced a few times, then decided perhaps he'd give it a few more minutes before he let himself get too terribly worked up. After all, Thorin would never hurt Dwalin, he was sure of it. Well, mostly sure.

Dwalin laid his head back against the floor, looking up at Bilbo with lust filled eyes. “Take me. Please Bilbo,” Dwalin's voice was soft and thick, and it took everything in Bilbo not to continue grinding into Dwalin until he came right there in his pants. He pinched his eyes shut, forcing his hips to still and he climbed off the big dwarf.
“Turn over,” he demanded breathily, and Dwalin was quick to comply.

Bilbo guided the dwarf up onto his knees and reached around, slowly untying Dwalin's laces, and pulled the dwarf's trousers off. He ran his hands over the meaty flesh of the warriors thighs and ass, admiring the view as Dwalin squirmed.

Time was wasting, as Bilbo realized, and so he hurried to take off his own pants, then he looked to Thorin. “Is there anything in here to ease the way?”
Thorin smirked. “Spit.”

Bilbo frowned as the king crawled the short distance to Bilbo's side. He ducked his head and took Bilbo's cock into his mouth, and the hobbit let out a surprised squeak as Thorin left as much saliva on his length as he could. He pulled off and Bilbo gasped to catch his breath, giving Thorin a half lidded gaze.

“You should warn someone before you do that,” Bilbo scolded.
“I did. You just didn't get the hint,” Thorin grinned as he took to fingers into his mouth, then he pulled them out and massaged them slowly around Dwalin's opening. The warrior flinched and Bilbo's mouth was suddenly dry as Thorin pulled away, kneeling as he situated himself so he could watch all that was happening.

Bilbo pressed his length against the tight opening, running it in circles as he attempted to spread the moisture. He repeated Thorin's earlier actions and pulled two fingers into his mouth and used them to re-wet his cock. Then he finally let the tip slip inside. He paused, assuring himself that he wasn't hurting Dwalin, but the impatient shifting of hips encouraged him to continue. He pushed in further, relished the tight heat around him as Dwalin pushed back against him, begging for more.

Finally, Bilbo took the hint and slammed forward, his hips crashing into Dwalin, who let out a deep moan as he was finally filled with Bilbo's length. He arched and gasped as Bilbo found a steady rhythm and his hips snapped hard into Dwalin's backside.

Balin stood frowning at the closet door, now not so sure he wanted to know what was going on behind it. He had heard Dwalin moan, and couldn't be convinced it was necessarily from pain. He was beginning to doubt his theories when he heard the crack of a hand on flesh.

“Hit him again!” came Thorin's voice. The king sounded frantic, as though he were on the verge of something dangerous. The second crack had Balin reaching for the door handle, but he stopped as his fingers found the handle.

“Thorin, fuck my face!” his brother's voice sounded broken, and Balin was now absolutely certain he did not want to open that door. He jumped back as though burned, his hand flying to his chest as he stared wide eyed at the door handle, as though it had just done him great insult. He stood frozen in shock, until he heard the undeniable sound of Thorin and Bilbo moaning in unison, obviously hitting the height of orgasm.

Durin's beard. Balin turned quickly on his heel, determined to put as much distance between he and those three as possible. He spun as he heard the door open, a satisfied Bilbo stumbling out with his hair ruffled and a smile on his face. Dwalin followed, throwing an arm around him and Thorin emerged right behind, taking up Dwalin's other side. Dwalin turned and gave Bilbo a lingering kiss, then turned to give Thorin the same.

Bilbo froze and his eyes widened as he noticed Balin in the shadows, the old dwarf smirking with a twinkle in his knowing eye.

“Evening, brother!” Balin announced himself, and Dwalin and Thorin jumped at the sudden interruption. They froze in the gaze of the old dwarf, at a loss of what exactly to say that might excuse their behavior.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Balin finally took pity on the trio.
“It seems to me,” he began, “we have much to discuss,” he raised an eyebrow at his brother, then he turned and started down a corridor, obviously wanting the others to follow.

Bilbo, Dwalin, and Thorin exchanged glances, glad to have each other in this moment, as Balin could be intimidating. He had always been a gentle dwarf when Thorin and Dwalin had been younger, not one to yell or bluster or hit. But a firm scolding from Balin was worse than a lashing in their opinion. They all followed reluctantly, holding hands as the walked in an attempt to borrow and lend each other courage. They followed Balin to an empty meeting chamber, where Balin seated himself in the king's chair.

“Alright. I'm listening,” Balin said softly. Dwalin looked to his hobbit and king. Two pairs of reassuring eyes gazed back. Two hands took up his own, and his two loves smiled at him in support as he turned back to face his brother.