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Bilbo can’t help staring. Eru, can he be any more majestic? Even when he’s dirty and there’s blood on his face, and he’s thundering at him with blazing eyes. How blue they are, so very, very blue. How is it that even when he’s directing his anger at him, his presence makes his belly squirm? How is it that despite all his disdain, one look can make his face heat up, his hands tremble?
He should be afraid, shouldn’t he? When a tall dwarven king approaches him radiating anger, throwing insults at him? No, he should never have come on this journey, he doesn’t belong in this adventure, but Yavanna be praised, only for this, for this sight, it was worth it. Thorin Oakenshield, bloodied, dirty, angry, majestic, so utterly beautiful. It takes his breath away.
‘I have never been so wrong in all my life.’
What? What did he say? Oh Illúvatar and all the Valar, what is he doing? Is he...? He is. He is hugging him. His arms are so strong, yet they hold him carefully, as if he is afraid to hurt him.
‘I am sorry I doubted you.’
Oh, the fur on his coat is softer than he imagined, and his body is hard. Or is that his armour? His mouth is at his his ear, he can feel his breath as he whispers something. Wait, what did he say? Bilbo can’t think with his nose in Thorin’s hair.
Thorin loosens his embrace, distances his face from Bilbo and looks at him with a question in his eyes. Bilbo tries to remember the last words he understood.
‘Oh, no, that’s quite alright, I would have doubted me too,’ he says. Thorin frowns, his eyes seem to shut down. Bilbo doesn’t understand, why is he becoming distant again?
‘Wait,’ he says. ‘What did you say just now? I was... distracted.’
‘Distracted?’ One eyebrow is lifted high.
‘By your hair....uh your arms... around me...uh.’ Bilbo is sure the blush on his face must be visible from the Lonely Mountain by now. Thorin’s mouth twitches and his eyes start to glimmer. He closes the distance between them again, his lips almost touching Bilbo’s ear.
‘I asked if you would object to being kissed,’ he whispers.
Bilbo has trouble breathing all of a sudden.
‘Kissed?’ he squeaks, quite undignified. ‘By you?’
Thorin shakes a little. Is that a chuckle?
‘Yes, by me,’ says the deep voice in his ear. Bilbo tries not to melt into the strong arms.
‘Yes?’ he says shakily. ‘I mean: no... Uh, I don’t object. Yes, please.’ Yavanna, can he be any more ridiculous?
It is definitely a chuckle this time. For a moment Thorin’s arms press him closer, then he lifts his head just enough so he can touch his lips to Bilbo’s. Oh. Oh ... his kiss is every bit as intense as his eyes... Bilbo’s brain stops working as he floats away, higher than the Eagles could ever take him.