The door to their room was left ever slightly ajar. When Thorin stepped through it he saw Bilbo's green tunic lying halfway between the doorway and the bed. The king shut the door behind him and advanced slowly toward the bed.

"You gave me quite a chase," he commented. "Going through the gardens…the gold mines…even the kitchen? Have you no sympathy for a king?"

"Sympathy?" came a chuckle from the darkness. Thorin heard the squeak of their bed. "What would I have to pity you over? He who has everything he could ever want…The lord of a mountain overflowing with riches."

Thorin picked up the tunic on his way towards the nightstand. He pressed it to his nose gently, taking in Bilbo's scent. He was a strange mix of the mountain air, the dirt and mineral scent of the mines he often waltzed through, and something utterly hobbit-like. It was as if the scent of a faraway meadow had ingrained itself in Bilbo. He was a breath of morning air, the warmth of the sun floating up from a field of flowers.

Discarding the tunic he picked up a packet of matches—a wonderful invention that Bilbo had brought with him from the Shire-and lit two of the candles sitting on the nightstand.

"I would like to be able to see you," Thorin said. He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes roaming, looking for his husband. "If I can't see you, how will I be able to touch you?"

The Ring came off Bilbo's finger with ease.

"Much better."

Thorin's fingers found their way to Bilbo's hair and gently removed the strand of beads. The beads and the Ring were placed on the nightstand along with Thorin's crown which Bilbo took the liberty of removing. Dwarfish fingers trailed down Bilbo's exposed chest and belly, reveling in the softness, caressing the ugly scars on his side—a reminder of Thorin's mistakes and his promise of devotion. Bilbo laid on his back, his hazel eyes and dark blonde hair looking like they were ablaze from the candle light. Thorin craned over him, his fingers gently caressing him as if pushing too hard would only make him break. But this was Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, the Barrel Rider, Child of the kindly West, the Clue-finder, the Guest of Eagles, the Luckwearer, the Ring Winner, the Spider Stinger, the Stinging Fly, the Thief, He that walks unseen, The Web Cutter; if there was anyone in all of Erebor who could claim to be "not as fragile as glass thank you very much!" it was Bilbo.

"I'm afraid that you will have to reschedule anything you had planned today," Thorin stated as he undid the clasps that held on his cape. The fur lined cape slid off his shoulders with ease and pooled on the floor. "I'm about to make you a bit busy."

"That is fine by me, my king," Bilbo all but purred. He reached up and began popping the buttons on Thorin's tunic.

Thorin watched him work his nimble fingers with an increasing feeling of hunger. The dwarf shifted so he was completely looming before Bilbo as his shirt was pushed open and aside, and as soon as it was removed Thorin pressed down and into Bilbo, smothering him with a kiss. Oh, those lips were too soft, too inviting; the thought of anyone else taking them between their own made Thorin press into Bilbo harder, earning him a moan. Those lovely lips opened in invitation and Thorin was glad to take it, plunging his tongue in with zest. Bilbo's hands gripped at Thorin's shoulders, his knees coming up on either side of the dwarf's hips. The room was silent except for the sloppy wet sounds of their battle of tongues; it had been quite a while since Thorin had kissed Bilbo in such a way, since before the gold sickness had struck if Bilbo remembered correctly. They had kissed since the Battle of Five Armies, and they had coupled a few times since his recovery, but they were always hesitant, as if something was off. But now…

Bilbo moaned deeply and jerked up onto Thorin.


Thorin broke away for a moment to press kisses to the sides of Bilbo's smooth face, down his neck to his shoulders where he allowed his teeth to graze. He nipped at the pale flesh before placing his mouth fully down, alternating between biting and licking. Bilbo gave a hearty moan and arched up, willing himself to get closer to his husband. His breath came in quick puffs.

"Thorin…!" the burglar gasped at a particularly sharp bite.

After much sucking and nipping by Thorin in the same spot, there was a large red and bruise adorning his shoulder in a spot Bilbo could guess wouldn't be covered by his tunics so easily. Thorin kissed it gently before moving his kisses down in a trail that led to Bilbo's nipple. He flicked at the bud with the tip of his tongue, experimentally, before pressing his mouth to it. The moan he received was gorgeous. Thorin's shift his weight so he could support himself with one hand while the other busied itself with Bilbo's other nipple.

"Thorin, ah-please!"

It wasn't often that the hobbit lost his wording or couldn't form sentences; it was something that the hobbit prided himself on—always having the right words that is. Seeing Bilbo a moaning wreck because of him made Thorin beside himself with lust. But he had to be careful. Feelings of possession that often bubbled up in his heart were dangerous. The thought of locking Bilbo away, a precious gem for only him to view, while more than a tantalizing idea was too much like the gold sick self that had harmed Bilbo so dearly.

Bilbo snaked a hand between them and palmed his husband's growing erection; Thorin hissed with surprised and bucked into the hand.


"I want you," Bilbo moaned. His pupil were blown wide with lust and stared out from under angelic lashes. "Kahomhîlizu…"*

Between the dwarves of the Company Bilbo had been picking up many Khuzdûl words. There were no books to teach it, and aside from one elf that had learned the language, those who were not dwarven were not permitted to learn the sacred language. Balin had been leery at best about allowing the hobbit to learn but in time agreed it would be best the king's husband know it. Granted some of the words he had picked up weren't exactly for diplomatic reasons; the look of pure wanting on Thorin's face when Bilbo spoke in Khuzdûl to him was beyond sexy.


Thorin pulled back and began unlacing Bilbo's trousers, slowly revealing his already hard dick. With his pants shoved down they were discarded without care allowing for Thorin to sweep his eyes over the form of his lover, sprawled out on his back, erection stiff against his belly, mouth parted open in invitation.

"You look good enough to eat."

Bilbo was about to remark but it morphed into a heated cry as Thorin ducked his head down and swiped his tongue up Bilbo's shaft. The hobbit's toes curled as Thorin continued the motion. A moan filled the room. The wet heat from Thorin's tongue was almost too much; Bilbo could feel a heat building in his loins, curling like a viper ready to strike.


The beg was cut off as Thorin took his tip in his mouth.


His tongue was hot and moist. If the pair hadn't shared a passionate kiss since before the gold sickness overtook Thorin, then it was even longer since he had dared but his mouth on such a private piece of his husband. He experimentally pressed his tongue in different places along Bilbo's dick, swiping it there, swirling over there, each movement earning more heated replies from his love. How could he have given this up for lonely nights in the treasure room? The cold of coins was nowhere near so pleasant as the warmth radiating from the body under him.


Bilbo curled his fingers into the sheets and fur that lined their bed. His hips jerked up involuntarily at one of Thorin's cheek-hallowing sucks and he gave out a whine. Thorin pressed his fingers down onto the hobbit's hips to still him.

"Ah, Thorin I'm sorry-!"

Thorin didn't reply. His tongue drew up and down, leaving trails of saliva in its wake. Bilbo was breaking out in sweat by then and a flush of pink painted him from head to toe, darkening around his ears, cheeks and chest. Thorin wasn't in any better condition; he was slightly less sweaty but no less aroused. While distracting his husband by taking more into his mouth he dared to press a finger slowly into him.


Bilbo jerked at the intrusion despite Thorin's best efforts.

"I'm sorry."

Bilbo gritted his teeth and shook his head. "It's-it's fine…Please, go on."

Thorin released Bilbo's cock from his mouth with an obscenely wet pop. While his finger slowly worked at Bilbo's entrance he busied his mouth my kissing up to the hobbit's navel. The king loved Bilbo's belly; it was rounded from his love of eating and extremely soft. He nuzzled into and was surprised when laughter broke out under him.

"Oh-oh-oh s-stop that!" Bilbo laughed. When Thorin looked up at his questioningly, his fingers frozen in place, Bilbo chuckled and patted the top of Thorin's head. "Your beard…it tickles!"

A grin spread across the king's face. "Oh? You mean when I do this-?"

He rapidly buried his nose into Bilbo's stomach, moving his beard from side to side again the soft flesh. Bilbo yelped in surprise and burst into harder laugher. Thorin removed his finger from Bilbo and reached up with both hands and clutched Bilbo's biceps so he couldn't fight back. He brought his chest down, pinning Bilbo's hips as he continued his assault. Bilbo twisted from side to side, his laughter filling the room as he tried to escape. His laughter was light as chimes in a breeze and it made Thorin remember sweet times from his youth basking in the sunshine of the spring.

The assault stopped.

"I love you."

The comment caught Bilbo a bit by surprise. Thorin was over him, his face only inches away. His eyes were serious but his mouth was upturned into a goofy smile that warmed Bilbo's heart.

"You are my everything, Bilbo Baggins."

Bilbo chuckled and closed his eyes.

Welcome back Thorin.

"I love you too Thorin," he whispered, adding a quick peck of the lips.

Their lips connected again, softly at first before they renewed the heat between them. Tongues darted out to meet each other and hips began grinding together looking for that blessed friction. Thorin began working at his entrance once more, adding one more finger and another when he saw fit. At some point the lubricating oil had been taken from their nightstand and was applied to those thick fingers that were continuously working at him. Bilbo panted beneath him. His eyes had closed at some point. A low hum pulsed through his body with the movement of those fingers until he found it wasn't enough.


The fingers were suddenly gone from him leaving him feeling a little empty. But soon enough something considerably large was butting up against him. The entry was brutally slow. The hands which once held his wrists were gone, being used to support the sturdy body of the dwarf king. Thorin's eyes were locked onto his, drinking in the expression Bilbo made as he slowly pushed into him; the mix of pain and wanting that happened with every coupling made Thorin growl low in his throat and push in a little further. Bilbo's knees clung to the sides of Thorin's hips and his hands gripped at his muscular back.

Thorin paused and waited for the tension to fade from Bilbo's face. After a minute or two Bilbo's eyes slowly creaked back open.

He frowned. "I'm not made of glass."

The king gritted his teeth and sunk in impossibly further. Bilbo's toes curled as he let out a drawn out moan. His back arched and his head sunk further into the pillows as Thorin back to slowly rock in and out of him. Bilbo's already ragged breath turned even more labored.


Word in Khuzdûl tumbled out of Thorin's mouth as moved with a greater speed. Bilbo, while still lost in his ecstasy couldn't understand many of the words but he was able to catch a couple appeals to Aulë and mentions of love, tightness and something about springtime that Bilbo didn't quite catch. But he had no intentions of asking; his throat felt like it was about to bubble over with moans and a strange tingling was beginning to flutter through him. Thorin's eyes were squeezed shut. Somewhere along the way the pair had intertwined their hands. Bilbo's legs remained wrapped around Thorin's jerking hips, which Bilbo noticed were beginning to lose their rhythm. The King Under the Mountain was slicked with sweat and his brows were furrowed in concentration.

Hesitantly Bilbo raised his head to press his lips to Thorin's shoulder.


The question was interrupted as Bilbo nipped at the flesh there.


The hobbit mocked what Thorin had done to him earlier, alternating between biting and sucking at the flesh there. He noted the rhythm of the hips slapping against his faltered greatly. His once gritted teeth opened into a gaping mouth as he gasped for breath.

"Bilbo, I-"

Bilbo hummed against his skin.


Bilbo's mouth released his shoulder with a gasp. His fingers slipped away from Thorin's to flick at his lover's hard nipples and his eyes looked up into the ones above him.

"T-Thor-in, I-I-"

Before Bilbo could manage out the words his body released like the snap of a rubber band. He gave out a cry that bounced off the walls of room and somewhere within that cry was his own name being yelled out.

What followed were several minutes of relative silence where both lovers lay in place trying to catch their breaths. It was hard to ignore the stickiness between their bodies but neither was willing to move. Bilbo's lower half throbbed from Thorin's roughness, and Thorin's back ached from being out of practice. When Thorin removed himself from Bilbo all the smaller male could do was squeak at the obscene noise and the emptiness.

"You…you were…"

Thorin huffed. "Out of practice?" His voice was lazy and deep, and somehow a little unsure of himself.

"Perfect," Bilbo corrected gently. He began tracing the thick black lines of Thorin's tattoos that he had on his arms. Some were old from before Bilbo had met him, others were new. All were lines of patterns mixed with Khuzdûl.

The tracing made Thorin rather relaxed as he came down off his sex induced high and he thought of how he would be so happy to fall asleep just like this. He shifted so he was beside the hobbit and he was able to draw him into his arms.

"What about the mess?" Bilbo inquired.

"It matters not," Thorin yawned.

Bilbo quirked a brow. "Wouldn't you rather not-"

Thorin's lips found their way to Bilbo's pointed hobbit ears. "You're just going to get messy again as soon as I'm able."

Another flush found its way from Bilbo's ears down to his chest. All he could do was manage to nod and add, "That wouldn't be entirely opposable."

"Sleep for now my dear."

Bilbo smiled and once again was grateful that his husband had returned to him. When he closed his eyes he quickly fell into a dream full of mountain sunshine.