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The meeting with the envoy from Dale and the elven delegation had run late for the third night in a row. Bilbo had stayed up the first night to wait for him, but had been fast asleep in bed when Thorin had arrived last night. He hoped his husband was sleeping, if only so one of them didn’t have dark circles under their eyes. Trudging along the hall, he bid goodnight to Dwalin just outside his and Bilbo’s chambers before slipping inside.
The room was dim, lit only by the fire of to one side, but he could clearly see that the bed was empty. His husband hadn’t perked up when he had entered, and a quick check showed that the chairs in before the hearth were empty as well. Then he heard it, a faint splash of water from the lavatory and he prowled towards the door.
Bilbo sat submerged in the in-ground tub with his back to the door and Thorin leaned against the frame to take in the whole scene. He had drawn a full bath with a healthy layer of fluffy bubbles that threatened to spill out. Next to him on a tray was a spread of cheeses, hard meats, and crackers along side two tankards.
“It’s rude to stare,” Bilbo’s cheeky voice sounded clearly through the room as he peeked over his shoulder, “Especially when you could join.”
“What is the occasion, my consort?” Thorin asked as he began to remove his formal garb, leaving it in a pile by the door.
Bilbo turned to face him, watching him disrobe through hooded eyes, “Nothing special. Someone may have mentioned that you were in a foul mood and I thought this might make it better.”
Thorin hummed noncommittally as he dropped the last of his clothes and slipped into the bath. The warm water was just right and he felt the tension easing from his muscles. He had barely settled when Bilbo climbed into his lap, looping his arms around Thorin’s shoulders and pressing a languid kiss to his lips.
Thorin hummed contentedly as he skimmed his palms up Bilbo’s sides beneath the water as his hobbit pulled back to smile at him, green eyes sparkling like emeralds. He reached back behind him and snagged on of the tankards, “Ale, my king?”
He took the tankard and allowed himself to be manhandled until his back was to Bilbo. The hobbit kneaded at his shoulders and the muscles down his back as Thorin sipped at the ale, knuckles working out knots and helping him to relax. By the time he had drained the tankard, his muscles felt like jelly, and he offered no protest when the mug was taken from his fingers and set aside.
Bilbo proceeded to undo the various braids in his hair and beard, running his fingers through them and gently removing any tangles. Thorin let his eyes flutter closed at the feeling of small fingers massaging his scalp and murmured, “You take such good care of me.”
“Well, someone has to.” Bilbo chuckled softly, and he couldn’t help but agree.
Once his hair was taken care of, Thorin turned and reciprocated, running his fingers through Bilbo’s silky curls while the hobbit closed his eyes and sighed. Thorin pressed kisses to his husband’s forehead and cheeks and neck as he reached blindly for the soap, smiling against his skin as Bilbo giggled.
They helped each other bathe, trading soap and kisses, but too tired for anything more strenuous. Thorin asked about Bilbo’s day, and Bilbo gave a few excellent suggestions for making his meetings go better. They talked about everything and nothing as they dried off and slipped into nightclothes.
Their bed was warm and inviting, and as Bilbo climbed under the duvet, Thorin pulled him close. After a moment of negotiating limb placement his husband sighed against his neck before dropping a lazy kiss to the skin there, “Good night, Thorin.”
“Sleep well, love.” Thorin replied softly, pressing a kiss to Bilbo’s curls. Tomorrow would be another stressful day, but for now he let the soft crackle of the fire and his husband’s deepening breaths lull him into slumber.