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Prim swore by them, each month she went for one and when they met up for lunch afterwards Bilbo had to admit she looked as if every stressful thing in her life had vanished, she had been trying to convince Bilbo to go ever since he started complaining about a small twinge in his back. Eventually all of her gentle coercion had worn him down and here he was, feeling more than a little uncomfortable and wishing he was back home in his armchair with a nice cup of tea. Instead he was face down on a massage table, his face wedged into a block of foam in a room that had an overwhelming aroma of lavender.
He tried to relax, even before the masseur instructed him to. Bilbo wasn’t sure whether the low, almost gravelly voice made it easier or not.
“My name is Thorin.” The man said, clearly unaware that the soothing tone he was aiming for had been overshot by miles and landed firmly on seductive. “Just try to relax and clear your mind, we will start shortly.”
‘Shortly’ turned out to be roughly thirty seconds later, he heard a bottle being opened, the sound of ...something being squeezed out and then, oh. Oil. It was oil, and Thorin was warming it up by rubbing his hands together and that noise. Oh. Bilbo must have flinched when his hands made contact with his naked back because those hands darted away as Thorin muttered a quick apology and something about the oil still being too cold. That wasn’t it. Not at all. Though Bilbo would never say.
The hands were back and Bilbo willed himself to not make any noise, to not arch back into the touch and to remain as still as possible. As a result his muscles tensed up and he could almost feel Thorin frowning. Still, his hands and fingers pushed into his back and around his shoulders, Bilbo almost jumped again when they travelled down towards his hips. In fact, he must have, because once again the hands were gone, the movement accompanied by a very quiet but frustrated sigh.
“This isn’t going to work if you don’t try and relax, Mister Baggins.” Thorin said.
“Sor-” Bilbo’s voice was ragged from not being used for so long, he cleared his throat and tried again. “Sorry, it’s just I’ve never had a massage before, I’m not really used to all this… touching.”
“I understand,” Thorin was probably nodding as he spoke, “perhaps a head, neck and shoulder would be better for you, we can have that arranged for you right away if you like.”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to cau-” Bilbo stopped talking as he pushed himself up from the table, finally able to see the man who had been… manhandling him. Oh my. “-se any inconvenience.”
Thorin coughed, crossed his arms and looked away from Bilbo. “It wouldn’t be a problem at all, Mister Baggins.” Was he blushing?
As it turned out, changing from the initial type of massage to the one Thorin recommended wasn’t difficult at all. In fact the only difference seemed to be that instead of Thorin’s hands wandering downwards, they found their way to his scalp. Bilbo was able to relax a bit more and he was rather disappointed when the session ended.
Bilbo had to admit he felt rather dizzy when he attempted to stand upright, not that he complained when Thorin reached out to steady him. He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on those wonderful hands; big, strong, firm.
“Are you doing anything on Saturday?” Bilbo asked.
Thorin’s hand darted away, the masseur crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. “I beg your pardon?”
“Would you like to get dinner?”
“I’m sorry, Mister Baggins,” the masseur said carefully, “we aren’t allowed to date clients.”
“Hm.” Bilbo placed his hands on his hips and looked squarely at Thorin. “I guess it’s just as well I never want to step foot in this building ever again.”
Thorin chuckled. “Really?”
“Well, I figure there would be no need if things went well.”
And that lovely blush was back.
“So,” Prim sipped her tea and peered at Bilbo over the rim of the cup, “how was it?”
“Fine.”
“Just ‘fine’?” She asked. Bilbo nodded, he poked at his cake with a fork to avoid looking at his cousin. “Bilbo.”
Bilbo smiled and finally glanced up at her. It didn’t take long to recount the story, and Prim’s face by the end of it was priceless.
“Only you, cousin.” She shook her head and giggled. “Only you could manage something like that.”