Work Text:
“Shh! They’ll notice we’re gone if you keep making so much noise!” Bilbo whispered to Thorin as they made their way out of Beorn’s dining hall, the Company’s drunken laughter echoing behind them. Thorin, drunk out of his mind, trailed after Bilbo, giggling at nothing in particular as they slipped into one of Beorn’s storage closets, the space just big enough for the two of them to get some much-needed privacy.
“Where have you led me to, Master Baggins? Trying to burgle this king’s attention, are you?” Thorin asked with a mischievous look on his face. “It was you who asked for some time alone with me, your majesty. I’ve only found us a spot where we won’t be bothered.” Bilbo winked and closed the door behind Thorin, the only light in the room coming from moonlight streaming through a small window. With the door shut, Bilbo closed the distance between them, tugging Thorin down by his braids until they were eye to eye.
“What did his highness want from me this evening?” Bilbo questioned in a hushed, teasing tone, the ale on his breath obvious as his voice ghosted over Thorin’s skin. “Has anyone ever told you how fascinating your eyes are? They remind me of the sapphires that covered the mines of Erebor,” Thorin replied, his hands tracing the hobbit’s waist and tugging him close.
“Surely you didn’t want time alone with me just to compliment my eyes? And if we’re giving each other compliments, it’s only fair I return the sentiment.” Bilbo retorted, and as soon as the words left his lips, he pressed small kisses on each of Thorin’s eyelids. “Your eyes remind me of the blue forget-me-nots that grew around the edges of my garden at Bag End,” he said as he continued showering Thorin’s face with kisses. “They also remind me of a clear midday sky. Every time you glance at me, they draw me in with their beauty.”
His hands began to wander, tracing Thorin’s jaw, making their way to his hair. Gently, Bilbo tilted Thorin’s head to the side so he could continue peppering kisses across his face. “Bilbo…” Thorin said a little breathlessly as Bilbo began leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down Thorin’s neck toward his collarbone. “Yes, dear?” Bilbo teasingly questioned, his deft fingers working at the laces of Thorin’s tunic.
Thorin’s own hands began to explore; he caressed Bilbo’s sides, his lower back, and finally settled at his rear, giving it a gentle squeeze which prompted a breathy giggle from Bilbo. As Bilbo finally managed to free Thorin of his tunic, he explored the newly exposed skin, his smaller hands caressing old battle scars and tweaking Thorin’s nipples. His mouth soon joined his hands, teasing the pink nubs with his tongue.
“Bilbo… please…” Thorin managed, his voice cracking under the pleasure of being touched this way. “Is today my birthday? Because I’ve somehow managed to wring a please from the mighty Thorin Oakenshield,” Bilbo asked with a playful smile tugging at his lips. After a particularly rough pinch of his swollen nipples, Thorin bucked his hips forward, grinding his aching length against Bilbo’s. Bilbo rutted back, leaving them both panting and desperate for more. Thorin swayed a bit at Bilbo’s relentless grinding, the alcohol coursing through his veins impairing his balance.
“Sit down so you don’t hurt yourself, love,” Bilbo said sweetly as he guided Thorin to the hardwood floor, his back pressed against the wall. Once he was comfortably seated, Thorin peered at Bilbo with a hungry look in his eyes. Bilbo kneeled down beside Thorin and gently rubbed his shoulders, searching his face for any hint of wanting to slow down. “Thorin, we don’t have to go any further than kisses tonight, especially considering how drunk you are.” Bilbo giggled at Thorin’s expression of mock offense. “I’m not the only one who’s drunk. I recall you drinking just as much, if not more, than I did. And when did I say I didn’t want to continue? I don’t think kisses will suffice.” Thorin quickly replied, running his hands over Bilbo's knees to his thighs, dragging the hobbit over him until he was straddling his legs.
“Silly dwarf, I just don’t want to do anything that’ll make you uncomfortable. And you must know that hobbits can hold their liquor better than any creature on Middle-earth, my dear King.” He nuzzled his head into Thorin’s neck, breathing in his scent. Thorin wrapped his arms around Bilbo’s back and pulled him in for an embrace, pressing their heads together.
“My hobbit, there’s nothing you could do that would ever make me uncomfortable. Just being here with you in my arms is enough,” he answered, then sprinkled Bilbo’s face with dozens of kisses, his beard causing sweet giggles to spill from Bilbo’s mouth. “Who knew you were such a sap! Ah- Thorin, not there-” Bilbo tried and failed to get out as Thorin’s mouth found his ears. A soft moan fell from Bilbo’s lips as Thorin continued the kiss attack on the hobbit’s ear, his tongue flickering over the tip of the curved appendage.
“You’re so sensitive here, Bilbo. It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Thorin questioned as his tongue continued to dart across the sensitive ear, his teeth gently biting the tip. “Ah- Thorin! N-no, it doesn’t h-hurt, it feels so- oh, Yavanna, please d-don’t stop…” Bilbo moaned, his hips slowly moving against Thorin’s clothed erection. As his mouth continued its assault on Bilbo’s ear, Thorin made quick work of undoing the laces to both their pants, slipping their trousers and underclothes low enough to grasp both of their cocks in his calloused hand. When the cool evening air hit his exposed length, Bilbo spit in his hand and joined Thorin’s hand below, slicking the way to more easily stroke their pulsating erections.
With one hand working at pumping their cocks and his mouth moving to Bilbo’s other ear, Thorin took his remaining hand and tugged at Bilbo’s shirt insistently. Bilbo immediately shucked the shirt off, tossing it aside, and tried his best to match the fast pace Thorin set on their weeping lengths. Thorin, newly presented with Bilbo’s bare chest, pinched at Bilbo’s puffy nipples, drawing out even more moans and whimpers from the hobbit.
“Ghivashel- ah- you’re so beautiful like t-this,” Thorin said in between kissing and licking Bilbo’s spit-slick ear, his hands never letting up on touching Bilbo’s gorgeous, plump body. “Oh- Thorin, I’m so cl-close, love… kiss me, p-please.” Bilbo pleaded as his climax approached. The assault on his ears moved to his mouth, Thorin’s tongue swiping across Bilbo’s lower lip, seeking entrance, which Bilbo instantly allowed. Their tongues danced as they savored the taste of each other, even more moans falling freely from their lips at the sensation.
Bilbo’s hand desperately tried to match Thorin’s bruising pace on their throbbing erections, but with each pull, he writhed uncontrollably in Thorin’s grip. With a few more swift jerks, Bilbo's climax crashed over him with a broken whimper, his vision going white-hot at the edges. Hearing Bilbo’s cries of pleasure was all it took for Thorin to reach his limit. After a few more tugs and Bilbo swiping his thumb over the tip of Thorin’s cock, Thorin came with a strangled groan, his head falling forward on Bilbo’s shoulder.
With his clean hand, Bilbo dug through the pockets of his trousers, grabbed a handkerchief given to him by Beorn, and proceeded to clean himself and Thorin. Once they were both cleaned and clothed again, Bilbo pressed a small kiss to Thorin’s lips and nuzzled up beside him, lacing their fingers together and rubbing Thorin’s forearm with his other hand.
“That was amazing, Amralime. You make me feel so good,” Thorin sleepily replied, kissing the golden curls on Bilbo’s head. Bilbo turned to look at Thorin and pressed a slow, languid kiss to his lips. “I love you, Thorin. But I won’t accept falling asleep in this storage closet. Up with you.” He ordered, standing and tugging Thorin up with him.
Through lidded eyes, Thorin grabbed his hobbit by the waist and pushed him gently up against the wall to place a few more loving kisses upon his One’s face. “Come on, you, before you fall asleep on my shoulder,” Bilbo said, a blush returning to his face after another kiss was pressed to his cheek. “As you wish, azyungel,” Thorin answered, letting his hobbit lead him out of the storage closet, through the hallways, and to the sleeping quarters where the Company had already turned in for the night.
After tugging their bedrolls closer, they lay together, wrapped in each other’s embrace. “Goodnight, my love,” Bilbo murmured, half asleep, his eyes firmly shut and his breath slowing as sleep claimed him. All Thorin could offer in reply was a kiss to Bilbo’s forehead, nuzzling as close as he could to his burglar.
