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"I'm not a baby", Kili says with a pout and reaches for the wooden sword in Fili's hands.
"Of course you aren't", Fili says but doesn't give the sword.
They were seventeen and twentytwo, Fili only few years into handling weapons. Of course Kili would want to, too.
--
Kili clings to Fili's back, his hair and clothes wet and cold. "I'm not a baby", he mutters.
"Of course you aren't", Fili says and carries his idiot brother back home and dumps him into a hot bath.
They were twentyfour and twentynine, playing by a frozen pond.
--
Kili kicks and screams and shouts, "I'm not a baby!"
"Hush, of course you aren't", Fili whispers with pain in his eyes and manhandles his brother back into his bed.
They were thirtythree and thirtyeight, Kili having broken his leg falling from a tree and soon growing very tired of bed rest.
--
Fili is staring at Kili's back. He is finally growing, shoulders broadening and he's getting taller, perhaps even tall enough to one day surpass Fili's height.
Suddenly, Kili turns, feeling the eyes on his back. He frowns. "I'm not a baby." You don't need to watch over me, is what he doesn't say.
"No, of course you aren't", Fili says and some sort of sadness creeps into his voice.
They were fourtyone and fourtysix, wandering in the forest by themselves. They caught a deer that day.
--
"I'm not a baby", Kili slurrs and grins and stumbles on the cobblestone street.
Fili laughs and hiccups. "Of course you aren't." He leans on his brother, arm around waist and his brother's arm over his shoulder(Kili really did outgrow him, that bastard).
They were fourtyseven and fiftytwo, getting drunk after a hard day's work at the forge. They may or may not have ended up spraled on top of each other as they fell asleep.
--
"I'm not a baby", Kili says.
"Of course. No. You aren't", Fili whispers and looks at his brother in awe.
They were fifty and fiftyfive and Kili had ust shot the lone wolf attacking his brother. If they sat and slept close together that night, no one ever found out about it.
--
"I'm not a baby", Kili growls and his fingers dig deep into Fili's arms even through all the layers of leather and cloth and fur he wears now.
And for once, Fili is at a loss of words because no, his brother is definitely not a baby anymore and his lips tingle and cheeks burn and perhaps his fingers are gripping tight on Kili's tunic and perhaps he would like to reach up and kiss his definitely-not-a-baby brother silly.
So he does.
They are sixtytwo and sixtyseven and they have each other in blood and bond, body and soul.