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Bofur’s back hits the inside of his bedroom door hard the moment it slams shut, and almost immediately Nori’s lips are back on his.  He tastes of strong dwarven ale- smells of it too, along with the dirt and sweat of lengthy travel.  Leave it to Nori to slip back into the mountain in the middle of the Durin’s Day feast, startle Bofur half-witless, and then manage to catch up soundly with the rest of the company’s merriment despite their nearly three hour head start.  Bofur is miles from sober himself, drunk as much on elation at having Nori back safe as too much ale, and he’s quickly finding himself glad of the solid door against his back to lean against.  Nori is pressed close against him, hot and solid and alive, and every attempt he makes at speaking is cut off by clumsy, almost feverish kisses.

“Nori-” he tries again, but it turns in to a hiss as Nori nips at his bottom lip.

“Should I stop?” Nori murmurs against the stinging skin, sharp tongue dulled by alcohol and arousal but still sounding concerned.

“No, no, ‘course not-“  The last thing he wants is for Nori to stop, he’s just caught off-guard and a little confused.  He feels Nori’s mouth trail lower and his head tilts back automatically, making room for him to bite down over the tense muscles of his neck and suck pale bruises into the tender skin there.  He is rough and rushed, and when he drops too-heavily to his knees and begins to undo Bofur’s belt, Bofur grabs his hands to still them.  "Nori.”   His voice is already low and hoarse, and for a moment he struggles to get the air in to speak.  "What’s goin’ on?  What is this?“

"Just feelin’ generous tonight, ’s all,” Nori mumbles, and then Bofur figures it out- if this is as close as he’s going to get to an “I missed you,” then he’ll take it.

He doesn’t realize how drunk Nori really is until the thief fumbles more than once trying to get the front of his pants open.  The failed attempts, however, serve as teasing- clumsy fingers brush lightly against his growing arousal through the coarse fabric and he sucks in a hitched breath.  After a frustrated little growl, Nori finally manages to free his mostly hard cock, exhaling a gust of warm air over it that makes Bofur shiver.  In this state, he expects Nori to go straight to work, but instead he feels a rough, calloused palm rub over the head of his prick and has to clench his jaw to keep in a shocked moan.  Nori does it again, slow and deliberate, and Bofur flushes to the tips of his ears and down his neck when he realizes that he is being stared at with something like fascination.  There is a glistening streak of wetness across Nori’s palm now, and his intent focus on Bofur’s cock would be embarrassing if it were not so intensely arousing.

It seems that Nori has decided he’s teased enough; without breaking eye contact, he leans forward and takes the head of Bofur’s cock into his mouth.  One of his hands has snuck its way under his tunic to press, firm and warm, against the curve of Bofur’s stomach, while the other one is wrapped loosely around his base to hold him in place as he engulfs him deeper.  Bofur’s head lolls back, thumping lightly against the door, and he feels his hands reflexively dig into Nori’s hair and grip tightly.  There is a sort of silly thrill to messing up that elaborate hairstyle, and he lets himself enjoy it as Nori pulls back again to flick his tongue lightly over the slit before sinking back down.

He has less finesse than he usually does thanks to the drink, but he’s bolder and more enthusiastic in exchange, and more than anything Bofur finds himself surprised at how good Nori is at this.  He does it far less often than Bofur- perhaps surprisingly, he is not a selfish lover, but he favors his hands to his mouth and seems to have a distaste for being on his knees.  If Bofur could speak coherently he might admit that he had forgotten this- and missed it- but as it is, he can’t do much more than cling to Nori’s hair and whimper as he sinks all the way into that wonderfully hot mouth.

“O-oh, I…ahhh….” Bofur is a not a dwarf who is greatly inclined to deep thinking, but now he is rapidly losing any capacity for coherence at all.   Everything is hot and his clothes feel too tight, but the sensation of sweat dripping down his back beneath them makes him shiver instead of cringe.  Despite his best efforts to stay still, he finds himself canting his hips forward in jerky little thrusts into Nori’s willing mouth, and feels rather than hears Nori’s deep moan of approval around his cock.  The vibration makes his knees go weak, a ragged string of curses falling from his lips and only the solid door against his back keeping him upright.  He hears Nori make a faint choking sound- that’s the drink too, probably- but he doesn’t let up even a little, instead reaching those deft sneaky fingers down to give a gentle squeeze to his partner’s stones.  A moment later everything goes white and Bofur comes with a hoarse wail, clutching fistfuls of Nori’s hair like a lifeline.

When he comes back down, his whole body is trembling, fingers stiff and tingling as he finally loosens his grip on Nori’s ruined hair.  Nori’s cheek is resting agains his stomach in a way that is oddly subdued and tender as he tries to catch his breath as well.  Bofur is hit by a sudden rush of affection for him, this stubborn, secretive dwarf who says little enough of his own feelings but manages to convey them all the same.  He makes a move to stroke Nori’s hair in appreciation, but his wobbly knees finally get the better of him, and he instead slides down the door to land heavily on the cold floor.

“Bless me,” he breathes, laughing faintly.  "Tha’ was unexpected.“  More giggles bubble up unbidden, until he’s laughing himself nearly to tears (he’s used to it- after a rush of pleasure he can’t help it- but he knows that despite his show of exasperation, Nori doesn’t mind).

True to form, Nori is shaking his head and chuckling.  "Yeah well, don’t go gettin’ used to it,” he retorts, fondly and entirely full of shit.  His cheeks are still flushed as red as Bofur’s from both drinking and effort, but his gaze already seems a bit clearer than a few minutes prior.  Still, when Bofur presses against him for a leisurely kiss, he lets out a tiny frustrated whimper, and it is apparent even through his clothing that he is far less finished than his partner.

“Now, we can’t have that,” Bofur mock-chastises, running his palm up the inside of Nori’s thigh and over the obvious bulge between his legs.  He’s still almost giddy that Nori is home, at least for a while, and he is plenty eager to show how glad of it he is as well.  "Let’s see if we can’t get you to bed an’ take care o’ that, aye?“

"Who says we need a bed?” Nori groans, shifting closer to the touch.  "Too far away.“  Bofur laughs again.

"Fair enough.  Got ourselves a nice patch o’ floor here, and what more do a couple o’ stubborn old dwarrows need?”  It earns him the grin he’d hoped for, and he returns it as he lets Nori pull him down.