Chapter Text
“What in the hell are you drinking??”
Bombur paused and turned around, trying like hell not to look guilty. Because he was not in fact doing anything wrong, although Nori’s tone clearly would indicate otherwise.
Nori stood there, his hands on his hips, looking for all the world as if he were scolding a three year old. And damn it, Bombur was many things but he was no three year old.
“I am,” he said calmly, “drinking some apple cider vinegar. Mixed with water, of course.”
“Of course,” Nori repeated sarcastically. “Because whether or not there was water in there is what I was concerned about.”
“It’s very good for your blood sugar and it helps my reflux,” Bombur said, straining mightily to sound haughty and not remotely defensive. Even to his own ears he did not succeed.
Nori’s eyebrows (and what bushy and delightful eyebrows they were) shot up even higher than the already very high place they had begun this encounter in.
“Vinegar? Helps your reflux?”
"The idea is we produce less stomach acid as we get older, not more,” Bombur explained patiently. “And so adding a little extra in can be helpful.”
“For what?” Nori asked. “Because correct me if I’m wrong, 'reflux' means too much acid, not too little.” He stomped into the kitchen, gave Bombur a soft kiss on the cheek and then snagged the bottle of Bragg’s from the counter, examining it suspiciously.
“Hey!” Bombur said indignantly. “You tricked me! Kissed me and got me all distracted and then just swept in and - “
Nori’s mouth descended on his and muffled his words...before they stopped completely so he could focus. A guy’s gotta focus when his partner is kissing the daylights out of him, after all.
Nori pulled back slowly, his teeth pulling very gently on Bombur’s bottom lip, before he kissed it gently and stepped back.
“First of all,” Nori said softly, giving him The Look. “If I intend to distract you with a kiss, you’ll know it. Believe me.”
“Check,” said Bombur.
“Second of all, you taste like vinegar.”
“Well,” Bombur replied, grinning. “There’s a good reason for that. Did you know I was drinking apple cider vinegar when you came in?”
That earned his rump a solid swat as Nori reached around him to grab a coffee mug.
“Great in the sack and quick with a comeback,” Nori drawled. “What more could a boy want?”
“I can cook, too,” Bombur reminded him. “Fairly well, or so I’m told.”
“A match made in heaven,” Nori agreed, “since I can burn water.”
Until Nori, Bombur had always thought that was just an expression. It wasn’t.
“I shall leave you to your vinegar,” Nori said as he headed over to the kitchen table. “It seems incredibly strange to me but if it makes you feel better, than who am I and all that?”
“It’s all part of my master plan,” Bombur told him as Nori gathered up a stack of papers. “Part of the New Bombur. New and Improved.”
Nori smiled and leaned back over to caress Bombur’s cheek with his knuckles. “I happen to love the old Bombur, you know,” he reminded him quietly. “So try to leave most of him behind if you don’t mind.”
“If you insist,” Bombur murmured and they kissed again.
And after a while -
“Nori?”
“Hmmm?”
“What time are we meeting them?”
“Who cares?”
_____
And a while after that -
“Nori?”
“Hmmmm?”
“I really think we should call and say we’re running late.”
“They likely know that by now.”
“But - “
“Shhhh…”
A beat, and then -
“Ohhhh, come on!! That’s not fair! How am I supposed to - “
“You’re not supposed to, that’s how. Now hush.”
Bombur hushed. And was well rewarded.
______________
When at last Bombur was able to coax Nori out of bed (and who would have ever thought that would be how it went down? Fat old Bombur having to nearly threaten his sexy, lithe, incredibly gorgeous partner away from lovemaking?? Like, seriously and for reals, Bombur often wondered if he’d forgotten the part where he chose the red pill or something. Or the blue pill. Or whichever fucking pill meant you got to live inside your fantasies for the rest of your days. Because that was sure as shit where he found himself these days - a fantasy of laughter and acceptance and support and love.
Love, love, love. It still took his breath away. Which made sense because Nori still took his breath away.
Anyway.)
When Bombur was at last able to coax Nori out of bed he insisted they call Thorin and Bilbo and that Nori be the one to come up with a feasible story to explain their - dear lord - two hour tardiness.
Two hours! Not since he was a teenager and not even then! His face burned just thinking about it.
He marched Nori back into the kitchen and stuck his phone in his hand.
“Go on now,” he insisted, turning back to the fridge. “And after you’ve told your story and apologized your ass off, please tell them I made us lots of food for today and hope that will serve as an apology.”
Nori grinned.
“You did?” he asked, clearly pleased. “When did you make it? What did you make?”
He began nudging Bombur out of the way (no mean feat, even forty five pounds later) so he could see the selections, practically giddy with excitement. “I’d told you they said not to worry about that!” Nori was saying. “That they would - ohhhhh, you made that German potato salad! Oh, I LOVE your potato salad!!”
“Nori.”
Nori turned and Bombur pointed.
“Please call them now. I am about to have a heart attack that is for once not due to my health but rather due to the stress of being indescribably rude. CALL THEM.”
Sighing, Nori shut the fridge door and slid past Bombur, tapping at his phone.
“I mean, someone might think you were afraid to call or something,” Bombur muttered to himself as he began to pull his creations out of the refrigerator and stack them on the counter. “And I know that can’t be true. The indomitable Nori, afraid? Heaven forbid.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the smaller man.
Nori smirked at him.
What the -
“Bilbo! Hey, it’s me.”
Ohhhhh that son of a bitch, he’s gonna -
“Nori!” Bombur hissed and grabbed for the phone but Nori danced away, wagging his finger at Bombur and grinning even more widely.
“Yeah, so sorry, mate. Bom and I were just fucking and completely lost track of the time. We’ll be there in a tick.”
Bombur dropped his head into his hands and wondered if it were possible to actually catch on fire if you were embarrassed enough.
He could hear Bilbo’s roar of laughter even through the phone.
“Oh!” Nori continued merrily, winking shamelessly at Bombur, “and Bom wanted me to tell you that he’s made us some grub.” A beat. “Yup, German potato salad too.” Another beat. “Ok, good. See you soon, and again - sorry for the delay.” He hung up and tossed his phone on the counter. “Sooooo…” he said breezily, “All is good on their end and they’ll see us soon.”
It’s like climbing a mountain with a tiger, Bombur thought as Nori waltzed past him. You have to be on your guard every moment.
_______________
After the drama of Uber vs. a taxi (Bombur fell squarely into the latter category, which Nori found endearingly ridiculous), they arrived at Thorin and Bilbo’s place. Which Bombur secretly thought of as Xanadu because it was that fancy. Truly. It was.
It had a goddamn swimming pool. That was theirs and only theirs. That they didn’t have to share it with the plebs who lived below them in their fancy-ass Fifth Avenue co-op. Because those bitches might be fancy, but they weren’t that fancy.
Not swimming-pool fancy.
Nori had told him Thorin went to great lengths to get the damn thing installed too, because of course the co-op board had been less than thrilled with the idea. He had ended up buying the apartment directly below his already two-story place to alleviate the board’s concerns about the pool leaking into someone else’s home. Now it could only really leak into Thorin and Bilbo’s home. Not that it ever had, of course. Thorin did not fuck around.
And it had all happened because Bilbo had once said idly that he rather missed being able to wake up in the morning and jump into the lake, the way he had when he was a kid growing up in South Carolina. Because whatever Bilbo wanted, Bilbo got. And then some. Never mind that they also owned a place in the Hamptons AND in Bermuda. Nope. There was going to be goddamn immediate access to water in every home they owned or his name wasn’t Thorin Durin.
And all of this would have been entirely insufferable if it weren’t for Bilbo himself, who, despite the gigantic tub of butter into which he’d fallen, somehow managed to be one of the most laid-back, kind, thoughtful and interesting people Bombur had ever met. He truly seemed not nearly as interested in the material trappings that went with Thorin as he clearly was in Thorin himself. Which made Bombur forgive him. A little. Even if the pool made it difficult sometimes.
Nori had wandered inside with Thorin after he and Bombur had arrived so now he and Bilbo were kicking back, just the two of them, by the pool. Bombur was still wearing his street clothes as he remained a bit self-conscious about the whole “bathing suit” thing, though he had come a long way since he and Nori had started dating.
A long-avoided trip to his doctor - who’d pretended to have no idea who Bombur was as it had been an admittedly long time since he’d last had an appointment - confirmed that yes, his weight was definitely affecting his health and that losing even a bit of it would incur very positive and immediate changes.
“You gain one inch for every thirty pounds you lose, you know,” his doctor had said casually as Bombur was changing back into his street clothes.
Bombur had been confused.
“One inch of wha - “
And then the penny had dropped and he’d blushed while Oin, the fucker, had slapped him on the back and laughed heartily at his indignation.
And, well, if he were being honest with himself, knowing that hadn’t hurt a bit on the occasions, more rare with the passage of time, when he’d been moved to eat by some force other than hunger. He would think of that extra inch (or more! Why stop at just one?) and how much more fun it could be having it (and he was having a great deal of fun now, make no mistake) and it helped him focus on something more productive than eating a bag of Lay’s while watching a marathon of Flip or Flop and waiting for Nori to come home.
And when he’d hit thirty lost pounds, he’d made a penis cake (a very small one, no pun intended) for them to share. And what had happened after still made him blush a little. Not that that was difficult, but man...that had been a time. Yes, it had.
Bilbo sighed, and Bombur pulled his thoughts away from the post-cake sex and focused on the present. Which, considering he was lying outside on a gorgeous day poolside in the middle of Manhattan, was a pretty remarkable place to be.
“How are things at the restaurant going?”
And now it was Bombur’s turn to sigh.
“Fine,” he told Bilbo, “and thank you for asking. It’s just - “
He paused, unsure of how much to share. How much he even dared to think about himself.
Bilbo waited and then -
“Just what?”
Just tell him. Maybe saying it out loud to someone other than Nori will help make it a thing. A real thing, not just a...whatever it is now.
“I, ummm…”
Go on, you can trust Bilbo!
And side-note - wasn’t it so lovely to have ditched the nasty little voice that had haunted him for so long? Wasn’t that just peachy? Because this little voice was a keeper - kind and encouraging and sweet.
Side-side note - the departure of the ugly voice coincided fairly specifically with moving in with Nori. Coincidence? Bombur sure as hell didn’t think so.
“I want to open my own place,” he blurted out and was extremely gratified to see Bilbo grin.
“Bombur, I am absolutely not joking when I tell you I had said that very thing to Thorin last week!”
“Really?”
“Really and truly!” And now Bilbo sat up, lounging forgotten for the moment, and faced him, radiating excitement. “We had just gone to dinner somewhere new-ish - “
“Centra?”
“Nooo…”
“Mikey Joe’s?”
Bilbo started laughing. “You’ve been staking out all the new places?” he asked, now practically bouncing in his seat. “It was neither of those, it was some kind of Mexi - “
“Rojo.”
“Yes!! That’s the one! Rojo.” And since Bilbo was fluent in Spanish (and French and Italian) his accent was far superior to Bombur’s. It was one of the things about him that would be annoying if he weren’t so damn sweet.
“And…?” Bombur knew he was fishing but he couldn’t help it. “What did you think?” Bilbo screwed his face up a little and Bombur started to laugh a little. “That bad?” he asked, smiling.
“Nooo, it wasn’t bad…” but Bilbo’s tone made it clear it hadn’t been that good, either.
Bombur sat back in his chair a bit, reaching for the glass of ice water he’d set to the side. “Mexican isn’t really what I do,” he reminded Bilbo. “Not that I don’t love it, I just - “
“No, I understand that,” Bilbo assured him. “It’s not that it was Mexican that made me think of you, it’s that it was new and there’d been such fanfare about it and - “
“So much so that you completely forgot the name of the place!” Bombur interjected.
“Oh hush!” Bilbo smacked his arm. “I’m trying to compliment you! It was new, lots of fuss, hard to get a table - “
“I’m sure Thorin had quite a time of it.”
“And,” Bilbo continued, glaring at Bombur, “it was fine but nothing really exciting, you know? It didn’t bring anything new to the table, if you’ll excuse the pun. And on the way home we were talking about the last time we’d really been blown away by a meal and it had been at your place.”
Bombur was surprised. And not surprised. And very tickled.
“At Watchley or at our place place?” he asked.
“Well, both, to be honest,” Bilbo admitted. “But that night we were talking about the meal you made us when you invited us over to your home, after you’d moved in.”
“Christ, Bilbo - that was seven months ago!” Bombur was horrified that it had been that long since his friend had enjoyed a truly special meal. Also that it had been seven months since they’d invited Thorin and Bilbo over.
Well, we don’t have a pool, he reminded himself.
“Yeah, well,” Bilbo was saying, “If this morning is any indication you’ve clearly been busy.”
“Bilbo!”
Don’t blush don’t blush don’t blush we’re all adults here and most adults have sex.
“Ahhhh!!” Bilbo crowded. “Look at that! Are we shy, famous chef?? Are we just terribly shy, you precious little snowflake, you??”
“Stop it,” Bombur muttered, trying not to laugh and failing miserably. Kind of the way he was trying not to blush and failing miserably.
“Aw, I’m only teasing,” Bilbo assured him, patting his hand gently. “I actually quite appreciate that you’ve maintained your modesty after so much time with Nori. I would think that would be rather hard to do.”
"You don’t know that half of it,” Bombur sighed, sending Bilbo off into fresh peals of laughter.
_____________
“Well? What do you think?”
Bilbo's question hung in the air as Bombur handed the pipe back to him and watched the smoke drift above them lazily.
There was almost no breeze and the day had gotten very hot, which if he’d been down on street-level with the rest of the unwashed masses would be painful...but up here in Xanadu all was right with the world, that was for sure.
He wasn’t a huge weed fan (not like Bilbo was, anyway - that guy was like a reggae band), but he’d smoked enough to know this was some fine stuff. Or bud. Did you call it “stuff” or “bud”? Maybe either? Both?
He waited for Bilbo’s response.
When it didn’t come he looked over to see Bilbo looking expectantly back at him.
“What?”
“What yourself?” Bilbo grinned. “I asked what you thought.”
“No, I asked you what you call it. Do you say “stuff” or “bud”? As in, how do you refer to it when you’re trying to tell the friend who’s sharing it with you that you think it’s pretty damn good.”
Bilbo laughed. “For the record, you did not actually ask me that.” When Bombur opened his mouth to object, Bilbo shushed him absently with his hand. “You did not, my friend, unless it was telepathically. However, I shall overlook this and answer your question.”
Bombur was confused.
“I did ask you though,” he pointed out. “Just now. I said - I asked YOU - “
“Yes, but only after - “
“But I did - “
“Bombur, are you stoned?”
He turned around and there stood Nori, grinning at him.
His head was blocking the sun which had the advantage of not only making him look like an angel but, well - he was blocking the sun which had been getting pretty hot.
“You are pretty hot,” he said to Nori now and Nori grinned more widely as Bilbo started to giggle.
“What did you do with mine?” he asked Nori. “Is he ever coming out or has whatever it is you’ve been talking about put him in a foul mood?”
“Thorin in a foul mood?” Nori dramatically clapped a hand over his heart. “Why, I cannot believe such a thing is possible! Not our even-tempered, decidedly un-prickly, devil-may-care Thorin!” He and Bilbo laughed together while Bombur enjoyed the view. Because Nori, surrounded by a halo of mid-afternoon sun, his eyes crinkled at the corners, laughing was not something he cared to miss.
“Bom told me about the place, the new place he wants to open,” Bilbo was saying and Nori looked over at Bombur, surprised.
“Did he now?” he asked, his eyebrow raised a tiny bit. Probably such a tiny bit that only someone who knew him well would have noticed. Bombur reckoned he qualified as “someone who knew Nori well” at this point and wasn’t that just a huge, fucking fabulous kick in the ass? Who knew the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow was going to be so fucking brilliant?
He smiled benignly at them both, hoping to convey his pleasure with the sun, the weed, the company, his whole damn life.
Nori leaned down and kissed him softly.
“I am very happy to see you’re enjoying yourself,” he whispered in Bombur’s ear before kissing it gently and sending an electrical spark right to Bombur’s groin.
He knows what that does to me the bastard.
And sure enough, he was treated to a leer and a wink as Nori straightened back up before turning to Bilbo. “Your lesser half is on the phone with Dwalin,” he told him. “He sent me out to check on you, make sure all was well, that sort of thing. Probably wondering if you wanted him to add a helicopter landing pad up here or something.”
“Zip it!” Bilbo whacked Nori on the leg. Or tried to - Nori had seen it coming (which wasn’t hard as Bombur felt as if he were moving under water and could only imagine Bilbo felt the same). “You know as well as I that this pool, as lovely as it is, is not anything I asked for and was not my fault!”
“Yes, of course,” Nori said before adding - “I’ll just let him know you’d like to add a tennis court in time for the Open. That gives us at least a few weeks.”
“Nori!”
Laughing as he blew a kiss to Bombur, Nori ducked back inside.
Bilbo turned back around and settled in again, harumphing to himself. “Never asked for a pool, don’t need a pool,” he was muttering and Bombur laughed.
“He’s besotted,” he said. “That’s what you do when you’re besotted - whatever you can that’s within your means. It’s not your fault he has the means of Croesus.”
Bilbo snorted. “He is so lovely, isn’t he?” he agreed. “I mean, I’m speaking of Thorin but Nori too. Both so handsome and generous and loyal. Quite extraordinary, really.”
Bombur sighed. “I sometimes don’t have the words for it,” he admitted as he accepted the pipe Bilbo passed to him. “It seems like such a short time has passed and yet so much has changed. Parts of me have not caught up.”
Bilbo hummed a bit.
“I only…” and here Bombur hesitated. It was one thing to share his thoughts on starting his own place, quite another to share the tiny kernels of doubt he still struggled with. He handed Bilbo back the pipe and thought for a minute.
Bilbo said nothing, he simply inhaled deeply, held it and then carefully let the smoke out in perfect rings. It was very impressive.
Bombur watched them float for a while, and when they had expanded and broken apart he said, “I still feel as if I’m not enough for him.”
Silence.
He glanced over.
Bilbo lay back on the chair, his eyes closed.
“Bilbo.”
“Hmmm?”
“Are you asleep?”
“Would I be answering you if I were?”
“I didn’t know if you’d heard me.”
Bilbo opened his eyes.
“I heard you,” he said. “I was simply waiting for you to elaborate.”
Bombur turned his still fairly large self in his chair to better face Bilbo. “How do you imagine I’m going to elaborate?” he asked. “Don’t you know what I mean?”
Bilbo’s eyes closed again.
“I can’t say that I do, no.”
Bombur huffed a little.
“Can you please at least try to behave as if you’re paying attention?" he asked a bit plaintively. "I’m trying to...I don’t know. Open up. Talk through some stuff. Share!”
Bilbo started laughing. “Bombur, I swear to you I’m listening. But all you’ve said so far is you worry you’re not enough. Well, not enough what? You’re an acclaimed chef, you work at one of the best restaurants in North America, if not the world. Most of the restaurant’s success is due to you, of course. You’re kind, thoughtful, funny as hell - “
“I’m fat,” Bombur interrupted. “I’m very fat. Do you see now? Do you see why I worry? I look like me and Nori looks like Nori and...isn’t that weird? It still sometimes feels so weird to me.”
And now Bilbo opened his eyes and looked at him, his expression kind.
“There we go,” he said. “I thought that might be what you were driving towards but I wanted to be sure.”
“Before you told me all the other ways I should be concerned that I’m not enough?" Bombur sputtered, feeling a bit outraged.
“Dear lord, Bom - are you like this all the time?” Bilbo sat up on an elbow, squinting at him. “Is this kind of stuff swirling around in your little pointed head all day or is the weed bringing it on? Because now you’re being ridiculous.”
“You’re going to tell me I’m not fat?”
“Who cares? Nori doesn’t seem to.”
“Well…” Bombur was unconvinced.
“Bom, I’m fat. Do you see me torturing myself, wondering what Thorin sees in me?”
Bombur was indignant.
"You’re not fat, you’re...pleasantly plump. At most.”
“Oooooh, pleasantly plump! I like that!” Bilbo took another hit and blew more smoke rings. “Yeah...I like that.”
“And Thorin built you a swimming pool,” Bombur pointed out. “In Manhattan.”
“Yeah…”
Bombur could see Bilbo’s eyes drift away and knew the small smile on his face was not intended for him. Honestly, it was enough to make you sick. Or to reaffirm your faith in humanity. Or both.
He sighed again and stood up slowly, moving to the edge of the pool so he could stick his feet in. Why be stoned by a pool if you weren’t going to touch the water?
Bilbo carefully tapped the pipe out and came to sit next to him. Together they watched their feet shimmer in the water for a while, the silence comfortable and companionable.
“Do you need Nori to build you a pool, is that it?” Bilbo asked gently and Bombur shook his head.
“No, no - I don’t need anything so fancy.”
“Well, I don’t mean literally, I mean metaphorically. Some grand gesture? Would that help you feel better?”
Bombur considered, swinging his feet gently back and forth in the water.
“I don’t think so,” he finally answered, turning back to Bilbo, his hand shading his eyes. It really was getting hot, even in Xanadu. “I mean, it’s not as if he doesn’t make fairly grand gestures all the time, you know? He’s always arranging tickets to something, or bringing home flowers - “
“Well, there you are,” said Bilbo and he flopped back on the pool deck, his skin beginning to turn pink from the sun. “Those are lovely gestures, if you ask me.”
“He was the one who suggested moving in together.”
Bilbo sat up again, with an agility Bombur envied.
“Really?” he asked. “I had been wondering how that had all gone down.”
Bombur nodded and smiled a little, remembering. He glanced over at Bilbo, suddenly shy. “You truly don’t…” and then he wasn’t sure how to continue. How do you say to someone ‘aren’t you self-conscious about how you compare to your extremely handsome partner?”
He should have know Bilbo, of all people, would see through that in two seconds.
“I gave up worrying about that years ago, Bom.” Bilbo said, reaching back for the pipe. “There are few people who can compare to Thorin in terms of physical attractiveness. In my opinion, anyway.”
“Agreed.”
Bilbo laughed. “Now I know you’re stoned,” he said. “Straight Bombur would never say anything like that. You’re all id when you’re high. I love it.”
Bombur blushed (wow, how unusual!) and then boldly said, “Well, it’s true. He’s a beautiful guy. So is Nori. They are both very beautiful guys. Men. Beautiful men.”
Bilbo nodded. “So, now that we agree on that, “ he grinned, “it seems foolish, doesn’t it, to try to compete with them on that kind of level? Do you follow me?”
“'Compete' seems - “
“Well, you know what I mean. They are so handsome one would be hard-pressed to keep up, yes? So why worry? If they wanted someone as attractive as themselves, don’t you think they’ve both had ample opportunity to find that person?”
“I suppose…” Bombur was still unconvinced. And really, really high. And he still took the pipe when Bilbo offered it and inhaled as deeply as he could.
“Maybe they don’t want to date themselves, as it were,” Bilbo suggested. “Maybe, heaven forbid, they find us as attractive as we find them.”
Bombur snorted. “You, maybe. There’s no way that can be true for me.”
“Bom - “
“Bilbo, please. You can’t deny it. You’re adorable and accomplished. I may be accomplished but I am far from adorable.”
He looked down into the water again, suddenly hypnotized by his feet gently swaying in the water. He sighed. The water was a funhouse mirror, distorting the size and shape of his feet and calves, making them wavy, thinner, paler than they truly were. If only there were a funhouse mirror I could carry around with me, he thought. Because whatever it made me look like would have to be an improvement.
Whoa.
Where is all this coming from, he wondered. He thought he had made such strides in terms of his self-image and confidence in himself and yet here he was, still so very worried about his appearance. Still so very uncertain about how he measured up. Still so very sure that being fat trumped every other damn thing about him.
He rubbed his eyes. Not because he’d teared up or anything. Just because.
He was suddenly aware how quiet it was.
He looked up, right at Nori, as it turned out. Nori smiled at him.
“This seat taken?” he asked as he lowered himself down and kicked his sandals off.
Bombur blinked.
“How did - Where’s - Wait, when did you get out here?” he managed.
Nori reached out to take his hand. “Bilbo came in to get me,” he explained, gently rubbing the back of Nori’s hand. “He told me you needed some attention. And then Thorin came out of the bedroom and now they’re...well - “
Bombur chuckled a little, surreptitiously swiping at his face to hide the fact he’d been teary two seconds ago.
“Like teenagers,” he managed and Nori laughed.
“Part of why we love them, right?” he asked and his hand drifted up to caress Bombur’s arm a bit. His hand felt so good, soft but strong and incredibly gentle but still insistent...in the best way.
“Bom…”
Bombur looked up as Nori trailed off.
"Hmmm?"
Nori gave him a small smile and reached over slowly to caress his cheek, leaning forward and resting their foreheads together after a moment. “Can I ask what made you upset?” he asked very quietly. “Because I can tell that you’ve been crying.”
With a groan, Bombur pulled away and flopped onto his back. And then hoped he’d be able to sit back up again.
“I’m fine,” he started but Nori cut him off.
“Please,” he said and his tone made Bombur blink and look up at him.
Nori was leaning over him a bit, resting on an elbow, and his expression was...strange. Bombur couldn’t quite place it, he only knew it was the most open he’d ever seen him, the most vulnerable. And vulnerable and Nori did not really go together.
Suppose there's no time like the present to test that sitting back up thing.
Bombur tensed the muscles in his abdomen, took a moment to glory in the fact that there were actually muscles there to tense and that they were strong enough to respond appropriately, and, using his arms just a bit (just a bit! Fancy that!) he sat back up and tried not to look too pleased with himself for doing it quite gracefully. If you asked him, anyway.
And now he was sitting a bit above Nori, who was still reclining back, propped up on an elbow. He enjoyed the view for a heartbeat and then said -
“Nori, I’m good. Honestly. I think the weed made me a little maudlin, but truly - there are no worries here.”
And the thing was, it almost felt true. Almost.
Then Nori sat up too and looked at him and it was such a peculiar feeling because Bombur knew that Nori knew that he wasn’t being honest. And he could see in the face of this person who made their livelihood being an unreadable cipher, a sphinx, that Nori was deciding whether or not to push him. To call him on his bullshit answer.
Why can I see all this? How can I read him so well? Nobody can read Nori, not even Dori. Not even Ori. They’ve actually started asking me what he thinks about things, now that I think about it. They ask me, as if I know better than anyone.
But I do know better than anyone. Don’t I?
Why is that??
Nori’s face suddenly softened and he said, “Christ, Bom - I can see your wheels turning. Can you please tell me what’s going on with you?”
And just like that, the penny dropped. The fog lifted.
He understood.
He loves me. That’s why I can read him so well. He loves me and he trusts me with everything. And he’s having trouble reading me because I love him but I’m - I’m -
“How can you love me?” he burst out. “I don’t...I still - “
“Will you marry me?”