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Bofur woke up comfortably on his side, a heavy arm draped across his middle. Smiling and basking in the warmth at his back, he opened his eyes.
Firelight from the main room spilled from the doorway, illuminating shining streaks of gold in jade walls. Their bedroom fireplace was dark, but there was enough light to make out their wardrobes and decorations.
Quiet noises came from beyond their room and Bofur smiled even wider, knowing exactly who it was and what they were doing.
He rolled onto his back, causing Thorin’s head to fall to his shoulder. The dwarven king pulled him in tighter, rubbing his cheek against Bofur’s shoulder in his sleep. Bofur smiled and began running his fingers through his hair affectionately, gently trying to wake him. Eventually, he was successful.
Thorin’s voice was rough from sleep when he lifted his head and said a single word: “Pie?”
Bofur chuckled quietly. “Yes, it would appear our esteemed consort is making apple pie.”
Thorin kissed him sweetly. As their lips gently slid against each other’s, butterflies appeared in Bofur’s stomach. Despite it having been five months since he had moved in with Thorin and Bilbo, it still felt like a dream sometimes.
When they parted, Thorin rolled out of bed on the other side and walked out of the room, his broad chest bare. Bofur appreciated the view, and decided to stay shirtless as well.
He walked out of their room and followed the sound of Bilbo’s voice, quietly singing some sort of hobbit tune. When he reached the doorway of the kitchen, he grinned wide: Thorin was sneaking up on their hobbit, and doing a damn good job at it. He smirked and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway as he watched.
Without warning, Thorin grabbed Bilbo in his arms and off the ground, spinning him in circles and yelling wordlessly. Bilbo screeched as his cooking spoon went flying, his limbs flailing helplessly. Thorin’s yell became a hearty laugh, one that Bofur shared.
“You awful dwarves!” Bilbo exclaimed. “I’ll get you back for this! No pastries for a week at least!”
Bofur pushed off the door frame with his shoulder and made his way over to where Thorin was hugging Bilbo from behind, still chuckling. Bofur hugged him from the front, effectively smashing their hobbit between the two of them.
“Bebother and confiscate you dwarves!”
Bofur grinned and pulled back. “You love us.”
Bilbo huffed, though it was more for dramatic effect than anything given the tug of amusement on his lips. “Can I have my arms back?” He asked Thorin, wiggling meaningfully.
“That depends on if you intend on hitting me with a cooking utensil.” Grinning at Bofur, he kissed the top of Bilbo’s hair and let him go.
“And here I thought I was being nice, making you two apple pie!”
“I know that you are aware it is my favorite,” Thorin said, giving him an amused knowing look.
Bofur added, “It’s the line of Durin’s favorite smell. It’s a wonder Fili and Kili didn’t come running!”
Bilbo shook his head. “Yavanna forbid.” He turned to Thorin and reached up to pull him down for a kiss. When it ended, Thorin let out a surprised noise.
“You bit me,” he said, baffled.
Bilbo pointed at him. “You’re getting off lucky. I should do a lot worse than that.”
With a smirk, Bofur chimed in, “You know, that’s grounds for imprisonment that is, biting your king.”
He took a step toward Bilbo, who put his hands on his hips. “You know, I do cook for you two, quite often I might add. One little slip and you’ll be stuck in the washroom for two days.”
Bofur laughed, dropping the subject and walking over to Bilbo. He cupped his face and gave him a gentle kiss, which was immediately reciprocated. When it ended, Bofur kissed the end of his nose.
Blushing, Bilbo muttered something unintelligible before going to the stove. He checked on the pie, then grabbed an oven mitt to pull it out.
Thorin reached over and gently caressed Bilbo’s marriage braid. “May I please have a slice?”
Bilbo softly snorted. “Oh, now you want to play nice.”
Thorin gave him a pitiful look that Bofur had only seen once before. It looked strange on his face, but it was effective.
Bilbo gave him an unimpressed look, but relented.
Minutes later, they sat around the living room fireplace with large pieces of delicious apple pie. As the wood crackled and popped, he smiled, feeling peacefully at home.
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