Work Text:
It was a scream.
A high pitched, terrified scream.
A scream, the likes of which Bilbo had never heard before.
It made his heart pound and his feet lightning-quick as he raced to the kitchen.
Only to freeze in the doorway as he took the situation in.
It was a laugh that filled the kitchen next.
A hearty, belly aching, tear inducing laugh.
Bilbo bent over, clutching at his stomach as he positively howled with laughter.
Wiping at his eyes he looked at his boyfriend.
His tall, broad, muscle bound boyfriend.
A man who could have people cowering before him with a single look.
A man who terrified his opponents, be that in the business world or the boxing ring on the weekend.
A man who was currently perched on one of Bilbo’s dainty kitchen chairs.
Heavy frying pan clutched in a white knuckled grip.
Staring, pale and wide eyed, at the floor.
Where a spider sat.
No bigger than a ten pence piece.
Black legs drawn tight against it’s body.
“It’s not funny, Bilbo.”
“I think you’ll find it is.”
“Kill it! Get rid of it before it gets me!”
Wiping the tears from his cheeks, Bilbo squatted before the spider, coaxing it onto his palm as Thorin squeaked in fear.
Cooing to the frightened spider in his palm, he carefully placed it under a bush in the garden before heading back inside.
Where Thorin was still perched on the chair.
Refusing to come down till it was safe.
Quickly washing his hands and filling the kettle, Bilbo coaxed his love from standing on the chair to sitting on it.
Pressing a kiss to a still pale cheek, he bustled about to make tea.
Chuckling to himself every now and then.
The Great Thorin Oakenshield.
Was absolutely, positively, terrified of spiders.