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Bilbo Baggins, age thirty-four, internationally renowned children’s book author and occasional television personality, was scared. He was absolutely terrified right now because one of his very best friends has set him up for a blind date – who should be arriving any minute now. He stood before the full-length mirror in his bedroom checking over his appearance. His hair was still an awkward shock of dark honey curls that refused to be tamed, but everything else was as flawless as it would ever be.
His instructions were to wear something business casual, so he’d chosen his favorite charcoal grey trousers and a deep claret shirt, finished off with his best black belt and freshly shined loafers. While he would normally say he looked fantastic, he was getting ready to go on a date with someone he had never met before so his opinion was a little swayed.
Was it against the rules to have a bit of alcohol before a blind date? He pulled out his mobile and shot Bofur a text asking his opinion. The response was an immediate “no alcohol” along with a photo request. Bilbo heaved a sigh and snapped the selfie before shooting it off as he glanced back at the mirror. Unfortunately didn’t have enough time to make a quick cup of tea, either, it would really do wonders for his nerves.
Bilbo stepped away from the mirror once Bofur had given his outfit of choice several thumbs up via little emoji things. Honestly, if anyone other than his best friend had set this up, he would have declined, in no uncertain terms. He could stand in front of a camera for live television, but this whole dating thing flustered him to no end. He was not good with personal questions that weren’t scripted beforehand. This was going to be a disaster.
Sighing again, Bilbo slipped out of his bedroom and headed for the front room turning off lights as he went. As he slumped into his favorite armchair he sent his friend another text asking for a reminder as to what he’d gotten himself into. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and trying not to bury his head in his hands and muss his curls any more than they already were.
When his phone buzzed he checked the message and immediately felt his cheeks burn, “Name’s Thorin. He’s about forty, tall with broad shoulders, dark hair and a nice beard. Exactly what you always ask for.” It was followed by a series of winking faces and chili peppers, and Bilbo couldn’t help the embarrassed groan as he rolled his eyes.
He was almost afraid to read the message that followed, but forced himself to do so anyways. “As for personality, he’s about like my little niece’s stuffed dragon. He’s a bit scary-looking at first, but a softy on the inside. Ask him about his family and he’ll open right up.” And more winking faces.
“As long as he doesn’t breath fire…” Bilbo shot back with a little image of a burning house. Bofur merely laughed and told him to have a good time. He smiled despite himself, the tightness in his stomach much less uncomfortable after a little banter. This is why he and Bofur got along so well – no matter how stressed he felt the crazy artist could always bring a smile to his face.
He only had to wait a few more minutes for the doorbell to sound, and he stood, dusting his hands across his clothes to banish any wrinkles. He snatched up his wallet and keys before stepping to the heavy wood door. Through the round window he could see that Bofur wasn’t kidding about how tall the man was, and in profile as he was, Bilbo could also see that his short beard was neatly trimmed. There were a few wisps of silver in his short hair, slicked back away from his face without looking greasy.
Bilbo took a deep breath before pulling the door open. It groaned a little on it’s hinges, catching the man’s attention and he turned impossibly blue eyes on him. Oh dear, Bilbo thought, I’m so done for and he hasn’t even spoken yet. He willed away his blush, though it only seemed to intensify, and smiled up at him, “Hello! You must be Thorin.”
Thorin’s stern features softened a touch as he offered a rather charming smile and inclined his head a touch, “And you must be Bilbo. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
His voice was smooth and deep like a roll of thunder with the barest hint of a city accent, and he let it wash over him. Well, that settles it; his blush will be remaining for the entirety of the evening. Bilbo stepped out onto the porch and turned to lock the door, giving Thorin what he hoped was a discrete once-over.
He wore a royal blue shirt, tailored perfectly to enhance what must be a muscular physic, with black slacks that had a very subtle shiny stripe to them and black oxfords. He felt a touch self-conscious, what with his lack of any real muscle, but it completely vanished as he turned back around. Thorin hastily smothered his appreciative look behind something more polite, a tinge of pink splashed across his cheekbones as he asked, “Shall we?”
Bilbo managed to nod and followed Thorin to his sleek Mercedes E-class, pointedly not noticing how nicely his pants accentuated the older man’s arse. He managed a quick smile as the passenger door was opened for him and slid into the car. Bofur really hadn’t been joking about the stuffed dragon reference, either. Thorin’s slightly intimidating stature and strong features belied his charming and somewhat shy disposition – although he wasn’t quite sure he would call him a “softy” just yet like Bofur had.
~-~-+-~-~
Thorin was in trouble. He’d been told Bilbo was cute, but nothing could have prepared him for the short, handsome man that greeted him. His artfully tousled honey curls begged him to run his fingers through them and his slightly upturned nose demanded a kiss just like his rosy cheeks. Those hazel eyes seemed to see right through him and the curve of his smile was the most attractive thing he’s ever seen.
The drive to the restaurant had been quiet, broken occasionally by Bilbo giving him directions. He’d admitted to getting lost twice on his way, which had made him rather uncomfortable and he had anticipated Bilbo teasing him. The blond had smiled and informed him that he had used a GPS to find it for the first two weeks he’d lived there, which made him feel much better.
He pulled up to the front of the restaurant and stepped out, taking the valet number and smiled as Bilbo turned his excited gaze on him, “How on earth did you get a reservation here? They just opened last week!”
“The owner is a family friend.” He replied truthfully before the need to be cheeky struck, “I’m honestly just using you as an excuse to try it out before my sister returns from her trip.”
“If this is how you use people, feel free to use me any time you like.” The shorter man smirked back. It sounded incredibly provocative to his ears, and the blush that painted Bilbo’s cheeks suggested that he hadn’t meant for it to come across that way.
Thorin ushered him inside, smiling at the rather fussy-looking man behind the reception counter as he glanced up and grinned broadly, “Thorin! So glad you could make it! Where is your lovely sister?”
“Hello Dori. Dís is actually out of the country with the boys right now. They should be back next week.” He replied, taking Dori’s extended hand and gave it a firm shake, “So, I’ve brought a date instead.”
“Oh, splendid! I promise we won’t disappoint!” He beamed, extending a hand to Bilbo, “I’m Dori, it’s a pleasure!”
“Oh no, the pleasure is all mine I assure you! Bilbo Baggins, at your service!” He smiled politely, as he shook Dori’s hand. The last name seemed to ring a bell, but he couldn’t quite place it – wasn’t there a food writer or something by the name of Baggins?
The older man grinned, gesturing for them to follow him to their table. Thorin placed his palm in the middle of Bilbo’s back, signaling him to step before him. The shorter man shot him a look, imparting quietly, “You’d better not be staring at my arse again.”
Thorin felt his cheeks warm – so much for attempting to be sneaky earlier. He almost apologized, but noticed the teasing tilt to his lips and the mischief behind his eyes. Arching one eyebrow, he retorted, “I haven’t the faintest idea what you are talking about.”
Bilbo gave him a skeptical look over his shoulder as he walked away. Thorin would admit, in the privacy of his own head, that the younger man did have a nice arse. Dori led them to a corner table by a window, pulling their waiter aside as they settled, “Take good care of them, and their wine and desert’s on the house.”
“You aren’t going to make any money like that, Dori.” Thorin sighed.
“I believe you tell me that every time, but that doesn’t change anything. Wine is always on the house for you and your family.” Dori turned his bright grin over to Bilbo, “And anyone who puts Ori in touch with a publisher deserves something special.”
Bilbo flushed a dark red and managed to stammer out his insistence that no gratitude was necessary, but it fell on deaf ears as the owner strutted off. They shared an exasperated look and the smaller man eventually shrugged. Thorin shook his head, listening dutifully as the waiter listed off their wine selection before ordering a nice bottle of pinot noir from Burgundy, after getting a nod of approval from his date of course.
Once dinner was ordered, Thorin couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer, “So, you’re an author?”
Bilbo smiled shyly at him, “Well, yeah. I’ve published a few books under a pseudonym, probably not anything you’ve read.”
“I read a lot. Try me.” He smirked at the blush that dusted the other’s cheeks.
“Um, it’s a children’s series really, The Little Hobbit.” Bilbo looked entirely too flustered and cute to be legal.
Thorin, for his part, managed to keep his jaw from falling to the floor (though just barely), “So, you’re Mr. Took? I cannot tell you how many times I have read The Little Hobbit Has a Sleepover to my nephews, but I know that the poor book is nearly falling apart they love it so much. I believe their favorite character, other than the Little Hobbit of course, is the Dwarf with the Funny Hat.”
Bilbo smiled a little more brightly now, “Really? If that book is their favorite, not to mention the Dwarf, then they must be a handful.”
“You have no idea.” He replied a touch ruefully, though it didn’t last long. Nothing could bring a smile to his face faster than his sister’s sons. Trading stories of their respective nephews seemed to settle something in both of them and conversation flowed with unexpected ease as the world filtered past the window and night truly settled in.
Bilbo actually paid attention and asked specific questions about his work when they discussed it and seemed genuinely interested in the more technical aspects of architecture. The smaller man was extremely charming with an uncommonly intelligent sense of humor, and just cheeky enough to keep Thorin’s pride in check.
Dinner was exquisite, as always when at one of Dori’s restaurants, and Bilbo unknowingly chose one of his favorite desserts to share: a large piece of tiramisu with fresh raspberries on the side (a bit on the cheesy side for Thorin’s taste, probably Dori’s doing). Bilbo didn’t seem to mind, though, and he plucked one off the plate, popping it into his mouth with a hum of pleasure.
Thorin cut the first bite, offering it to his date, who flushed beautifully as he took it. It wasn’t something he usually did, especially on a first date, but something about the smaller man begged him to be a little temerarious. He was honestly surprised when Bilbo shyly offered him the next bite – complete with a raspberry – and fought down a blush of his own as he took it. The dark espresso flavor mixed perfectly with the tart burst of the raspberry, and he couldn’t help the contented smile that crossed his face.
~-~-+-~-~
Bilbo felt his cheeks darken and couldn’t help answering Thorin’s smile with one of his own. He usually didn’t take kindly to being fed, mostly because it had always been done in an almost condescending way. He may be shorter than average and look a few years younger than his age, but that does not mean that he should be treated like a child. That had not been the case this time, though.
Thorin had offered it with an openly soft smile. He seemed a bit shocked at his own daring and it was for that reason alone that he’d taken the offered bite. He’d also seemed surprised when Bilbo had offered him the same, and he was certain that there were many things he would be willing to do to see that lovely blush again.
He wondered briefly if that had been too romantic for a first date – it was certainly a bit much for a blind date – but found that he really didn’t care. He was far too busy enjoying himself to focus on the social norms of dating. All that really mattered was that this was the most successful date he’d ever been on, not to mention that Thorin was the most attractive and most interesting person he’d ever been on a date with.
They managed to keep their forks to themselves as they finished the tiramisu, though his cheeks decided to flush every time their gazes met. The older man seemed to have the same issue, which Bilbo found very endearing. They conversed with ease, despite all the blushing, which amazed him since he usually didn’t like talking to people for such a long time. He was also a bit surprised at the sharp pang of disappointment that the evening was coming to an end.
Bilbo honestly didn't want to have to say goodnight. They'd barely known each other a handful of hours and he already felt like he couldn't spend enough time with the man. He got the idea that Thorin's default state was rather unimpressed – he does have the perfect 'I'm so done with you and your crap' face – and all Bilbo wanted to do was give him a reason to smile more often. It spoke of a very long-term relationship, and the kind of domesticity he never thought he'd find with another person.
It was a little frightening how easily he pictured them both relaxing in front of a cozy fire while Bilbo read and Thorin did some work – or perhaps cooking breakfast together. He might even become a reoccurring character in his books, the Grumpy Dragon maybe. Gods, he was screwed, Bilbo thought, fidgeting with the cloth napkin he'd placed on the table, plucking at the fabric as he tried not to panic.
Bilbo was so busy attempting to come to terms with how badly he had it, that he hadn't noticed the waiter bring the cheque until Thorin had already handed over his bankcard. He opened his mouth to protest, but Thorin merely smiled and told him not to worry about it.
Huffing a bit, Bilbo replied, "Fine, but I'll pick up the tab next time."
He watched a dark blush spread beautifully across the older man's cheeks and up to his ears as his dark eyebrows raised and his lips parted. As Thorin seemed to flounder for his response, it finally hit Bilbo that he'd basically just told the other man that he wanted another date. He felt his own blush slam into him and anxiety crawled uncomfortably in his stomach as he tried to back peddle, "I-I mean, if you'd like to do this again s-sometime. If n-not that's fine, I just..."
Bilbo was silenced as Thorin's larger hands cupped his own where they had clenched instinctively around the poor napkin. His deep blue eyes were suffused with something warm that Bilbo couldn't name as he offered a shy smile, "I would very much like to see you again. I... I usually don’t have people ask me for a second date."
"Somehow I find that hard to believe..." He mumbled. Thorin offered him a skeptical look and Bilbo couldn't help but tease the man a little, "What, did they take one look at that scowl of yours and run?"
He wasn't able to stop the slight giggle that bubbled up as Thorin showed off his scowl, which only seemed to make it worse. Bilbo might have been worried that he'd offended the man if he couldn't clearly see the amused glint in his eyes as his expression started to crack. Eventually Bilbo got to see his brilliant grin, though Thorin quickly ducked his head to try and hide it. When their gazes locked again, he was still smiling a little, "You truly are amazing."
"T-thanks," He mumbled, flushing at the blatant sincerity in his deep voice. Bilbo slowly released his death grip on the napkin and tentatively turned his hands over to curl their fingers together, "You aren't too bad yourself."
Just as Thorin opened his mouth to say something else, the waiter returned and placed a little metal tray with the receipt and a pen and Thorin's card on the table. The young lady offered them a warm, knowing smile as she told them to have a fantastic evening. Bilbo was secretly pleased that Thorin hadn't made any move to disentangle their fingers, even if he did blush a little. They both smiled politely back, though once she turned and began to leave Thorin pinned him with an amusedly resigned look, "How much do you want to bet that she is discussing our potential love life with the rest of the staff?"
"Oh, so there is potential there? Well, that's good." Bilbo smirked cheekily at Thorin's embarrassed look, "I'm afraid you'll have to wait, though. That's a rule I won't break. However, for you I could be persuaded to allow a goodnight kiss."
Thorin cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward a little, his fingers tightening around Bilbo's as he intoned, "Oh really? And how many others have been granted such leniency?"
Bilbo felt his heart speed up a touch as warmth pooled low in his belly at the slightly possessive note in that deep baritone. Thorin's gaze flicked down to his lips and back as Bilbo smirked and leaned in a little closer to murmur, "Wouldn't you like to know?"
He watched Thorin's pupils flare in appreciation as the older man sat back and surveyed him with hooded eyes. Bilbo raised his chin a touch and tried to look as smug as possible. It only served to make Thorin smirk, "I guess I'll have to stick around and find out."
"I guess so." Bilbo replied, squeezing the other man's fingers lightly before letting them slip away. He sipped some water to try and cool his blood as Thorin took care of the cheque and slid his card back inside his wallet. Truth be told, he honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd actually kissed someone. His last relationship had ended quite badly sometime between the release of his fourth and fifth books, so a year ago, maybe more? He hadn't dated much since then either, and even then they had only ever been halfhearted attempts.
This was moving much more swiftly than he was used to, and while part of him was concerned, most of him was positively itching for more. There was something about Thorin that made him want to get close to him, to really get to know the man.
As they stood to leave, fingers brushed between Bilbo's shoulder blades as Thorin leaned close to whisper, "You do have a fantastic arse, by the way."
Bilbo flushed a deep crimson, entirely unused to such forward or heated compliments about his physic. He wasn't sure how to respond to it, so he simply turned and gave the taller man a quick once over that made those bright blue eyes darken a little, "So do you."
Thorin's cheeks pinked delightfully as Bilbo winked at him before leading the way back towards the entrance. He couldn't help the rather satisfied smile as he heard a deep chuckle behind him. Honestly, it was a good thing he had already began to come to terms with how hopelessly lost he was in the man behind him, otherwise he might have been worried about how desperately he wanted to hear Thorin's laughter - or how badly he needed to be the one to make him laugh.
As they neared the reception counter, Dori stepped out to see them off, a large and vaguely knowing smile spreading across his face, "So, how was everything? Did it live up to your kingly expectations?"
The second question was clearly meant to tease Thorin and Bilbo couldn't help but wonder if he was typically fussy about food. The taller man huffed good-naturedly a bit before answering, "Everything was wonderful, Dori. I am once again floored by your ability to hire such an incredible staff."
As the older man's bright gaze turned on him, Bilbo smiled, "Truly, that was one of the best meals I've had in a very long time. Please pass my compliments on to the chef."
If it was possible, Dori's beamed even brighter, "Oh, good! She will be so pleased to hear that. I thought she was about to have a heart attack when she heard your name."
"Oh dear, I am terribly sorry." He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. Next to him, Thorin made a bit of a confused sound, so Bilbo explained, "My father was a renowned food critic. His opinion could make of break a restaurant, and he did plenty of both."
Thorin was giving him a respectfully thoughtful look, "I had wondered about that when you introduced yourself." At Bilbo's incredulous look, the tall man merely shrugged, "I told you that I read a lot, and Dori's comment about my standards was fairly accurate."
"Oh, good! My favorite place won't be wasted on you." He smiled up at the rather surprised look Thorin was giving him. It was as if he still didn't understand that Bilbo had been very serious when he said that he'd like to go out with him again. It really was endearing, and he felt a surge of fondness for the man sweep through him. All he wanted to do right now was wrap his arms around those broad shoulders, pull him down and kiss him until they were both breathless.
"Alright, you two. Get out of here and enjoy the rest of your evening." Dori's voice cut through Bilbo's thoughts and made him jump a little. Thorin had blushed darkly, and he could feel the answering heat on his own cheeks as he realized they'd been staring at each other. The owner smiled beatifically at them as they gave their farewells and stepped out into the night.
The cool autumn air did nothing to temper his blush, though it did make a shiver dance across his skin. It had been just enough for Thorin to notice and the taller man hesitantly draped an arm across his shoulders. Bilbo took the invitation and tucked himself against Thorin's side, curling an arm around his muscular waist with a contented sound. Trying desperately to ignore the intimacy of the situation, he allowed the incredible amount of heat the other man gave off seep beneath his skin and warm him as they waited for the valet to return.
As the Mercedes pulled up, Thorin seemed reluctant to let him go and kept his hand pressed to Bilbo's mid-back as he handed the valet some cash. Not that he minded; no, he was just as unwilling to lose that little bit of contact, even if it did surprise him. He wondered at how easy it was have such intimacy with the other man when they had really only known each other for a couple of hours.
Thorin still insisted on opening the car door for Bilbo – which was entirely too sweet and made him think the man was a hopeless romantic – before sliding into the driver’s seat and guiding the car down the road. Bilbo contemplated momentarily if holding hands was considered childish at their age, but decided he didn't care and gave into the temptation to rest his hand over Thorin's on the gear lever. After a second of hesitation, his fingers were caught between the other man's thumb and forefinger. A glance to the side revealed the same almost shy smile being directed at him, and Bilbo really couldn't be happier right now.
~-~-+-~-~
Thorin was honestly a little disappointed when they finally pulled onto Bilbo’s street. He had never wanted a date to last like he did this one; had never been so wholly interested in another person that he didn’t think he could ever spend enough time with them. It amazed him how comfortable it had felt to have Bilbo’s smaller frame pressed against his side, or how nice it was to have those soft fingers curled around his palm.
As he pulled up to Bilbo’s home, the grip on his hand tightened briefly. When he looked over at him, the younger man was chewing on his bottom lip and watching him. After a moment, though, he seemed to find his voice, slightly unsteady as it was, “W-would you like some coffee or tea or something? I mean, I’d offer you a glass of wine, but you do still have to drive home.”
It took him a couple of seconds to see the offer for what it really was: an opportunity to spend a little more time together before saying goodnight. An offer he was all to eager to seize, “Some coffee would be wonderful.”
Bilbo beamed at him, a pleasant pink tinting his cheeks, and Thorin did nothing to hinder the grin that split his own face. They both climbed out of the car and he followed the shorter man up the steps to the porch, using the fob to lock his car while Bilbo opened the front door. He got a few glimpses of different rooms as he followed the smaller man down the hall. Everything was very homey, with rich colors on the walls and smooth hardwood floors, though he couldn’t help but smile at the stacks of books that stood on most available surfaces.
The kitchen was near the back of the house and had clearly been designed with entertaining in mind. It was much larger that he would have expected, with an island range and ample amounts of counter space – enough so that a portion of the counter had been turned into a breadboard. He also had to admit that it was one of the most beautiful kitchens he’d ever seen and made a mental note of the layout for potential use later (occupational hazard).
Bilbo moved through it all with practiced efficiency; grinding coffee beans, measuring tea leaves, and heating water, all while humming softly. Thorin leaned his hip against the counter next to the range and took it all in, trying – and failing – not to imagine this exact scene in his own kitchen. Of course, thinking about Bilbo being this comfortable in his home brought up the image of Thorin wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist and pressing kisses to the warm skin of his neck.
It was so unbelievably domestic that something dangerously warm spread through Thorin’s chest. He was just about to stomp down on that traitorous hope, when he recalled the look Bilbo had given him back at the restaurant. Hazel eyes had been suffused with the kind of affection that went far beyond lust, while still holding a carnal kind of promise.
Bilbo also hadn’t completely refused his inadvertent invitation, stating simply that he would have to wait – and wasn’t that a trip. He was used to people only wanting to date him to get into his bed, or for his families wealth, so being informed under no uncertain terms that tonight wasn’t going to end up in the bedroom had him sighing in relief. It allowed him to drop his guard a bit and just enjoy the other man’s presence without having to worry about trying to ward off any advances.
“Alright,” Bilbo’s voice broke through Thorin’s thoughts as the blond turned and brought him a steaming mug, “Taste it and tell me how you want it.”
To some, it may seem like an odd request, but Thorin knew that every coffee roast has a slightly different flavor profile and should be treated a little differently. He took a sip, noting the dark nutty flavor and the bright acidity, sweet enough that it only needed a touch of milk to balance it. When he said as much, Bilbo smiled brightly like he’d passed some kind of test, making Thorin feel absurdly pleased with himself.
Bilbo tugged the mug from his grip, carrying it back to the counter before fetching the milk and adding a splash to Thorin’s coffee as well as to his tea. Thorin smiled as the blond passed him the mug again, “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“My mother would roll over in her grave if any guest was made to lift a finger in this kitchen.” He responded primly, though the wink Bilbo gave him rather ruined it. Thorin gave an amused snort as he followed Bilbo back towards the sitting room, where the smaller man gestured towards two comfy-looking leather armchairs, “Feel free to sit, or look around, or whatever, while I get a fire going.”
The armchairs bracketed a small table with a lamp and were positioned in front of a beautiful stone fireplace with inset bookshelves on either side of it. There were several other bookshelves on other walls, but not much else in the small room. It felt undeniably homey and comfortable, and he could easily see Bilbo sitting in one chair with a book for hours, afternoon sun spilling through the ample windows the house had been designed with.
He moved over to one bookcase when a familiar title caught his eye and continued to peruse the rest of Bilbo’s collection. He found many familiar titles, a rather impressive number of history and literature books, along with a handful of upper level maths books. Thorin even noted, with a modicum of pride, that the trio of architecture books he had were part of the collection that had really inspired Thorin's own work and designs.
His attention was pulled away as Bilbo let out a triumphant sound and he smiled at the blond as he straitened and turned towards him. Bilbo cocked his head to one side, glancing at the books he’d been looking at before smirking lightly, “Trust you to check out all my boring books. Nerd.”
It was said so fondly that Thorin let the name slide with a simple shrug as he moved over to the fireplace. Bilbo settled himself in the chair to Thorin’s left with a purring sigh, completely relaxed as he watched the dancing flames. He looked so peaceful - with a steaming mug cradled between his palms and the warm glow of the fire gilding his features - that Thorin couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight; it even survived Bilbo turning his gaze on him and inquiring, “What?”
Thorin shook his head, “It’s nothing, really. I just… It has been a long time since I have felt this at ease with someone outside my family.”
He’d shocked himself with the frankness of the statement, as well as Bilbo, but he found he really didn’t mind. A blinding grin spread slowly across Bilbo's face - along with a dark blush - and he reached out and snagged Thorin's hand, twining their fingers together as he intoned, "I know precisely how you feel."
A weight he hadn't even noticed lurking in the pit of his stomach vanished, turning instead into the giddy waltz of butterflies. It made him feel years younger and he couldn't have stopped himself from grinning if he'd tried. It was the kind of grin that his sister would tease him endlessly for, and should make him feel embarrassed, but when Bilbo was returning it full force he really couldn’t feel anything but joy.
Bilbo started when a log popped loudly in the hearth, staring at the fire with wide eyes for a moment before devolving into a fit of giggles. Thorin smiled and poked fun at him a bit, even as the conversation flowed to other topics. Without noticing, he’d finished his coffee and somehow managed to place it on the table without letting go of Bilbo’s hand, and the rhythmic sweep of his thumb against the back of Thorin’s hand was the only measure of the time that had elapsed.
By the time he started yawning, Thorin was certain that he’d smiled more in the last few hours than he had in the past year. There was still one lingering question, though, and as Bilbo tried to stifle a yawn of his own behind their joined hands he decided to voice it, “So, earlier you said that your favorite place to eat wouldn’t be wasted one me. What did you mean?”
“Um, well...” The blond blushed a deep crimson, “To be honest, I greatly prefer cooking to eating out, unless there is good company to be found,” Bilbo squeezed his fingers for emphasis, “I mean, lets face it. This is the only place I can have a five course meal in my pajamas!”
The mental image that sprang to his mind was enough to startle a deep laugh out of him, and Thorin would have felt bad if Bilbo wasn’t trying to hide a wide grin of his own, “Have you really eaten a five course meal in your pajamas?”
“In my defense, I was much younger then. Though, I will admit to having prepared and eaten several three course meals in my pajamas in more recent years.” Hazel eyes flicked down to where their hands now rested before meeting his gaze again, something uncertain hidden in their depths, “I could... Well, if your interested, I could cook for you next time.”
He watched Bilbo nibble on his bottom lip, left completely speechless for a moment by the offer. When he finally found his voice, it was suffused with almost childlike wonder, “Really?”
“Mm-hm. A five course meal in pajamas.” He could see the hope and behind the younger man’s gaze, the same hope that resided in his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what to say, but he knew that every moment he stayed silent, Bilbo’s anxiety would grow, so he said the only thing he could come up with, “I would like that very much.”
It was a horribly inadequate way to describe exactly how excited he was, not only to try Bilbo’s cooking, but to simply see the man again. Bilbo smiled brightly at him, though, so Throin hoped he understood, and he tried not to laugh as the smaller man yawned widely again, “Perhaps I should let you get to bed.”
“Ah, ah,” Bilbo wagged a finger at him, cheeky smirk playing at his lips, “Remember, that’s the one rule I won’t break. Not even for you.”
Thorin felt his cheeks burn and his heart beat just a little faster at the implication. He tried to play it off with a raised eyebrow and low voice, but the little smile playing at Bilbo’s lips told him that he’d rather failed, “Tempted?”
He watched the smaller man turn to rest both elbows on the arm of his chair, half standing, half leaning into Thorin’s space as he whispered, “Not that I’d tell you.”
Thorin would be lying if he said that he didn’t growl just a bit at the necessarily sultry tone Bilbo employed. It sent fire racing through his veins to pool low in his stomach, and he had half-a-mind to take him right then and there. Something told him, though, that the wait would make it all the better, and he managed to keep himself controlled, “Then I suppose I will just have to try harder next time.”
Bilbo laughed heartily, and Thorin found himself smiling along, and he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, “Come on, you great lug. I’m afraid that if you stay any longer I may fall to your charms and I have a very important meeting early in the morning.”
He chuckled as he was led from the room, listening to the blond describe just how excited he was for his early meeting with his publisher. He could practically swim in the amount of sarcasm that dripped from Bilbo’s words, and it only made him laugh more. When they reached the front door, Bilbo turned to face him with a small, fond smile. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words, and Thorin could understand the feeling, so he did the only thing that came to mind.
Thorin brought Bilbo’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to his palm, eliciting a soft gasp from the smaller man. He watched, transfixed, as hazel eyes darkened, pupils blown wide at the intimate contact. As Bilbo moved closer Thorin smiled, murmuring against his skin, “Thank you for such a wonderful evening.”
When Thorin released his hand, Bilbo’s fingers brushed across his cheek and traced the line of his jaw before dropping to rest over his heart as the smaller man placed his other hand around Thorin’s hip, “You’re more than welcome. We should do this again sometime soon.”
“You did promise to cook for me.” His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but still easily heard in the quiet, cozy entrance hall. Thorin curled a hand around Bilbo’s waist in an effort to keep him close as he lifted his other hand, brushing a bit of golden fringe back from the smaller man’s forehead. Bilbo leaned into the touch and letting his eyes fall closed as Thorin continued to run his fingers through his downy curls, practically purring, “Mmmm... I did – a full five course meal in our pajamas – and it’s a promise I intend to keep whenever you’d like.”
“I’ll check my calendar and let you know, though I should get your number before I leave.” He was far too entranced by the softness of Bilbo’s curls against his fingers and the heat of his smaller hands branding him through his clothes, and the curve of his smile a temptation Thorin could resist no longer.
His fingers curled around the back of Bilbo’s head, tilting it back ever so slightly while his other arm around his back to pull him nearer. This close, he could smell the lingering traces of his shampoo and the earthiness of his skin – foreign, yet already addictive. He brushed the tip of his nose against Bilbo’s, giving him one finally chance to pull away before pressing their lips together.
Bilbo let out a relieved hum, as if he’d been waiting all evening for Thorin to kiss him. The hand on Thorin’s hip slipping around to the base of his spine while the other moving to curl around the nape of his neck, and the smaller man used them as leverage to lift himself onto the balls of his feet and press himself flush to Thorin’s front.
A sharp nip to his bottom lip had Thorin groaning deep in his throat and he opened up so that Bilbo could press inside. It was glorious and heady in a way he hadn’t felt in years, and Thorin tilted his head just right to deepen the kiss, earning him an unabashed moan from the other man. He couldn’t recall a kiss every feeling so good, or another body that relaxed against his so perfectly – like the other half of a greater whole.
Neither of them were in any hurry to separate and they pulled away slowly, with several more lingering kisses. The taste of tea and Bilbo lingered on his tongue, just a sample, and he knew as they broke apart that he would never be able to get enough. Bilbo buried his nose in Thorin’s neck with a contented sigh, while he nuzzled the top of his curls, allowing a brief moment to regain their lost breath.
After a few moments Bilbo shifted, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, just over Thorin’s still racing pulse, before leaning back to smile up at him, “If that is your goodnight kiss, I think something more passionate might melt me.”
“Then we shall become a puddle of goo together.” He smiled as Bilbo laughed, his head dropping against Thorin’s chest. Once the younger man regained enough composure, they quickly exchanged contact details, and he winced internally at the handful of missed calls and texts from his sister. She would understand his reason for not answering, but he didn’t doubt for a second that she would tease him for it. He could handle a bit of teasing if it meant having such a fantastic evening.
Just before he left, Bilbo pulled him down into another blinding kiss which quickly turned in to several more. Thorin’s lips felt properly abused as he gave his final farewell, and he guessed they were just as bruised as Bilbo’s. The cool night air did nothing to alleviate the heat beneath his skin and he couldn’t stop smiling for anything, not when he had the promise of another wonderful evening with Bilbo to look forward to.