Archive of Our Own

A Bagginshield AU one-shot where Bilbo stares and Thorin stretches.

.

Bilbo fidgeted as he stood on his mat, absently tugging the hem of his shirt. Everyone else around him was wearing actual exercise clothing, from the leggings to the sleeve-less tops, and Bilbo was feeling more out of place in his sweatpants than when he had driven up to the gym.

As much as Bilbo hated the stereotypical New Year's resolution of going to the gym more and losing weight, he found himself neatly fitting into that category. Well, truly he was a little late to the game, as it was now early February, but he fit into it all the same.

Bilbo had always been a curvy sort, as he put food above many other things. Both his parents had been amazing cooks, and Bilbo himself was an avid baker. He never put much thought into how his stomach hung over his pants a tad. Yet over this last winter he had been eating more than usual, and from the unusually cold storms, had not been going out on his daily strolls as often.

It was one thing to sit at a desk nearly all day writing and illustrating, but it was another thing entirely to also snack the day away and end it by sitting in front of the TV to watch some indulgent rom-com.

His neighbor and good friend Hamfast had suggested he try a gym. Bilbo had never been one into sports as he was a gentle soul, even with all his stubbornness. He was hesitant with thoughts about sharing space with others as he huffed and puffed like a sad creature. Yet his neighbor had only laughed, and said that was everyone anyway in one way or another from just starting out or pushing themselves further.

"And you can start slow," Gamgee had said over their low fence between their backyard gardens currently hibernating. "Just do some easy cardio, like a spin class."

Then of course Bilbo had thought about something even easier: maybe stretching? Yes, that would do well to get this cold out of his bones. And yoga was essentially aggressive stretching, if he were to overly-simplify it. Of course Frodo had cheered at his decision, which Bilbo thought a tad hilarious. The boy was in a few sports, football mainly, but just like his uncle he was not very good at them. Never stopped Bilbo from cheering the loudest.

"But you'll be great Uncle Bilbo!" Frodo had cheered, blue eyes bright. "Just show them what us Baggins can do in a tight situation!"

Yet it seemed everyone else about Bilbo was in a tight situation by their clingy wardrobes. When someone went to put a mat down besides's Bilbo's, he jumped when he saw a cheerful smile from a man with a pure white beard and hair to match.

"I haven't seen you before," the man said, and Bilbo realized in a jolt that he was being quite rude with all his silent staring.

"Bilbo Baggins, pleasure to meet you," he hurried to say, sticking out an arm with a hand to shake. He hoped his greeting was not too forward, but it was truly nice to see a kind face in this sea of bodies.

"Balin Fundinson, at yours," the man said as his kind smile widened. "What brings you about this dreadfully early morning?"

Bilbo laughed at that, as he was one of the rare fellows blessed with being a morning person, before saying: "I thought I should try something new. Be adventurous, perhaps."

"Well, if I can do it, so can you," Balin said with a nod.

Bilbo felt his chest lift, and he looked at the man like he was a true friend and not just an open stranger. Even though he had more questions on his tongue, Bilbo was forced to swallow them as the door to the studio opened with a bang.

The man who walked in was a contrast of many things, and Bilbo found himself blinking as his mind tried to make sense of it all. For one thing, he had curled hair that seemed to be tied in a loose braid at the nape of his neck. He had a thick beard, although most of his body seemed just as hairy. There was a clear grimace on his face, and he threw down his matt with a huff. Bilbo did not have much experience with yoga instructors, but he thought they would be happy with all the eternal peace brought by meditation and slow stretches.

Yet the biggest, oddest contrast (past the pink matt) was how he was wearing the brightest neon shorts Bilbo had ever seen. The polyester-made-attack-on-the-eyes was something straight out of an eighty's fashion magazine, with a geometric design of purple triangles over a backdrop of orange. The man seemed tall, and these shorts that only made it to mid-thigh (and even that was stretching it) made him seem even more-so. Bilbo leaned to the side for a different view point and realized that there was even spandex underneath the polyester layer: it was a purple to match the triangles.

Not that the man had anything to be bashful about, as his muscles were visible even from the back of the room that Bilbo was standing at. The plain white t-shirt the man wore (in contrast to the throw-back that were his shorts) was tight and showed off he was just as well-defined in his chest as his legs.

Yet Bilbo did not have much time to wonder as the man barked why everyone was not already doing their warm-up stretches.

"You get used to Thorin," Balin stated beside him as he effortlessly touched his toes.

Bilbo turned from staring at the man that had started pacing impatiently at the front, and nodded to the older man. At least there was one kind face to find here.

.

Bilbo sat on his couch that night with an icepack on either knee. For supposedly being a beginner's class, even that hour and a half had made Bilbo sore enough to welcome a bit of cold in this frozen season for once.

Frodo, the little angle he could be when he wanted to, was in the kitchen preparing some dinner for them. The lad was oddly independent at times, and Bilbo wondered if it was a result from losing his parents so young. Bilbo was always clear about the boy not having to worry about having to earn his keep in his house, but for once he was willing to lie down and let Frodo take care of him.

The lad was blatantly enamored with breakfast foods above all else, so while Bilbo was dully impressed when his seven-year-old came out with yogurt parfaits topped with strawberries and cinnamon, he was not surprised.

Bilbo woke up Wednesday to find he still felt a tad stiff, but better than yesterday. And it had been a pleasant surprise to find just how rewarding it was to eat when he felt like he deserved it. He knew the yoga classes had beginner walk-ins on Monday, Wednesday and Fridays. Bilbo had gone on Monday, and had thought next to go on Friday, but he felt oddly energized when he woke up that mid-week morning.

So off he went to first make Frodo his breakfast, pack his lunch in his Doctor Who themed tin, and remind the boy yet again he had to walk to the bus stop with Sam like every morning. Then Bilbo popped into his little car and drove the short fifteen-minutes to the gym. Thankfully the snow was not so bad today, as Bilbo was a somewhat awful driver when black ice was involved.

He jogged into the room, eyes intent to find Balin, and spotted the white in only a moment. After the first lesson Bilbo had continued chatting with the man as they rolled up their matts and meandered back to their cars. Bilbo liked the slow, meaningful way Balin talked, and the older gentlemen seemed to similarly enjoy Bilbo's energy.

"So you decided to return," Balin said in greeting, giving a pat on Bilbo's back for good measure.

"Yes, well," Bilbo stuttered to say, humbled by Balin's warm welcome, "I thought it wasn't so bad."

"Thorin scares off at least half the people that come in," Balin said with a sigh. "Why, he nearly made this poor woman cry once. Her fault, really, as she wasn't even trying to do the pose right. Still, it gave Thorin no excuse to cast the lady out."

"Oh my," Bilbo said in nerves, gripping his rented matt tightly to his chest.

"Don't worry!" Balin reassured with a laugh. "You did just fine the other day. You'll only get better, and if you're trying, Thorin can't really argue with you."

"Alright," Bilbo said, wiggling his toes inside his shoes and not waiting until he could take them off.

This time Bilbo and Balin started doing their warm-up stretches as they got more acquainted with each other. Bilbo learned that Balin was a lawyer soon to be retired, while Bilbo said he wrote books and had a small boy distantly related and adopted. Just when Balin was mentioning he had a younger brother, so could fully relate to Bilbo's wonderings over why young boys did what they did, the door creaked open.

Bilbo noticed that this time Thorin had a black mat, and wondered if he had borrowed the other one. It would make sense that someone as ridiculously good looking as him would have a girlfriend. Bilbo also noted he was still wearing neon, just this time it was a mix of thin, wavy yellow lines over green. Bilbo's eyes narrowed as he wondered if they were shorter than the ones before.

.

Bilbo had been going to yoga for three times a week for a month and a half now. Winter was finally gone, and Bilbo could practically feel the tulips underground ready to explode out in so-bright-it-looked-plastic jubilation. No longer did Bilbo have to worry about entertaining Frodo indoors, as the lad could freely explore their backyard and neighborhood park with Sam once again, or pop over to his friends on the other side of the road.

Even though it was now warm enough to do things outside, Bilbo still found himself heading to the gym every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning. He could admit part of it was to prove his relatives wrong (who thought Bilbo could not keep this up), and another part because he just had to see what Thorin would wear the next time.

It honestly seemed the man had an infinite amount of neon clothes. It was like he was a charitable company all by himself who took in unwanted fashions from decades past to give them a new home and purpose. Bilbo had thought he had seen everything when Thorin had come in wearing shorts with a tie-dye rainbow design that radiated out from his crotch. Bilbo had thanked every God above for that layer of loose polyester over the spandex even more so then. It would have been too much for his fragile disposition to attractive men if the shorts had been solely spandex.

In that time Bilbo had also become fast friends with Balin, and Oin and Bombur when they came around as well. Apparently they were all distant relatives to each other, but they acted like good friends if anything. The retired doctor was a tad difficult to talk to from his bad hearing, but Bombur as a chef was all too happy to talk about ingredients and recipes with Bilbo. Apparently his wife and horde of offspring were pushing him to get healthier. Bilbo could admit his own belly seemed just a pebble in comparison to Bombur's that must have been multiple stones.

Now weeks later Bilbo felt like he could do the poses in time and order in his sleep. It was a comfort, and now he could easily touch his toes, or really any part of his body without discomfort. Bilbo did not think he had been this nimble even when he was a child.

Sure he had shed some pounds, but Bilbo overall felt a lot healthier and stronger. He still had a decent amount of pudge like he was sure he always would, but he simply felt better. Lighter and more sure of himself above all else. He found himself focusing more on that then the number on the scale in his bathroom.

Bilbo was just rolling up his maroon mat (he had finally indulged and bought one instead of borrowing the gym's boring blue ones) and was chatting easily with Balin. They were long over-due for a cafe meet up. Yet his friend stopped and stared at something over Bilbo's shoulder suddenly, causing Bilbo to turn and see what was the matter.

Thorin seemed to be it, as he loomed over Bilbo with his impressive height. His arms were crossed, and Bilbo tried not to stare at the cords of muscles in his forearms. That, or his abs that were just visible through his tight white t-shirt.

"Mr. Baggins," Thorin said, voice deep.

"Y-Yes?" Bilbo asked in a stutter.

While he was used to Thorin barking orders about getting into downward dog, it was something entirely different to actually hear his gravely voice used in normal conversation.

"You will now come to the classes on Tuesdays and Thursday mornings. Same time, same place."

Bilbo opened his mouth to reply, but then his instructor was already turning away. As disappointing as that first conversation between them had been, there was something so oddly entrancing about watching polyester neon curve and move with that backside.

"Why, a promotion it seems!" Balin said with a warm clap on Bilbo's shoulder. "You're up to Level 1-2 quicker than any other I've known."

"Is that what that was?" Bilbo asked in a jump. "And what do you even mean by 'Level 1-2?' I was unaware yoga was similar to video games. If I continue, will I unlock more achievements?"

"Call it Experienced Beginner then, if it makes you feel any better," Balin said with a half-hearted laugh. "And this is good! You can meet some of my other cousins now."

"How many cousins do you have?" Bilbo asked, brow furrowed. Sure, he had a large extended family as well, but unlike Balin, he did not see them weekly or do yoga together.

"I'll leave that for you to find out," Balin said with a laugh louder than the one before. "But not to worry, I'll be there as well!"

.

Bofur, Bifur and Dori it seemed were at Level One-dash-Two. Bilbo was introduced to them as 'Bombur's brother,' a 'mute toymaker,' and 'The Strongest Man you'll ever meet.' Yes, Bilbo could easily distinguish the capitalization from Balin.

They were all a great group, and Bilbo found himself easily fitting along with them. Bilbo found he missed having yoga three times a week, so he still went to the beginner lessons every Friday. He though he deserved the treat after a long week of rushing Frodo off to school and trying to make his editor happy. That, and it allowed him to eat all the sweets he wanted on the weekend without feeling guilty.

In this class, Thorin still seemed like his usual brash character as in the beginner's one. He snapped and pushed people, and if anything demanded more from the higher level. The first day Bilbo had faltered a little bit in nerves, but Bofur had just helped him along and put him right back on track. Thorin had given him a passing glance before huffing and turning back to straighten another's leg in their Balancing Stick Pose. Bilbo felt a spike of pride. Clearly he had straightened out enough after getting up from his slight tumble that he did not need the same courtesy.

Soon Bilbo realized that he wanted to do something on the other two mornings he had off, and so consulted with the schedule board about what to do. Balin suggest swimming like he did sometimes, but Bilbo immediately shook that thought away. Still, Hamfast's idea of a cardio workout did not seem so daunting anymore.

He was definitely not going to start sweating away on a treadmill though. He still did his afternoon walks with Frodo, and those strolls were fine enough. But when his eyes caught on something about a spin class, his interest was perked. Just like with the yoga classes, he looked for when there would be a low-intensity level class, and found there was one on Monday and Friday afternoons. Well, it would make his Friday long, but he would just think of it as a final push to get to the weekend. And it would end at a near perfect time to welcome Frodo home after a quick shower.

Bilbo found himself that Friday entering the same gym for the second time that day. This time he decided to wear shorts instead of his sweatpants, and was wearing a faded, old band t-shirt probably from his teenage days. It had been the only dark one he could find, as Bilbo expected he would be sweating a lot and did not want anyone to immediately notice it.

He nearly went down the hallway for the yoga classes on instinct, but managed to find his way to the new room with five minutes to spare. This time when Bilbo entered he was not so scared to try something new. He chose one of the bikes to the left, and put his bottle in its holder, before he went about doing a few stretches to limber up.

When he glanced back at the clock, he saw that the instructor was a few minutes late. Not that Bilbo was so demanding, as ten quid for an hour was not a bad price indeed. Still, it was odd to be intimidated again by the participants than the instructor. At least it gave him ample time to adjust the seat on his bike down. Whoever had been using it last had ridiculous long legs, as clearly Bilbo was not ridiculously short.

Finally, after Bilbo glanced a the clock and saw it was now eight minutes, the door opened in a flourish. Bilbo jumped a tad on his bike as he watched a tall, pale man walk in. He was wearing a snug silver tank-top and tight bike shorts that had a florescent turquoise stripe on either thigh. (What was it with this gym's instructors and neon?) He also had long, beautiful blonde hair that was nearly platinum. It definitely shined enough to resemble the metal.

He introduced himself as Thranduil (definitely a fancy enough name to match the persona) before he stood by the sole bike that was facing the opposing direction to all the others. Bilbo straightened when the man's crystal eyes trailed over his momentarily, but it only lasted a moment before the man was calling everyone to start warming up. In the hand that was not holding his golden tumbler, Thranduil put down a portable speaker and fussed for a moment with the iPod connected to it.

Bilbo smiled as the familiar chords and lyrics for Tove Lo's 'Like Em Young' started blasting from speaker. Than the lithe man was jumping on his bike as well and starting the class in a sprint that had Bilbo struggling to catch up.

After an hour, Bilbo felt both relieved this challenge had been completed, but also dread at how his legs felt like jelly when he dismounted his bike. It took a moment to get feeling back, and he grabbed a towel to wipe at his brow. Good thing indeed he had a couple days to recover before getting back to yoga.

He was just about to walk out of the gym, legs still more than just a tad wobbly, when his eyes caught on shiny neon and hairy legs. If Bilbo thought himself sweaty, it was nothing compared to how Thorin's white shirt was see-through with perspiration.

Bilbo froze as his eyes finished their ascent up Thorin's figure to see the man was already staring at him with a thick eyebrow raised. Bilbo straightened, and forgot all about his uneasy legs as his heart decided to become weak.

"Nice t-shirt," Thorin said in greeting.

Bilbo stared and sputtered for a moment before until he managed to get out: "You know them?"

Thorin snorted, and put a hand to his hip before he said: "Mr. Baggins, Spinal Tap is not some indie band made last week."

Bilbo was struggling to think of a response when a familiar flash of blonde and turquoise went by. He was not the only one to note Thranduil's presence, as Thorin turned to the man with a grimace.

"Oh, stop with the animalistic frothing at the mouth like we're going to war against the other," the blonde man said with a dramatic flip of his pony-tail. Then he oddly enough turned to Bilbo and said: "I hope to see you next Friday as well. It was nice having a fresh face in the crowd."

The man gave a wink to Bilbo before leaving, which Bilbo was glad for as the two instructors made him feel like a tree stump with their impressive heights. Thranduil seemed a few inches taller than Thorin, which Bilbo thought near impossible for most.

"You went to his class?"

Thorin's snarl made Bilbo turn back to him, and he nearly took a step back at the animosity found in those startling blue eyes.

"I thought to try something different," Bilbo said, and then added as his spine straightened: "And it's not like I chose him over my classes with you."

Thorin frowned, and then said: "Maybe if you dedicated yourself more, you would be in my Bikram class I just finished."

Bilbo frowned, and tried to remember if he had ever heard that word before. Yet his mind was blanking at what it curtailed, and it seemed Thorin could read his confusion. Maybe it reminded the man how how much a novice Bilbo was (he had only started roughly three months ago!) as he deflated and shook his hair. Bilbo noted that his curls were even more pronounced from his sweat.

Thorin left him then with a wave, and Bilbo gave a vocalized parting about seeing him on Tuesday. As he watched Thorin walk away in bright blue shorts, Bilbo thought it was a long time in the future.

That night Bilbo googled 'Bikram Yoga' and found that it was more colloquially known as 'Hot Yoga.' At least it explained why it seemed Thorin had accidentally showered with his clothes on. Not that Bilbo had minded much how his t-shirt clung to his chest and stomach.

.

Bilbo enjoyed his exercise routine, and soon enough he saw more benefits coming up. When he began to wear his Summer pants that had been buried away for a good half year, he found they fit loose and he had to tighten his braces.

Now when he got out of the shower he took a moment to look at his naked body. True, his feet were still a tad larger than normal (not that that would ever change), but he was slimmer than he had ever been before. There was actual definition in his legs when he flexed, and his stomach did not stick out as much. He was obviously not thin, but Bilbo smiled and patted his own back in contentment.

As much as Thorin had initially shown distain for the spin instructor, Bilbo enjoyed going. After a couple weeks, he found himself acclimated to going once a week that he decided to fit in another. There was one on Monday mornings by a cousin of Thranduil named Elrond, which Bilbo thought was perfect. Until, well, he found out that he often bumped into Thorin going to his Level One yoga class.

It had only happened a handful of times, but still the cold glance he received from Thorin as he went right and Bilbo went left down the hallway was like a thrown knife.

Yet Thorin was sorely lacking in real-life knowledge if he thought he was the only stubborn individual in this world. If anything, his snobbish attitude towards Bilbo going to cycling classes just pushed Bilbo to succeed more at his Level Two yoga classes Thorin had just recently bumped him up to. Now he could go through all poses without fumbling or breaking. He made sure to look at himself in the mirrors lining the room to make sure he was straight and sure, or curved when he needed to be.

His work was not overlooked, as Bofur commended him that in the short month he had started this class he had easily flown to the top. Bilbo was just glad he along with Dori were in these classes as well.

For all purposes, Bilbo thought that adding all this time away from his house would have him slacking in his books and series. Instead it gave the man more energy, and he often found that while he had less hours, he used them better. No longer did he putter about his home aimlessly like in mornings past. Now he got home from a workout, took an indulgent long, hot shower, and then set about his desk with a nice cuppa and playlist of tunes. While he had always enjoyed singing on blast to radio hits, Thranduil had rekindled a love for pop and catchy tunes he had not had since a young lad.

His editor was especially excited about Bilbo's new watercolor book that would have stunning full-page spreads. It was to be about a small child getting lost in the woods and happening upon a mid-summer party of elves and faeries. It was silly, and the story simple, as it would be the illustrations that would sell the book. Bilbo was just in the process of illustrating the character designs for all the elves, and had to catch him a couple times from using Thranduil and Elrond as examples.

So Bilbo was having an easy time in life, and was eating his cake. Well, he always ate his cake before, but this time he felt like he was actually earning it.

And maybe it was a sign that something really had changed when he went to a sports store and bought some new clothes. As much as he enjoyed Thorin silently judging all his old band t-shirts, there was only so many times he could wear them before they became truly threadbare.

So of course when everything was going fine that would be when everything would change.

This Thursday afternoon was like any other, with Bilbo laughing at whatever joke Bofur had decided to sprout, when Thorin approached their merry little group of five. This was not uncommon, as Thorin often had something to mutter about to Balin, or any of his other distant cousins that came to this higher level every now and then. So Bilbo did not think much of the neon approaching closer, until he was practically pressed into Bilbo's side.

The shorter man jumped away, thinking that a simple greeting would have sufficed instead of just standing close and assuming.

"The next step," Thorin said with a nod. "Monday, Wednesday, and Saturdays. Tell him the hours, Dori."

Bilbo opened his mouth to reply, and maybe argue that what if his hours were not the most flexible in the world? What if he had a life outside of really attractive yoga instructors, whose behind looked like the ninth-world wonder even when covered in sickening, shiny red? But Thorin did not give him the change as he turned on his heel and marched out. Bilbo watched him go, grinding his teeth in frustration.

"Good for you, Bilbo!" Dori said with a hard clap on his shoulder. "I'll be able to introduce you to my brothers then!"

So that was how Bilbo was included in the Thorin-invitation-only class for those who were a little more serious about yoga. Bilbo thought himself a spy, or some sort of thief, in how he had infiltrated into a place that he clearly did not belong. He should have at least had a few more months of easy yoga here before jumping to the next level of Two-dash-Three.

In his nerves, Bilbo came earlier than intended. It was a Saturday mid-morning, and Bilbo was happy that Gamgee his agreed to take Frodo with Sam to the Farmer's Market. Bilbo would miss getting his own fresh produce, but that was his own fault for indulgently sleeping in after yesterday's busy day.

There was only two mats and lean figures here. One had long, fiery red hair, while the other had a head of light blonde. They both had their hair pulled back in braids, and when they turned to look at him Bilbo nearly gaped in shock. It was clear the blonde one had some relation to Thranduil.

Bilbo gave a meek 'hullo' and wave before he went to get his own mat out. He began absently stretching, all the while trying not to stare too hard at the two youths. They seemed to be in their twenties, although their striking faces made them seem older. It was hard to determine if the girl was related to the lad or maybe just close friends with him.

"You must be Bilbo!"

Bilbo lifted his head from his knee and jumped as he found four faces peering down at him in interest. One had an impressive beard Bilbo was instantly jealous of, another with too many freckles to try counting, and the remaining pair seemed younger than the other two across the room. Dori could be seen behind them already putting his mat down.

"Yes, at your service," Bilbo said as he stood in a rush and offered a hand.

The one with the freckles grinned wide before using the hand not holding his green mat to shake Bilbo's hand. Then he said enthusiastically: "My name's Ori Rison, you've already met my older brother Dori. Nori here is my other older brother."

"Pleasure," Bilbo said, feeling himself smile from the way the thin man's grin was infectious.

Yet before Bilbo could shake Nori's hand, or properly greet the other man (and commend him on such an amazing beard and man-bun), the other two impatiently pushed Ori aside to stand directly before Bilbo. He realized that while their grins were identical, their colorings were anything but. One was tall (and a bit gangly) with long dark hair that was down with brown eyes; the other was shorter and stalkier, with blonde hair tied back and a blue gaze.

"Fíli-

"-and Kíli!"

Bilbo nodded, thinking that they must be brothers if their names were so similar.

"Uncle has told us about you!" the blonde one, Fíli Bilbo reminded himself, said with a smirk. It caused the fuzz that made up his mustache to twitch.

Bilbo wanted to nod politely in agreement, but honestly he had no idea what this teenager was talking about. Yet thankfully Bilbo did not have to worry about it much, as both Kíli and Fíli were pulled back by their shirts by none-other than Thorin.

Seeing them all together, even as Fíli and Kíli pouted and Thorin glared, made Bilbo realize that Thorin was the uncle the boys had just mentioned.

(Thorin talked about him?! The man barely gave Bilbo a passing snort on his most giving days.)

"I let you come because your Mum needs a moment to catch her breath from all the yelling," Thorin said with a frown, "But that does not mean I'll tolerate you ruining my class or bothering my customers. You know better than that."

They muttered apologies at the same time and Thorin let go of them with a huff to walk to the front of the class. Like the few other times before, he had a pink mat under his arm.

"He grabbed Mum's instead again," Bilbo heard Fíli mutter to Kíli.

"Actually I gave that one to him this morning and he just didn't notice," Kíli muttered back. "You know how he's practically a walking meat-bag before his coffee."

Bilbo decided that it was probably best to stick with the Risons than try and combat Thorin's chuckling nephews. Except they obviously did not share the idea, as they put their mats on either side of Bilbo's.

Yet Bilbo was oddly happy Fíli and Kíli decided to stick to him once the class was over. He would have definitely gotten lost and useless a few times without the brothers' help. They always stopped their own stretches to get up and help Bilbo, hands large but gentle as they adjusted him on the more advanced contortions. In a way, Bilbo wondered just why Thorin thought he was ready for the Two-dash-Three level instead of staying at the comfortable Two for a bit more. But who was Bilbo to question a trained instructor?

Once it was done and they had gone through their last breathing exercise, Bilbo was still so exhausted he threw himself down on his mat and decided not to get up for a good few minutes.

"So, you're Thorin's nephews?" Bilbo asked out slowly, thinking it only right to talk to them after they had helped him along so much. Always with a cheery smile on their handsome faces.

"Yep!" Fíli answered first. "Our Mum is his younger sister! Has he never mentioned us before?"

"Well, Thorin has said about forty words in total to me," Bilbo said with a frown, wondering if it was sad that he actually had the exact number in his head. That and how many times he had watched Thorin do downward dog and then bend up into upward or cobra.

Kíli frowned at that, and tilted his head at Fíli. The blonde only gave an equally puzzled look in return, and it was clear that they were communicating in an effortless way only the closest of siblings could.

"Well, Uncle Thorin talks about you," Kíli supplied. "Nearly always has something to say about you after a lesson. From your weird taste in music to how silly the hair on your feet looks."

"Sometimes he rants, too," Fíli jumped in to add. "Something about you betraying him for spin classes?"

This had Bilbo blinking in shock up to the ceiling before sitting up with a start. They had mentioned it before, but if they were bringing it up again with specifics, they must actually be serious.

"Excuse me?" Bilbo asked.

But it was all for nothing, as Fíli and Kíli were already darting away to follow behind Thorin. Ori and his older brothers seemed to be long gone, and Bilbo found in shock that he was once again left alone with the two lanky youths from before.

"You get used to them," the redhead said as she came to stand by Bilbo and offer him a hand up. "I'm Tauriel by the way."

"Bilbo Baggins," Bilbo responded before taking her hand and absolutely not sputtering when she effortlessly pulled him up. Clearly she was much stronger than her slight frame showed.

"Are you, ah, Thranduil's daughter?" Bilbo asked hesitantly.

"Adopted," Tauriel answered with a shrug. "This Blonde Bombshell here is the one with the passed down genetics and taste for wine."

"Legolas, as every other normal person calls me," he said as he joined them, and Bilbo found that he had also inherited his father's height with his hair and eyes.

"It's nice to meet you," Bilbo said with a nod.

"These classes are small, so I thought I might as well introduce us before it got weeks in and awkward," Tauriel said with a gentle smile that made her look much younger.

"Not like your nickname is the Queen of Awkward or anything," Legolas said with a light jab at her ribs with his elbow.

Bilbo naturally laughed as they pushed at each other while they walked out, leaving him to roll up his own mat and finally get on with the rest of his weekend. He had his frozen bags of peas to unite with at home, and a few episodes of whatever on Netflix. Because as much as he learned to enjoy exercise, this class had been a tad more brutal than he had expected.

.

Bilbo found that even with Frodo out at Summer, it was possible to still squeeze his classes in. Of course it helped that there were activities for the little lad to do at the gym when he got bored being outside with Sam, or seeing his other friends Merry and Pippin across the street.

Except sometimes Bilbo found himself the one waiting for Frodo, as he was now after his Thursday yoga. Even though it had been a month since starting the new advanced class, he was still getting all the new stretches and poses under his belt. On his nights off he often found himself practicing in front of his mirror at home.

It seemed somewhere along the lines of getting moderately in shape, Bilbo had gotten into a silent battle with Thorin. At least Bilbo thought they were having some sort of competition. Each lesson Thorin pushed Bilbo more, and each time Bilbo refused to break or backdown and tried to rise to his instructor's expectations. He did not know if Thorin was doing this purposefully, and had advanced him so quickly through the levels because he believed in Bilbo, or just wanted to see him give up. It was probably the later by the way Thorin stared, clearly just biding his time before Bilbo got up and left with a huff.

Sighing, Bilbo let his head hit the back of the wall and slumped a bit to let his back press against the wall to take his weight off his legs. For having his back straight and pose perfect for a good hour and a half, he thought he deserved a moment to give into bad habits.

"Waiting for someone?"

Bilbo snapped to attention at that rough voice, and he opened his eyes and looked up to see Thorin. Except for once he was not wearing ridiculously tiny shorts with silly patterns. No, he was wearing dark-washed jeans with a blue plaid button-down. With the beard and long face he nearly looked like a lumberjack, and Bilbo wanted to slap him at making it seem so stupidly attractive. (Yes, Bilbo would totally watch him chop wood for hours at their secluded cottage up some random mountainside. He would give up his smartphone reception and internet for that.)

Especially when Bilbo was still sitting in his own sweat and yoga clothes. He had let the tiny ponytail at the base of his neck go, and he was sure his curls were ridiculous and wild like an unsheared sheep.

Bilbo opened his mouth, but he was interrupted as a little someone barreled into his side. It nearly caused Bilbo to topple over, and he thought he saw Thorin dart a hand out, only to retract his offer before he touched Bilbo.

"Guess what?" Frodo asked as he pulled at Bilbo's shirt. "Pippin came to play football with us today!"

"That's great, love," Bilbo said with a laugh. "Frodo, boy, can I introduce you to Thorin here?"

Bilbo gave a crooked grin to Thorin, hoping he would indulge a child even if he did anything but to adults. Thorin seemed to give an assessing glance back up at Bilbo before offering a large hand for Frodo to shake. The boy giggled as he reached up and shook Thorin's hand seriously.

"Your father is getting quite good in my classes," Thorin said lowly as Frodo let go.

"Uh, actually, I'm his uncle," Bilbo rushed to say, laying a supportive hand on Frodo's shoulder. The boy had been so sensitive and mute for the longest time. When his parents were mentioned he closed himself off more than a barnacle above water.

"Uncle Bilbo adopted me!" Frodo cheered.

This had Thorin blinking, and Bilbo almost wanted to laugh at the befuddled expression he had now. Clearly he did not know what to say, as his eyebrows only continued to furrow.

"Frodo, why don't you go get yourself one of those sports drinks that are terrible for you, hm?" Bilbo asked as he handed over a two-pound coin.

The dark-haired boy squealed happily before taking the thick coin in his little hand and running for the vending machine.

"Sorry about that," Bilbo said, not knowing what boundaries were right to cross with one's yoga teacher. Sure, it was one thing to give words of parting, but another entirely to introduce him to his adoptive son.

"No, it's- it's fine," Thorin said with a shake of his head, as if dispelling some ridiculous notion he had in there. "You have to deal with my nephews enough."

Bilbo gaped, and then giggled, because: "Was that a joke?"

Thorin shrugged his shoulders, and Bilbo missed how he could not see muscles move like usual with the short-sleeves Thorin always wore.

"I meant to tell you after the lesson," Thorin said as he took a step closer that had Bilbo pressed back against the wall again. "If you want to try some Hot Yoga, just tell me."

"I- uh- really?" Bilbo asked in a start. "You don't think I should first get the hand of Level Two-dash-Three or whatever silly name you call it?"

"Just get to Level Three so you can stop complaining then," Thorin said with a roll of his eyes.

"Maybe I'll just downgrade to Level One and let my skills rot away," Bilbo countered with a smirk. From spin classes and leveling up, Bilbo had decided to keep a lesson instead at Level Two instead of One. He still got to see Balin and Bofur, which was a huge plus.

"Having you there would be a welcome relief from some of the buffoons I have to deal with," Thorin said with a snort.

This had Bilbo's laughter dying in his throat, because had this unreal man just admitted he enjoyed his company? The stoic, can-curdle-milk-in-one-glance Thorin saying that Bilbo maybe was not some naïve bother stuck under his pinky toenail?

"Anyways," Thorin said with a cough and a step back, "I should get going. Fíli and Kíli are waiting in the car, and I stupidly agreed to let Fíli drive us home."

"Yes, I should think you should get that hurdle done as soon as possible," Bilbo said, swallowing down his own urge to smile or maybe vomit everywhere in nerves.

"See you Tuesday?" Thorin asked, eyebrows raised.

"Definitely," Bilbo said, smile stretching wide over his face for no good reason at all.

Thorin's blue eyes stayed stuck to his for a moment more before he nodded and turned away, slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking out of the gym with his hands stuffed in his pockets. If his butt was attractive in neon shorts, it was absolutely dangerous in jeans. With his dark wardrobe, the slight silver at his temple stood out more attractively than usual.

"Uncle Bilbo! I got you lemon, your favorite!"

Bilbo blinked and looked away from Thorin's retreating figure to see that Frodo had arrived, and indeed was offering a radioactive-yellow drink to Bilbo. He himself seemed to have something blue, and Bilbo was sure his mouth was already the same unnaturally bright color as the drink.

.

Bilbo stared at himself in the mirror wearing his favorite waistcoat and realized in a start he would have to get it taken in. Somewhere along the way of doing yoga for almost a year now he had lost a few inches on his sides. Maybe he should go buy himself some new trousers as well instead of just holding up his old ones with a belt or braces. A lot had changed since last winter.

He supposed that was something that happened when you went to yoga four times a week, as well as spin class twice. Thranduil had it set in his mind that Bilbo could easily step up to another level, but he was just as adamant that cycling had always just been a side project.

And he felt like he was finally getting the hang of this new level of yoga. No longer did Kíli or Fíli need to come to his aid. Ori gushed that he was clearly a flexible natural, as it had taken him a full year to step up from Level Two to this. Bilbo wanted to say it was probably because the lad was naturally clumsy and a total bean-pole, but he liked his fast friendship with Ori quite a lot. So he did not say anything about it.

Before Bilbo had gone solo to draw and write his own books, he had worked as a librarian just as Ori did now. When he had told Ori this, they had both laughed before spinning off into horror stories of somehow losing that one book and having it requested the next day. They also always seemed to get lost talking about the horrid sci-fi and fantasy series they had devoured in their youths.

"What are you doing over the holidays next week anyway?" Ori asked as he shouldered on at least three layers of knits when the arrived at the gym's entrance. "We always host a huge party at our house. You can meet everyone else in the family. Well, extended family in a way. Dori's father was the one with the Durin connection."

"Oh, well, I would love to, but I have my lad Frodo to worry about."

"I didn't know you had a son, Bilbo," Fíli said, popping over his right shoulder. Bilbo noticed the blue hood of his sweatshirt brought the color out of his eyes more.

"You don't have a ring," Kíli said as well, of course appearing at his other shoulder. He was also wearing a blue sweatshirt with the hood up. Bilbo realized they were matching because it was clearly from their same school by the large design in the middle.

"No matter, bring him along," Dori said as he zipped up his bulky winter coat. "We had to deal with those two bumbling about. Not to mention Bombur has eight children, a couple younger than your Frodo I have no doubt."

"We're all used to looking where we step for little dwarflings," Nori added as he zipped up his leather jacket, being careful not to catch his beard.

Bilbo bit his lip, contemplating. It was not as if he had never spent time with them outside of the gym. He sometimes met Balin for tea after a class, and he had gone out and drunken more than just one pint with Bofur and Nori. Not to mention how he visited Ori's library when he just wanted a quiet place away from home to read and research. Why, Fíli and Kíli would have dragged them to their school if it was allowed. Although Bilbo had no desire to go back to those days of trying to figure himself out in such chaos that was called Teenage Hormones.

"Uncle Thorin will be there," Kíli teased as he pinched at Bilbo's ribs.

"And Mum and Uncle Frerin!" Fíli said in jovial manner. "She's been asking about you for months now. If anything you'll be relieving Uncle Thorin of a headache."

Bilbo frowned, thinking once again Fíli and Kíli were teasing him over how apparently Thorin actually talked about him. Which was impossible of course, as if there was anything that Thorin did, it was just stare at him with a frown. It made Bilbo lose his balance and calm every time. He was sure that if he did not do his breathing exercises with his eyes closed, Bilbo would never find peace in the lessons.

So that was how Bilbo found himself walking up to an impressive house a good forty-minute walk away from his own home. Bilbo would have driven, but he was sure he would have more than a couple drinks. While it was hilarious to watch a tipsy person walk, it was anything but to watch them drive. And Frodo loved the snow falling down all around (quite different to his reaction around large bodies of unfrozen water), so it easily distracted the boy from the chill.

Feeling like maybe this was a mistake, and he should have just gone to the Gamgees on Christmas Eve like usual, Bilbo straightened his scarf and hat bravely before marching up the steps with Frodo's mittened hand in his. He knocked, and together they waited a moment for the door to open.

Only to reveal Thorin wearing a Santa hat with a pair of elf ears attached, as well as the ugliest Christmas sweater Bilbo ever had the morbid pleasure of laying eyes on. It was two cats playing with presents under a tree while the tree itself was lit up with tiny, twinkling white lights. At the collar, in cursive bright red thread, it read: 'Meowy Catsmas.'

Thorin seemed to blink and stare for a long while before Frodo got impatient and bolted between his legs to get inside.

"Now I see why Fíli and Kíli were so insistent about getting me dressed like this," Bilbo heard Thorin mutter down to his house slippers.

"Not to be rude but, ah, are you going to let me in?" Bilbo asked, feeling the ice of winter through his layers after such a long walk. "I'm not small enough to fit so easily between your legs."

Thorin sputtered for a moment before stepping aside, finally letting Bilbo in and able to close the door behind them. Bilbo looked in, and immediately heard the ruckus and laughter of a crowd. That, and the smell of delicious food in the air. Clearly Bombur and his wife had been busy.

A man with a massive red beard (and mohawk, oh goodness) that was going white exclaimed as he passed: "Mistletoe dear cousin!"

Bilbo stared after the jovial man in confusion, who just winked, and then looked up to realize: "Oh. He's right."

Thorin himself was looking at the cluster of green leaves and white berries like it was a plague. Which Bilbo supposed it was, being a poisonous vine that sucked the life out of other trees and all that.

"Look, I'll allow you a Christmas miracle, and say just one on the forehead?" Bilbo said, hoping to nip this horrid silence right away before it got ridiculous and his blush got any worse.

This seemed to finally jolt Thorin from his stupor. The tall man gave a grave nod, before lowering his head quite a bit to brush his rough lips against Bilbo's curls. Bilbo only had a moment to feel the rasp of that thick beard, and wonder just what else this night had for him, before Thorin pulled away.

"Come meet my sister," Thorin said, although it sounded more like a demand than request.

"Can I put my coat away first?" Bilbo asked, wondering if Thorin was this welcoming to all his guests.

"Right, of course," Thorin said, and then proceeded to take the coat off of Bilbo. Like this was some pathetic primary-school date where chivalry was not dead in the rush to grow up. Or maybe like one of those American eighties romance films done right; it would match Thorin's fascination with neon.

Thorin gave a crooked smile, and as rugged as it made him look, Bilbo's eyes could not help but dart to the hat and fake ears again. The dark-haired man caught on, and he took it off and threw it in the closet without a care. Then Thorin went a step further and dramatically tried to get off his sweater.

Only it got caught around his shoulders, and if Bilbo was not so interested in the slip of stomach visible from his button-up caught as well (and oh, hello treasure trail), Bilbo would do the polite thing and help. Instead he just watched Thorin struggle like the horrible person he was for a moment more before ridding himself of the sweater.

"That's the last time I agree for the sake of holiday cheer," Thorin said as he threw the sweater even further in the closet. "They should burn whatever thrift shop that was found in."

Bilbo tried to mask his laugh with a cough, but he was sure it was a failed attempt. He diverted his eyes away from Thorin, giving him the privacy needed to straighten his white shirt and tuck it back in his black slacks, before looking back.

"Come," Thorin said as he brushed aside some of his down hair over his shoulder. Bilbo wondered how he could stand the length, as Bilbo's own barely touched his shoulders and it often got on his nerves.

As Bilbo wandered down the front hallway behind Thorin, his immediate thought was that this house was absolutely giant and gorgeous. Clearly the structure was old with its tall door frames and weathered wooden floors. He should ask one of the brothers how long they had been living here.

Soon enough they came to the kitchen, and Bilbo blinked at how large and effortlessly it seemed to blend in with a dining room (which had a very long table). Thorin did not stop, so Bilbo only gave waves and greetings to the familiar faces before they went into a den adjoined where they would obviously have dinner.

First Bilbo took notice of Frodo, who was in the lap of a woman with very pretty golden hair. Hair that exactly matched Fíli's as he sat next to her, with Kíli on her other, as they both began asking questions Frodo was all too happy to answer. Bilbo realized in dread many of them were about him.

"Uncle Bilbo is the best artist ever!" Frodo exclaimed, "He did all my favorite books!"

"I thought you said you did literature," Thorin said with a frown.

"I said I wrote books," Bilbo corrected. "And I do, they're just children's books."

Thorin nodded, and suddenly Bilbo realized he had told that bit of information first to Ori, and then Fíli and Kíli when they had asked, but not to Thorin himself. Hot damn, did the man truly ask about him?

"Dís," Thorin said as they made their presence know.

The woman turned away from Frodo, and Bilbo had just a moment to realize she had the same eyes as Thorin before she was smiling wide. She effortlessly passed Frodo onto Fíli and Kíli and stood, straightening her vibrant red dress for a moment before taking the steps needed to get to Bilbo.

"Dís Durin," she said with a warm voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The feeling's mutual," Bilbo said in a daze as he looked up at the woman. He wondered if she was wearing heels, or if maybe all the Durins were just this tall.

"I'm getting drinks," Thorin said unceremoniously before turning to walk away. But then he turned back and asked Bilbo: "Do you drink?"

"Well, I walked here for a reason," Bilbo said with a laugh. "Get me an eggnog. With a bit of nutmeg ground on top for good measure."

Thorin nodded before darting away back to the kitchen. When Bilbo turned back to Dís, he found that her smile had somehow morphed from welcoming to conniving.

"How long have you been working with my dear brother?"

"A year in February," Bilbo admitted, resisting the urge to tug on his corduroy jacket in nerves. He thought it would look festive paired with his green waistcoat, but now he felt a tad overdressed in a horridly eccentric fashion. Everyone else was wearing thick, dark clothes in contrast to his light, colorful ones.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you, as not just anyone can deal with Thorin for that long. You must really be interested in yoga."

"Not really, no," Bilbo said with a bright laugh. "I got into it after that horrid winter last year kept me inside eating too much. But once I started I found I just had to keep coming back."

Dís hummed, and then asked: "Our family wasn't very knowledgable about it either, until Thorin decided to get certified and teach. Now nearly everyone goes to one of his classes. You should hurry up and get to Level Three so I can see you more."

"Oh!" Bilbo said in a start. "I don't think that'll come for a while now."

"Pity that. Will you at least be doing Hot Yoga soon? Sometimes I come along for those."

"Thorin's mentioned it," Bilbo admitted as he stuffed his hands in his khaki pockets, just so he had something to do with them. "But I never really agreed to it."

"It's not as bad as it sounds."

"Dís."

Bilbo turned to the deep voice and gratefully took the drink from Thorin. He saw in interest Thorin had something red. Probably a vodka-cranberry concoction with way too many shots for Bilbo to deal with. But unlike Bilbo, Thorin was a mountain of a man. He could down an entire line of tequila shots and still be able to get into a scorpion pose.

"I'm not interrogating him, just asking questions about our shared interests," Dís said with a sniff. "And no drink for me?"

"You can have this one," Thorin said as he offered the tall glass. "Nori made it, so naturally I don't trust it."

Bilbo looked down at his own drink and frowned.

"Dori made yours, so don't worry about it," Thorin added to Bilbo, tone noticeably softer.

Bilbo gave him a slight smile in thanks before looking back down to take a sip of his drink. The bourbon used for it was simply divine, and he eagerly took another sip. Still, he did not miss the way Dís tried to elbow Thorin in the ribs.

After another drink and an hour of walking about the house, Bilbo did not know why he had been so hesitant to come. Of course Frodo had made fast friends with Bombur's gaggle of children (and goodness, eight really was a quite a lot!) so Bilbo for once could let the lad scamper about without worrying. It allowed Bilbo to flit about the rooms and catch up with some and meet others.

It was both kind and odd how Thorin continued to hover at Bilbo's side the entire time. Like he was afraid that Bilbo was going to get scared off by his massive family. Although Thorin was a sufficient shield when it came to his touchy younger brother. Clearly Frerin did not mean ill, but Bilbo was not as open with affection as the blonde man.

While everyone was brash and loud, they seemed to be good people at heart. Still, their heavy names were often lost on Bilbo. Although Bilbo easily remembered Dain's name, mostly because of his red hair that stuck out in the ocean of black and blonde hair. When they sat down for dinner, Bilbo was a little relieved to have Ori and Kíli sitting on either side of him. Thorin was across of him, talking roughly with Dwalin. At the heads of the table were Dori and Dís, and they lead a cheers before the thirty-odd people cheered and dug into the food.

Bilbo was thankful he had not driven for an entirely different reason, as after that dinner he felt so content he might just fall asleep. But of course dessert was brought around, and Bilbo should have thought to bring some pies of his own. Not that Bombur's were unsatisfying in the least, but he felt a tad bad for invading this beautiful house without giving anything back.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Ori said with a shrug of a shoulder. "Most live so close it's easy for them to lug things in from the snow."

"Close as in...?"

"Well, the Durins live to our left. Bifur and Bofur to the right, and Bombur on the other side of them. Then there's Glóin and Oin who live across the street, and Dain lives at the end of the street a little further away from the rest of us. Just on the corner of Iron Street. Oh, and Dwalin and Balin live on the other side of the Durins."

"Wow," Bilbo said in a hush. "I would have moved out a long time ago if all my relatives lived that close."

Ori giggled lightly before saying: "Our families have been close for generations, and have lived here for even longer."

"Doesn't seem like such a sleepy town anymore," Bilbo said with a frown. "I always knew about Erebor Way, I just didn't realize the end of the neighborhood had such a close community."

"You live on Hobbiton Lane, right?" Kíli asked impatiently. "That's not too bad. A few miles at most."

"It's quieter, although a tad annoying how close we are to the pasture lands. Sometimes I think our little English town is quite modern, and then I hear the sheep bleating incessantly at night."

After another couple hours of sitting on the couch (with Fíli and Kíli annoyingly joining in and forcing Bilbo's thigh to be pressed against Thorin's), Bilbo decided he needed to get going. Not only so it did not get any colder, but because Thorin had been awfully diligent about making sure he always had a drink in his hand.

So Bilbo busily bundled up Frodo before the boy went out on the front lawn to survey the new snow. Bilbo took a tad longer, and when he was done Thorin saw him to the door. They both glanced up at the mistletoe that indeed was still there. Giggling, Bilbo reached for Thorin's hand and brushed a kiss on his knuckles.

"It was lovely coming over, give my thanks to Ori for inviting me again," Bilbo said with a smile, squeezing Thorin's hand before letting go.

"Even though I was not made aware of your invitation, I will make sure to do that along with my own," Thorin said with a grave nod. "Are you sure you'll be alright walking back?"

"Well, I'd hate to make you get that sweater back on..." Bilbo said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"I can make the sacrifice," Thorin said gravely. "And Dís would never forgive me for letting you fall in a ditch to not be found till Spring."

"Your sister is darling," Bilbo said with a laugh.

"Don't let her hear you say that," Thorin said as he leaned down to whisper, "She grows in size when her confidence is boosted."

Bilbo snorted unattractively and pushed at Thorin's barrel chest in amusement. Wow, Dori must have made the drinks strong for him to be this flirty and forward. Still, the action only made Thorin's grin widen. How odd, to think that he had thought Thorin hated him when he had been anything but polite this entire evening.

"Here, wait a moment," Thorin said as he closed the door and darted away.

Bilbo took in a deep breath of chilly air to try and clear his foggy head before turning to Frodo. He had stopped frolicking about for the moment and was staring at Bilbo with a small smile and big eyes.

"Thorin is going to help us along home," Bilbo informed, a tad nervous.

"Ok!" the boy chirped brightly, clearly not as afraid of strangers as he had been in days past. Although Frodo had clambered into Thorin's lap for a minute before getting stolen back by Fíli and Kíli.

Thorin came back out wearing a black jacket with a magnificent fur lining. Bilbo stared, and wondered if yoga instructors were really paid that well. In the few times Bilbo had seen Thorin outside of gym attire, he had been dressed quite smartly. Maybe he had been born into money. Which of course would just be so unfair, as he already had such a handsome face.

"Did you have a nice time?"

Thorin's deep rumble of a voice brought Bilbo out from staring at Thorin's boots (Danner brand, so maybe this man really did have more money than Bilbo). The shorter man looked up and nodded, hoping his smile looked natural instead of rushed.

"Truly," Bilbo said as he nodded again. "Although your brother was a tad, ah-"

"Space invading? Irritating? Obnoxious?" Thorin asked with a sigh.

"I can see how Fíli and Kíli got their charms, and he must need it dealing with all his patients," Bilbo answered with a laugh. "Although it should not be so entertaining to watch Kíli flail around with Tauriel those Saturday mornings."

"It'll only end in heartbreak for him," Thorin said with a sigh. "She's nearly finished her training to be a personal trainer, and seven years older than Kíli at that."

"How old are you?" Bilbo asked.

"Not that it really matters," Thorin grumbled. "But I'm forty-two."

"I'm thirty-five," Bilbo said with a toothy smile. "See? Even a bigger difference. And just let Kíli stare and sigh. Who knows, maybe he really will keep his affections bright for the lass."

Thorin's frown still did not diminish.

"Wait, now I get it," Bilbo said with a laugh. "You just don't want Thranduil as an in-law."

Thorin was silent again, only the crunch of their boots against the snow making noise between them. It made Bilbo burst into reckless laughter, and of course that was when the black ice would remain hidden and strike.

Bilbo's arms pinwheeled as his laughter died in his throat, and he was awfully glad Thorin had decided to come along as he grabbed Bilbo by his waist with only one arm and straightened him back up.

"Many thanks," Bilbo said in a huff of frozen breath. "You've got steady footing even on ice it seems."

"I have years on you, as we just previously established," Thorin said with a roll of his eyes.

Bilbo hesitantly crossed the ice, and could admit to himself he was sad when Thorin's hand on his back went back to his coat's pocket once the danger passed. For not even wearing gloves he had incredibly warm hands.

They walked, and Bilbo admitted that he was going a tad more sluggish than usual. Usually he was all for rushing home to get away from this cold, but walking with Thorin made Bilbo feel warm and happy. Of course he had to keep calling Frodo back, but the boy was quick to oblige when Thorin offered to carry him on his shoulders.

"You don't have to do that," Bilbo whispered as Frodo clambered on his shoulders.

"I did it all the time with Frerin and Dís, not to mention Fíli and Kíli. The latter pair still try to climb on me to this day," Thorin said as he stood back up effortlessly.

Still feeling a little worried for him, Bilbo tucked his arm in Thorin's to help balance him on the snow and ice with the added weight of Frodo.

They got back to Bilbo's house after fifteen or so minutes. All the while Thorin did not pull away from Bilbo's linked arm, or put Frodo down. Yes, a mountain man indeed. After they got to the door, Bilbo just had enough time to get Frodo's boots off before the lad was sprinting in the kitchen for hot chocolate.

"Would you like a cup? I also have decaf coffee if you'd like that instead," Bilbo said, rubbing his nose he was sure was bright red.

Thorin seemed truly torn, as he easily gazed over Bilbo's head to his house inside.

"No, I should get back," Thorin said with a sigh. "That, or have to deal with my teasing siblings."

"Right, well, goodnight then," Bilbo said helplessly.

Thorin stared, and Bilbo expected him to take a step back down the stairs, not a step closer. He had a familiar intensity in his gaze that had Bilbo wanting to scramble away.

"I'm sorry."

Of all the things Bilbo expected him to say, he did not expect that. He blinked stupidly, and was sure his jaw was on the ground.

"At first, I thought you were just a nobody," Thorin continued to say. "I thought you weren't serious, and just came to classes to goof about. I pushed you up levels prematurely to try and brush you off."

So he had done that to try and discourage Bilbo away.

"But you kept it up, and you didn't stop coming. You should know I pushed you to the level you're at now because I thought you could take it, and you haven't disappointed. So I admit I have never been so wrong into first thinking you did not belong in my classes."

Bilbo gaped for a moment more before stumbling to say: "That's fine. I would have probably doubted myself too."

Still, Thorin seemed torn by the deep frown on his face.

"Thorin," Bilbo said gently, reaching up to rest a hand on his shoulder. "I forgive you."

Thorin nodded solemnly, and before he had a change to squeal, pulled Bilbo tightly against him in a hug. It was cushioned by their winter coats, but Bilbo found himself melting into the embrace. It was not just every night that your stoic yoga instructor said he actually believed in you and then brought you close in an embrace. Thorin's fur collar brushed against his cold cheek nicely and Bilbo resisted the turn his face closer to his neck.

All too soon Thorin pulled away from Bilbo. He gave a small, nervous sort of smile before trotting away into the night.

Bilbo watched him go, and realized that he was in big trouble indeed.

.

Hot yoga was something else entirely.

As much as Bilbo enjoyed how refreshing it was to step out of over-hundred-degree weather and air nearly half water, he was sure he sweat out a least five pounds each time. Obviously that was the point but goodness did Bilbo suffer during that hour and a half.

He was glad he had worn his dark Spinal Tap t-shirt again, if only to get the soft huff from Thorin as he passed by Bilbo. Even in hot-yoga he was wearing those damnable shorts. Bilbo was just glad Thorin kept his t-shirt on, even though it was entirely mute with it sweated through. If he ever decided to enter a wet-tshirt competition, Thorin could definitely rely on Bilbo's vote.

Bilbo also found that while there were familiar faces from other classes (Tauriel and Legolas), there was another relative of Thorin's. Bilbo knew his name was Dwalin, as Balin talked about him a bit. Him and Ori both, and it had been oddly cute to see the weedy librarian next to the bulky tattooist.

While Bilbo had a lot of time to talk with others at the party, Dwalin had not approached him and Bilbo had not specifically searched him out. Yet it seemed that he was an entirely different person whenever Thorin was about, and they were clapping at each other's massive shoulders amicably. It was nice to see Thorin so at ease with another, even in this heat, and it made Bilbo wish for that sort of close connection.

"What did you think of today?" Thorin asked as he exited the room and stood behind Bilbo. "You haven't quit this either."

The shorter man himself had just been in the process of toweling off his curls, and he did not miss the snort from Dwalin when he took the towel away. He probably looked like an angry cherub, what with his button nose and hair. At least Bilbo had some sort of cheekbones to break the heavenly stereotype of meddlesome babes.

"Still very hot," Bilbo said in a long exhale, feeling stupidly proud of how open to interpretation that statement was in his mind.

Thorin grinned ruggedly in return, and Bilbo commended himself for giving up his spin classes in trade for another class with the man. Bilbo heard from Fíli and Kíli that Thorin had lorded it over Thranduil, who had just sniffed before flicking his hair and 'prancing' away like an effeminate buck. As an author, Bilbo wondered over that contrasting metaphor for a good long time.

And so weeks passed, and Bilbo stared at the calender and read 'March' and wondered when he had become such a coward.

It was obvious that there was something unspoken between him and Thorin now, as bizarre as it sounded. Bilbo at first had simply thrown away the idea of the man looking at him in anything other than barely-hidden rage, but now Bilbo saw behind those glances.

Bilbo told himself it was that holiday hug. That had changed everything. He had been perfectly content with sitting back and joining Thorin in his company for yoga classes, and nothing else. Yet now Bilbo wanted to see Thorin in those neon shorts and nothing else. Actually, curse those adorable shorts for once and let Bilbo just take what he wanted.

Bringing himself back to the present, Bilbo looked up and saw Thorin was smirking down at him as they exited another class of sweating and stretching. Thorin nudged Dwalin, who only huffed before giving a wave in parting and leaving the two alone. Usually Thorin and Bilbo talked for a bit (flirted, if Bilbo allowed himself the moment to think it over), and clearly Dwalin was not interested in this part of the lesson.

Well, it had been two weeks over a year since Bilbo had seen Thorin walk in with those orange and purple shorts. What was the worst thing that could happen by asking? He had already dealt with the full-experience of having Thorin glaring at him. Even that threat could not make Bilbo back down from the decision he had come to.

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

Thorin looked at him, clearly confused by the furrow in his brow. This definitely was not how their short conversations of quips started.

"I don't really do private lessons that day, as I'm busy with Pilates in the afternoons," Thorin said.

"No, not private lessons, but I suppose it would be similar in having time between just the two of us."

Thorin was clearly not picking up on his intent, as he innocently blinked and waited for Bilbo to keep talking.

"I know this really good, small Italian place. If I call now I could probably snag a reservation," Bilbo continued to say, thinking getting Italian was a total cliché. "How about it?"

Thorin gaped, and that in and of itself was rewarding enough.

"Tomorrow?" Thorin parroted back stiffly.

"Unless you're stuck babysitting Fíli and Kíli ," Bilbo said, feeling his cool composure start to crack.

"No, I'm free," Thorin said, and Bilbo wanted to giggle because Thorin was pulling at his towel in his hands like it could help him get through this situation. "I don't like Italian that much, however."

"Well, you could just come over then," Bilbo said with a shrug, thinking that they had moved at a glacial pace already. Why not speed things up? "You remember where I live? I can get Hamfast to watch Frodo for a few hours I'm sure."

"Your... house," Thorin stated dryly.

Bilbo sighed, and reached up to rest a hand on Thorin's bicep (which was still incredibly damp with sweat and how is that so hot?). Thorin seemed to deflate a bit at that, and stopped strangling his poor towel.

"If you don't want to go on a date with me, that's ok," Bilbo said, trying to put on a brave smile. "I would like to remain your friend if you're going to shoot me down, however."

"No, no," Thorin said with a shake of his head, lodging a few of his long curls loose. "That- that would be great. Fantastic."

It took Bilbo a moment to stare and make sure he had heard right before he let a grin cover his face unabashedly. Thorin himself gave back a warm, hesitant smile. How was this tall man so adorable even while they both dropped sweat on the tiled floor under them?

"Any requests then, for what you want me to do tomorrow night?" Bilbo asked, taking back his hand and blinking up innocently at Thorin. He thought his wording was a little cruel, especially when Thorin could not look him in the eye for a moment.

"A roast maybe?" Thorin finally asked out warily. "Would that be too much?"

"I have some lamb," Bilbo compromised. "Would that be alright instead?"

"As long as it's not seafood or Italian," Thorin said. "Or still alive."

"You've never had the strong urge to try swallowing a live octopus? And here I thought you were of an adventurous nature."

"Not when they still have their beaks and could tear up your throat," Thorin said with a growl.

Bilbo laughed again, and this time could not help but reach forward and pat Thorin's forearm. Clearly the man reacted well to physical affection, as he took a step closer and his soft grin was back.

"Alright, well, come around at seven? You can watch me do the finishing touches and all that."

"I can do that," Thorin said with a nod.

Feeling quite brave indeed, Bilbo reached out once again. This time he held Thorin's hand, and looked up to get lost in blue when he brushed his lips over his knuckles. Just like he had Christmas Eve all those weeks ago.

Bilbo felt his chest swell in pride, knowing the flush in Thorin's cheeks now was not only from the finished class.

.

It was one thing for Bilbo to talk big and ask out a ridiculously attractive man to dinner. It was another thing entirely to actually do well by his word and go through with it.

Bilbo had no problem making the food of course. Mashed potatoes with garlic and caramelized onion; steamed vegetables just enough so that they were not crunchy, but still had substance; rugged bread with sunflower and flax seeds on the crust for flare. Even a berry crumble with oatmeal and fresh whipped cream for dessert.

He had turned over the lamb in its marinade one last time when there was a heavy knock on his door. He washed his hands in a flash and dried them off on his apron as he went to the door. When he opened it, he found himself gaping before giggling lightly.

"The suit was too much, wasn't it?" Thorin asked in a sigh as he stepped in. "Dís was insistent though, and of course her sons betrayed me to agree with her."

It was one thing to make neon work, but Thorin in a suit looked devastating to the heart and head. Bilbo giggled again, to try and get over how nice the deep blue looked on Thorin, before offering to take his jacket.

"You must be sweating in that from the heat. It is nearly Summer," Bilbo said as he waved for Thorin to follow after him.

"Actually, I'm used to suits. I used to be a lawyer before I became a yoga instructor."

Bilbo turned on his heel at that information, and raised an eyebrow in silent demand for an explanation to that loaded statement.

Thorin sighed, and scratched absently at his hair for a moment (tonight it was braided down his back, no doubt from Fíli), before answering.

"You know that Balin is a lawyer? Well, it's a family occupation mostly. My grandfather, and my father were both lawyers. Dís is one. Frerin was the black sheep with going into nursing, and I followed after some years."

"Dís must be perfect at it," Bilbo interrupted.

"The best," Thorin said with a self-deprecating sigh that spoke so much. "Anyways, I just realized I didn't want to do it one day. It didn't make me proud or happy."

"So you ran away and became a yoga instructor? I suppose lawyers have to keep their hair relatively short," Bilbo asked, and again could not hold in his giggles. Thankfully Thorin did not seem to offended by it.

"Not that much different from leaving behind a steady job as a librarian to become an illustrator."

Bilbo smiled softly at that, and Thorin returned it right back. He looked so perfectly out of place on a stool, sitting at the large island in Bilbo's kitchen. He looked immaculate, like he was ready for a photo-shoot instead of a simple dinner, and Bilbo wished he was at least wearing one of his waistcoats instead of this ratty gold cardigan. Obviously he had to level the playing field a little bit more. Yes, Thorin's jacket was gone, but that tie needed to as well.

Without much warning, Bilbo moved away from the lamb on the stove to stand before Thorin. It was odd for him to be the one looking down, but Bilbo resiliently reached forward and fiddled with Thorin's silver tie that shined to reflect the blue of his suit and the gold of the lighting above him. Bilbo told himself to focus on the moving colors of the bright tie, and not the blue of Thorin's eyes.

"What are you doing? That's my favorite," Thorin grumbled as Bilbo slipped it out from his collar.

"I feel incredibly self-conscious shuffling about in my slippers while you're looking so prime and proper."

"So you decided to divest me of my tie for yourself, burglar?" Thorin asked in a deep rumble.

"And maybe loosen some of these buttons, just for flare," Bilbo said with a laugh as he pocketed the tie and then returned his quick fingers to Thorin.

Bilbo thought it showed both their patience and restraint with the other that they had not jumped each other and let the lamb to fry. Still, it smelled as delicious as Thorin looked with that small smile nearly hidden entirely by his beard, and Bilbo was never one to waste a good meal. And unlike the lamb in the skillet, Thorin's looks and charms would keep if Bilbo left him alone for a moment more.

To distract himself as he moved away, Bilbo asked if Thorin would prefer wine or beer. Thorin joked he would rather have something stronger to steal his nerves, but then agreed to having a pale ale. Bilbo commended him on his choice, as the bite of the beer would cut through the richness of the lamb and help clean his pallet to appreciate each bite all the more.

Thorin offered to help as he got his drink, but Bilbo shot him back down to sit on the stool with a single glance.

"I invited you over, and this is my kitchen," Bilbo said as he first put the lamb on the plate. "Now just sit there and let me woo you."

Thorin shook his head at that, but did not push away the warm plate of food when Bilbo presented it to him. Bilbo then set about getting his plate and a beer as well before sitting down at the island. It was entirely informal (even with Thorin in such pressed trousers and shiny belt), but Bilbo preferred it that way. More times than not he and Frodo had their dinners here, or out by the TV with them mostly talking over it.

Bilbo watched Thorin as he first took a sniff of the lamb before chomping down on it. He groaned as he leaned back, and as if realizing the sudden moan that was now reverberating about the kitchen, coughed uncomfortably. To make him feel a tad better, Bilbo reached over and patted his hand. It was quite a compliment for another to get so lost in his cooking them lost themselves.

Between their bites they talked about their days, even though they had seen each other that morning. Thorin's looks had stayed longer than before, and for once Bilbo had met them in challenge. Thorin must have told Fíli and Kíli (or the weasels had somehow found out), because they clapped Bilbo on either shoulder and gave congratulations as they exited.

("Thank Gods you finally asked," Fíli sighed while Kíli giggled. "Our uncle was too intimidated by your adorableness to suck it up and do it himself.")

Thorin explained he had not done much other than shoveling some snow after Pilates, and Bilbo had only just managed to come up with a new idea for a book.

"What's it to be about?" Thorin asked as he looked up from his nearly finished plate, clearly interested even if it was a children's book.

"Dwarves, I was thinking," Bilbo said as he fiddled his fork in his mashed potatoes absently. "I was thinking maybe something along the story of the mountain they live in. Give it a heart, that the dwarves find and cherish. Show that even the smallest, or this case biggest, things need love and attention."

"That just because something can't speak back doesn't mean you should dismiss it," Thorin said with a smile.

"Well spoken for a past lawyer," Bilbo said with a laugh.

While Bilbo had been able to scare Thorin away from helping with dinner, the tall man was absolutely set on doing the dishes. Bilbo watched as he rolled up his sleeves to show furred forearms that quickly got wet with water and suds. He sat and drunk a second beer as Thorin puttered about, making sure not to trail any water when he grabbed for a new pan or plate.

"I was going to say this date had been nice," Bilbo commented as he watched his beer swirl in the bottle. "But this has been more than just nice."

"You're the author," Thorin said, back still turned (not that Bilbo was hating the view). "You choose a fitting adjective if you think that word too simple."

"Friendly, delightful, agreeable, pleasing..." Bilbo drifted off, leaving his beer to instead stand and move to grip at Thorin's sides.

It was a ploy to maybe make Thorin turn to him with the same eyes he had watched him with this morning, but all it did was make the other man jump and nearly splash cold dish water on the both of them. Bilbo smiled, not thinking him so easily spooked, as Thorin ignored the pot he had dropped in the sink to turn around and face Bilbo.

"Satisfying?" Bilbo asked, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Thorin stared for a long moment before lowering his head so Bilbo could press his lips against Thorin's. The kiss was gentle and the definition of chaste, and Bilbo huffed in disappointment when Thorin pulled away after but a moment. Bilbo wanted to feel the coarseness of his beard against his own smooth cheeks, to feel his hands on him like Bilbo was gripping Thorin's lower back.

"Bilbo, I don't know how to exactly go about saying now much I enjoy your company," Thorin said slowly, forehead knocking against Bilbo's playfully.

"I don't just make my signature lamb chops with apple and mint for anyone," Bilbo said back.

Thorin laughed again at this, and Bilbo hummed appreciatively when Thorin ducked down again to steal a second kiss that was just as short and sweet as the first.

"You must know the feeling's mutual," Bilbo breathed between them. "Why else would I take up all my courage to ask you over?"

Thorin studied him for a long minute, light blue eyes flashing as it flicked to different parts of his face. Whatever he saw apparently pleased him, as his smile was slow and wide before Thorin ducked his head down a third time.

This time the kiss was long, and Bilbo only took a moment to wonder before opening his mouth. Thorin growled, and Bilbo shivered in response as he could feel the noise more than hear it. From the way it rippled out of his chest pressed against Bilbo's to their joint mouths.

Thorin still tasted like bitter beer and apples, but it only made Bilbo's hands pull them tighter together. He thought it blissful that he could finally grab the behind he had watched bounce about in neon for months now. Thorin himself seemed intent on sneaking his hands around Bilbo's cardigan to press his fingers into his soft sides.

After what seemed like ages Thorin straightened his neck and broke their kiss. Well, it had been a string of them, with lips sliding carelessly against each other without much thought or finesse.

"Satisfactory?" Thorin asked, lowering his face down once again to nuzzle at Bilbo's left ear largely hidden behind unruly curls.

Bilbo giggled and nodded, pressing a quick kiss into Thorin's beard.

.

"So I was thinking."

Bilbo just barely managed to lift his head from the couch and look up at Thorin, the action so hard because the man was currently massaging Bilbo's feet. He seemed more like a masseuse than a gym instructor now than anything else, and Bilbo had probably never loved his boyfriend more than when he gave Bilbo indulgent massages.

"What's that?" Frodo was the one to ask from the large armchair opposite to them. He put down his homework, always interested in excuses to push aside the tiny assignments.

"Just that I think it's time for your uncle to go into Level Three."

Bilbo took back his foot and sat up straight from his lounging position. In the background Frodo asked just what that meant, but Bilbo was studying intently at Thorin.

"You think I'm ready?" Bilbo asked.

"Bilbo, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me," Thorin said with a snort, and then blushed when he realized his flippant statement.

"I suppose I have been working at the level below for about a year and a half now," Bilbo said thoughtfully. "Quite the contrast to when you express shipped me up the levels."

"I told you I was sorry about that," Thorin grumbled.

"I don't get what's happening!" Frodo pouted.

"Just that I got a promotion of a type," Bilbo said with a laugh at Frodo's look of indignation at something so simple.

"Dís has been hounding me about it nearly as much as the subject of how often I stay over," Thorin said with a sigh. "She's threatening to kick me out of the house, which is grand as it's in joint custody between the three of us."

Bilbo looked at him, confused for a moment, before stating: "You must know you can move in if you want."

Thorin stared at him blankly before stating: "Bilbo, I know we're a tad rusty about relationships, but you don't just assume you can come and live with your other half. I thought I should maybe wait for you to offer it up."

"Well, I just offered," Bilbo said with a sniff.

"So Uncle Bilbo is getting really good at yoga and Uncle Thorin is coming to live with us," Frodo summed up slowly.

Bilbo smiled at Frodo before turning to Thorin, and his grin widened at seeing Thorin was looking at him with soft eyes. Bilbo scooted over the couch and tucked himself under Thorin's arm, snuggling into the flank of solid muscle he found there.

"Maybe I'll try Pilates classes next," Bilbo said with a chuckle.

"Only if you take my class and not Bard's," Thorin was quick to say.

"Fine, but you have to wear those silly shorts to those classes as well," Bilbo laughed, and tightened her grip around Thorin.

"They are not silly," Thorin said with a sniff. "They're functional."

"Functional at doing the impossible and distracting me from your physic," Bilbo said with a roll of his eyes.

Thorin huffed, nearly overtaking Frodo's high-pitched yawn. Sighing himself when Bilbo realized how late it had gotten, he got up to help Frodo to bed while Thorin went to the kitchen to do the dishes and set-up the coffee for tomorrow morning.

After reading Frodo a good three stories, Bilbo went to his room and saw that Thorin was already sitting in bed. He was wearing his reading glasses with a book in his lap about colleges (Kíli was still dilly-dallying in committing to his applications). Bilbo hummed as he dressed in his pajamas as well, smiling bashfully when he saw that Thorin had put away the book to watch him. He thought he would never become accustomed to how intense Thorin's gaze was when it was centered on Bilbo.

It was almost surreal, to think how much had changed in a couple years. Before Bilbo would have jumped and stumbled at Thorin's eyes on him, but now he just felt bold by the attention. He would have never thought Thorin would see him as a potential partner outside of the gym, much less a serious boyfriend.

Bilbo went to sleep that night content in Thorin's arms, thinking that it was just a week away before their one-year anniversary. Bilbo already had the gift he would be giving Thorin stashed in one of his drawers.

It was a set of underwear he had personally died bright neon colors. He could not wait until Thorin saw them, and then put them on to show off for Bilbo's entertainment.

.

FIN