Chapter Text
Love; it will not betray you
Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free
Be more like the man you were made to be
It had been a cold winter, the coldest in recent memory (recent memory in Dwarvish being about a century) and he had been inside by the fire, resting. He had worked hard this day and he was exhausted.
He sighed, rubbing at his eyes, sore from sweat and heat. Thorin’s home in the Blue Mountains was small, much smaller than the grand hall he had once walked at Erebor. He remembered the way the great kingdom in the mountain never seemed to end, the chandeliers and huge golden arches, the way the Arkenstone glittered above his grandfather’s throne.
Now his home was tiny, barely large enough to even be considered living quarters. It had only one room, with a bathroom and a fireplace. The main room had a bed in the far corner, and the place was adorned with rugs and clothes and baskets and tools and mugs, and swords hanging from the walls, various items which Thorin had brought with him from Erebor, or had won, scavenged or made since having left. The room was cluttered, but it was warm and it was shelter from the vicious cold outside.
The pot over the fire was bubbling gently, the soup he had prepared was very nearly ready to eat. Thorin had a bowl and ladle in hand, and was about to serve himself a well-deserved dinner, when a knock sounded at his door.
He felt his eye twitch, and considered not answering. It could only be trouble, at this time, in this weather – but he could not find it in himself to ignore the caller. Pushing himself off the chair and onto his weary legs, Thorin went to the door and opened it, the instant rush of cold making him flinch.
Kili looked frozen. His hair was damp, clinging to his face and neck, and he was shivering in the cold. He hadn’t worn a thick enough overcoat for weather as violent as this. His boots were covered in ice and his hands were tucked inside of his clothes, his fingerless gloves not doing much to keep the digits warm. He gave a short bow and said, “Evening, Uncle,” before stepping inside.
Thorin glared at him. It was rude enough to turn up uninvited, let alone trudge ice and dirt through his home. “You ought to show me more respect, boy.”
“Because you’re my uncle?” Kili asked, his lips turned up at the edges in a playful smile.
“Because I am your king,” Thorin muttered, making his way back over to the fire.
Kili’s smile faded a little. Thorin often treated him like this – picking up on every little mistake, scowling at him when he made a joke, reprimanding him for his behaviour. But there were rare moments when Kili would catch his uncle smiling, and they were worth waiting for.
“I thought you would welcome me, tonight of all nights,” Kili said, sitting down by the fire, glancing up at Thorin, who sat in his chair. “Surely you could do with company –”
“Because I am not at the feast?” Thorin raised an eyebrow. Durin’s Day feast was nothing but a bitter reminder that he had lost the kingdom of his forefathers to an oversized reptile. “I have never needed any company but my own, and I have no care for feasts.”
“Aye, but you do have care for me,” Kili said, another crooked creeping onto his face.
Thorin did not scowl this time, but he did not smile back either.
Thorin, like all other dwarves, was drawn to unique and pretty things. Kili was both of these things, and more. He was so different to all the others – so much more vibrant, raw and energetic. He favoured the bow and arrow, had had neither braids nor beard, he delighted in magical things, and was quick to trust and love. He was striking, not rugged, an oddity among dwarves but not unattractive. In fact, perhaps it made him all the more eye-catching.
Thorin had found it rather difficult for the past few years to keep his distance from the young dwarf. Caring for Kili could only be a flaw in his plans, and yet whenever he thought of his nephew, it made him feel warmer on the inside, make his heart a little lighter.
“Why aren’t you dining with us?” Kili asked. “Surely you don’t prefer leek soup to the roasted geese and venison, salted pork, goat’s cheese and bread – bread with butter and gravy and onions and –”
“If you yearn for the food so much, then go back to the hall,” Thorin said sharply.
Kili’s eyebrows tugged together, not angrily but worried. “Is something the matter?”
“I would not take counsel with you, Kili. That which bothers me is no matter of yours.”
There was a slight pause before Kili spoke. “Has this to do with your journey?”
Thorin slowly let his gaze return back to his nephew. When Kili saw the thunderous look in his uncle’s eyes, he began to stammer. “I – I thought – I didn’t mean to –”
“Did Fili tell you?”
“No!” Kili said quickly. “I – he was speaking with Dwalin –”
“You were eavesdropping, then,” Thorin said, standing up, towering over Kili who quickly scurried to his feet. His eyes were almost level with Thorin’s, and the older dwarf wondered when he had missed seeing his nephew grow.
“Thorin, don’t be mad,” Kili said. “I only want to help.”
“You cannot help me with this, boy.”
Kili took offense, and his eyes shone angrily. “I am no boy!” he retorted. “You treat me as a child –”
“You are a child!”
“I am seventy six.”
“Aye, and I am a hundred and ninety four,” Thorin boomed, “You know nothing of war or the spilling of blood, and I would not have you march to your death at Erebor.” Thorin’s blue eyes darkened as he glowered at Kili, who did not shrink away, but stood his ground.
“I am no warrior,” he replied. “But I would not watch my brothers and my kin leave and not follow.”
“I will not allow it,” Thorin began, but Kili interrupted.
“You cannot stop me.”
Thorin saw a glint of determination in Kili’s dark brown eyes. It was so much like that of his own, of his brothers. It made Thorin hesitate to scowl at the younger dwarf again, instead stepping back and sighing, before he said, “You look like my father.”
It took Kili by surprise, and he blinked. “What?”
“You throw to Thrain,” Thorin said. “He had your dark eyes, your dark hair. Fili looks so much like Frerin, but you resemble my father.”
Kili frowned. Of course he had been told this before – many others had already told him that his dark hair was a sure sign that he was a son of Durin. Fili would laugh at that, finding it amusing that his own blonde hair and bright eyes made him appear so common. Kili didn’t think it was common – he thought Fili’s hair was precious, finely strung gold, a beacon in a crowd of ordinary dwarves.
Kili’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I need you to stay here,” Thorin replied. “There must be an heir. I would not risk you and Fili both.”
“So first it is because I am a child, and now it is because I am an heir. What will the third excuse be, is it because I haven’t got a beard? Because I don’t braid my hair? Or perhaps because I use a bow, instead of an axe? Take your pick, uncle.”
Thorin did not find this funny. “You will learn your place, Kili,” he snapped.
“My place is beside you!” Kili shouted, a sudden rage taking him. “My place is with my brothers, not waiting at this accursed place, waiting for you to return, or waiting for news of your death!”
Thorin sighed. He knew there was no talking sense to the boy. He reached out to grasp at his nephew’s shoulder, saying, “I think it is time you returned to feasting.”
He tried to take a hold of Kili but the younger dwarf was far too swift. He ducked away from Thorin, who swung at thin air. Scowling, Thorin turned around to see Kili waiting, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Get here, Kili,” Thorin growled.
“Make me,” Kili replied.
Thorin lunged at him, but Kili was far quicker than his uncle. It was another of his stranger qualities – apart from his unusually pretty face, Kili’s litheness was not quite Dwarvish. It was one of the things which made him unique – and yet it was increasingly bothering Thorin as he tried to catch Kili, failing to keep up.
Kili was laughing, a smile splitting his face, white teeth glinting in the dim light of the room. The shimmering of his eyes which had before been dark and furious was now playful and impish, though no less determined, and no shallower.
Feigning right, Thorin watched as Kili darted to the left, only to collide with his uncle, the older dwarf’s cunning beginning to show. Kili spun to dart away, but Thorin already had a hold of his collar, and was holding him quite still.
“Now,” Thorin said, slightly breathless, “You should take your leave.”
“Perhaps I want to stay,” Kili replied, smiling lazily. He seemed perfectly happy to be held by Thorin, happy to surrender now that he was caught. It made Thorin hesitate to let go. But he did, eventually, after a heavy pause which left too much to the imagination.
Thorin did not like the way Kili was staring at him – or perhaps he did like it, and therein lies the problem. He would often notice Kili’s handsome face and deep (somewhat haunting) eyes, but he had never noticed it as much until now, until he had let go and Kili had not stepped away, staying close – too close.
“Kili,” Thorin said quietly, “You have been given leave.”
“Aye,” Kili replied. “And I choose to stay.”
There was another heavy pause, before Kili moved. Thorin was not sure what he thought Kili was doing when he took a hold of the front of his tunic, but he did not expect the young dwarf to reach up and press his lips against Thorin’s.
The shock that Thorin initially felt at the kiss was soon overtaken by the warmth that spread through his entire body, his heart hammering like he never knew it could, his chest tightening, aching for more. His lips moved in response, tasting warmth, tasting life, and a sweetness that has no name in any language he knew.
Thorin was still for a moment as Kili pulled away, eyes flicking back and forth nervously, waiting for a response. Thorin’s hand ghosted across Kili’s face, fingertips trailing down the skin, and he wanted so badly to kiss him, to touch him, make Kili his own – but he was not ready.
“Uncle –” Kili muttered.
“No, Kili,” Thorin replied, his fingers touching Kili’s throat, feeling his warm pulse. “Not yet. You do not know what it is you are doing.”
He knew why Kili wanted this. Despite being a witty and likeable dwarf, with many friends and much love to give, Kili longed to be a better person. He had looked up to Thorin since he knew how to look at anything, and clearly his longing to be like Thorin had become a longing for Thorin.
“Thorin, I want –”
“Hush, lad. You know not what you want, nor what you ask of me,” Thorin murmured, his hand hovering over Kili’s skin, as though afraid to touch him.
Sighing, he pulled his hand away, but Kili reached up and grasped it. “I am no fool,” he said, his determined eyes not looking away. “And I will not stop trying, nor will I simply forget my feelings, wait for them to go away or wait until the time is right. I will take what I want.”
Thorin stared at Kili for a moment. “And what is it that you want?” he asked, voice low.
Kili did not hesitate when he answered. “You.”
To the younger dwarf’s surprise, Thorin chuckled. “Did you come here tonight to convince me to bring you on my quest?” he asked, the smile crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “Or are you here to entice me in other ways?”
“Can’t I try both?” Kili replied.
“You can try,” Thorin replied, though he knew that he was already won. “But if it were my choice, I would not have you tonight. You are young, and I would rather you consider the wisest course of action –”
“There is no other course of action, Thorin,” Kili insisted.
Thorin reached up gingerly to brush back a wayward strand of hair from Kili’s face. “Does your brother know?”
Kili frowned a little. “He suspects, but – I have not told him.”
That the two were men was not a problem. It was well known that dwarves are stubborn and determined to a fault, and throughout history many dwarves had taken same-sex partners. It was not wise to deny a dwarf what he or she desired most – and apart from anything else, there were twice as many dwarf men as there were women. There would be many lonely dwarf men if all were determined to have a woman.
And being related was not particularly a problem, not in Dwarvish communities at least. And Thorin would not deny Kili or deny himself what he wanted.
With a slight nod, Thorin said, “So long as you are honest with Fili.”
It took Kili a moment to realise what Thorin was saying. “I – Thorin, you –?”
“Yes, Kili,” Thorin said lowly, before ducking his head and kissing him. This time there was less hesitation from both parties – Kili grasped at Thorin’s neck and tunic, pulling himself closer as Thorin’s strong arms snaked around his body, and Kili’s mouth opened to Thorin’s, and the older groaned as he felt Kili’s curious tongue dart inside his teeth.
His hand crept from Kili’s cheek to the back of his neck, and he tangled his fingers in the messy dark hair, pulling back to tilt Kili’s head up slightly, and Thorin felt his stomach turn when Kili made a breathy moan. It was strange that it took so little to make Kili yield to him.
“I would have thought,” murmured Thorin, voice rumbling as he trailed kisses down Kili’s neck, “That it would take a lot more to tame your heart, Kili.”
“I – I choose who I give myself to,” the younger replied, his breathing laboured. “I would not let just anybody take me.”
Thorin chuckled, a deep and rumbling laugh. “I would like to see them try.”
Kili drew a sharp breath when Thorin’s hand trailed down to his hip, where he traced the outline of his belt. Taking the hint, Kili’s hands flew down to unbuckle the golden clasp, while Thorin one-handedly took off his own, before moving the same hand down to tug Kili’s tunic upwards until he revealed the skin beneath, and sliding a large hand up, grazing against the smooth skin of Kili’s abdomen.
Kili arched into the touch, and pulled Thorin back in to kiss him, more fervently than before, biting at his lip and drawing growls from the elder’s throat, before Thorin pushed him away. Kili looked shocked for a moment before Thorin told him, “Take off your tunic.”
Kili’s lip twitched upwards and he did as he was told. He was not going to defy his king tonight. Some other night, perhaps, he might be disobedient – but Thorin knew it was not this night. Tonight, Kili was obedient, and loyal, and loving.
When Kili had hurriedly discarded his coat, gloves and tunic to the floor, he turned back to face Thorin, muscles shifting in his torso and stomach as he did so. He was a fine specimen – he was slender for a dwarf, but not thin, and not at all weak. He was muscular and toned, strong of arm. Though he was not as broad of shoulder as his kin, he was still young and he would grow yet.
His forearms and chest were dusted with dark hair, and a trail led down from his torso, past his navel and below the material of his trousers. Thorin noticed the heat rise in Kili’s cheeks as he watched his uncle observe him, but Thorin did not falter, eyes drinking in the sight of his nephew.
Thorin wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but he had not seen his nephew grow so handsome.
“You have been blessed, Kili,” Thorin said quietly, reaching out to hold his face, gently brushing his thumb across Kili’s lips.
Kili stared down and Thorin noticed the heat rising in his cheeks, as though he were embarrassed or suddenly self-conscious. “You – you think so?” he mumbled.
Thorin frowned. “Do you not think the same?”
Kili only had to glance at Thorin’s beard and long braided hair for the older dwarf to realise what the problem was.
“Do not concern yourself with what others think is right or wrong, Kili,” Thorin said firmly, forcing his nephew’s chin up to look him in the eye. “You are as fine a dwarf as any man could ask for, and anyone who says different knows nothing of beauty. I was much the same as you when I was young – my beard did not grow until I was nigh on eighty.”
Kili looked a little doubtful, glancing at his uncle as though he was trying to see his face beneath the beard. Thorin smiled. “Do not concern yourself with the unkind words of others. Concern yourself only with what pleases your lovers – with what pleases me.”
Kili’s lips parted slightly, taken aback at his uncle’s defensive and encouraging words. It took him a moment to compose himself before his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he asked, “And – and does this please you?”
Thorin smiled. “It pleases me greatly.”
The next few kisses Thorin gave to his nephew were far more tender than before, drawing only the slightest of whimpers from Kili’s throat but breathtaking nonetheless. Kili spoke between the presses of their lips, “If I have to remove my tunic, then you should do the same.”
Thorin stared at him for a moment before noticing the familiar mischievous glint in those dark eyes. “You should know better than to make demands of your king, Kili,” Thorin replied, darkly.
Kili shrank back only the slightest, and his apprehension was stirring, but Thorin did not go further. “Perhaps one day I will make sure you know your place. But not tonight.”
“I know my place,” Kili replied quietly, but he watched with wide brown eyes as Thorin pulled his tunic over his head. Dark hair tumbled over broad shoulders, over strong muscle and sinew, over scars and marred skin. Thorin watched Kili’s eyes dance over his body, taking in all he could.
“And where is your place?” Thorin asked.
It took Kili a moment to realise that his uncle had spoken, but when he did he brought his eyes back up to meet Thorin’s, and he said with confidence, “With you.”
“Good,” Thorin said. “Remember that.”
He stepped towards Kili and gathered him into his arms again, only this time it was so much better because there was no cloth between Thorin’s calloused hands and the young and unscathed skin of Kili’s chest and back. His skin was slightly cold still, from having been outside in the bitter storm, and Thorin’s hands eased the warmth back into Kili’s body. Kili was unable to stop from pressing himself against Thorin, drinking in his heat and his scent and his kiss and touch.
Thorin groaned as Kili’s hands did exploring of their own – touching Thorin in a way that no one had for many long years. He traced the scars, daring touches at the ridges near Thorin’s hips, tracing down his spine, curious hands searching the new territory, all the while kissing and groaning, their noises filling the previously quiet house, the crackling fire and the howl of the wind outside the only other reminder that this was not a dream.
Kili kissed with a enthusiasm and vigour that was to be expected, his body seeking friction, his hands seeking everything. Thorin would occasionally grasp onto Kili’s hair and take control of the kiss, holding Kili back and keeping him still, and it would be leisurely, lazy, slow – but no less passionate. This drove Kili mad. He wanted so badly to go faster, to have more, to be more, but Thorin wanted to take his time. “Patience, young one,” he murmured against his skin, kissing at Kili’s throat, leaving red marks below his jaw.
Kili groaned. “Please, Thorin –”
“Soon.”
Thorin thumbed at the cords of Kili’s pants, and smiled slightly as the boy bucked up into his hand, trying to get Thorin to touch him, trying to make him do anything. Thorin slowly kissed at Kili’s collarbone, rubbing his thumb along the hem of Kili’s trousers, and Kili whined.
“Uncle, I – I need you,” he pleaded, and Thorin suspected the blush that flowed to his cheeks was a combination of arousal and humiliation. Of all the things Kili had ever asked of his uncle, pleasure was not one of them.
“I know,” Thorin said, reassuringly. “I do not want to waste this chance.”
“You will have many more chances,” Kili groaned. “Please, take it.”
Thorin chuckled, but he did as Kili wished, finally loosening the ties of the trousers and gently brushing them off Kili’s hips, letting them drop to the floor. Kili grinned, and he was about to move to do the same for Thorin, but stumbled and fell into his uncle’s arms with a cry of alarm.
Thorin glanced down and then he laughed, something he did not often do. “Your boots.”
In their lapse of concentration, both had forgotten about the heavy boots Kili was wearing, which were now tangled with the trousers around his ankles. Thorin only had a pair of soft house-boots on, and they slipped off easily, but Kili’s were made of leather and fur and metal buckles, and required more attention. Thorin placed Kili on the edge of the bed, and then knelt down to take off his footwear.
“Thorin, I can do that –” Kili began, but Thorin cut him off.
“Stay still, Kili,” he said, before glancing up, with a look in his eyes that said all is well. Kili relaxed a little.
It was only after the boots had been discarded did Thorin become properly conscious of the fact that Kili was now naked, his muscular calves and thighs an expanse of tanned ochre skin, and his already hard and weeping member on display. When Kili realised Thorin was staring at his erection, a fresh wave of embarrassment washed over him. He began to move the blankets to cover himself, but Thorin intercepted his hand.
“I stand by what I said before,” he said. “You are most beautiful.”
Kili smiled crookedly, before leaning towards Thorin to kiss him again. Thorin used the kiss as a distraction before moving his hand up Kili’s thigh, closer towards his cock, and Kili shivered, apprehensive and aroused and tense all at once.
When Thorin’s large hand finally grasped him, Kili gasped, breath coming in short shudders, and he grasped onto Thorin’s shoulder as he began to move his hand in slow, sure strokes.
“Has anybody else touched you like this?”
Kili gave his uncle a dark look. “I’m seventy six, not seventeen,” he said, but his voice was shaking.
Thorin leaned forward until his lips were at Kili’s ear, and he murmured, “Who was it?”
When Kili’s blush flowed down his neck, Thorin had a fairly good idea of who it might be. But he wanted Kili to answer. “I asked you a question.”
The commanding tone sent shivers across Kili’s skin, and he replied, “Fili.”
Thorin had suspected as much. Kili and Fili were inseparable, they always had been, and though they had lived in many different towns and moved often, they had always been together. Thorin wondered if Fili would ever be interested in being a part of this relationship – though Fili was a strong and sure dwarf, he was not nearly as reckless as Kili and had much more respect for Thorin. He would not proposition him the way Kili had, even if he did have his own desires.
Staying where he was, kneeling beside the bed, Thorin was at eye level with his nephew, and here he stayed as he began to touch him, saying, “When you tell your brother of what has come to pass, you will tell him everything. Do not leave out any detail.”
Kili only replied when Thorin gave him a tight squeeze, after which he nodded frantically.
Thorin’s touch was exquisite, and Kili was having trouble containing the moans and the gasps. His lips were parted, dry from having drawn so much shallow breath, and his eyes were half-lidded, occasionally a frown would hang low over his eyes, either from frustration or from trying to maintain control. His hips would buck up when Thorin lightly brushed over the swollen head of his cock, and he groaned long and low, head dipping forward to rest in the crook of Thorin’s neck, hand still holding onto his shoulder.
“T-Thorin, I – I can’t –” he stammered, voice tight.
Thorin hesitated. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I mean – I can’t – hold on much longer,” Kili breathed, and Thorin immediately continued touching him.
“Good,” Thorin replied, increasing the tempo, watching the younger dwarf fall apart at his touch.
“Nnh – I – Thorin –”
Kili’s words fell into staggered breaths and groans as he thrust up into Thorin’s hand, and he went rigid for a moment, silent as the grave as the climax overcame him, and a moment later his seed was spilled across Thorin’s hand and wrist and Kili was moaning, crying Thorin’s name as he shuddered, falling against him, unable to support himself for a moment.
“Th-Thorin –”
“Hush,” Thorin said quietly, his breath moving Kili’s dark hair. “Breathe, and be still a moment.”
Kili did as he was told. He shifted backwards and smiled at Thorin, and he said, still quite breathless, “You have quite talented hands, uncle.”
Thorin returned the smile with a rare one of his own. Kili peppered him with kisses until Thorin stood up, about to lie down beside him, but Kili had other ideas – for now he was at eye level with the tent in Thorin’s trousers.
His hand ghosted over the hardness in Thorin’s pants, and Thorin groaned involuntarily, his eyes slipping shut at Kili’s hands pressed and grasped at his cock, and then he felt hot breath through the material and Kili’s forehead pressed against his navel, and he glanced down to see Kili mouthing at the hardness through his trousers, while his fingers deftly untied them.
“What are you doing, Kili?”
Kili’s response was a sly half-smile, staring up at his uncle from beneath dark brows and dark lashes, before he tugged at Thorin’s pants until they slid down his legs, and his almost-full cock bounced out of the material. Impatient as ever, Kili wasted no time, his lips sliding onto the head and his hand drawing back the foreskin before his mouth slid over and down the shaft, tongue stroking at the underside.
Thorin nearly fell over. A bit of warning might have been nice, he thought to himself, but he did not have the coherency to voice his complaint. And besides, he was in no position to complain.
Kili’s lips were a little dry at first, and he had to retract a few times to wet them, but the inside of his mouth wet and alive with heat, and his tongue was velvet-soft. Thorin groaned as Kili took him a little deeper, and Thorin allowed himself to place a hand on the back of Kili’s head and gently thread his fingers through the dark tousled hair, not to press him harder but simply to feel him there, to know this was real – and besides, Thorin was beginning to develop quite a liking for that dark, tousled hair.
Thorin glanced down every now and then, and he would see Kili glancing up – and he almost swore he saw the boy grin whenever they made eye contact, but it is hard to grin when you’ve a cock in your mouth…
Whatever thoughts Thorin had were lost as Kili took him even deeper and the head of his cock brushed the back of Kili’s throat. Thorin’s hips involuntarily shifted forward and Kili spluttered a little, but he did not stop when Thorin asked if he was hurt. Instead, he went on with enthusiasm, the sinful sounds of his wet mouth filling the small room and Thorin groaned. “If I had known you were so eager, I would have had you sooner,” he said, voice rumbling.
He heard Kili chuckle, or rather he felt it, and he hissed, a sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth. A few moments later he felt his insides tightening, and he knew he was close. He made a split-second decision to grasp a hold of Kili’s hair and pull him back, gently releasing himself from Kili’s mouth, and Kili glanced up with a confused frown, his lips swollen, dark eyes unsure of what was happening.
“Thorin?”
“All is well,” Thorin said, kicking off his shoes and trousers. “I simply don’t have the energy I had when I was young like you. Spilling myself in your throat is a charming idea but it would not serve well tonight.”
Kili was slightly reassured that Thorin still wanted him – his initial fear had been that his uncle had had a change of heart – but now a fresh wave of confusion had taken him. “But – but if you don’t plan to spill in my throat, then wh –”
His face went a little blank, as he stared up at his uncle. Clearly, having asked the question helped Kili to figure the answer.
Thorin reached down to brush Kili’s hair behind his ear, and he said quietly, “Do you trust me?”
Kili nodded in response.
“Then know that I would not do this if it were not for both our pleasures,” Thorin said, taking Kili’s hand and gently moving him further up the bed. “I would not hurt you.”
“I know,” Kili said, clearly a little nervous. “But I –”
“I thought you were seventy six, not seventeen,” Thorin asked, with an unusual spark of humour.
Kili glowered. “I have done this! But this is – this is far more serious – I did not think that you would want me this way.”
Thorin gave a small chuckle. “Believe me, Kili, I would not have you any other way.”
Of course Kili had rushed ahead with his plan, not thinking over the finer details, not considering what might happen. Thorin wandered over to a small box by the fireplace where he kept his medicinal products – among them was oil he often used for sore and tired muscles. But it had other uses.
He came back to the bed, and kneeled on the mattress above his nephew. “You trust me?”
Kili swallowed the lump in his throat before he nodded. “I trust you.”
Thorin’s pressed a gentle kiss to the edge of Kili’s mouth. Kili tried to grasp his hair and keep him close, but Thorin had moved away, saying, “There will be more of that soon, impatient one.”
“You frustrate me,” Kili groaned, throwing his hands back over his head, staring at the ceiling.
“Yet you are aroused again,” Thorin noted, gently brushing his palm over the younger dwarf’s half-hard cock, relishing the drawn-out keening sound Kili made. “Somehow I think the frustration serves you well.”
“It would serve me better faster,” Kili retorted.
Thorin smiled, but did not reply. He dipped his fingers into the small jar of oil, coating two with the slick substance before placing it on the table beside the bed. He kicked Kili’s legs open and placed himself between them.
Kili took a sharp breath at the movement, and went slightly red when he realised how vulnerable his position was, spread before his uncle like this. Thorin suspected that Kili and Fili were equals when they were intimate, while in the current situation, Thorin was clearly the superior.
“Do you still trust me?” Thorin murmured gently, and Kili nodded.
When Thorin touched Kili’s entrance with his oil-coated fingers without warning, Kili was startled and he shifted away, not out of discomfort but simply because his nerves were on edge. Thorin distracted him by kissing his bruised lips and his throat until he became pliant, all the while keeping one finger by his entrance, gently tracing the tight muscle, and soon Kili had relaxed enough again for Thorin to continue.
He pressed the first finger inside, only to the first knuckle, and Kili gasped but did not shy away. Thorin asked, “Does this hurt you?”
Kili shook his head, before replying in a tight and desperate voice, “No, no I – please Thorin – I need more –”
Gently pushing that one finger in and out, Thorin worked at Kili until he could press all the way in – and when he did, he curled and gently prodded and stroked until Kili’s eyes snapped open and his lips parted in a silent cry, back arched slightly as he pressed back against Thorin’s hand. “Oh –”
Knowing he had hit gold, Thorin added the second finger. If Kili noticed, he didn’t complain. In fact, his legs had spread further and his body was thrusting back against Thorin, groaning as he lifted his hips, as he tugged at Thorin’s hair to drag him back for another kiss. Thorin continued pressing against Kili’s prostate each time until the younger dwarf had begun to writhe and make the most shameless noises.
“If you only could see yourself, Kili,” Thorin muttered, biting at Kili’s pulse.
Thorin continued thrusting his fingers into Kili’s slightly quivering body while he reached over to the jar and dipped his other hand inside, before it travelled to his own member, still hard, and he began to coat himself in the lubricant, repressing a groan as he anticipated being inside of the younger dwarf.
Kili’s eyes were closed, and he realised what his uncle was doing when Thorin removed his fingers and began to press in with a different body part – but Kili was not opposed. He gave Thorin a sly grin, chest heaving slightly.
Thorin pressed forward gently, groaning when the head was pushed inside. Kili’s eye twitched but he did not look to be in pain – Thorin was aware that he had a rather large member and it might hurt, even if Kili was experienced.
Thorin began to kiss him again, his tongue stroking the inside of Kili’s mouth and drawing all manner of moans from Kili’s throat. The younger began to relax, and Thorin would press in a little further with each passing minute, ever so slowly.
When he was pressed inside all the way, Thorin drew his lips away and stared down at his nephew. “Are you uncomfortable?”
Kili shook his head, and Thorin felt his inner muscles contract a little, as though he were testing the waters, before tugged at Thorin’s hair until he lowered himself back down for another kiss, resting his weight on his elbows, on either side of Kili’s torso, as Kili’s hands combed through his hair and his lips were crushed against Thorin’s, their chests pressed together, the warmth now hot like fire. Thorin rocked his hips forward in an experimental thrust and the two dwarves groaned low in unison.
When Thorin finally began to move inside of Kili, he almost lost himself in the sensation and wanted so badly to let go, to bury himself hard inside of the young, willing body, but he made himself concentrate long enough to ensure Kili was at ease.
“Kili,” he mumbled, chest rumbling against the other, “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Kili replied, gasping for breath, “Yes, Thorin – please, more, please –”
That was all the assurance Thorin needed, and he pulled backwards before snapping his hips forward. Kili’s lips parted as he cried out, but not in pain – his back was arched and his cry was drawn out as Thorin’s cock rubbed against his prostate.
Thorin knew that there were other sounds, the snowstorm rushing outside and the walls creaking, but all he could hear was Kili’s gasps, moans, the way he clenched his teeth and breathed his name, the sound of skin on skin, the sound of low, growling breaths.
The pace Thorin had worked up to was now rapid, bruising and impossibly good as Kili angled his hips further up, wanting more of Thorin inside, his hands grasping at hair and shoulders and at the frame of the bed as he cried out.
“Gods, Thorin – I – you feel – ohh –” Kili’s lack of vocabulary was far better than any words Thorin could have wanted to hear.
He leaned closer, pressing further inside with every thrust. “Does this please you?”
“Yes, Thorin – yes – I’m so close –”
Kili’s words fell apart to desperate cries for more, his moans wicked and whorish but Thorin did not mind. He moved his hand down to Kili’s erection and began to pump him in time with his own thrusts. It did not take Kili very long at all to climax, and while before he had fallen silent, this time he howled, arching up, his body shaking and his muscles losing strength as Thorin fucked him through his orgasm.
It did not take Thorin long to follow him over the edge. The feeling of Kili’s insides clenching around him and the look of abandon on the younger dwarf’s face pushed Thorin to his own orgasm, spilling his own hot seed inside of Kili, knowing that it would be easier if he finished on Kili’s stomach but not caring in the slightest.
Kili did not complain when Thorin slumped on him, completely spent, and still throbbing inside of him. In fact, Kili pressed a ghost of a kiss to his uncle’s cheek and then to his neck. Kili’s own neck was bruised and ravaged, angry red skin, claimed thoroughly by his uncle.
Finally finding his strength again, Thorin lifted his body up and pulled out of Kili, taking note of the small whimpering noise Kili made when he was left empty. Rolling over to lie on the side, Thorin pushed the hair back from his face, his large torso lifting up and down as he relaxed, breathing in properly for the first time they had begun.
And Kili was silent, properly quiet in a way Thorin had never known. He looked out of the corner of his eye at his nephew, who had his eyes closed and a tired but satisfied smile playing on his lips. Thorin reached up to trace his fingertip across the slightly swollen bottom lip, and Kili’s lips parted, his breath soft on Thorin’s hand.
“Are you glad I am here, now?” he asked, opening one eye to reveal the familiar glint of devilishness.
Thorin chuckled. “More than you can know.”