To Spoon Feed You Comfort part 1

Credit goes to SunnyRose

Summary:When they reach their majority, every hobbit is encouraged to carve or forge a spoon that would be their Love Spoon. It’s a very sacred process as no talking can be done during the crafting of the spoon. All of their energy must be concentrated on pouring their hopes and dreams for the future into their spoon. Reflecting especially on what type of spouse would compliment them most, what type of marriage they hope to have, and what vows they would make to honor and cherish them. The symbols etched into their spoon would showcase all of this so that way when their future spouse used it for the first time, they knew exactly what they were getting out of this marriage. And that’s it. Once someone has taken a bite from a dish prepared by the spoon’s owner, they are married in the eyes of the Shire. The act is reciprocated, and the lucky couple move in together in marital bliss.

Bilbo agonized over his spoon. A spoon no one ever seemed to want, and he had accepted his fate at no one ever eating from. Then a company of dwarves invaded his dining room, and their leader took a bite...

Chapter 1: Feed Me Your Presence

Bilbo was at his wits’ end with these loud, pushy, rude, arrogant, ill-mannered, disgusting dwarves. He couldn’t even imagine what Gandalf’s thought process was. Even if Bilbo had been considering his offer, which he hadn’t, staring into his empty larder, his own stomach grumbling, adventure was the absolute last thing on his mind! How quickly he can get the trespassing interlopers out of his dining room and back on the road being closer to the truth. His heart might actually give out if one more dish is tossed through the air, no matter how impressed he was to find the pile of clean dishes at the end of their teeth-grating song. However, before any more protests could leave his mouth, three sharp knocks rounded on his door.

Thorin Oakenshield, the last dwarf to appear, was different. Bilbo could tell that within the first second with the way the jovial atmosphere fell into respectful anticipation. Thorin was commanding, he was valued, and even if he were incredibly rude as well, he was the only dwarf to actually pay attention to Bilbo. In fact, the hobbit somehow found himself disappointed when he seemed to fail the dwarf’s initial evaluation. What was it about the tall, raven-haired dwarf that demanded such validation upon a first meeting? In any case, Bilbo was probably the most forthcoming with that last bowl of stew he had squirreled away for himself than he had been all evening. And Thorin barely acknowledged the act. Just raised an eyebrow and asked:

“And can I get a spoon or do you expect me to slurp it down?”

Based on the little Bilbo had observed about dwarven table manners, the latter had definitely been his assumption. Clearly, another point to separate Thorin from the rest.

“I seem to be out of spoons. But just a moment! It shouldn’t take me long to hunt down my great-gram’s good silver and…”

“Here’s a spoon! Use this Thorin.”

Bilbo could only gape as his Love Spoon which had been locked in his china cabinet went sailing across the room to end up in Thorin’s hand. The dwarf with the hair in three different points seemed completely unapologetic at Bilbo’s betrayed and incredulous look.

“NO! WAIT! YOU CAN’T…!”

Bilbo watched as his Love Spoon touched Thorin’s lips before the dwarf pulled it away to give him an annoyed look.

“Yes, Master Baggins?”

Bilbo couldn’t respond. He was stunned. No, it was more than that. He was floored! He was flabbergasted. He was…married. By Yavanna’s Green Gardens, he was MARRIED!

“Master Hobbit? You’re looking a little grey, lad.” One of the other dwarves observed.

Bilbo couldn’t even respond. His head felt too light, his body too heavy, and his vision too dark. He was barely aware of the sensation of falling, before his world went blessedly dark.

***

Each of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth had their own point of pride. For the elves, it was their arts and respect of the land. For dwarves, it was their beards and their battle prowess. For men, it was their ingenuity and courage. And for hobbits, it was food. Now one might say, look at these silly little creatures who value that which should just be a necessity, but it was no small task to create seven individual meals each day and make each one just as tasty as the last. Culinary was an art to the hobbits, from the growing of the produce to the care of livestock to having all the proper tools in your kitchen. So yes, hobbits could be quite vain when it came to recipes and preparation. Therefore, it shouldn’t be too surprising that their courting customs also revolved around food.

When they reach their majority, every hobbit is encouraged to carve or forge a spoon that would be their Love Spoon. It’s a very sacred process as no talking can be done during the crafting of the spoon. All of their energy must be concentrated on pouring their hopes and dreams for the future into their spoon. Reflecting especially on what type of spouse would compliment them most, what type of marriage they hope to have, and what vows they would make to honor and cherish them. The symbols etched into their spoon would showcase all of this so that way when their future spouse used it for the first time, they knew exactly what they were getting out of this marriage.

And that’s it. Once someone has taken a bite from a dish prepared by the spoon’s owner, they are married in the eyes of the Shire. The act is reciprocated, and the lucky couple move in together in marital bliss. When Bilbo crafted his spoon, he wanted only the best for his future spouse. He slaved away in the hot forge every summer with the old dwarf, Ushmik, who rented it out during the warm months, trying to learn the art of silversmithing. He threw away spoon after spoon until finally settling on a design he liked. Camellia (longing for you), holly (domestic happiness), and jasmine (desire for adventure).

Bilbo had felt so proud of his spoon, feeling like he had pulled all of his favorite qualities from his parents’ marriage. However, every suitor who got a glimpse was immediately turned off by the jasmine. All except for Theobald Brandybuck, but that didn’t work out for a multitude of other reasons. So Bilbo resigned himself as the bachelor of the Hill, especially after his parents’ death. His Love Spoon was taken out once a week for a quick polish, but otherwise it was left to a life of sitting on a shelf. Never to meet the lips of another. And now Bilbo had a dwarven husband.

“I’ll be alright, Gandalf. Just let me sit quietly for a moment.” Bilbo requested as he slowly sipped from the cup that was offered to him by the silver haired dwarf who had made himself quite comfortable with Bilbo’s tea selections.

“You’ve been sitting quietly for far too long, Bilbo Baggins.” Gandalf snapped, jerking Bilbo’s attention up at him. “Tell me, when did doilies and your mother’s china become so important? I remember a young hobbit who would want nothing more than to know what was outside his door.”

That’s when it occurred to him. Gandalf didn’t know what had just happened. Bilbo gave a mirthless chuckle before spelling it out for the high and mighty wizard.

“He ate. From my Love Spoon.”

Gandalf’s eyebrows shot up as Bilbo snorted into his cup.

“Thorin did?” Gandalf clarified.

“Yes.”

There was a moment of silence between the two before Gandalf continued, much more gently.

“Bilbo…dwarves won’t know the significance of what just occurred. We can just pretend…”

“I’ll know, Gandalf.” Bilbo interrupted sharply. “I will know my Spoon touched the lips of another. How could I ever begin a marriage with such deception? How could you ask that of me?”

Gandalf heaved a sigh before softly settling himself on the neighboring armchair. His hand lightly patted Bilbo’s arm.

“I’m sorry, Bilbo.”

Tears welled up in the hobbit’s eyes even as he smiled up at the older being.

“Can I tell you…I’m actually relieved?” Bilbo barked out a wet laugh. “That Bracegirdle lass has been trying to steal it for the last couple of months. Wants the status of being married to a Baggins. Doesn’t matter to her if she can’t fulfill the vows or not. But I don’t have to worry about that any more, because even though I’m still in a loveless marriage…Thorin will be gone soon. I’ll still get to live the remainder of my life…as I have been.”

A sob tore its way from his throat and he quickly tried to cover his face. How undignified to be crying in front of a near stranger over a future he didn’t even want anymore. Wordlessly, Gandalf handed Bilbo a handkerchief and Bilbo thanked him as he worked to dry his face.

“Bilbo…I wish circumstances were different. But you don’t have to write your marriage away so quickly. Join Thorin’s quest, help him take back his homeland, get to know him along the way. I think he’ll surprise you, perhaps as much as you’ll surprise yourself.”

“Take back his homeland…from what?” Bilbo sniffed.

The wizard remained silent making Bilbo immediately suspicious as he glared up at the taller being through bloodshot eyes.

“From what, Gandalf?”

“Oh…just a dragon.”

“WHAT?!” Bilbo jumped to his feet, the handkerchief floating down to the ground, forgotten with Bilbo’s sadness at the moment.

“Is my new husband the craziest dwarf to exist?!” Bilbo demanded.

“It was my idea Bilbo…” Gandalf tried to interrupt.

“Then he’s the type of person to listen to wizards’ crazy ideas! Even better!”

“I think if you would just hear him out…”

“And just what is to be my role in this journey, Gandalf? The Company’s cook, the voice of reason?”

“The Burglar.” Gandalf sighed with obvious annoyance.

“The BURGLAR! I don’t know what stories you’re spreading about me, Gandalf, but let it be said I’ve never stolen a thing in my life! Perhaps some sticky fingers as a faunt, but really . And from under the nose of a dragon, no less. Well, you’ve convinced me. This is absolutely, without a doubt, the most INSANE…”

“DO NOT MAKE ASSUMPTIONS YET, BILBO BAGGINS!” Gandalf roared.

Shadows crept up from behind the wizard along Bilbo’s walls, cowing the small hobbit rather quickly indeed. Just as quickly as they had come though, they were gone, and Gandalf’s warm, albeit slightly apologetic, demeanor returned.

“Talk to Thorin. Ask him about the quest. Tell him about your spoon. Then decide if it’s worth it or not.”

Bilbo nodded enthusiastically even if he was quite sure as to what his answer would still be. At least it would get the crazy wizard off his back. Bilbo turned and walked straight back to his dining room, only to discover the dwarves were no longer there. Thorin’s bowl still remained though, along with Bilbo’s Love Spoon. The hobbit felt himself drawn to touch it. Almost as if it would feel different now that it had fulfilled its purpose. However, he drew his hand back at the last moment. What an absurd notion.

No, he was quite certain once his dwarven nightmare was over, he would wash and dry and place the spoon back in its usual spot amongst his china. His life would change very little except he knew in his heart he would catch himself wondering after his wayward husband; whether the dwarf reached his destination or not. He briefly entertained the idea of maybe writing Thorin before he remembered what awaited the dwarves at the end of their journey. Grim as it may be, there was a very decent chance Bilbo would be a widow in just a few short…months? Years? Just how far was this homeland anyways?

Bilbo heaved a large sigh, running his fingers through his hair. It had certainly been a long evening. Deciding to focus on just finding his guests and making sure they weren’t destroying his map collection or something next, Bilbo was about to head down the hall when he heard something that stopped him in his tracks. Music coming from his sitting room, and it was the most tragically beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

Tiptoeing on silent feet, he crept closer pressing his back against the wall next to the entry way as he poked his head around the corner. Yavanna have mercy, it was Bilbo’s new husband who’s gruff voice seemed to be penetrating his very soul. Bilbo ducked back out as he slid down the wall, plopping himself right there on the floor. Never had he heard such a sad tale and sung with such fervor. If Bilbo closed his eyes, it was like he was there. Feeling the heat upon his face, smelling the pines, hearing the ‘clink’ of tools against precious metals. So lost in the experience, Bilbo hadn’t even realized it was finished until he heard his name.

“Master Baggins? What are you doing?”

Bilbo’s eyes shot open as he looked up to see Thorin staring down at him with a raised brow. Bilbo quickly jumped to his feet, brushing his hands down his front if only to distract from his bright red cheeks.

“I was hoping to have a word with you actually, if you don’t mind.” Bilbo noticed the bald dwarf and the white haired one coming up behind him. “Privately, if I may.”

Thorin looked over his shoulder in time for the bald dwarf to scowl and shake his head. The white haired dwarf looked appraising before nodding in agreement.

“Very well.” Thorin decided, leading Bilbo down his own hallways.

Bilbo nearly had to jog to keep up wondering if the older dwarf was Thorin’s father or something based on the appraising look he had received. Once Thorin deemed they were far enough away, he spun around to face Bilbo.

“Speak.” He ordered.

Bilbo screwed up his face trying to keep from focusing on the rudeness that seems to be this dwarf’s default language.

“I feel we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.” Bilbo began only to be interrupted by Thorin’s snort of amusement.

“Is that all it was?” The dwarf demanded, his arms crossed, performing a similar circle of Bilbo as he did in Bilbo’s entryway.

“Well, I…it’s not as if I were expecting company!” Bilbo spluttered.

“No, I imagine you didn’t. You probably don’t expect much beyond the safety of your Shire norms.”

“And just what are you implying, Master Thorin?” Bilbo demanded, squaring up to the taller being as much as he could.

“I know you.” Thorin dropped his voice.

Bilbo’s heart leapt forward at the implication of such a simple phrase. And he’s found him lacking. Everyone finds him lacking. Thorin leaned in closer, and Bilbo just knew he had to see the fear dancing over his face, because his smirk slipped just slightly and his eyes narrowed. He continued his thought though in that low, deep drawl of his.

“I had you pegged five seconds into our meeting.”

Bilbo swallowed around the tight lump forming in his throat.

“Please, enlighten me.” Bilbo challenged.

Thorin held eye contact for a long moment, before his shoulders squared back, as if in effort to pull himself up taller. Bilbo refused to be cowed though, which seemed to be noticed by the twitch in Thorin’s eyebrow and the quirk of his lips.

“You have the biggest burrow in the town. I noticed as I passed by…twice, thinking it had to be an inn or a palace.”

Bilbo opened his mouth to interrupt, but Thorin continued.

“So you are a hobbit lord which means you probably have too much time and too much money on your hands. You are polite and kind-hearted, considering you haven’t thrown us out yet, but you don’t go out of your way to help people if tonight has been any indicator. You thirst for adventure, as noted by the sheer volume of maps on your walls, but you fear danger. Because why else would you still be here ?

And that’s what can’t be overlooked. I can handle spoiled, pompous, inexperienced, but your fear would doom us. All I’ve asked of my kin is loyalty, honor, and a willing heart. I can afford to accept no less from you. And if that is something you can’t give, stay here.”

Bilbo swallowed and swallowed again after Thorin had finished, his eyes having fallen to his toes long before Thorin had finished. It was perhaps the third time that he tried to speak that he realized he absolutely hated how close to the truth Thorin actually managed to land. The only part Bilbo felt he could argue was he wasn’t kind-hearted. He hasn’t felt anything but cold and numb in that cavity for a very long time.

“Y-You’re…”

“Wrong?” Thorin mocked.

Bilbo winced. He thought it was an unnoticeable thing until Thorin snorted.

“As I thought.”

Slowly, a little flame he didn’t know he had anymore began to take life inside him. His chin lifted until he was able to meet Thorin’s gaze directly.

“You are though.” He admitted softly, his voice gaining volume as his confidence grew. “Yes, you are. Because you think you have people figured out the moment you walk in a room. Well people have the capacity for change! Not that you seem to be keen on allowing it. I’ve had one evening and half a song to summarize just what you came here asking for my help with in the first place! You say you know me, but you’ve only guessed at a fraction of who I am. And it’s okay that you don’t believe it yet. I just know I want to be there when you realize it for the first time. That even a little hobbit from the Shire is capable of rising above his shortcomings and taking on a dragon.”

Thorin’s brows pinched together, and Bilbo took it as a victory as he watched his eyes swim in surprise and perhaps a small amount of admiration. It was a heady feeling that Bilbo figured most didn’t get to experience from Thorin Oakenshield. So he drank in every last drop until he was drowning under that gaze. A small shout from down the hall broke the spell, and Bilbo was able to avert his eyes feeling a little foolish at staring for so long. He was certain to have made his guest quite uncomfortable which was not very becoming, no matter how rude said guest may be.

“In any case,” Bilbo cleared his throat, his attention most decidedly staying clear of the dwarf before him. “I’m sure you will want to get some rest. You have an early morning after all. I do hope you and your Company have a pleasant evening, Master Thorin.”

“Wait!” Thorin’s arm reached out and snared Bilbo’s own before he could completely turn away.

Bilbo blinked up at him in alarm, and the dwarf released his grip.

“So…will you come?”

Bilbo’s jaw dropped. “I…”

He couldn’t be serious! Did he not just spell out all the ways Bilbo would be an imposition? Bilbo huffed a sigh, feeling suddenly and inexplicably weary.

“Why don’t you ask me again in the morning when I have a fresher perspective?”

Thorin hesitated before giving him a sharp nod.

“As you say, Master Baggins.”

Bilbo watched him all the way down the hall. It didn’t occur to him until Thorin was out of sight completely that he never quite managed to follow Gandalf’s suggestions. They barely touched the quest, and Bilbo didn’t tell him about their predicament. But perhaps that was something Thorin had managed to get wrong about him. Bilbo wasn’t kind. Because this selfish need to hold onto Thorin a bit longer, hold onto the idea of finally having a spouse, wasn’t a kindness. To Thorin…or himself.

***

Bilbo went on the bloody quest.

Why? Because he was a damn good husband, that’s why. Regardless of what most the Shire seemed to think of him. Or most of the company he traveled with for that matter. Although, Bilbo was certain their looks were on his general character and not his abilities as a spouse. In any case, he bore the skepticism with dignity (which was considerably less after his first attempt to climb on the back of a pony) and charm (or at least he would if he had been given the chance). Yet, there was one glaring issue that Bilbo had yet to ratify: Thorin still didn’t know they were married.

It wasn’t like Bilbo hadn’t tried. It was just he hadn’t made it very far before he was subjected to the ‘glare of disappointment’. Like when he accidentally sent the pony running straight into the Brandywine River, or when he set up their bedrolls in a patch of poison oak not realizing the dwarves would have a reaction. His latest mess-up involved nearly getting the entire company eaten by trolls. He, of course, also managed to stall the trolls until Gandalf could arrive, but apparently that wasn’t a redeemable enough feat in Thorin’s eyes. Bilbo was rather convinced there was nothing he could do to get his husband to like him. It was as he was lamenting his woes to Bofur in Rivendell (about Thorin not liking him, not the married part) that he was giving a solid piece of advice.

“Of course, he doesn’t like you. He doesn’t know you. You don’t ever give him the chance. You're as skittish as a wild cat around him and then do something clumsy or stupid to set him off.”

Bilbo glared, not sure if he appreciated the comparison considering there had been a wild cat in his youth who absolutely hated Bilbo and guarded the blackberry bush with a fierce passion. Bilbo would go home with claw marks almost every day.

“All I’m saying, Lad, is go talk to him. Have a conversation that doesn’t end in disaster and maybe you’ll actually start to mend that gap between the two of you.”

Have a conversation. Bilbo could certainly do that. He’s learned quite a Bit on how to talk to dwarves on this quest after all. He shot to his feet, looking around the room, only for his eyes to meet Thorin’s own. It felt like the dwarf’s gaze was boring into Bilbo, trying to discover every secret the hobbit had. Courage leaving him, Bilbo opted instead for a walk through the gardens to get his head right.

It was much later when Bilbo returned to the dwarven common room, only to discover they had made a little fire pit in the center of it. Not wanting to be a part of vandalism, Bilbo found his way onto the outer balconies.

He has enjoyed the peace and beauty of Rivendell. It was somewhere he’s always wanted to visit after listening to his mother’s stories. He leaned against the railing, watching the fireflies start to appear when he heard a noise behind him. When he turned, he saw Thorin standing there staring at him. Bilbo’s jaw dropped. This was his chance. Before he could utter a word though, a conversation from below captured his attention.

Elrond and Gandalf appeared to be arguing over the state of their quest. Bilbo furrowed his brows, casting a glance at Thorin who also appeared to be listening intently.

“Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs in that family…”

Bilbo could feel himself getting worked up. A bunch of Shire gossips, that’s all they were. He would have expected better from the immortal pair. When Bilbo turned around to tell Thorin it was okay, he found the dwarf had already ducked inside the hallway. Bilbo sprinted after him, hollering his name.

“Wait! Thorin, it’s okay!”

Suddenly, a hand caught his wrist spinning him around and pinning his back against the wall in the dark alcove.

“What do you know of it?” Thorin growled, pressing close to him. “What do you know of watching your grandfather’s mind wither until there was not a thought left but that of gold? What do you know of watching your father, your brother, yourself for signs of that same sickness with dread? You, in your comfortable little hole. What right do you have to tell me it’s okay?”

Bilbo felt his nose twitch as he took a sharp breath. Thorin let him go, and Bilbo quickly grabbed his jacket to keep him from leaving.

“I know nothing of sickness of the mind or gold. But I know you. Or at least I think I’ve come to know you. I’ve watched you care for your company, every single member. I know how seriously you carry your burdens. But Thorin, I’ve never once worried for your sanity, mad quest to burgle from a dragon aside.”

Bilbo hadn’t meant to say that last bit, and he froze, worried he might have offended Thorin by making light of it. Instead, the dwarf gave a small chuckle. A noise that had Bilbo’s heart pounding faster. This was it. This was the exact moment where he should tell him.

“Thorin…I’m afraid I must confess something to you…”

Bilbo’s eyes went down to their feet as he started to fiddle in place.

“The thing is…”

Bilbo never got to finish his sentence before a pair of lips was pressing against his own. Bilbo felt like a fire had been lit deep inside him, setting his every nerve off like Gandalf’s fireworks. He couldn’t even begin to form a coherent thought.

“Yes.” Thorin stated, finally pulling back.

“Yes?” Bilbo repeated, dumbfounded.

“Yes, I will lay with you.”

Oh Green Lady, take him now. It was all so much so quickly. Here he was thinking the best he could hope for was an amenable relationship with his husband, but he actually wanted to lay with Bilbo? It was too soon, wasn’t it? And how did Thorin know that they were married?!

“I’ve seen the way you’ve watched me.” Thorin growled as he latched down on the underside of Bilbo’s ear making him gasp. “I wouldn’t normally do this, but I’ve had some interest in you too. And it’ll make it easier to get this out of the way now while we have the time and some privacy.”

So this was just a fuck then? It was hard to be disappointed when Thorin’s large hands were gripping him so, but Bilbo knew he needed to squash this now. At least Thorin needed to know the truth before he had his way with him. Bilbo pulled back, looking deep in Thorin’s darkening eyes, his throat bobbing at such a delicious look aimed at him. His resolve crumbled faster than his butter biscuits, and what came out wasn’t at all what he meant to say.

“So here or in your room?” Bilbo murmured.

A smirk spread across Thorin’s face and the sheer desire pooling in his eyes managed to temporarily smother any doubt or self-loathing Bilbo felt at not telling him.

“My room.” Thorin declared as he tugged Bilbo along.

Thorin pushed Bilbo into every available corner as they snaked their way down the hall, kissing him long and languidly. By the time they got to Thorin’s room, they were so pent up, that Thorin threw Bilbo into the wall making him hiss as he kissed down the column of his throat. Bilbo dug his fingernails into his back, not able to get a grip around the dwarf’s mail.

“Careful.” Bilbo murmured. “I’ve got a soft hobbit head.”

“Is that code for ‘not rough’?” Thorin growled as he sucked on his earlobe.

Bilbo’s head flew back as his toes curled, pulling a groan from him.

“Rough is okay. Just don’t want to be dizzy through it.”

Thorin took that as permission to hike Bilbo’s hips above his, leaving Bilbo to wrap his legs around his back as he used the wall and his hands to support Bilbo. At this angle, Bilbo’s erection was pressing close into Thorin’s stomach.

“Eager, Master Baggins?” Thorin purred.

“Well I’m not rutting into you yet, but getting closer.” Bilbo sighed.

Thorin huffed in amusement as he used one hand to undo the buttons on Bilbo’s waistcoat and shirt. Bilbo was impressed at how dexterous he was, but considering he was a blacksmith, he shouldn’t be too surprised. Bilbo leaned forward letting his coat and waistcoat fall to the ground, and after a brief confusion over his suspenders, let his shirt fall alongside them.

Thorin walked Bilbo over to the bed, dropping him down on the plush sheets so that Bilbo bounced on the surface once. After that, Thorin was there over the top of him. Sucking at his tongue as his calloused hands roamed his soft body in a way that had Bilbo shivering. Bilbo used his hands to divest Thorin of his coat and outer layers, but the mail was foreign to him, and they had to break apart briefly for Thorin to remove it and his tunic. After that, Bilbo had full access to drink in the sight that was Thorin Oakenshield.

Hobbit males, and Bilbo as no exception, had a comfortable amount of chest hair like tufts of fur that made a single line down to their stomach. Thorin, on the other hand, was a thicket of thick black hair hiding his nipples, decorating his stomach, and slipping below his trousers. Bilbo placed his hands on his stomach and slowly traveled upwards, marveling at the springiness and the curls. Thorin shivered, his eyes closed, as he released a groan.

“How do we want to do this then?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “Someone promised me rough.”

Thorin smirked. “Rough, I can do.”

He pounced, pushing Bilbo down into the bed, one hand pressing down on Bilbo’s hip, holding him immobile, as the other pinched at his nipple. Bilbo threw his head back in a cry giving Thorin the perfect opportunity to sink his teeth into the skin just below Bilbo’s throat. He tried to thrust up against Thorin’s grip only to remain still. Two could certainly play at this game though. Bilbo hooked his ankle behind Thorin’s thigh and in a single move, flipped them so that Bilbo was straddling his waist. Bilbo savored the look of surprise in Thorin’s eyes as he moved the dwarf’s hands over his head, pinning them in place. Thorin smirked, and Bilbo was quite certain he could break himself free if he wanted to, but he seemed curious about what Bilbo would do from here.

Bilbo bent his head down, sucking one of Thorin’s hidden nipples into his mouth as he bit gently down. Thorin hissed, bucking up to where his clothed cock sat just below Bilbo’s bum. Bilbo took his time teasing and pulling as he felt the ripple of abdominal muscles tensing between his thick plush thighs. Bilbo groaned, knowing there was no chance he was going to last this way. He started kissing and nipping his way down, releasing Thorin’s hands, until his lips met cloth. He fumbled with his ties before pulling his pants down and off of him. Removing his own while he was at it.

For a moment, he sat there, staring at Thorin’s big aching cock, judging how much he could take. He decided it shouldn’t be too much of a problem, and swallowed Thorin down to the root in one gulp. Thorin released a shout, his thighs tensing around Bilbo’s head as he tried to thrust upward into Bilbo’s throat. Already pushing through his gag reflex, Bilbo stilled him with two hands pressing down on his hips. He gave a large slurp as he licked his way back up to tip, pressing his tongue against Thorin’s slit as he moved his hand down to circle Thorin’s hole.

“Do you have oil?” Bilbo panted.

Thorin hesitated, and Bilbo raised an eyebrow.

“Unless you would like us to switch positions?”

Thorin slowly nodded, and Bilbo tried not to be too disappointed. He would have enjoyed making Thorin come undone, but perhaps not tonight. Bilbo backed up, and Thorin sat up, digging his oil out of his pant’s pocket on the edge of the bed.

“You still want it rough?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo smirked. “If this is what you call rough, then I think I can handle it.”

Thorin grinned. “Allow me to remedy that.”

Before Bilbo could react, Thorin grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed him face down into the sheets. He let off the pressure enough for Bilbo to be able to breathe, but he could still feel his large hand holding him in place. Bilbo’s heart began to race as he presented his ass for Thorin. The dwarf didn’t waste any time slicking his fingers before he jammed one of them right inside Bilbo. He howled at the burn as he forced himself to relax against the back and forth movement.

The second finger wasn’t quite as harsh, whether because Thorin felt he couldn’t take it or was testing his limits. Either way, Bilbo was wiggling to get in a position where Thorin could hit that magic spot, and when he finally found it, he groaned. Bilbo reached back, trying to soothe his own aching cock only for Thorin to slap his hands away. Bilbo huffed as Thorin leaned over him to whisper in his ear.

“I want you to come around my cock as I pound you into this prissy elvish bed.”

“Then do it.” Bilbo snapped back, muffled slightly by said prissy bed.

Thorin pushed one more finger inside Bilbo making sure he was good and stretched before Bilbo felt the head of Thorin’s cock begin to breach him. Somehow he felt bigger back there than when Bilbo was sucking him down. Thorin moved slowly. Easing himself inch by delicious inch until he was fully seated inside him. He pulled himself back out, pouring more oil into Bilbo’s gaping hole before slamming inside him. Bilbo would have arched clear off the bed if it wasn’t for the hand still resting at the back of his neck. His hands turned to fists as Thorin slammed into him again and again.

Bilbo could feel tears streaming down his face as the mix of pleasure and pain overwhelmed his senses.

“Doing okay?” Thorin gasped between thrusts.

Bilbo attempted to tell him he was fine, but the garble of sounds could barely be considered Westron at that point. Thorin paused, his panting filling the room in the wake of the slap of oiled skin against skin.

“Burglar, are you okay?”

“I will be if you stop questioning me and finish.” Bilbo finally managed to growl.

Thorin immediately went back to chasing his high as his thrusts grew quicker and more shallow.

“I’m close, I’m so close.”

Bilbo was groaning until Thorin brushed up against that spot inside him again. Sparks exploded inside him, and he released a guttural cry as his seed spilled out onto the bed sheets below. His body tensed around Thorin’s cock, bringing the dwarf to his release as well. He felt the warmth of Thorin’s cum fill him up and spill out his hole. As soon as Thorin pulled out, Bilbo collapsed on his side, and Thorin collapsed next to him. They lay there, their breaths mingling as they fought to get their hearts to slow back down.

Bilbo couldn’t believe it. His first time with his husband, and it was wonderful. He choked on his next breath. His husband. He still had to tell him! How did he let himself get so sidetracked?

“Thorin, about earlier…” Bilbo murmured.

Thorin held up a hand to wave him off.

“Not right now.” He groaned. “Let me…rest my eyes for a moment.”

Bilbo nodded in agreement, finding that to be a wonderful idea as he pressed close enough to rest his head on Thorin’s shoulder. Thorin pulled the least soiled sheet over them, and before Bilbo even realized what happened, he had fallen fast asleep.

When he woke up, it was still dark, but he was alone in the bed. He heard a noise in the corner and turned his head to see Thorin had fully clothed himself and was strapping on his sword and pack.

“Thorin?” He murmured drowsily.

“Get dressed.” He ordered gruffly. “I’m going to wake the company. We need to leave. Now. ”

Bilbo didn’t get much more of an explanation beyond that as Thorin walked out the door letting it lightly close behind him. Bilbo’s heart sank into his stomach as he suddenly felt dirty and cheated. He tried to argue with himself that it was his own fault. Thorin didn’t know what this was to him. He put unrealistic expectations on a rather disastrous relationship. He slid down the bed, wincing at the pain in his backside as he wiped himself down and dressed for the day. One thing seemed to stick with him though as he put his wrinkled clothes back on, and he found he didn’t really have an answer. After…all that, how could he ever tell Thorin the truth?