Work Text:
@DisD86
My brother has been stuck in his car since the afternoon. He is near Bywater, 1844 Westfarthing St., Shire. He is running out of gas. We tried our best to reach out to the fire department, police, and tow companies, but didn’t get any help yet.
Any help/suggestions would be really appreciated.
Bilbo Baggins wasn’t a habituated Reddit user. In fact, he wasn’t even registered before Bofur showed him a post some weeks ago. Bilbo was having trouble with his snapdragons, and Bofur was kind enough to look it up on Reddit for him. After that, Bilbo found himself checking the website regularly. Never posting, but lurking in the subreddits for gardening.
Although after about a week, he had found out that he didn’t need the Reddit post on the snapdragons at all. It wasn’t anything he was doing, or not doing. It was just that winter this year was proving to be much harsher than expected.
That was why he was sitting on his couch with a blanket, a cup of hot tea, and his laptop at 9 pm on a Saturday. Not that he was a big crowd guy, mind you. He liked keeping his own company. It would get too lonely at times, though, being on your own every night in a big family house. At times like those, he liked going out to the nearby pub and having a couple of drinks with friends. But today he was comfortable at home. He doubted anyone would be out in this snowstorm anyway. So, Reddit it was.
He was thinking of retiring to bed when he saw the post. It was only a fifteen-minute walk from Bag End. He checked for any useful comments or an update (and found none) before getting up to get ready. Well, he didn’t have anything better to do. He also wasn’t fond of the idea of waking up to news of a frozen body found near his house.
@bagginses
I live near there. If you could provide me with the model of the car and a name, I think I might be able to help.
Two layers of sweaters, the puffiest jacket he could find, a thick scarf, his favorite beanie, and a pair of winter gloves later, Bilbo was almost ready to head out. He grabbed a backpack to throw in what the poor guy might need. Shot a text to Bofur with his live location, just in case, before leaving.
An old black Chevrolet Suburban with a Thorin Oakenshield trapped in it. Right. He could figure out what that looked like. At least the car itself, he could find online. Though he realized that it didn’t really matter once he got out. None of the cars on the street were recognizable. They were all covered in snow.
The paths were invisible, so Bilbo had to trust his memory of where the sidewalks ended. It was freezing out, the heavy snowfall and wind making it all worse. The snow came up to his calves. He was glad to have come out overprepared; he didn’t want his nose freezing and falling off halfway to the car.
It was after about thirty minutes of struggle in the snow that he spotted a car half-covered in snow. It looked like what he saw on the internet, and its location fit the description. Even though he couldn’t see a person in there through the steamed windows, Bilbo decided he would give it a shot.
Peeking into the car from the driver’s side window, Bilbo confirmed his suspicions. A man was indeed in the car, his eyes closed. Hopefully, it was Thorin Oakenshield and an alive one at that.
“Oh, God. No dead bodies, please.” Bilbo muttered.
In hindsight, it would have been better not to freak out the man he was trying to rescue. But Bilbo was tired, and the idea of knocking on his window seemed reasonable. He couldn’t have predicted that the man would startle out of sleep with a yelp so loud that it would make Bilbo himself wince.
Two pairs of wide eyes stared at each other for a few seconds until the man could collect himself enough to ask, “What do you want?” at the same moment as Bilbo asked, “Thorin?”
There was another moment of confusion before they both spoke at the same time again.
“No. You’re Thorin! I’m- I’m not- I mean, are you Thorin?”
“Wha-? How do you-?!”
It was already hard enough to communicate through the closed window, and the wind blowing in Bilbo’s face certainly wasn’t helping. He took a deep breath as he motioned for the man to roll the window down.
“Hello. My name is Bilbo. Are you Thorin? Your sister sent me.” He said as soon as the man complied. “I have supplies.” He pointed to his backpack.
The man’s eyes narrowed for a moment, searching for something, then he nodded toward the passenger door. “Yes. I am Thorin. Come in.”
Inside the car was warmer than Bilbo had anticipated. He quickly realized that if he stayed long, the ice on his clothing would melt and he would be cold and wet all the way home. Still, the warmth was relaxing. So much so that he almost forgot there was a reason he was there.
Thorin cleared his throat, which caused Bilbo to actually turn and look at the man for the first time. Thorin was not what Bilbo was expecting. Not that he was expecting anything specific. No, he hadn’t imagined the appearance of the man he was rescuing.
It was just that Thorin wasn’t what one would imagine as a man who needs help in a situation like this. If anything, he looked like he should be the one helping. He was a large man compared to Bilbo. His turtleneck hugged his body tight, showing some muscle. It was entirely too thin for the weather, which explained why he couldn’t just walk out of the car. The man would freeze in a minute!
A loud sigh made Bilbo realize that he was there to stop that from happening. Not to stare at the unfortunate man. Who seemed more annoyed than anything with each passing second.
“Right. Um. Sorry.” Bilbo fumbled for a moment. “As I’ve said, I’m Bilbo. Dis sent me to help you.”
Thorin was staring at him with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. He looked like he was expecting Bilbo to say or do something. It was a few seconds until he started speaking. “Are you some sort of a fireman then?”
Bilbo huffed a laugh as he took off his backpack. “No, no. I’m just a responsible citizen with a bagful of blankets.”
“Thought as much. You look more like a grocer.”
That was mostly a murmur, but given the proximity, there was no way Thorin didn’t know Bilbo would hear it.
“This is what I get trying to help out a stranger on Reddit.” Bilbo thought, but didn’t say. Because earned or not, he wasn’t going to have a row with a stranger in his car in the middle of a blizzard. He pretended not to hear him and unzipped the bag.
“I have a scarf, an extra jacket, a flashlight for emergencies,” Bilbo kept removing item after item, throwing them into Thorin’s lap as he counted them. “a bottle of water if you need some, a blanket, and fish crackers just in case you’re starving.”
“I wasn’t. What’s the plan exactly?” Bilbo was starting to believe he was being tested. He had bothered to carry all that, and he wasn’t even getting a thank you. Not even a tiny grateful nod. No nothing. Just immediate questioning.
He took a breath to keep himself from rolling his eyes at the man and answered. “I don’t know. Do you have somewhere to go? If not, there is a nearby inn I could walk you to.”
“No need. These are enough. I’ll find my way there. You go home.”
It was obvious by then that Thorin wanted nothing to do with Bilbo, and he was pretty blunt about the whole thing. Why was Bilbo offering to walk him to the inn anyway? Humanitarianism. Right.
“You really shouldn’t be walking alone in a blizzard at night. Especially in a place you don’t know well.” He tried to reason.
“Weren’t you doing that exact same thing five minutes ago to come here?” Thorin was trying to wrap the scarf around his head now. It was proving to be a hard task for the man, especially with his flowing hair.
“Well, I grew up in this neighborhood. I can give a tour of it with my eyes closed!” That was an exaggeration, but Thorin didn’t need to know that.
Thorin was silent for a few seconds. “You said the inn was nearby?”
“Yeah, it’s about a ten-minute walk from here.”
“Alright then.” Thorin nodded. “I have another question.”
“Hmm?”
Thorin held up the jacket Bilbo had brought for him. “How am I supposed to wear this?”
It turned out he wasn’t supposed to wear it, since he literally couldn’t fit into it. The fourth time trying it in a different way made Bilbo realize maybe he should’ve brought another jacket. Any other jacket. Something from his father’s old wardrobe, maybe. Or one that was forgotten by a friend. Or that one jacket he had bought for an ex, but never got the chance to give because they had broken up over the phone. Any other jacket but the one he was planning on donating, since it was too small for him.
At least he and Thorin had one common quality. The jacket definitely didn’t fit either of them. Thorin was left wearing the jacket like a cloak, the top two buttons meeting on his chest while the rest dangled unbottened. He had another layer of blanket covering him at least, so Bilbo was sure he would survive.
It was around the twenty-third minute of their “ten-minute walk” when Bilbo lost patience. Thorin had been muttering complaints to himself ever since they left the car. He would also complain loudly once every couple of minutes, and it was starting to get to Bilbo’s nerves. He was mid-complaint when Bilbo decided he had a thing or two to say as well.
“Ten minutes he said. How did you think we’d get there? By sprinting? Or with a-“
“Oh, I’m sorry, I underestimated the distance! Would you rather stay in your car and wait until you become a popsicle?!” Bilbo’s sudden remark stopped Thorin in his tracks, and he turned to look at him. There was no coming back now. “And also, who wears only a turtleneck in this weather?! Have you seen the weather? Does your house have no windows? Are you perhaps an escaped inmate from a nearby prison? Is that why you’ve completely forgotten about manners?!” Bilbo exhaled loudly once he was finished.
That was apparently enough to shut Thorin up for the moment. For the next couple of minutes, they walked in silence. Bilbo was now walking a couple of steps ahead instead of waiting for Thorin. His obligation to Thorin came from his conscience. Still, that didn’t mean he had to be exceptionally polite to the man. Especially if he was being quite the opposite.
Some minutes later, Thorin made the effort to catch up to him. “How long until we reach the inn?” he asked. They were walking side by side again. Bilbo could feel Thorin’s eyes on him, but kept his eyes on the road. The snow had gotten worse, making Bilbo worry about his way back home.
Bilbo pointed to the wooden sign of Beorn’s without looking at Thorin. “We’re almost here.”
He was right that time. Two minutes later, they were walking up to the door. He pushed the door and was met with warmth. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d been until he stepped through the threshold. The fireplace in the small lobby was lit, providing the entrance with cozy lighting.
From behind him, Bilbo heard Thorin’s sigh of relief. He couldn’t imagine how cold Thorin must have been. Suddenly, he got the urge to grab the man and shove him near the fireplace until he was absolutely snug and comfortable.
Before he could think about why that was an inappropriate thought, he heard shuffling from behind the reception desk. Beorn soon appeared behind the desk.
“Bilbo!” He was already stepping from behind the desk to greet him. “What are you doing here in this weather?” Before Bilbo could get a word in, the tall man’s hand was on Bilbo’s shoulder, pushing him toward the fire. “Come in, come in. You’re cold. We can’t have Little Bunny freeze now, can we?”
“You have to stop calling me that at some point, you know.” Bilbo chuckled as he walked. He looked over his shoulder at Thorin. He looked a bit uncomfortable about the friendliness of their host, but he walked toward the fire without a word.
They were seated on the armchairs when Beorn finally realized he had another guest. “Who’s your friend?” He gestured to Thorin with his head.
“Oh, he’s not- We don’t-“ Bilbo saw Thorin glaring at him from the corner of his eye. “Beorn, this is Thorin. Thorin, this is Beorn, an old friend of mine.”
Thorin grumbled something in acknowledgment. Beorn was eyeing him carefully. After a second, he turned back to Bilbo. “Don’t get me wrong, you and anyone you consider a friend are always welcome here, Bunny. But why are you here right now?”
Bilbo turned to Thorin, expecting him to explain why he needed a room. But the man wouldn’t speak or even look at them. Bilbo had half a mind to leave right then and let Thorin handle his own affairs. But that wouldn’t be fair to Beorn. Sure, Beorn would be more than capable of handling Thorin’s crude behavior, but Bilbo didn’t want to trouble his friend. That was all. He had no other reason for staying. The strange desire to see Thorin safe and sound certainly wasn’t a reason.
“Thorin here needs one of your rooms for tonight.” He tried. “And I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I’m warmed up.”
Beorn shook his head. “Unfortunately, my rooms are full for tonight. The last room was rented not ten minutes ago.” He got up and looked out one of the windows. Bilbo was about to protest and press for a solution when he spoke again. “But this is no time to refuse to keep someone. He is welcome to remain in the lobby until things calm down out there. And you,” Beorn turned to Bilbo, “You shouldn’t walk back home alone. Let me walk you back once you’re warm enough.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Looking back out the window, he wasn’t really sure about that. The snow seemed to worsen by the minute, and it was already up to his knees. Thankfully, Beorn gave him a look that clearly meant he was being stupid, thinking Beorn would let him go alone.
“Cup of tea?” His friend was already walking toward the kitchen. Bilbo nodded with a smile on his face.
The room was silent except for the crackling of the firewood after that.
“So it’s fine when you do it.” Bilbo heard Thorin mutter. Oh, he was done with this attitude.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. I just thought you weren’t supposed to walk in a blizzard alone, but I guess it’s fine when you do it.”
Bilbo sighed. What was his problem?
“I told you. I know this place like the back of my hand.”
He heard a snort. “Like that’s gonna matter in the dark when it’s this cold.”
“Why do you care so much?” Bilbo snapped.
Thorin’s eyes finally turned to his face, and he earnestly wished they didn’t. He hadn’t noticed the man’s eyes earlier in the dark. They were a shade of cold blue, yet they carried so much emotion. Too much emotion for a conversation this unimportant. The man might’ve looked stoic to Bilbo before, but it was obvious that one could see all he’s feeling in his eyes. Unfortunately -or maybe it was fortunate- Bilbo didn’t know the man well enough to do that.
“Why did you care in the first place? You’re not responsible for me. This isn’t your job. You don’t have the knowledge or the equipment to deal with any of this. So why did you care? What were you doing?! Why did you come?!” Thorin was raising his voice more with each question. Not yelling, but passionately questioning. What Thorin was passionate about, Bilbo didn’t know.
“I was trying to be a responsible citizen.” Bilbo was sounding less certain than earlier, and he hated that. “Would you rather I didn’t come at all?”
“Yes, I would if I knew you at all.” He sounded bitter. Bilbo was starting to get confused.
“What? What does that even mean?”
“It means that you were irresponsible. Irresponsible to your loved ones. To those who would worry about you. You obviously don’t know how to survive out there. You’re not even wearing proper clothing for fucks sake. You could’ve got yourself killed if you took a wrong step, coming over all alone. So, yes, maybe I would rather not have the death of a ‘responsible citizen’ on my conscience!”
A scoff escaped Bilbo. The audacity of this man was astounding. “If you know how to survive in a snowstorm so well, why were you trapped in your car with nothing but a single layer of clothing? Also, maybe you should’ve considered your conscience before you asked for help on Reddit! How do you think I would cope with someone being found dead near my home when I knew I could help them?”
They were staring at each other now. Plan to seek warmth from the fire, all forgotten. “When I asked Dis for help, I meant for her to call the fire station or a tow truck or something. I didn’t think she’d be sending any five-foot guy with a blanket in the area my way!” Thorin spat.
“Well, don’t worry. This five-foot guy with a blanket has no intention of coming your way again!”
The wind had picked up. The force of it rattled the windows, making a whistle sound. They were avoiding each other’s eyes again. Bilbo had fixed his gaze on the flames when he realized his bag was buzzing. He zipped it open to try to find his phone before the caller hung up. It was Bofur calling. Normally, he would leave the room, or at least take a couple of steps away to answer a call. But he was cold and had no intention of walking away from the fire. He also didn’t want to look like he was accepting defeat with their little spat. If Thorin was bothered, he was welcome to wander away.
He sent a glare Thorin’s way before answering the phone. Bofur was fairly worried since Bilbo hadn’t answered any of his texts in the past hour. “No, no. I’m fine, Bofur. I’m at Beorn’s.” He listened to his friend fuss and chuckled before he answered. “No. You don’t need to do that. Beorn said he’d accompany me, but thanks.” Speaking to Bofur had fixed his sour mood immensely; he was grinning about something or another that Bofur said before he knew it.
His grin vanished from his face when he noticed Thorin was watching him. He turned his head away to avoid meeting his eyes, but the man’s stare was relentless. He gave up. “Yeah. I’ll ring you when I get home.”
He sighed and looked at Thorin. “If you need to call someone,” He waggled his phone in the air.
“Mine’s been dead for a while. My sister might appreciate an update.” At least Thorin finally had the decency to look thankful, or ashamed. Bilbo didn’t know which it was, but he was overjoyed to finally see either of those things in the man’s face.
Bilbo held out his hand for him to take the phone. Their hands brushed for a moment. Thorin’s hand was warm. Like he wasn’t almost frozen just now.
The audacity of this man, to have the attitude and the eyes and the warm hands.
He dialed his sister quickly, getting up and walking to the window. His voice was low, but Bilbo caught a muttered “Couldn’t you find anywhere else to ask for help but Reddit?” and something about having to find a place to stay. Beorn returned with a tray full of tea and biscuits. He was stirring his tea when Thorin returned with his phone.
“Thanks.”
After all Bilbo had done for him, it was a phone call that granted him some gratefulness. He’d take it. “You’re welcome.” He said with a mocking smile and took his phone back.
“How do you two know each other then?” Beorn asked.
Before Bilbo could answer, Thorin decided he could use his mouth to do something other than sneering and answered. “We don’t, really. Bilbo here decided to play hero by leaving his comfort at home to save a stranger from a blizzard.” He looked mad about something that Bilbo couldn’t place. He also seemed to look thankful, but Bilbo knew it was a mocking look of someone who was only proving their point.
And prove his point, he did. Beorn was concerned. “That is Little Bunny. He should really learn some self-preservation. Or how to have someone help him before he gets himself killed.” It was an obvious scolding intended to sound appreciative. Bilbo rolled his eyes and glared at Thorin.
He wasn’t that bad. Yes, there had been instances he had put others over himself, but this wasn’t like that. He knew he would be fine, and he was. Everyone had to stop acting like walking out in the snow was some sort of suicide mission.
He took another sip of his tea and decided to change the topic. “How come you’re fully booked? You’re never full.”
“It’s the weather. People noticed they wouldn’t be able to drive home, so it’s mostly last-minute guests.” Beorn explained.
“I see, some people had windows in their workplaces,” Thorin said with a small smile. Bilbo frowned at him, but couldn’t help his chuckle.
“And then there are the regulars who can’t seem to buy a house and settle down.” Their host continued. Ascending steps could be heard from the stairs, and soon an old man with long grey hair and a beard appeared in the doorway. “Speak of the devil,” Beorn mumbled.
“Gandalf?” It was two voices that questioned the old man’s entrance.
Thorin and Bilbo looked at each other in confusion. Similar frowns were placed upon their faces.
“You know Gandalf?” Thorin asked first.
“Yes, he-“ Bilbo blinked. “You know him?”
“Yes, he does. And I know all three of you. Isn’t that wonderful, friends?” It was Gandalf himself this time, walking over and placing himself in one of the armchairs.
Beorn grumbled and got up to bring one more cup of tea. The other two were still in their seats, confused.
“How?”
“He was a friend of my mother’s,” Bilbo answered without thinking.
“That is right. Although I like to think I have grown to be your friend also Bilbo. Have I not?”
“Yeah, sure. How about you two?”
“Business,” Thorin answered simply. “He advises my company.”
Gandalf reached the table to steal a biscuit to nibble on. “Indeed, I do. Whatever happened to that deal of yours with Thranduil?”
Thorin scowled when the name was mentioned. “We decided against it. But this is no place to speak business.”
“Right, then. What are you guys doing here? Staying here for the night?”
“I’m afraid not.” Beorn was back with Gandalf’s tea. “I don’t have any rooms available.”
“Oh. I am sorry to hear that. I adore Beorn’s breakfast.” The old man took his tea from Beorn and blew on it before asking. “I suppose you two will be on your way to Bag End then?”
“What is a bag end?”
“It’s where I live. ” He answered Thorin.
He shook his head. “Oh. No, then. No Bag End. I’ll find a place to stay. Just warming up here.”
“Whyever not?” Gandalf was looking at him like he said the stupidest thing he could’ve imagined. “Erebor is a far way from here. You do not have a place to stay. Bilbo shouldn’t walk all the way alone and has many rooms to share. It is perfect.”
“No, Gandalf-“ Bilbo tried to interject.
“I’m sure there are other hotels around-“
Grabbing another biscuit, Gandalf answered in a joyful manner. “But there isn’t! Why do you think I became a regular here? It certainly wasn’t because of Beorn’s kind hospitality.”
“You’re drinking my tea, old man. I’d watch your mouth.” Beorn warned.
“See. No, Beorn. You are a great host. Thanks for the tea. But my point is that he will not be finding any available lodgings near here, is he?”
The taller man nodded. “No, that is true. We are the only establishment within walking distance, unfortunately.”
“There it is. It’s settled then. Thorin shall sleep over at Bag End.”
“Nothing is settled. I can sleep in my car, it’s fine,” grumbled Thorin at the same time as Bilbo said, “It’s just that we don’t know each other at all, Gandalf. I don’t think that would be-“
“Oh, what’s there to know? I know you both, and I say you’re both trustworthy. Isn’t that enough?”
“Well, still-“
Gandalf pointed his biscuit at Thorin. “Thorin Oakenshield, head of the Durin and Co., loving uncle of two and insane enough to suggest sleeping in a car to not bother you in your home.” His hand turned Bilbo’s way. “Bilbo Baggins, interested in gardening, loving owner of a four-bedroom home, and stupid enough to suggest walking there alone. Does that satisfy you?”
They were both silent this time. Even Beorn had nothing to say to that. When put like that, it sounded sensible, in a way.
Bilbo turned to Thorin with caution. “If you are okay with it, there are three very empty bedrooms.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose-“ Thorin started to say, but he was interrupted by Gandalf again.
“You’re not imposing. I’ve imposed already. It is fine. I am going back to my bed, now that it is handled. I do not want to hear of any frozen friends in the morning.” Gandalf put his untouched tea on the table and started towards the stairs.
“Hey, Gandalf!” He couldn’t stop himself from asking. “What are you doing here?”
“Handling some urgent business.” Gandalf smiled. “None is as important as this one, though.” He gave Bilbo a wink before disappearing.
It was settled. Bilbo was letting a complete stranger sleep in his house because he couldn’t argue with Gandalf.
They were back in the doorway, preparing to go out again. Beorn brought a jacket to lend to Thorin. It was big for him, but he thanked Beorn and wore it.
Just before they left, Beorn took Bilbo to the side and whispered. “I could still come with, you know.” When Bilbo peered at Thorin and shook his head, he lowered his voice even more. “Okay. But let me know if something happens.” He scanned Thorin one last time before letting them go.
Snow had slowed down, but it was obvious that it had snowed hard during the time they were inside. It went past Bilbo’s knees. Making their way back to Bag End was a new level of struggle. Thorin was having much less trouble now that he had thicker clothing. It was Bilbo slowing them down this time. With the snow up to his calves, each step was a whole task. That wasn’t a problem Thorin was having, thanks to his height.
Thorin would slow down and wait for Bilbo every couple of steps, so as not to leave him behind. Bilbo felt bad about making the man wait longer than necessary, yet there was nothing he could do. He knew if he tried to rush his steps, he would faceplant into the snow immediately.
They made their way silently. Neither of them wanted to lose energy by talking. They had evidence to believe that the conversation wouldn’t be pleasant anyway. So they kept to themselves. It was enough if they survived; they didn’t need to form lifelong bonds.
The cold was bad, yes. But the worst was the exhaustion, in Bilbo’s opinion. He’d been outside for over an hour, with the exception of a little break at Beorn’s. The backpack felt like it was getting heavier for some reason, too. His boot got stuck in the snow for the fourth time that day, and he was considering just giving up. He was tired. He could lie in the snow for a while, maybe take a nap, freeze to death while he was at it. There were worse ways to go, surely. He closed his eyes to take a breather, only for a moment.
The sensible part of his brain was trying to convince him to get up. Because it would be embarrassing if the sun melted all of the snow by the morning, and his dead body was found on the dry concrete ground in the middle of a street. In Lobelia Sackville-Baggins’ street, no less.
He heard Thorin shuffle back towards him, and the next second, he was being hauled back up. Thorin’s hand was resting on his shoulder, and he was looking at Bilbo with a strange expression. He would’ve called it concern if he didn’t know better. No, Thorin was probably just upset about having to wait for him. “Are you alright?” Or maybe not.
“Yeah. I’m fine. I keep getting stuck, though.” Bilbo fixed his posture and forced his boot from where it was stuck.
Thorin held out his hand to Bilbo. “Give me the backpack. You’ll move more easily.”
Normally, Bilbo would protest. He’d say he was more than capable of carrying his own stuff. But he was exhausted, the bag was heavy, and the man was offering. It’d be torture for both of them to keep the backpack on and walk with the same agonizing pace. So, he handed out the bag as they kept walking.
They were walking side by side again. Thorin had slowed down a little for Bilbo’s sake. Bilbo could see his street by the time they talked again.
“Anyone at home you should be alerting about an unexpected guest?”
“Uhh. No. We’ve got the house all for ourselves.” Bilbo answered without thinking. He immediately regretted that. “Not that- Not that we’d- I-“ What was he saying? His brain must’ve been frozen, he thought. “I mean, no. There is no one to alert.”
“Good,” Thorin muttered. Bilbo gave him a frown. What did that mean? “Oh. I mean, I’m already bothering you. It’s good that I won’t be bothering anybody else.” Thorin tried to explain himself when he saw Bilbo’s look. “That’s what I meant.”
“Yeah, that better be true. Just because I live alone doesn’t mean people won’t notice if I’m killed. So, you know, be aware of that.” Bilbo chuckled.
Thorin looked at him again, and he seemed amused by the notion. “I was thinking the same thing. Just because I don’t know people here…”
“Let’s agree not to murder each other then.” Bilbo held out his hand. “Even though it would be really funny to watch Gandalf try to handle that.”
“Now, it doesn’t sound that terrible when you put it like that. It’s tempting to inconvenience Gandalf for a turn.” Thorin joked as he shook Bilbo’s hand. His hand was still much warmer than Bilbo’s, even after almost half an hour outside.
Something about seeing Thorin smile made Bilbo feel nostalgic. Nostalgic about what, he didn’t know. The feeling he got when he saw the smile was familiar. He couldn’t place the familiarity; it was like he’d seen the face before him in a dream once, but the contents of the dream were escaping him.
Thinking of these, Bilbo stumbled for the umpteenth time when they were going into his street. Thorin was walking close enough to catch him by the arm, so at least Bilbo wasn’t on the ground. He let out a loud sigh and got his footing back by supporting himself on a tree.
“Let me help,” Thorin said, not letting go of his arm yet. “Just lean on me, okay? It’s easier for me to walk, so I’ll catch you. We’ll make our way quicker.” Bilbo was once again too tired to protest; he nodded. As he put his hand on Thorin’s shoulder, he felt Thorin’s arm wrap around his waist loosely. Bilbo had to remind himself that this was just convenient, and that the man was still a stranger. He had no reason to notice the heat of the man’s body, their height difference, or how his arm felt around his waist. In fact, he needed to stop noticing those things.
“So, how far is this Bag End?” Thorin asked. Bilbo was grateful for the distraction.
“Almost there.” He pointed at the end of the street. “See that green door?”
“I do. How could I not? It’s very…green.”
“I just got it done. I think it looks good. Gives the place some character.”
“It’s also functional.” Bilbo looked at him with a frown, and Thorin explained. “For when you’re stuck in a snowstorm with a stranger who doesn’t know what your house looks like. I wouldn’t understand where to go if you mentioned a detail from any other house. But a green door. I don’t think I’ll miss that one.”
Bilbo snorted while taking another step, which resulted in him almost slipping again. He grabbed onto the shoulder of Thorin’s jacket as Thorin’s arm tightened around him. Their faces were suddenly sort of close, Thorin’s eyes on him. Bilbo looked away, straightened up, murmured a thanks, and took his next steps extra carefully.
By the time they reached the staircase of Bag End, Bilbo was sure he was about to faint. It was a good thing they were about to enter the house. Unfortunately, there were still the stairs, and he despised them. He didn’t like the dozen steps leading up to the green door, even on a good day, but today they were basically his enemies. He sighed.
“I always knew these stairs would be the end of me. I simply can not climb them today. It’s fine. You can leave me here. It’ll be poetic-“ Before Bilbo could finish his sentence, he was picked up from the ground without warning.
Thorin readjusted him to carry him bridal-style and started climbing the stairs. “Sorry about this.” He said in a calm tone. “But it’s not getting any warmer here, and your whining is taking too long.”
Bilbo was too stunned to speak, so he kept silent, questioning in his mind how he got there. Thankfully, Thorin was quick with his steps. Before Bilbo could collect his wits enough to say anything, he was dropped right in front of the green door. They stared at each other for a few seconds, not saying anything. Thorin was slightly panting. Bilbo felt his breath quicken as well, although for a completely different reason.
After some awkward staring, Bilbo realized Thorin was staring at him in hopes that he would open the door and let him in. He fumbled to check his pockets, then the backpack, apologizing for the delay. At last, he found the keys in the bag, and they were in Bag End a few seconds later.
The first thing Bilbo did as he stepped through the threshold was run over to the control panel on the wall to readjust the heating system. It was warm inside. But Bilbo needed it to be scolding hot. He wanted to feel like he was in an oven.
After he made sure that he cranked up the heat as much as he could, he turned back and noticed Thorin was hovering near the door awkwardly. He walked over as he took off his jacket. “You can hang your stuff over there. Oh, here. Let me take the bag.” It was awkward for him, too. He hadn’t invited a new person home in a long time. He rushed his words to try to make Thorin feel comfortable. “Bathroom’s over there. I’ll get you a change of clothes if you want to wait in the living room. Oh, but the living room’s a mess. I’ll just prepare one of the guest bedrooms for you, how bout that? Yes. I’ll just- Oh, are you hungry? I should cook something-“
He stopped abruptly. There was a hand on his arm, and Thorin was standing closer to him now. “Before all that,” Thorin’s other hand landed on his shoulder. “Thank you. I know I haven’t been showing it, but I am grateful for all you’ve done for me.”
Cranking up the heat too much, it seemed like a terrible idea now, all of a sudden. Bilbo thought he must’ve overdone it. It was suddenly too warm in there. Bilbo could feel his cheeks heat up. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. “You’re welcome.” He answered shortly and looked away.
Thorin retreated his hands, and he looked back up to see the ghost of a smirk on the man’s lips.
It felt like the shortest and hottest shower of his life when Bilbo stepped out of the shower. He would stay much longer, maybe even draw a bath if he wasn’t in a rush. It still felt weird, leaving Thorin in the living room to warm up while he took a shower. It was offered to the man as well. Bilbo had asked him if he wanted to take a shower, but he’d said no. It felt strange to insist, so he hadn’t.
He rushed out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. An oversized hand-knit jumper and some pajama bottoms replaced his bathrobe. The head towel was draped on his shoulders to catch droplets escaping from his wet hair. He grabbed a ball of thick socks as he left the room, intending to put them on when he sat down.
Thorin was watching out the window when Bilbo walked in. He’d changed into the clothes Bilbo lent him. They were the most oversized ones he could find, and they still looked slightly tight on Thorin. Grabbing one end of the towel, Bilbo started to dry his hair that touched the back of his neck.
“It’s getting worse out there-“ Thorin turned around and let out a soft sigh at the sight of Bilbo.
“Yeah. We’re lucky it wasn’t this bad when we were out.” He hovered by the door. Thorin was staring at him with a strange look in his eyes. He held his gaze for a moment, but decided he wasn’t going to understand the reason behind the look just by looking at the man. He pointed his thumb toward the kitchen. “I’ll make some tea for us. Any preference?”
The man shrugged. “Whatever you have is fine.”
Shaking his head, Bilbo went and put the kettle on before he opened up the cabinet to find some biscuits to have with the tea. He decided against using his usual chipped mugs. He had a guest. Thorin was no fancy guest, but he was a guest nonetheless. He was on his tiptoes, trying to retrieve some decent cups, when he heard Thorin clear his throat from behind him.
“Let me,” he said before he stood right next to Bilbo and reached the shelf with ease. He looked down at him to ask, “Which one did you want?”
“Uh. The blue ones are fine.” Bilbo hung his head to hide the blush he felt. This was ridiculous. Thorin wasn’t even flirting with him. The man was merely existing as a tall person, and Bilbo was making it weird. “Thank you.” He muttered as he took the cups from Thorin’s hands.
While he busied himself with preparing tea and some sweets, Thorin was settling at the kitchen table. He asked without looking away from his work on the kitchen counter. “Uhm. So. What do you do for work?”
“I run the family business. How about you?”
“Ah. Do you know the library near Buckland?” He poured the boiling water.
Thorin hummed. “I think I brought my nephews there once for a story hour. You work there?”
“I don’t conduct the story reading myself, but yeah.” Bilbo handed him his cup. “ I remember Gandalf mentioned you had nephews.”
The mention of them brought a small smile to Thorin’s lips. “Yeah, my sister’s sons. Two little rascals. Do you have any?”
“No. I’m an only child. But I do have many younger cousins I see regularly.” Bilbo sat down across from Thorin with his cup in hand.
“That’s nice.” His eyes were on him again.
“I guess.”
“So, what do you do?” Thorin asked.
“Hm?” He took a sip of his tea, burning his tongue in the process.
“If you don’t read stories to children, I mean. What do you do there?”
Bilbo nodded in understanding. “Own and run it, mostly.”
“Own?” Two thick eyebrows shot up in question. “I thought it was a public library?”
“It’s a private collection with a funded library attached,” Bilbo explained. “Family heirloom, in a way.”
The wind was picking up, slightly shaking the windows. “Not that different from my occupation, then.”
“I guess not.”
Two pairs of eyes caught each other then. Thorin’s ice blue ones were scanning Bilbo’s face, trying to find something there. Bilbo’s gaze was questioning of that search. What was Thorin so interested in knowing?
Thorin gave up his search after what felt like hours to Bilbo. There was amusement in his expression now. “You really don’t remember, do you?”
“Hm?” A frown took its place upon Bilbo’s brow. “Remember what?”
There was no answer to his question now. Ice blue eyes were avoiding his gaze all of a sudden.
“What are you talking about? What did I forget?” Bilbo was quickly growing frustrated with his confusion.
There was another beat before he heard a response. “No. Forget it. It’s nothing.”
That was an unacceptable response for Bilbo. The man was hiding something from him. Something that he apparently knew as well, but somehow forgot. “No, no. Tell me.”
“It’s nothing.” Thorin shook his head and took another sip. “What tea is this? It’s delicious.”
“Stop trying to change the subject. What am I not remembering?” He exhaled loudly, trying to keep himself collected.
“Nothing, Bilbo.” He put the cup on the table with a clang. “Just let it go, will you?”
Bilbo attempted to protest once again. “But-“
“I should call my sister.” Pushing the chair back, Thorin got up from the table. He directed his steps to the living room, where his phone was plugged in. “She might be worried.”
“Right.”
Bilbo was left alone at the table. He stared at the plate of biscuits, then out the window, and tried to remember what he forgot.
The cups, the plate, and all of his leftover dishes washed and dried, Bilbo was looking for something new to do in the kitchen. He didn’t want to go into the living room and risk making Thorin uncomfortable. He’d already looked quite annoyed when Bilbo pushed him about the thing he forgot. He settled for organizing his spice cabinet as he racked his brain about what he could have forgotten.
Had Thorin told him something earlier? Was that what he forgot? Or maybe he’d asked for something. What could he have asked for? Was Bilbo supposed to give him something? Or maybe it had nothing to do with Thorin. Maybe he was forgetting something he was supposed to do for himself. But how could Thorin know something like that?
He kept thinking of the events of the last few hours over and over, yet he couldn’t place the missing piece. Thyme and dill were poured into small jars as Thorin walked back to the kitchen. He cleared his throat to let Bilbo know he was there.
“Uhh. Your phone keeps ringing, so I- uh, here.” He held out Bilbo’s phone for him to take.
“Thank you.” He quickly took his phone, making sure their hands didn’t touch. It was Bofur calling. He’d forgotten to let him know that he was well, he answered the phone to do so.
Thorin was silently lingering in the room, trying to look like he wasn’t listening in on the conversation and failing miserably.
“Hey, I’m sorry I forgot to let you know. We made it home safely.” There was no other noise in the room as Bofur’s muffled questions sounded from his phone. Bilbo lowered his voice as he answered him. “Yes, Bofur, we. He’s staying with me tonight.” Some more muffled questions. “No, not at all. Thanks. I’ll be fine. He’s alright. I’m safe and I’m home. Okay?” Bilbo chuckled, and Thorin pretended to swipe dust from the table, lowering his gaze from Bilbo’s face. “Okay. I’ll see you then. Bye-bye.”
There was still a smile on Bilbo’s face as he hung up. Thorin looked back up at him. He looked mad at something. Or maybe it was disappointment. He could be offended as well. Maybe it was all of them at once, or maybe the man just looked like that. Bilbo decided it was that. And even if it wasn’t, he had no business learning about the expressions and the matching feelings of the man. He wouldn’t see him, ever, after tomorrow morning.
“Jealous boyfriend?” Thorin asked with a casual tone.
It took Bilbo a while to understand that he was referring to Bofur, and he couldn’t help his snicker when he realized. “No. Just a concerned friend.” Thorin nodded. “But,” his eyes widened for a moment before Bilbo continued. “I assured him that you wouldn’t murder me in my sleep, if that’s what you’re worrying about. We have a deal after all.”
They looked at each other for a moment. They were both chuckling the next second. “Good to know.” The taller man said, and Bilbo didn’t know which part of his response he was talking about.
Standing in the kitchen, they kept gazing at each other for a few moments. Neither of them said anything, nor did they move. They weren’t standing close, but Bilbo felt that this was the first time they were really looking at each other. The air was charged with something unsaid. Bilbo didn’t know what the unsaid thing was. He only knew that he was feeling the urge to walk up to the man to kiss him.
That would be inappropriate. It would also be a mistake. He would ask Thorin first, of course. But that wasn’t the problem. The mistake would be the aftermath of it, whether Thorin was into it or not. If he wasn’t into it, he would reject Bilbo, they would act uncomfortable with each other for the rest of the night, and when the morning came, they’d never see each other again. That was simple. Unpleasant yet simple.
If he said yes, though, if Thorin was interested in Bilbo like that, that would be a whole different ordeal. He tried to imagine. Would they leave it at a kiss? Would they do more? How would that go? Or its aftermath? What about the morning? Would Thorin wake him before leaving, or just sneak out to never call again? Or would he stay for breakfast, maybe exchange phone numbers?
That was Bilbo’s problem. He was a dreamer and a writer as much as a reader. Once something got into his head, he’d think of every possibility it could evolve into, even the far-fetched ones.
But Bilbo knew Thorin wouldn’t be interested. And he would never get to hear that from Thorin because he’d never ask. Because they still barely knew each other. He also didn’t want to make his guest uncomfortable just because of some misread signals and long-lasting looks.
It was convenient that Bilbo had decided not to kiss Thorin. Because if he did, they’d be in the middle of it when Bilbo’s stomach growled loudly, and he would be mortified. It was still mortifying to have the loudest thing in the room be his stomach, but at least they were standing apart.
Thorin looked around in the room as if he couldn’t understand where the sound was coming from, which was bullshit. He was obviously trying to save Bilbo the embarrassment.
“I skipped dinner,” Bilbo explained sheepishly. “What would you say to some midnight cooking?”
“I could help. As long as I’m allowed to eat my share, of course.” Thorin was openly teasing him now.
“Oh, no. Sorry. I have another thirteen unexpected guests, we’ll have to share with them.” He was already opening the fridge, checking for the ingredients for what he had in mind.
Before he knew it, they were working together in the kitchen with easy conversation accompanying the sizzling skillet on the stove. They were much more comfortable with each other, talking about this or that as they moved around each other to reach for things. Thorin was not very skilled in the kitchen, but he was making up for it by following Bilbo’s instructions for the salad that was his designated task.
Bilbo was turning to get some eggs from the fridge when he walked into a warm wall that was Thorin’s chest. He hadn’t heard him walk behind him. Thorin smiled, put his hands on Bilbo’s shoulders to softly push him out of his way, and walked over to the sink to wash the carrots. It was a good thing Thorin was sound enough to push him out of his way because if it were up to Bilbo, they would be waiting for a while.
He was frozen in place, staring at the ground. Thorin kept talking, yet Bilbo didn’t hear him. It was like someone had pressed the pause button in his brain, and they were now rewinding his memory. Going back in time. Not to yesterday, not to a week ago. Instead, rewinding quickly to get to a certain night that he had lived over a year ago.
It was a long night. His memory of it was hazy. He remembered going to a bar, alone for the first time in forever. He remembered that he wasn’t looking for anything specific; he was only there to have some drinks and get over the fact that his blind date had stood him up earlier that day. He hadn’t been too upset about the date not showing up; he was more mad at himself for letting his friends convince him to go on a blind date.
He remembered he had more drinks than originally planned. He remembered making eyes at a handsome gentleman from across the bar for the better half of an hour. He remembered sitting and talking to that gentleman at a small table in the corner. And when he forced himself, when he focused enough, he also remembered stumbling into the bathroom with that gentleman in a rush. He remembered how he had pushed the man into the door of a bathroom stall, letting him kiss his lips hard enough to bruise before he got to his knees in front of the man.
He could only remember those details when he pushed, and he hadn’t had a reason to try before.
But Thorin’s odor was strong, and you know how smells tend to jog one’s memory.
“Bilbo?”
It was like waking from a sleep, the way everything slid back into place the moment he heard Thorin call his name. He’d heard that name uttered from that mouth before. In a much lower tone and over a year ago, but he had.
“Thorin?” he asked, confused.
It was many questions concealed as one. Was he Thorin? Of course, he was a Thorin, but was he that Thorin? Was that Thorin even named Thorin? Why couldn’t Bilbo recall? And did Thorin know that he was that Bilbo? More importantly, had he come all the way to his home to stay over, knowing that he was that Bilbo? And why hadn’t they talked after that, anyway? Was it bad? Or was it a one-time thing? Also, why was Thorin looking at him like that?
“Yes?” He looked amused at first. He waited for a moment for Bilbo’s reply before his face got a little worried. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”
“No, no. I’m fine.” Bilbo felt he could finally move, and he walked to the fridge to retrieve those eggs. “You take care of the salad.”
“Okay.” Thorin looked confused for a moment, but did as told.
That was good, because Bilbo needed a moment to process what he remembered.
Some minutes later, they were back at the kitchen table with skillet hash and salad on their plates. Thorin was about to take his first bite when Bilbo abruptly stood up to go to the pantry. He was holding a bottle of wine and its cork when he walked back. Thorin looked at him curiously as Bilbo retrieved a wine glass from the cupboard.
“I need a drink.” He explained. “Will you join me?”
“Sure.” The number of wine glasses went up to two.
Bilbo poured some wine into Thorin’s glass before handing him that and pouring a significantly more generous amount into his. Thorin looked confused by his behavior. He probably thought Bilbo was unstable. Hell, Bilbo wasn’t feeling that stable either. They really needed to unpack this.
He took a sip of his wine before he started unpacking. “So, were you not going to tell me this isn’t the first time we’ve met?”
Thorin’s hand holding the glass stopped before it could reach his mouth. “You remember that?”
“Didn’t at first. Now, I remember. No thanks to you.” Bilbo snapped. He couldn’t stop it. He was annoyed.
At least Thorin had the decency to look regretful at that. “I didn’t think it would matter.”
“Of course it matters! I would like to be aware of it if the man I’m inviting to stay over for the night is the same man I’ve pushed into a bathroom stall and suck-“
Thorin stopped him before he could finish. “Alright. You’re right.” There was a beat of silence before Thorin asked again, “That’s what you remember?”
“Yes! What else is there to remember?!” Bilbo felt exasperated. What was he forgetting now?
“Nothing.” Thorin shook his head and finally took his first sip of wine. “It was a long time ago. As I’ve said, I didn’t think it would matter.”
“Well, you were wrong.” For once, Bilbo decided he would let go. He didn’t have the strength to investigate further.
After that, Thorin tried to initiate conversation once or twice but failed. They ate the rest of their food in silence, both drowning their glasses with unexpected speed.
When they were finished, Thorin didn’t leave the kitchen despite how much Bilbo insisted he should. He stayed and helped clean up the mess they’d made. It was obvious he was trying to get back into Bilbo’s good books. Bilbo wasn’t expecting that. He knew he didn’t really have a reason to be pissed off, but something about Thorin not telling him made him mad. For a moment, he had felt like they could get along, that they could trust each other. But finding out that Thorin wasn’t being completely honest with him had made that feeling go away quickly. It made him realize that there was no reason to get along or trust each other since they were strangers, and they would keep being strangers after this. No amount of good conversation, attraction, or proven sexual compatibility was going to change that.
It was tiring, having to process these things in front of the man, right after surviving a snowstorm. Bilbo wanted nothing more than to fall into easy sleep, not having to ponder on this any longer. Even the physical exhaustion was easier to deal with than the confusing attraction.
He asked Thorin to follow him to one of the guest bedrooms. He peeked inside before he opened the door fully, checking if it was in proper shape. It wasn’t perfectly tidy, but at least it was clean.
“Here’s the room.” He switched the light on and pointed to the door on the left wall. “It has an attached bathroom if you need it.” Thorin stepped into the room and nodded, not saying anything. “I didn’t get a chance to change the sheets; they might be too thin. I’ll get you some blankets.”
“Thank you.” Thorin was giving Bilbo one of his incomprehensible looks again.
“Of course. ” Bilbo answered and stepped out of the room to go look for spare blankets. He was back within the next minute, the pile of blankets in his arms blocking his vision. He bumped into the doorframe as he walked back in. A second later, Thorin was taking the pile from his arms.
They were left standing in the middle of the room, staring at each other once again. Bilbo was the first one to talk. “Right.” He scratched his head, unsure if he wanted to leave all of a sudden. He couldn’t stand by the man’s bed all night, waiting for closure, right? He kind of wished he could, for a moment. He hoped the unresolved tension wouldn’t keep him up at night. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything, then. It’s the second door to the left.” He lingered for a moment longer before he decided it was time to leave. “Goodnight.”
Thorin mumbled his answer. “Goodnight.” He appeared to be in deep thought. He was staring, yet Bilbo doubted anything he’d said was heard.
Then, just as Bilbo was stepping out of the room for a final time, he heard Thorin call out. “Wait. Bilbo?”
He turned back. “Yeah?”
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I really didn’t think it would matter to you.”
“No, no, you’re right. I don’t know what I’m so worked up against.” He shrugged as he continued. “It obviously doesn’t matter. Apparently, it didn’t matter when it happened, so why should it matter now whether I remember it or not? We chatted for a bit and then hooked up. It’s not your job to remind me of something I’m supposed to remember. I’m sorry for making it a big deal.”
Thorin scowled. He seemed to be taken aback by something Bilbo said. “That’s not what happened.”
“What?” It was Bilbo’s turn to be confused now.
“We didn’t talk for a bit and -“ He cleared his throat as if saying it was making him uncomfortable. “and hooked up.”
“Oh, God. Is there more I’m not remembering?” Bilbo threw his head back and groaned, trying to remember. “I could swear I remember everything. It all came back to me. What is it that I can’t recall?”
“No, that’s not-“ Thorin shook his head. “That’s all we did. It’s only in the wrong order.” He took a step toward Bilbo before lowering his voice and adding, “There wasn’t much talking involved until after we were back out of the bathroom.”
Squinting, Bilbo nodded. He wasn’t sure what the use of this information was. “So, we, uh. We had sex, then sat down and got to know each other?”
“Pretty much, yeah. It was a good conversation. We talked for the rest of the night.”
“No, I remember that now. I guess I wasn’t aware of the order it happened. Don’t know why it matters, though.” He really didn’t. He wondered why Thorin was reminding him of this.
He got his answer soon. “I remember because at the time I thought I would’ve never walked into that bathroom with you, if I talked to you first. ” Thorin said with a serious face. Bilbo thought he might be joking, but no. If anything, he seemed to think his words were supposed to impress Bilbo. That was something.
“Oh?” Bilbo couldn’t control what his face was doing in his best times. This was definitely not that. He was glad there wasn’t a mirror in sight. He was not wondering what his face looked like when offended and surprised.
“Hmm.” Thorin hummed, confirming his former claim. Then, he looked at Bilbo’s face, and whatever he saw there made him realize he’d made a mistake in his choice of words. He scowled at Bilbo before taking up the solemn expression. “Not like that. I mean that if I’d known you, I wouldn’t want it to be a quickie. I’d have asked you out on a proper date.”
That was a much bigger surprise to Bilbo. His mouth hung open for a moment before he realized just because he couldn’t see himself in this mirrorless room, it didn’t mean Thorin couldn’t either.
“Oh,” he exhaled. “Hm. That- That’s nice.” Thorin wasn’t saying anything, just looking at Bilbo with his intense gaze. He wasn’t interrupting him. Bilbo wished he would for a moment. At least then he wouldn’t get a chance to voice his first thought to fill in the silence. “You could’ve still done that, though. I would’ve said yes. ”
“I did.” A corner of Thorin’s mouth curled, placing a small smirk on his face.
“I’m sorry, you- You did?” Bilbo was sure his ears were red by now. His face was heating up too. He felt like a flustered maiden with all his spluttering and easily flushed cheeks. This was too much. He was only trying to be a responsible citizen. How had he got there?
“Yeah, I got your number that night to try and set up a date.” Thorin looked more amused the more he could fluster Bilbo.
Bilbo hoped his voice was a normal tone. “How did that not work out then?”
“You tell me.” The smirk dropped from Thorin’s mouth, and he looked to be back at his sulky self again as he explained. “You see, it’s hard to take someone out on a date if they ignore your attempts at communication.”
“I’m sure I didn’t do that.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t have to date me. You were obviously not interested. I’m only saying these because you’re asking.” He insisted, yet his face showed no sign of the understanding his words offered. He wasn’t angry; he looked more defeated than anything.
The words rushed from out of Bilbo’s mouth, trying to explain himself. “No, but I did. I mean, even if I don’t remember. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t say no to you.” It was the truth. It was just one that Bilbo wasn’t aware he was willing to share. Thorin narrowed his eyes at him. He had to change the vibes. “Unless you’re like a serial killer, or something.”
Thorin’s face relaxed. “I would never. We have an agreement, remember?”
Bilbo couldn’t help but smile at him as he kept pondering. “Right. But why would-“ Then it hit him. “Oh.” He was an idiot. How could he not have thought of that? “Oh, I must’ve given you my old phone number. I changed my number, like, three days before that. I must’ve forgotten about that.” Because I’m an idiotidiotidiot, he added in his head.
“That seems to be a pattern with you.” He was starting to smile as well. Suddenly they were standing only a few steps apart.
“Oh, yeah. I have to take B12 pills weekly. Only if I wasn’t forgetting about them too.” Bilbo took a step toward Thorin. “Why didn’t you remind me, if you were really interested?”
It was Thorin’s turn to take a step. “Honestly, I was bitter about the unreturned phone calls. I thought you knew.”
“I didn’t.” Another step.
“I can see that now.” There was no space for another step. There was barely any space at all. Their toes were touching. Bilbo was tilting his head to look at Thorin. He caught the taller man’s eyes move to his lips, and the gaze lingered there as he asked. “Bilbo?”
It wasn’t a proper question, yet Bilbo understood. He felt his grin widen. He stood on his tiptoes until his face was centimeters apart from Thorin’s.
“Hm?”
His wasn’t a proper answer either, yet the implication was understood.
Thorin lowered his head, and in an instant, they were kissing. Fearing that he would lose balance, Bilbo threw his arms around Thorin’s neck. Bilbo guessed Thorin understood that too, by the way his arms wound around him immediately after. He felt his heart hammering in his ribcage and was sure Thorin could feel it too, with how close he was holding him. He was caged in there for what felt like seconds and hours at the same time.
The kiss wasn’t new. It was electric, but it wasn’t a shock. It was passionate in a familiar way. Bilbo knew it from before; they both did. He knew it like a song he’d heard before. He could recognize it, but didn’t know the lyrics. He could predict the next beat but couldn’t name it. The beat got more frantic and unpredictable the longer they stood there.
They were both breathing heavily when their mouths broke apart. Thorin rushed to dip down and busy his mouth on Bilbo’s neck. “Not to sound obsessive,” Thorin whispered into his skin, “but I couldn’t stop thinking about you for a long time after that night.” Bilbo’s hands slid into his hair, and he could only answer with a sigh as he tilted his head to give Thorin more room.
They stood there for a long time, busy, until the back of Thorin’s knees hit the bed, and Bilbo learned two things. That he wasn’t as tired as he thought, and that his own mattress was much softer than the ones he had in the guest bedrooms.
If there was one thing Bilbo despised, it was being startled awake, especially when he felt exhausted. He felt like he had taken a beating that morning; he wasn’t surprised when he considered the night before that. It was warm under the blanket, and he had snuggled up to the body under him while asleep. He was sleeping peacefully, so he wasn’t appreciative of it when a phone rang and robbed him of his peace.
He jumped up in bed and heard Thorin groan from under him. He helped Thorin up silently so that he could get out of bed and look for his ringing phone. He found it in the pocket of his pants, which was disposed of and thrown on the ground unceremoniously last night.
Bilbo threw himself back onto the pillows and tried to cozy up again. He could hear Thorin’s muffled conversation on the phone. Just as he started drifting back to sleep, he heard steps near the bed and opened his eyes to gaze upon a half-naked Thorin standing at the foot of the bed, staring at him.
“Good morning.” He mumbled.
“Good morning.”
Bilbo leaned on his elbows and readjusted to sit straight in bed. “Do you have to leave?”
His voice was hoarse, yet he was glad for it. At least Thorin couldn’t hear the disappointment in his words.
Thorin considered for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere to be.”
“Oh, good.” He couldn’t help but grin at the good news. “Then why aren’t you back in bed? Are you hungry? I should-“ He scrambled to get the blankets off himself until Thorin stopped him.
“No, no. Don’t get up. I was only admiring the view.”
Bilbo felt himself blush, but didn’t let that stop him from insisting. “Still. You must be hungry. We should have some breakfast.”
“Maybe.” Thorin smiled at him as he started climbing into the bed. “Or, if you’re amenable, we could get back to bed.”
Reaching a hand out to drag Thorin near himself, Bilbo laughed. “Oh? Only if I’m amenable? Seems as if you’ve made that call for me?”
“What can I say? I realized I have somewhere to be after all.” He dipped his head to place a soft kiss on Bilbo’s lips.
So, they were back in the guest bed with the tough mattress, surrounded by blankets, pillows, and each other’s arms. Snow continued to fall outside, yet neither of them seemed to care. They were where they were meant to be.