Many, many thanks to Lomelindi and Shinyadoll for encouraging me to write this! This started as a simple PWP and then Nori hit me over the head and demanded a bit more. This is the result.
Special thanks to Lomelindi for the title. Love ya darlin!
Bofur waited until everything was quiet. Snores came from all directions and he slowly, silently, crept away from the outskirts of the camp toward the stream they'd found. There were plenty of trees along the shore to sit next to – or behind, depending on what you had in mind, really – to keep yourself from being seen.
It wasn't that he was hiding, really. He just wanted a bit of bloody privacy for the first time in two weeks. Two long, boring, sociable, FRUSTRATING weeks. Not one minute to himself, even worse than when it was just him, Bifur, and Bombur. Now he had ten other Dwarves and a Hobbit besides to contend with when all he wanted, really, was a chance to relieve some of his frustration.
It didn't help that every time he turned around, Nori was there. Nori, with his odd hairstyle, his pretty, pretty auburn hair that just screamed "run your fingers through this", his deep eyes that smoldered with something frightening every time he caught Bofur looking at him.
Yes, he was in a state. First, he didn't know if the thief would be interested in an affair, since no one really knew anything about him but his brothers and they weren't talking. Second, that danger drew him. Strange, in a company of very dangerous folks, that one among them should stand out in Bofur's eyes as more so than the rest.
Thorin was imposing and radiated strength. Dwalin – he was big and burly and had such a reputation as a warrior that he should seem more dangerous than any of the others, and yet his strength was always tempered. Balin was older, but still capable. Bifur and Bombur of course he knew were dangerous lads, when they needed to be. Dori was the strongest, and Ori the meekest. Still dangerous, look at how he'd hit that Warg with a rock from the sling! A bigger stone would have blinded it. Gloin was a maniac with his axe, Oin, well... there was controlled power under the age, Bofur could feel it. The lads? Fíli and Kíli were young, but they were fierce.
And then there was Nori.
Nori simply radiated danger. There was a feel to him, a glint in those hazel eyes that spoke of things best left in the darkness, theft and guile and deceit and all of those things conspired to make Bofur want him. He wanted Nori so much it hurt. He'd always had a thing for bad boys, he supposed, but this level of need was something he'd never expected to come across and it was driving him insane.
So, he'd settled for a bit of solitary comfort when he could find it, always thinking of the thief, wondering what it would be like to thread his hands in Nori's hair, to feel his body close, to hear him making soft (and maybe not so soft) sounds of pleasure in the night. But for the last two weeks, it seemed everything had conspired together to keep him from having ANY privacy at all, and that was simply not on. He needed relief and he was going to find some.
He settled to the ground by the stream and after a quick look to be certain he was alone, and a longer listen to make sure nothing else was lurking, he flipped open a small vial of oil and coated his fingers with it before taking himself in hand, stroking slowly, his eyes slipping closed as he thought of his thief. A soft moan left him at the thought of what Nori's hands might feel like on him.
A hand came around to hold his mouth silent and the other dipped down to touch him as a weight settled at his back and he struggled for a moment until he heard the hiss in his ear. "Not a sound, Bofur, you don't want the others waking, do you? I didn't think so."
Bofur wanted to crawl into the ground in shame. To have been caught in such a compromising position – wait. Nori's hand was on him. Stroking him.
He nodded slowly and Nori removed the hand from his mouth but took it no further than wrapping one of Bofur's braids around it. "Not a sound, not one, understand?" Nori's voice in his ear was soft but full of steel. The pull on his braid wasn't gentle, either, and he nodded again. "Good."
He wanted to moan, he wanted to sigh, he wanted – he wasn't sure what he wanted, beyond Nori's hand never stopping that strong/gentle caress of his flesh. He couldn't find anything to do with his hands and when he tried to raise them to touch Nori, he was told in no uncertain terms that it wouldn't be happening and to stay still. A nip to his earlobe convinced him, the slight pain sending a jolt through him and wringing a groan from him. He bit his lip when Nori growled, reminding him to stay silent, and wondered dizzily if he'd be able to. It felt so good, having his thief at his back, holding him by the hair and he didn't know how he'd ever thought his own hand was good enough. The things Nori was doing to him, with just a simple touch, one hand, had him breathless from the pleasure already spiking through him and now the thief was murmuring things in his ear.
Bofur colored and felt his excitement climb, if possible, even higher. Those words, the things Nori spoke, struck sparks along his nerves. What the thief wanted to do to him, described in detail, the crude words bringing sharp, clear images to his mind and it was enough to send him over. His hands scrabbled at the ground, mindful of Nori's requests even as lost in it as he was. The feel of his thief at his back steadied him as he gulped in great breaths of air, coming down from the peak and simply trying to remember how to breathe.
Nori held him for a moment longer before tucking him back into his breeches and moving away. Bofur nearly cried out at the loss of contact as he fell back and Nori knelt now where Bofur could see him clearly but just out of reach. "You should sleep good tonight, toymaker," he said softly with a wicked grin. And then he was gone in the direction of their camp.
Bofur sat up slowly, shaking his head a little. He'd think he had dreamed the whole thing except for the damp on his belly and the sting in his ear where Nori had nipped at him. One hand went up to rub at it and he stiffened. His earring was missing.
Suddenly he chuckled. Trust his thief to take something in return for what he clearly considered services rendered. He'd just have to find a way to earn it back.