Chtuluchilipie Chapter 6: The Other Side

Summary:

Bilbo Baggins lives in a very old house split into half due to the ridiculous size. And no matter what his friends say, he absolutely does not have a crush on his hot as hell neighbor, Thorin Oakenshield. (He totally does)

Of course Bilbo noticed his neighbor. The man was impossible to miss; what with being tall, dark and handsome. It was more than that though, he was imposing in a manner that Bilbo hadn't seen before. The type of imposing that commanded attention and respect, just for being who he was. Regal. Kingly, almost. There was a bit of shallowness to it though, as Bilbo had to admit he loved Thorin's body. He'd always been the sort of guy to appreciate the beauty of the nude human form, which wasn't always as sexual as people made it out to be—but in this case, Bilbo couldn't really say his ogling was just appreciation for rippling muscles and tanned skin. Yet, Thorin also fascinated him. He was an interesting sort of man, the type of interesting that made Bilbo want to know. He was curious, and Thorin only enflamed it.

That didn't mean Bilbo had a crush on him, no matter what his best friend, Bofur, said.

Bofur was practically a pervert, anyway. He was destined to see romance ,or rather, lust, where it wasn't, and shamelessly flirt with almost anyone attractive that he got his hands on. He was the type of man to have exciting sex with strange people in strange places, that Bilbo really didn't want to hear about. Really, though, the chicken pen at the petting zoo? How did he pull that one off? To be blunt, Bofur had little to no boundaries. Which he was welcome to, it was his life after all, Bilbo certainly had no room to judge, or to infuse his own lifestyle upon others. It was a shame that his closest friends couldn't return the favor.

Prim was happily married for nearly a decade now, with a sweet husband and well behaved adorable son, they were the picturesque view for suburban bliss and ideals. She was always, or almost always, pestering Bilbo about settling down, about being happy. Why couldn't she just understand that he was happy this way? Writing and illustrating books in peace, taking nice long strolls around the park, by himself, sleeping in his nice big bed without having to worry about kicking someone in his sleep, or growing too hot from another's body heat. He was perfectly happy, and he didn't need a significant other. There was no gap in his life for another person to fill. His life was full enough as it was, and besides, he enjoyed his alone time, as was his introverted nature.

Bilbo wasn't getting any support from the Bofur front either, though. He may not have wanted the picturesque story-book suburban life Prim did, but that didn't mean he was satisfied with the state or Bilbo's bachelorhood either. He was always coercing Bilbo to go out and clubbing with him, to go to some strip club, or seedy bar and just have a nice old fuck with some stranger. He didn't understand that yes, while one-night stands were nice, Bilbo had no desire to sleep with random strangers for temporary gratification. Especially when he could get the job done himself. Besides, a temporary partner wouldn't know how to please him, how to touch him in all the right ways. No one knew Bilbo's body better than Bilbo, after all.

Just because he didn't want to go on a date with Prim's really nice and sweet friend, that most likely was a lovely man, or fuck some stranger in a car park, didn't mean that he had a crush on his neighbor. Because, he positively did not have a crush on Thorin Oakenshield, who hardly even knew he existed.

Just because he sometimes liked to look out the window and enjoy what was a very lovely view of Thorin's shirtless body while he mowed the lawn, didn't mean he had a crush. Just because he sometimes hovered near the mailbox when Thorin was getting off of work didn't mean he had a crush. Just because their separated houses was once a large single house, and Bilbo's bathroom was only separated from Thorin's by a very thin wall, and he sometimes heard Thorin sing, and knew he had a lovely voice and enjoyed listening to it, did not mean he had a crush.

Because he didn't. He positively did not have a crush. Really.

Bilbo was sitting in his favorite armchair, legs crossed, in an oversized jumper, glasses perched on his nose, watching an old 90's cartoon and eating a large bowl of cereal. Just the way he liked to spend his Friday evenings. Prim and Bofur usually came by an hour or so after this, for an adult sleepover, where they ate ice cream, drank wine, mocked celebrities and watched shitty telly. Except, Prim was having a date night, and Bofur had gone out of the town, (country, maybe?) for some ridiculous party. So on this particular Friday night, it was just him and Prim's son; Frodo. Whom he was supposed to be babysitting, but really only cast regular glances at, and commented on the obscure cartoon when he felt Frodo would appreciate it. The boy was completely engrossed, grinning at the bright screen.

If someone asked Bilbo, he would have said Courage the Cowardly Dog was a bit...disturbing. But it was Frodo's choice, and the lad seemed to be enjoying the show, so who was Bilbo to judge? Every person, no matter who they were, was entitled to their own tastes.

Cursing the dog internally for not being able to speak, he startled when he heard a quick and frantic knock at the front door. Frodo didn't move an centimeter, and stared at the screen without a flinch. For a moment Bilbo wondered if he had imagined it, then the knock came again, and he stood from his spot, dusting off his lap. Padding over to the front door, he opened it, smiling when he saw it was Dís, his neighbor and Thorin's sister. She lived with Thorin, or rather, he lived with her and her family, considering it was her, her husband, and her two sons, plus Thorin. Was that too crowded? Did Thorin want to move out soon? Why did he live with his sister and her family anyway? Not to say that that was a bad thing, he just didn't understand it. But maybe that was because he didn't want to understand it. Shaking off his strange thoughts, Bilbo flashed the tall dark haired woman a smile.

"Oh! Hello, Dís. How may I be of assistance?"

Looking more than a bit hurried and frazzled, Dís interrupted him. "Can I ask you a huge favor?"

Bilbo gulped, and cast a glance at Frodo, who was still staring at the screen with a glossed-over look in his eyes. "Well, it depends. I'm kinda babysitting my cousin's kid, so..."

"That's perfect!" She shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. Looking a bit embarrassed, she quickly quieted down. "You see, ah, Víli has had a bit of an accident involving his knife-throwing technique, and he needs stitches and I've got to run him up to the ER. Thorin is still at work and won't answer his cell or office phone, and I really don't have anyone else. So could you please, please, babysit Fíli and Kíli for an hour or so?" She begged, talking hurriedly.

Bilbo blinked. "Oh. Yes. Of course, no problem. Should I bring them over here...?"

"No! Just run on over next door, they've got to go to bed soon. And you can take your cousin's kid too! I really don't mind. Just— please!"

"Yeah. Yeah." He cleared his throat. "I'll be right over."

Dís pulled him in for a tight hug, smelling like lavender soap, kissing both his cheeks. "You are a saint. A saint, Bilbo Baggins!"

Smiling, and turning to Frodo he switched off the x-box and TV set grabbed his wallet and keys, and coerced Frodo out of the house and next door. He trailed in the house after her, fascinated that the design of their homes was flipped completely, and by their decor. Unlike his house, with its painted walls of earthly browns and reds, theirs was a deep sort of blue, very cool and calm as compared to his hungry and warm colors. Theirs was a bit more modern as well, with newer furniture that wasn't bought from antiques shops and bought from custom furniture makers like his was. It was different, but it was good.He liked it.Most of his interactions with Dís took place over community picnics and that sort. He'd even babysat her sons a few times, but they'd always been at his house, or for an hour or two in either of their backyards. So for that part, he'd never been inside their house before, despite that they'd been neighbors for over two years.

Hurriedly, Dís grabbed hold of her pale-looking husband, who'd nodded a greeting at Bilbo, clutching a towel to his hand, and barked at her sons that Bilbo was watching them and whoever was caught misbehaving got to go down to Beorn's farm and help clean up the horse poo. Quickly, the dark haired woman and her wheat-haired husband dashed out of the house, pulling out of the driveway, tires screeching.

Fíli and Kíli sat at the top of the stairs, staring down at Frodo and Bilbo.

"Oh! Hullo, boys. We've got two hours or so before bedtime. What do you want to do?"

Fíli rolled his eyes a little, carrying himself with the authority of any child who'd just turned ten, and fancied themselves an adult. He flicked his blond hair out of his eyes, taking after his father in that matter, but his eyes were very similar to Dís'. Kíli on the other hand, was seven, and jubilant at seeing Bilbo. His dark head bobbed up and down and he hopped, dark chocolate eyes a perfect copy of his father's. It amused Bilbo that they were obviously halved in this way. Fíli had his father's hair, and his mother's eyes. Kíli had his mother's hair, and his father's eyes.

"Can we watch tv?" Fíli said, just as his younger brother announced; "I'm hungry!"

"Did you eat dinner?" Bilbo asked.

The boys shook their heads. "Da cut up his hand just before they got started." Fíli explained.

"Hm." Bilbo said thoughtfully. "What do you say we order a pizza, then?"

"Yes!" Kíli shouted, jumping down from his perch on the fourth stair. He hugged Bilbo tightly. "You're my favorite Mister Boggins!" Fíli was a little more withdrawn, but Bilbo could see the clear excitement in his eyes as well. Frodo smiled shyly at Kíli, who started rattling off to him at rapid fire, and soon the three boys were on the couch, pulling out their controllers for their Wii-U and playing the newest Mario Kart game.

Running a hand through his hair, and smiling at the unexpected turn, Bilbo pulled out his phone and dialed for his favorite pizza place. Bofur's brother Bombur ran the restaurant, along with his wife Gilda, and their many children. The entire family was a blessing in the kitchen, each extremely skilled in culinary arts. He hoped that they wouldn't be too busy, considering it was a Friday night, and their lasagna was to die for.

Scratching his nose, he smiled when he heard the familiar tones of Bombur's quiet voice. "Yes, hullo Bombur. Could I get two large cheese pizzas as well as one liter of sprite?"

"Will that be carry-out or delivery?"

"Delivery. And oh, could you send your fastest driver? I'm watching three ravenous boys right now, and if they don't get some food soon I'm afraid we might a revolt on our hands."

On the other end, Bombur chuckled, noting that yes, of course, and to expect the delivery in fifteen to twenty minutes. Much to Bilbo's surprise and elation, it was shorter than that, the doorbell ringing a bit over nine minutes after his call. The boys ravaged the pizza like a pack of hungry wolves, and then they continued playing Mario Kart, Bilbo joining in on a round, muttering to himself angrily as he was pelted with a blue shell. Frodo cheered when he won first place, high-fiving Fíli and Kíli with cheer. Their only goal was to beat Bilbo at the game, and now that they had succeeded, the trio gloated, only pausing when Bilbo announced he was getting more pizza from the kitchen. The three boys turned to him with interested looks, and Bilbo assured them that yes, he would get them some as well. Humming to himself, he smiled, surprised at the fun he was having. It may not have been his usual Friday night, but it definitely was wonderful.

He returned with reinforcements, amused at the way they tore into the food like wild animals. He wondered go himself if they could even taste and savor the quality of the pizza. It was made with real mozzarella, and the dough was so thick and warm, expanding pleasantly in his mouth. He savored each bite, wiping his hands on his sweater right when a key turned in the lock of the front door.

Looking up, he met the shocked eyes of Thorin Oakenshield, still stepping through the door. Even tired and harried-looking, the man was still gorgeous. His jet locks were a bit disarrayed, begging to be combed through and touched. His tie was loosened, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing a lovely sliver of skin. His startlingly blue eyes were wide in surprise, but quickly settled into an unfazed expression. Heaving a quiet sigh, Thorin closed the door and cast a friendly gaze on his nephews. He cracked a smile at the two boys, and they catapulted at him, squeezing and looking up at him with adoration. He tickled them for a bit, and spun Kíli in the air, whispering something in the seven-year-old's ear that had him giggling hysterically.

He turned to smile at Frodo, who was still on the floor, controller in his hands and pizza crusts on his paper plate. The young boy blinked shyly up at Thorin, grinning a bit. "And who's this?" Thorin asked.

Bilbo cleared his throat. "Ah, well. Um, that's Frodo. My second cousin's kid."

Thorin looked at him, brilliant blue eyes skirting up and down his small frame, taking in ever detail no doubt. Everything from Bilbo's mussed hair, to his oversized sweater, to his greasy fingers and bare feet. Blushing under Thorin's gaze, he fidgeted, and looked at the paused screen of the game.

"I was babysitting him so that he and his wife could go out for the night. And then, er, your sister asked if I could watch these two because Víli cut his hand and she needed to take him to the ER. So I ordered pizza, and...yeah." He finished lamely, blushing still.

Thorin made a noncommittal sound, but didn't move his eyes away from Bilbo. Flustered, Bilbo stuttered out to Fíli and Kíli that it really was far past their bed-time, and that they ought to go to bed, since their mom could be home any minute. When neither boy made a move to get ready, he added that whoever was ready and in bed first would get a day down at the arcade. They pushed past each other, running up the stairs and laughing.

"Frodo, you should get your stuff together. We're about to head home."

Looking a bit groggy, Frodo nodded and set to turning off the TV set, as well as gathering up the toys and 3ds he'd insisted on brining.

Bilbo retreated the to the kitchen, setting about throwing away the paper plates, and wiping his hands on a napkin, as well as turning around to meet Thorin's eyes. Flustered still, he looked up at the taller man.

"Um. There's still some pizza if you want some." He offered, self consciously pulling his curls behind his ears.

Thorin gave him an indecipherable look, and it took all of Bilbo's manners not to jump out of the window and run home. Face reddening, he snaked past Thorin, who stood leaning in the archway that connected the living room and kitchen, heart pounding as he squeezed past the taller man.

Hurriedly, he said goodnight to the boys, left a note for Dís about their lovely behavior, grabbed Frodo and went back next door. Sighing to himself, he sat back down in his armchair, looking down at the cereal bowl that was now soggy.

•...•...•...•...•...•...•

Bilbo was beginning to doubt himself. What if...what if he did have a crush on Thorin after all? What if Prim and Bofur were right? What if he was lusting and pining for his neighbor?The dreams he'd had the night before seemed to suggest as much. He'd woken with a very interested and half-hard cock, aroused by the disconcerting dreams he'd had the night before.

He needed to clear his head. Sweaty and flustered, he pushed his quilts off of him, and ripped off his clothing, trying to cool down as much as possible. (In more ways than one) switching the shower on, Bilbo stepped in, shivering at once from the cold water. Okay, perhaps he needed a cool shower, but was icy really necessary? Muttering to himself, he turned the water up, sighing as the warm droplets pooled over his skin. Humming lowly, he scrubbed at his skin, using the grapefruit antioxidant body scrub that always woke him up. Made him sharper, more alert, less likely to wander back into dream land and have inappropriate dreams about a certain someone.

He was humming still, some random tune he couldn't name at the moment, feeling a bit cheered.

Then, to his dismay, right when he was in the middle of shampooing his hair, he heard the sound of another shower switching on, and the low crooning of Thorin Oakenshield. Bilbo froze in the shower, cursing his timing. If only he'd shampooed sooner, or taken a quick ten-minute instead, this wouldn't have happened. But it was too late, Thorin Oakenshield was showering on the other side of the thing wall, humming lowly.

After a fair amount of time, the man began to sing. "Alas, my love you do me wrong..."He crooned, beginning a very morbid rendition of Greensleeves. Bilbo listened all the while, convincing himself that there was no harm in doing so. He listened as Thorin went from Greensleeves, to Bohemian Rhapsody, then to Lonely Day and then back to Bohemian Rhapsody and then finally Thorin went back to humming an unrecognizable tune. Bilbo lingered in the shower, hoping that Thorin would sing another song, but the hums continued, and Bilbo enjoyed what he could, contenting himself with the strange and discordant hums. Gradually, the hums became a bit lower pitched, but no less musical, and strangely off-kilter. At first, the hums seemed to be following a precise pattern, a legitimate tune. But now, they seemed a bit discordant. Less organized.

Then, there was a low moan, and Bilbo felt chills erupt on the surface of his skin.

Holy fucking shit. Was Thorin...?

There was another moan, a deep throaty one that had Bilbo shivering in delight, and his cock stiffening in interest. An unbidden image sparked in his mind, one so sharp and clear, he could feel his cock quickly become engorged from it.

Thorin, hunched in the shower, legs shaking, chiseled and hairy stomach rolling as he tugged on his gorgeous cock. He would be slightly red in the face, a lovely blush complimenting the flush of his cock. There would be precome already building up on the head, big, thick, and white droplets easing out of the slit. His body would be tense, muscles bunching up as he panted heavily. He would be biting his lip, and there'd be water droplets clinging to his hair, his beard, his eyelashes.

A lovely sight, indeed.

There was another moan, followed by a low curse.

A lovely sound.

All reservations and thoughts of self-preservation were abandoned, and against his better self, Bilbo pulled at his cock. He bucked upwards into his hand, covering his mouth with his left, trying his hardest not to groan and whimper.

Thrust.

Another low moan.

Pause.

A louder moan.

Quick thrust into a fist.

A whimper, followed by a beautiful groan.

Slow down. You don't want this to be over too fast. Don't be overeager.

Wait.

"Ah!"

Fuck.

So gorgeous.Thorin sounded so gorgeous like that.

A whine.

Thrust.

"Yes. Yes. Yes..."

Very good. Very, very good.

"Mmh..."

Hard thrust.

The moans steadily become louder, more unhinged. Thorin was nearing, reaching his climax. The thought made Bilbo's heart pound, and his needs rise.

Faster.Faster.Faster now.

The moans were louder, Thorin was swearing.

"Ah! Fuck... yes. Yes. Yes! So good..."

Bilbo pumped his hand, leaning back against the shower wall, panting lowly, sure that Thorin wouldn't hear him over his own moans.

"Ah. Ah. Ah. Yes! Very good.

Bilbo struggled not to moan in answer.

"Shit. Yes. Ahhh. Mm. Yes. Very good! Very good, Baggins!"

Bilbo's ears deceived him. Certainly Thorin couldn't have said his name...If only there was a way to be sure.

"Fuck!" Thorin swore, his moans getting even louder, climbing to a decibel Bilbo hadn't thought possible. "Ah. Agh! Fuck! Bilbo!"The sound of Thorin orgasming, as well as yelling his name while doing so, was too much for Bilbo.

So gorgeous.Thorin sounded so gorgeous this way.

Bilbo came, a low grunt escaping from his mouth, as well as a low keening whine and sigh. He came in waves, cock throbbing pleasantly as euphoria climbed over him. He slumped in the shower, pressing his head against the shower wall and panting lowly. He sighed, slowly climbing down from what must have been the best orgasm of his life.

Imagine what fucking the real man would be like.

•...•...•...•...•...•...•...•...•...•...•...•...•

Dís was smirking at him from across the kitchen table, with an all too knowing look. Thorin ignored her, instead focusing on buttering his raisin bread and eating it. He took a large bite of his toasted bread, avoiding his sister's gaze. He was on the way to swallowing, until Dís had to go and open her very annoying mouth.

"Very good, Baggins." She muttered underneath her breath, making her brother choke on his bread and cough it back up. Swallowing a large glass of water and feeling his face flush, Thorin focused on chewing his bread. Slower this time. With smaller bites.

"You should ask him out already." She insisted, stretching a bit and looking down at her Phillipa Gregory book. She looked back up at him, waiting for some kind of response, looking impatient. Thorin didn't answer, and very pointedly rose from his seat to wash his plate.

"You should be glad at least that the boys are having a play date with Gimli at Gloin's, otherwise the poor kiddos might've been scarred for life. With all your wailing about." She snickered. "Jesus, Thorin. Why don't you invest in a gag? Or wait till no one's around? Or maybe actually ask the guy out?"

"Shut up." Thorin growled, standing from the table and heading back upstairs towards his room. Dís dashed after him, opening the door go yell;

"Seriously though! It's not healthy to be this sexually frustrated!"

Thorin threw a pillow at her, and missed. She laughed manically and slammed the door. Sighing, he pressed his face into his bed cushions. He didn't know what came over him. He was already pretty horny, since stress tended to do that to him, and work was pretty heavy lately. He'd had to put in 4 nights late last week, and today was his only day off. And then he'd come home, to seeing Bilbo in his house, on his couch, wiping and licking his fingers, curls deliciously missed, sweater a bit too large. Large enough where Thorin could pretend it was his sweater on the small man.

He was so small. He needed to be protected. Grabbed up. Kissed violently. Fucked passionately.

He fucking couldn't help himself. The entire night, he'd had dreams of a naked Bilbo running in the forest, flowers in his hair, smirking at Thorin. Always out of arms reach, until Thorin had finally caught him. And then he had pressed his delicious body against Thorin's, so soft and lovely, and kissed him. Thorin had woken up with a pounding heart, and when he's gone to take a shower, the image of a naked Bilbo was burned in the back of his mind, and then he'd started touching himself. It was glorious. The entire time he thought of the lovely man, his warm eyes, his tawny hair, his delectable ass and soft body.

Thorin wanted him. Thorin wanted him so bad.

He knew he'd been loud, but Bilbo inspired it from him. He was the type of man to inspire passion. And Thorin was never good at repressing his emotions, not for long anyway. And not when he felt this strongly.

Yet Dís' question stood. Why didn't he ask Bilbo out?

Fear, maybe. Nervousness.

The idea of approaching that small sexy little man was a bit overwhelming. But the question still stood.

Why hadn't he? Why didn't he?

If he were to amount it to something, it would be that he felt a bit too strongly for Bilbo. Especially when they didn't know each other very well. It was embarrassing, the fact that he was so utterly besotted. That he felt that this had some colossal significance, that perhaps they were meant to be. Which was ridiculous. This much he knew.

He had adored Bilbo on sight, and it terrified him. It terrified him that he could fall so quickly and completely for someone. It was awful. It was scary. He hated Bilbo for it. For making him fall in love.