Bilbo sighed contentedly as he glanced around the emptying banquet hall. The celebratory feast had been quite the experience, the euphoric atmosphere most welcome after the obstacles they had all overcome. If he'd thought thirteen dwarves were difficult to handle, it was nothing on a whole host of them, but Bilbo couldn't find it himself to complain. At least it wasn't his larder that was feeding them this time.
He watched as Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli bid Lord Dain goodnight, before his eyes flicked over the rest of the company spread out across the table, all of them lingering behind while Dain's dwarves headed to their rooms. Not for the first time, Bilbo was hit with an overwhelming surge of gratefulness that they had all survived this fateful journey. Several of his friends had been gravely wounded in the battle, but all of them had made it out alive — a truly miraculous feat.
His eyes were once again drawn to Thorin. He cut an even more impressive figure than usual in his royal finery, but Bilbo couldn’t help but scan his left side where Azog's blade had nearly skewered him.Thorin had managed to deflect the blade just in time, escaping with a gash on his side where the blade had slipped and pierced the ice. The wound had been a nasty one, but compared to what could have been…Bilbo shuddered, heart clenching painfully as he pictured that scenario. He shook his head, determined not to get bogged down by such maudlin thoughts when he should be celebrating.
Bilbo stood. The hour was late and though he wasn’t tired, he knew that he’d regret not getting a full night's sleep. After all, tomorrow he would need to start planning his return to the Shire with Gandalf. And what a strange thought that was. The quest was over, Erebor won, the rightful King returned to his throne, and Bilbo, well, he had fulfilled his contract. There was no more need for him here, and though he knew the company would be glad to host him for as long as he wished, he longed for home. He missed the Shire terribly, the simple, comforting beauty of it called to him, but he'd realised that what he missed most of all was the sense of belonging. If he’d learned anything on this journey, it was the importance of having somewhere to belong.
Straightening his vest, he walked over to the cluster of dwarves finishing off the rest of the ale. Unsurprisingly, most of his company had made their way over to the barrels, and Bilbo felt awash in contentment as he watched them enjoy their hard earned victory.
"Um, sorry to interrupt, but I'm afraid I'm not quite sure of the way back to my rooms."
The dwarves turned to greet him with a cheer, and after much back slapping and gruff hugs, Thorin stepped forward, smiling warmly. "Allow me to escort you, Master Baggins."
Bilbo refused to blush at the muffled "I'm sure escorting is all he'll be doing'' from Dwalin as his heart began racing at the sight of Thorin's face so unguarded in happiness.
The muted sounds of the company's fresh round of laughter followed them down the corridor, and Bilbo frowned, hit with the uncomfortable feeling that the laughter was at his expense. The dwarves were just a merry lot, he reminded himself. He pointedly did not think about the similarities between now and when Thorin had presented him with the mithril shirt. How the dwarves had gone oddly silent as Thorin gifted him the precious armour, his eyes burning intently into Bilbo’s. How the good-natured chuckling had started up in the background soon after, and Bilbo couldn’t help but feel that he was missing something, that there was significance in this gift, some meaning beyond simple protection. But things had gone rather pear-shaped after that, and Bilbo hadn’t worked up the courage to ask about the moment, unsure if he was just imagining things, or if the gleam in Thorin’s eyes was just the gold-sickness shining through.
Bilbo looked up and realized that they had stopped while he’d been reminiscing and that Thorin was staring at him expectantly.
"Sorry, got lost in my thoughts. Did you say something?"
"I asked if you were tired," Thorn replied, voice tinged with amusement.
"No, I'm feeling rather awake, actually."
Thorin stared at Bilbo, and Bilbo held his gaze, raising his eyebrows slightly when the silence continued a beat too long. Thorin cleared his throat. "Would you like to see what the Royal Chambers look like? I know you haven't seen all that much of Erebor yet, and I asked for some mead to be brought up earlier, if you'd like a drink."
Bilbo's eyes widened in surprise at the offer. In the Shire, every hobbit knew what it meant when you invited somebody back to your house for a nightcap, but that didn't mean that dwarves were the same way. Thorin was his friend and was proud of his reclaimed home, it was only natural that he would want to show it off, it didn't have to mean anything more than that.
"Of course! I never turn down a free drink!" Bilbo answered happily, breath catching at Thorin's small, pleased smile as he steered them down an adjacent stairway.
Thorin led them down several more passages until finally they came upon a large doorway, bordered with delicate carvings, inlaid with sparkling gemstones.
"I take it this is our stop?"
"It is." Thorin pushed open the heavy looking door effortlessly, leading them into a large sitting room. Bilbo wasn't sure what he was expecting, but everything was certainly much cleaner than he would have imagined. His own quarters had required a fair amount of dusting to get them habitable, but this room was practically spotless. Perks of being the King, Bilbo thought as he took in the room. The chairs were slightly faded, but of obvious quality, and somebody must have bought up some pieces from the hoard, because the room was richly decorated with beautiful items made of gold and sparkling stones. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, casting a cheerful light, and Bilbo could see the glow of a fire coming from a room down one of the corridors, likely Thorin's bed chambers.
Thorin walked over to a nearby table with the jug of mead and poured out two mugs, bringing one over to Bilbo and taking the other for himself. Bilbo took a drink, savoring the smooth glide of the honeyed spices over his tongue, eyes drawn to the line of Thorin's throat as he drank deeply from his own cup.
"So, Master Burglar, what do you plan on doing with yourself, now that the quest is over?" Thorin asked. He sounded genuinely curious, and thankfully not at all like he was itching for Bilbo to get out of his mountain.
"Well I suppose I'll be heading back to the Shire with Gandalf soon." The thought filled him with a mixture of longing and reluctance, and all he had to do is look up into the frowning face of Thorin Oakenshield to understand the source of that reluctance. He brought up his mug, glancing away from Thorin as he finished it off.
"There is something to be said for returning home," Thorin murmured, though his tone seemed to suggest otherwise. He moved closer to Bilbo, standing just inches away and looking at him so intently, Bilbo wondered if Thorin could see the flutter of his pulse, the way his breathing sped up the closer Thorin got.
"I suppose you'd know that better than anyone," Bilbo responded, voice low as he looked up at Thorin's impossibly noble face. "But you’ve returned. You've got everything you've ever wanted."
Thorin's eyes darkened. "Not everything," he corrected, before cupping Bilbo's face in his large, rough hands and kissing Bilbo softly.
"What was that?" Bilbo whispered when Thorin pulled back, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on Bilbo's cheeks.
"That was a kiss, Master Baggins, and something I've wanted to do for a very long time."
"Oh," Bilbo said. "You should do it again."
Thorin smiled, a full, genuine smile that made Bilbo's chest twinge. "As you wish."
This kiss was less gentle. Thorin's hands slid through Bilbo's hair, fingers wrapping around his loose curls. Bilbo moaned at the pleasurable sensation and Thorin pressed his advantage, his tongue sliding silkily into Bilbo’s mouth. His hands were trapped between their bodies, palms pressed against Thorin's firm chest, and he slowly slid them downwards, delighting in Thorin's shiver as they rubbed unhurriedly down his stomach.
Bilbo's hands curled into the fabric of Thorin's shirt as he kissed back fiercely, unwilling to completely cede control over to Thorin, wanting to prove that he wanted this just as desperately. Thorin broke off with a ragged gasp, pressing his forehead against Bilbo as his hot breath mingled with Bilbo's.
"Stay with me tonight."
Bilbo nodded shakily, not even needing a moment to think through the offer. "Alright." He wasn't foolish enough to think that he could keep Thorin, but he would not let the chance to have him slip away, even if it was only for one night.
Thorin's smile was blinding, and Bilbo was shocked into stillness at the warmth unfurling in his stomach at being the focus of such a look. He took Thorin's offered hand and followed him to the bedroom, marvelling at the sheer size of Thorin's fingers against his own. Wondering what they would feel like on him, in him, arousal surging as he wondered if he was bigger everywhere.
The royal bedchamber was large and likely just as ornate as the rest of the quarters, but all Bilbo could see was the massive bed in the center of the room. The frame was made of intricately carved stone and the coverlet was a deep, royal blue, the color rich and vivid in the flickering light from the hearth.
Thorin drew Bilbo eagerly towards the bed, pulling him in close and kissing him soundly once more. Bilbo wound his fingers through Thorin's thick hair, completely absorbed in the feeling of Thorin's plush lips against his own, the rough drag of his beard against Bilbo's smooth cheeks. He was so lost in sensation that he didn't register the deft movements of Thorin's fingers until he felt the shock of cold air against his bare stomach followed quickly by warm palms sliding up his chest, coaxing his shirt and vest off his shoulders.
"Beautiful," Thorin breathed as he trailed a line of kisses down Bilbo's neck. Thorin's hands skated down Bilbo's sides, the fluttering touch making his stomach jump. A warm, wet tongue trailed down, licking circles around his left nipple and Bilbo bit his lip on a moan. He stared up at the ceiling, focusing on reigning in his arousal before looking back down at Thorin, gasping aloud at the sight of Thorin on his knees before him, his fingers plucking at the laces of Bilbo’s trousers.
"Thorin, what are you doing. You can't just — " Bilbo gestured helplessly, "on the floor like that," Bilbo said. Thorin was king under the mountain, out of the two of them, if anybody should be kneeling, it was Bilbo.
"I'm a king, Bilbo."
"Exactly. Which is why — "
"Which means, I will kneel to whomever I choose.” His voice dropped even lower. "I cannot think of anyone worthier."
Bilbo released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and Thorin continued undoing his trousers, pulling everything off until he was completely bare. He knew the air in the room was cool but his body felt flushed and heated under the intensity of Thorin's gaze.
"You really are extraordinary," Thorin said roughly as his hands circled Bilbo's bare ankles and began their torturously slow ascent, skimming over his calves and knees and the inside of his thighs. Bilbo felt faint, his cock painfully hard and bobbing right in front of Thorin's face as Thorin persisted in swirling his fingers in maddening swirls in the crease of his groin instead of touching him.
"You only had to ask, Bilbo."
And then Thorin was gripping Bilbo's erection, stroking it quickly before engulfing him in his warm, wet mouth. Bilbo whimpered and he gripped a bed post in an attempt to steady his legs, trying desperately not to collapse from the overwhelming pleasure. Thorin's dark head bobbed rhythmically as he sucked, lips a shiny, deep red where they stretched around Bilbo's length. Bilbo had to close his eyes, knowing that the sinful image of Thorin swallowing him down combined with the blissful sensation of his mouth would send him over the edge entirely too soon.
"W — Wait," Bilbo gasped. "I'm going to come."
Thorin pulled off his cock with a slick sound, and Bilbo finally opened his eyes, looking down at his amused face. "That is rather the point."
"I don't want to come until you're inside of me," Bilbo said, refusing to blush as he stared boldly at Thorin. Thorin's eyes darkened and he lunged upwards, kissing Bilbo fiercely in what Bilbo could only assume was enthusiastic agreement.
"But first," Bilbo muttered, pulling fruitlessly at Thorin's complicated dress garb, "I think you should take care of these. You're making me feel a little underdressed."
Thorin huffed in amusement, before stepping back, keeping his eyes locked on Bilbo's as he began to disrobe. Bilbo collapsed back onto the bed, scrambling to the center of the large mattress as he stared. Thorin was even more gorgeous out of his clothes than he was in them, and not even the raw, puckered skin of Azog's wound could detract from it. Bilbo swallowed thickly as he took in his broad shoulders, those strong arms, and his hairy, muscular chest, tapering slightly downwards and leading to what was a very large, very hard cock.
"Do you like what you see, burglar?"
"I'd like it a lot better if I could get a closer look."
"Then perhaps I'd better join you," Thorin teased as he climbed onto the bed.
Thorin kneeled between Bilbo's spread thighs, dropping a small vial of oil onto the bed as he placed his arms on either side of Bilbo's head and leaned down to brush his lips against Bilbo's.
Bilbo's hands skated down Thorin's chest, pausing when they reached the angry red scar on Thorin's side.
"Does it hurt?" Bilbo whispered, suddenly worried that the strenuous activities he was hoping for would be too much for Thorin's recovering body.
"Not much." Thorin looked down, and he must've noticed the apprehension in Bilbo's gaze because he soon continued. "It'll take more than a little scrape to stop me from this." Thorin picked up the vial of oil, coating his fingers in the slick substance, before raking his hungry gaze over Bilbo.
Bilbo spread his legs wider, planting his feet on the bed and tilting his hips slightly in silent invitation. Thorin groaned in response, ghosting slick fingers over Bilbo's perineum and circling his hole before slipping one inside, and Bilbo couldn't stop his gasp as he clenched down instinctively on the thick digit. It had been so long since he'd had anything other than his own fingers up there, and Thorin's were much larger — much better. He relaxed into it, relishing the feel of Thorin's slowly pumping finger inside of him. He felt desirable, the power of having Thorin's undivided attention a heady sensation.
"More," Bilbo gasped and Thorin quickly complied, slipping a second finger inside. He already felt so full and he wasn't even taking Thorin's cock yet. Bilbo moaned at the thought and rocked down against Thorin's hand, desperate to move the proceedings along.
"I'm ready. You can take me now."
"So eager, little hobbit," Thorin chuckled. "But you are not yet ready for me." Another slick finger circled the stretched rim of Bilbo's entrance and pushed in alongside the others. The three fingers burned, but not unpleasantly, and Bilbo let out an embarrassing mewl as Thorin rotated his wrist, bringing the pads of his fingers into brushing contact with his prostate.
"I will not hurt you, not again," Thorin promised, kissing Bilbo's knee and looking into Bilbo's eyes, his face radiating sincerity as he worked his fingers into Bilbo's hole. "You must relax for me, so that when I take you, there is no pain." Thorin curled his fingers and Bilbo arched his back as want zinged through him. "Only pleasure."
"Please, Thorin, please. I'm ready. I'm so stretched for you, can't you feel it? Want you," Bilbo whined.
Thorin growled and his fingers slipped free, only to be replaced a moment later by the blunt pressure of his cock, slippery head sliding along Bilbo's crack teasingly before pushing lightly against Bilbo's hole.
"Are you ready for me?"
"Yes. I don't know how I can be any clearer," Bilbo snapped.
Thorin merely smiled and gripped his cock firmly, finally rocking slowly inside. Bilbo's hands fisted in the sheets at his side, his mouth dropped open as he panted through the intrusion, eyes completely blown as Thorin stretched him wide. All the preparation in the world couldn't have prepared him for this, for the feeling of Thorin pressing inside of him, the sharp sting as the fat head finally breached him. Bilbo could swear that he felt every vein and ridge on Thorin's cock as it pushed past his rim, and he had never felt so full and whole as he did right then, as Thorin's hips pressed firmly against his own, the entire length of Thorin buried deep within him.
"Are you alright?" Thorin asked, peering intently at Bilbo's face.
"Yes. Yes, I'm bloody amazing. Just give me a moment." He took several deep breaths, unclenching his hands and taking in the breathtaking sight of Thorin above him, naked and flushed, his eyes filled with desire and want and something sweeter Bilbo was afraid to name. Bilbo clenched down on the length inside him and grinned at the flicker of pleasure that crossed Thorin's face.
"Come down here and kiss me," Bilbo demanded.
Thorin placed his hands on either side of Bilbo's head as he leaned down to do just that, the movement pressing him impossibly deep inside and causing Bilbo to gasp into Thorin's mouth as they kissed. Bilbo wrapped his legs around Thorin's waist, carefully keeping them below his injury, inching his palms up the length of Thorin's strong arms, sliding them around his shoulders and down the muscles of his back.
"I'd like you to move now," Bilbo breathed against Thorin's lips.
"I can do that," Thorin replied as he slowly shifted his hips, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in, slow and deep. He maintained a steady, sensual rhythm, grinding his cock into Bilbo before pulling out languidly and plunging back in. The motions punched raw, gasping moans from Bilbo, and his hands gripped hard at the skin of Thorin's back, his hips, his arse.
Thorin's face was slightly flushed from arousal and exertion, and his hair tickled Bilbo's face as they moved, hanging like a curtain around the two of them, blocking out the rest of the world. His eyes never left Bilbo's, his expression so open, so loving, that it would have stolen Bilbo's breath if it wasn't already being fucked out of him. How someone like Thorin, a king who'd lost so much, who'd been hardened by fire and death and war, could look so unguarded, was nothing short of astonishing.
Carefully, Thorin lowered himself onto his elbows, bringing his torso down on top of Bilbo's. He angled his hips slightly and Bilbo swore aloud as it brought Thorin's cock in glancing contact with his prostate. Thorin grinned and picked up the pace.
Bilbo had never felt like this before, never felt this earth-shattering pleasure with any of his other lovers. It was like every nerve ending in his body was alight with sensation, the drag of silken sheets against his back, the slick warmth of Thorin's muscles beneath his hands, the whisper of cool air against his overheated skin. The myriad of sensations combined with the hard cock in his arse and Thorin's firm stomach dragging friction against Bilbo's erection, had Bilbo feeling so overloaded with pleasure he thought he might actually scream. He could feel his orgasm building, heat gathering in his groin, heart thrumming as he raced towards climax.
"Are you close, Ghivashel?"
"Oh, yes. So close. I'm so close, Thorin, please," Bilbo babbled before reaching up to capture Thorin in a kiss, sucking at his bottom lip as he dragged his fingers up to tangle in Thorin's hair.
Bilbo came with a cry, the sound swallowed up by their kissing and his cock spurting messily between them, smearing come against their stomachs as Thorin continued his thrusts, fucking Bilbo through the most intense orgasm of his life. Moments later, Thorin followed, hips stilling as he held himself deep inside Bilbo, shuddering wildly as he found his release with a guttural Mahal.
Bilbo was surprised to realize that he was shaking, his body crashing from the adrenaline high and the flood of endorphins in his system. Thorin was holding himself still above him, breathing deeply as he recovered, fingers tracing Bilbo's face reverently. Cautiously, Bilbo unhooked his legs from Thorin's back, wincing slightly at the ache in his muscles, and braced himself as Thorin pulled slowly out. The feeling of emptiness was expected but disconcerting as he clenched down on air.
His brow furrowed as Thorin climbed off the bed and disappeared out the door, but Bilbo smiled tiredly when he appeared a moment later with a warm, wet cloth to wipe themselves down with.
Thorin tossed the dirty rag aside, and climbed back into the bed, laying back against the pillows and pulling Bilbo into his arms. Bilbo let himself be manipulated like a ragdoll, too orgasm-lazy to put up an argument, and secretly relishing the display of Thorin's strength.
"That was…" Bilbo trailed off. "Different than I had imagined."
Thorin looked down at him, brow furrowed. "In what way?"
"Oh, in a good way," Bilbo hastened to reassure him. "That was amazing, I didn't know sex could be that good. But you were…gentler than I'd thought you'd be."
"Did you think I'd be some kind of brute?"
"No. Just. During our journey, late at night, I would fantasize about…you, about us. It was always rushed and rough and urgent, squeezed in-between running from orcs and wargs and elves and men. You pressing me into the ground, fucking me hard on all fours, before running off to continue our journey. I — " Bilbo bit his lip, "I never really thought about it beyond the moment, never let myself imagine what it might be like if we survived."
"So you thought about me," Thorin stated, smirking down at Bilbo.
"Is that all you got from that?"
"No. I also heard that you imagined me fucking you--mounting you--hard. Pinning you down so that you have no choice but to take it." Thorin nuzzled his face into Bilbo's curls, warm breath washing over his sensitive ear and Bilbo shivered from the sensation, and from the dirty thoughts Thorin was putting voice to. "Thought about me rutting into you desperately, pulling you back onto my cock until we both screamed our release. Hmm…Perhaps we can do that next time."
"Next time?" Bilbo squeaked. Once again, he hadn't been thinking beyond the moment, beyond his desperate desire for Thorin that he knew went far beyond simple lust. He was in love with Thorin--had been for some time now--but he'd never imagined anything could come of it. He'd suspected that maybe Thorin's feelings weren't completely platonic, there had been too many looks loaded with emotion far beyond the pale of friendship, but Thorin was a King. A King and a dwarf with a duty to his people, and Bilbo couldn't imagine they would be accepting of a hobbit consort.
Thorin turned to face him, his brow furrowed. "If you want to leave, go back to your Shire and your books and your armchair, plant your trees and think of this night fondly…I will not stop you. But — " He broke off, taking a deep breath as if to fortify himself. "I know halls made of stone are no place for a hobbit, but Erebor has much to offer. There is great beauty here both below and above ground. And if you wish to stay…there are gardens here for your acorn to flourish."
Bilbo couldn't move, shocked still by Thorin's words and the sincerity that shown through them. He'd been so sure that staying was an impossibility that he'd never allowed himself to even consider it. But now…
"And what do you wish?" Bilbo asked, quietly.
"I would have you stay. With me. I can think of no one I'd rather have by my side to help me rebuild Erebor to its former glory." Thorin kissed Bilbo softly, such a gentle gesture, but Bilbo could feel it reverberate down through his toes. "You do not need to decide now. I only wished you to know that there is a place for you here if you want it."
Thorin kissed Bilbo once more before settling back down, drawing Bilbo firmly against his chest, and closing his eyes. He seemed to fall asleep quickly, his chest moving evenly beneath Bilbo's cheek as Bilbo's thoughts whirled.
Bilbo couldn't deny that he missed the Shire. The rolling green hills, the abundant homegrown food, the friendly gatherings; it was home. But that was it, wasn't it; it was home. Because Bilbo was not the same hobbit that left the Shire all those months ago, and he'd known for some time now that things would be very different for him when he returned. He wasn't sure he could go back to his quiet life of comfort and he wasn't sure he wanted too. Especially if choosing a life of adventure meant he got to keep Thorin.
He let the thoughts wash over him as he drifted off, lulled to sleep by the soothing cadence of Thorin's heartbeat beneath his ear.
Tomorrow he'd ask Thorin to help him find a place to plant his acorn.