Written for the bagginshield anniversary :)
“Do you remember the day we met?” Bilbo asks, propping
himself up on one elbow, fond smile on his face as he looks down at his
husband. There’s a rather becoming flush on Thorin’s cheeks still, though their
breathing has finally returned to normal, and his bare chest looks so lovely in
the firelight that Bilbo can’t help but trace absent patterns across it with
Thorin smiles, and Bilbo kisses the crinkles by his eyes
because he can.
“I do,” Thorin answers, large hand playing the knobs of
Bilbo’s spine like a harp, “I was rather… frustrated by how lovely you were.”
Bilbo pulls back with a frown, “Lovely? Thorin, you do
realise I was there, don’t you? You called me a grocer!”
Thorin does, at least, have the grace to look a little ashamed,
“Yes. Dwalin still laughs at me about that.”
“Laughs at you?”
Thorin sighs, “I am not always so rude to respectable
hobbits, you know. He was well aware of the effect you had on me, even if the
others were not.”
The colour on his cheeks is brighter now than it was before,
and it seeps down and across his chest in a way that Bilbo would find dangerously
endearing if he weren’t busy blinking in surprise.
“I – effect? Thorin, I love you dearly, but even you cannot
deny that our first few months of acquaintance were rocky at best.”
Thorin hums in acknowledgment, eyes falling to watch as his
own free hand comes up to cover Bilbo’s, “I did not know you then as I do now,
and I admittedly did not think you were suited to our quest,” Bilbo scoffs and
Thorin’s eyes meet his again with a shy smile, “But I thought you a fine thing,
Sometimes, the way Thorin looks at him makes Bilbo’s breath
catch in his throat and his heart feel like it could fly. He looks at Bilbo
like he can’t believe he’s there, and Bilbo has to claim another kiss before he
crumbles under the weight of it.
“I suppose I thought you quite handsome,” Bilbo smiles
against the king’s lips, “For such a self-important, overly serious, arrogant –
Bilbo yelps out a surprised laugh as Thorin, grinning,
pushes him back into the bed and leans over him until his dark hair trails
across Bilbo’s shoulders like silk.
“Insolent hobbit,” he admonishes, kissing the laughter from
Bilbo’s lips again and again and again.
They’re smiling like a pair of fauntlings by the time they
finally pull away, Thorin letting his forehead rest against Bilbo’s.
“Why did you ask, ghivashel?” Thorin murmurs, leaning back
just enough to see Bilbo’s face, “About the day we met. Did you think I could
“No, it’s just…” Bilbo smiles, twisting the marriage braid
in Thorin’s hair around his finger. It’s only a few hours old and Bilbo lifts
the bead at the end to his lips, “Here we are.”
Thorin reaches down to press a kiss upon Bilbo’s own marriage
bead and when their eyes meet again, Thorin looks as awed as Bilbo feels. “Yes,”
he breathes, eyes shining with more than just firelight, “Here we are.”