Chapter Text
It was a slow evening, not that Bilbo was surprised. It would be a marketday tomorrow, so most of the hobbits that frequented Rosemary’s little brothel would be busy preparing the goods to be laid out come morning. The Red Door was open regardless; though most of the other prostitutes had decided to take the day off. But Bilbo was bored – half the reason he had taken up the profession in the first place. There was only so much time one could spend spinning poetry, and his father had always said it was shameful for a gentlehobbit to not have an idea of how the layhobbits lived.
So here Bilbo was, nursing a sour cider – the apples hadn’t ripened yet, so the cider one could find wasn’t yet sweet. He was recounting some silly fairystory of the elves to young Violet – the girl was barely out of her tweens, and always begging Bilbo for a story. Bilbo found he didn’t mind indulging her; at least he wasn’t alone up on the Hill.
A breeze swept through the receiving room as the door opened. It blew in the smell of evening on the fields – and a dwarrow as well. There was another dwarrow, pushing the first one in with a teasing laugh. “Go on, Thorin, if you come back from the rounds a virgin still, Dís will despair of you!”
The first dwarrow flushed, though it was hard to see under the beard they sported. It was black, shorter than most of the dwarrow beards that Bilbo had seen – but still well tended, as well as Bilbo could tell. The dwarrow’s hair was more typical of what Bilbo had seen, long and carefully braided.
“Dwalin,” the dark-haired dwarrow – Thorin, Bilbo supposed – growled back at his companion, and Bilbo stood. He was not going to let Rosemary come out of the back to find two dwarrows fighting in the main room; she’d have a fit, and she was such a pain to deal with when she was angry.
As Bilbo strode over to the dwarrows, both pairs of eyes snapped to him; Bilbo found himself almost tripping over his own feet. Thorin had eyes as blue as a cornflower and piercing, like he could take the sum of a person in a simple glance. He wondered what Thorin saw, when he looked at Bilbo.
But Bilbo wasn’t paid for poetry when he was here. He managed to flip on a smile and smoothly step into Thorin’s space. If there was to be a customer, it seemed from the conversation that Thorin would be it. “Hello, welcome to The Red Door; how can we help you?”
The dwarrows exchanged a look, before Thorin sighed. “We- I, was wondering if I could- sample your hospitality, for the night.” He swallowed after the stiff pronouncement. Bilbo felt torn between laughing and rolling his eyes; Thorin was so uncomfortable asking for a night with a prostitute! Men were the same – it’d be more annoying in this particular if the nervous energy radiating off of the dwarrow wasn’t so cute.
Instead of any of the rude responses Bilbo wanted to give, he just smiled. This was a customer after all – laughing or rolling of eyes would be met with Rosemary’s tongue lashing. “We can do that. Is your companion looking for company as well?” Bilbo would’ve preferred to be a little more straight-forward, like one could be with other hobbits, but that sort of talk scared off Men- and probably dwarrows as well, it seemed.
The other dwarrow – Dwalin, Bilbo recalled – shook his head and gave Thorin a wide, teasing smile. “No, lad. Just Thorin here.” He patted Thorin on the back, before turning towards the door. “Good luck!” He tossed over his shoulder, a final tease before the door closed behind him.
Thorin glared at Dwalin’s retreating back, but his attention flicked back to Bilbo as the hobbit pulled a book off of a little counter in the front. If Thorin was as new to this as Bilbo had heard – and honestly, could guess – Allowin or Peony would be the best choices. They were both kind and gentle, perfect for a first go under the sheets. But, of course, they were off for the day – at least, that’s what the ledger indicated.
Bilbo frowned a little, glancing over at Violet. It seemed she and Bilbo were the only ones free and- well, Violet wasn’t bad between the sheets, but she was unlikely to give the guidance that might be needed. At the end of the day, it was up to Thorin’s tastes, Bilbo supposed. He put the book back down, turning to face Thorin again with a smile. “Do you have a preference for lads or lasses?” Bilbo asked.
Thorin’s gaze felt almost physical as it brushed down Bilbo’s body. “Lads,” he finally answered, voice a little gruff. Bilbo had to keep himself from preening; Thorin obviously liked what he saw. The green silk brocade waistcoat and cotton button up had been a good choice, it seemed.
“Well, I’m the only lad available right now, if you don’t-”
“Yes! I mean-” Thorin cut off, flushing down his neck at the eager interruption. Bilbo’s smile grew, a little more of an honest one than a sales smile now. He couldn’t keep from shifting forward and back on his feet, pleased with Thorin’s obvious desire.
“Give me just a moment-” Bilbo quickly recorded his unavailability in the ledger, giving Violet a little wave before he took Thorin’s hand. “Alright, come with me.”
There were plenty of open rooms, giving Bilbo the pick of the litter. He lead Thorin down to the lower rooms; a dwarrow would probably be more comfortable somewhere without windows, and generally first-timers were more comfortable if assured no one could see them. Thorin said not a word as Bilbo pulled him into a dark room.
“Just a moment- there we go!” The room lit up as Bilbo managed to get a candle started. The flame danced, shadows shifting amongst the yellow hues – though the light adequately filled the room. It showed the bed, a nice feather mattress with soft linen sheets and a wool quilt, and a small end table for them to leave their things on. There was also a lush fur rug that Bilbo quite enjoyed getting pounded into, when his clients wanted the same. But instead of looking over the room, Thorin’s gaze was glued to Bilbo and the hobbit shivered in anticipation. He licked his lips, and coughed a little awkwardly; it’d been a long time since Bilbo had been quite this excited about a new client.
“I suppose I should set out the rules – there’s not too many so don’t worry about forgetting,” Bilbo chuckled a little at his joke, coughing again when Thorin just raised an eyebrow. Really, he shouldn’t be the one nervous here; where had all that earlier nervousness in the dwarrow gone? “The most important one – no long-term or permanent damage! Feel free to use me as you like, but nothing that would leave a scar, no broken bones, anything like that.”
Thorin’s face tightened. “You expect me to hit you?” He asked, half a growl. A rather growly person, Bilbo figured – the dwarrows he’d interacted with before didn’t growl half this much.
“Hm- not expect, exactly, but allow? It can be quite a bit of fun, if that’s something you’d like to do.” Bilbo frowned, confused, when Thorin’s expression only darkened.
“There’s no need for you- for anyone to allow others to strike you. If you need-”
Bilbo’s lips thinned as he realized the miscommunication. It seemed dwarrow vhad much the same thoughts about prostitution that Men did. “I’m not a mannish whore in Bree,” he interrupted, “You’re right that there’s no need for me to let my clients hit me; it’s something that I’ve chosen, because I enjoy it. Just as I’ve chosen this work because I enjoy it. Many of the others here don’t allow it.”
The tension in Thorin’s body eased just a little. “I see. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to offend. I apologize.” The nervousness seemingly had returned – or Bilbo had simply missed seeing the the last few moments. Most of Thorin’s tension was due to it, from what Bilbo could tell.
Bilbo relaxed a little, the apology mollifying him more than he’d admit. He adjusted his waistcoat in an effort to chase out a bit of energy left over from his annoyance. “Yes, well. It’s good for you to know that regardless. I’m here because I want to be – as you should be as well. If you ever want to stop, just let me know.”
Thorin simply nodded, tension still tight in his shoulders. Well. That wouldn’t do.
Bilbo leaned back onto his heels, frowning just a little. It would be no fun for Thorin – or for Bilbo, if he was honest – if Thorin was like this the whole time. Getting into private hadn’t eased his nerves as Bilbo had hoped. Maybe-
“Let’s just- I haven’t introduced myself yet! I’m Bilbo Baggins.”
Thorin shifted slightly, inclining his head. “Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thrór at your service.” A name that Bilbo had already gleaned, but still good to get all proper-like. Bilbo nodded, sniffing a little.
“It’s good to meet you, Thorin. Now- if I overheard correctly, you’ve never done this before?”
Thorin grimaced, before giving Bilbo a curt nod. “I- yes. I have not laid with anyone, before.” Bilbo nodded again; he hoped that the little smile he gave Thorin was enough to let him know that it wasn’t anything to worry about.
“That’s fine. I know what your friend wanted for you, but, Thorin- what do you want out of this?”
“I want Dwalin and Dís to stop nagging me about finding someone to warm my bed.” Thorin ended the statement with a small huff and Bilbo found himself biting his lip to hold back a smile. That was- it was funny.
“If that’s all you’d like, I can give you a hickey and we can play cards until it’s time to sleep.” It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done something like that, though Bilbo couldn’t deny that he was a little disappointed with the notion of missing out on sleeping with Thorin. The dwarrow was handsome. But this wasn’t about Bilbo, after all.
A flush crept down Thorin’s neck again, and he shook his head. “I- I suppose I’d also like to- to have you. To touch you.” He was stumbling over his words, nerves and awkwardness rolling off him. The dwarrow was well out of his depth. Luckily for him, Bilbo was well within it. He took Thorin’s hand, gently leading him to the bed.
“Alright. I’d like that too. Why don’t we start with our clothes? If you’d like, you can undress me, and touch me, and I’ll also let you know what I like and what I don’t.” Bilbo gently pushed his hand against Thorin’s chest; Thorin got the hint and sat on the bed without much struggle. “Then, when you’re done with me, I’ll do the same to you – and then we can decide what to do next. If that sounds nice?”
Thorin’s eyes lept over Bilbo’s form again and he gave another curt nod, this one with an exhale through his nose. “Yes. That sounds- nice.” Bilbo stepped into his space at the confirmation, giving Thorin a broad smile.
“Well then, you should start with my waistcoat and shirt.”
The silk brocade slipped off of Bilbo’s shoulders a few moments later. Thorin was being careful with the buttons, which Bilbo quite appreciated; he’d had many clients who took to ripping at his clothes. It was one of the few things Bilbo honestly put up with – at least he’d gotten very good at mending buttons.
When the cotton shirt followed the waistcoat to the ground, Thorin made a soft, keening noise. Bilbo couldn’t help but flush, realizing it was a sound of pure want – even given his profession, no one had ever made such a sound just from seeing his naked torso before. Thorin’s hands hovered over Bilbo’s skin; Bilbo shifted to press them together. “You can touch me,” he assured, kindly, “I like being touched. I like my hips and shoulders being grabbed roughly too, if we decide to have sex later – makes me feel like I’m doing a good enough job that you can’t hold back.”
Thorin let out a soft breath, his hands skimming over Bilbo’s skin. “You’re soft,” he murmured, hands winding around to Bilbo’s back. Thorin’s hands were warm against him; he wondered if all of the dwarrow was that warm. He’d get to find out soon.
“I hope I’m soft, I use plenty of oils to try to stay that way,” Bilbo joked mildly – though his eyes fluttered shut as Thorin ran a hand between his shoulder blades. “Oh,” he murmured, “That’s nice.” When his eyes opened again, Thorin’s gaze was locked on his face; his pupils were blown wide with want. And Bilbo hadn’t even gotten his trousers off.
It didn’t take long for Thorin’s hands to start hovering near Bilbo’s waistband, however.
“Go on, you can take them off,” Bilbo encouraged softly. Thorin’s fingers worked the laces, just as careful and dexterous with them as they’d been with Bilbo’s buttons.
Thorin groaned this time, quiet, when the trousers slipped down Bilbo’s legs. His cock was half-hard; Bilbo would be embarrassed to be so easily riled up, but quite honestly this was the most erotic undressing he’d had to date. Thorin’s hands fluttering around his dick didn’t help, either; it just seemed a tease.
“You can touch me wherever you like,” Bilbo stated, “My prick, my cunt, my ass – those are all fine. I also enjoy people rubbing my inner thighs- I think most people do.”
Thorin frowned, looking up to meet Bilbo’s eyes. “Your cunt? I thought- you have a prick?” His brows furrowed, obviously from confusion, and Bilbo had to tamp down a sudden urge to run his fingers over the skin and smooth it out.
“Ah, I... forgot. We hobbits have both a cunt and a prick, all of us. I’m guessing that dwarrows are like men, in that you only have one or the other?” Bilbo got a nod at that, and Thorin’s brow didn’t smooth out. “Ah,” Bilbo started, nervously, “I know you said you wanted a lad – if you want to take me, I don’t at all mind being taken in the ass. If you want me to take you, it’s no different than laying with any other lad. Or if you want to stop, that’s always fine as well.”
Thorin shook his head, hands landing on Bilbo’s hips again. “No, I’d like to keep going. I was just wondering how you know a lad from a lass, is all.”
“Ah, we just pick, when we hit our tweens. Or don’t! It’s not really much thought about. I’ve always thought Men and the like took it all much too seriously.”
It was quiet for a moment, as Thorin seemed to be thinking about this information. Finally, quietly, he stated, “For dwarrows, we have one or the other and that is how one generally determines which you are. But unlike the men, it’s rather easy for us to switch them out if we’re unhappy with what we started with; that happens occasionally. I suppose it not mattering is much simpler.”
Bilbo snorted, “Much simpler. All this worry over who has what- at least you can swap it around, I suppose.” He gently laid his hands on Thorin’s shoulders. “If it doesn’t bother you, you can touch, if you’d like.”
He got another nod at that, and then one of Thorin’s hand slipped under his balls and gently ran over his folds. The other hand rubbed Bilbo’s inner thigh gently – Bilbo soon found himself using his hands on Thorin’s shoulders to steady himself. He let out a soft moan; Thorin’s hands stilled, his eyes flicking up to Bilbo’s face in honest surprise. Bilbo bit his lip to keep from laughing.
“I did tell you I liked that,” he almost-chided. Thorin huffed, an annoyed little noise, and Bilbo couldn’t hold back the small laugh that evoked. Bilbo gently traced his hands up to Thorin’s jaw, cupping it. “I’d like to undress you as well, if you don’t mind.”
Thorin seemed reluctant to release Bilbo, but more than happy to have the hobbit gently pull off his clothes. The tunic slid over his head to reveal a torso that had Bilbo almost drooling; it was a masterpiece, if you asked him. Thorin was obviously strong, muscle evident across his chest and shoulders, but with enough of a layer of fat to look healthy. Hair ran over every inch of skin, save for a few scars, and Bilbo’s fingers itched to sink into it.
But there was an order to things. There were questions that needed answers before Bilbo could touch as he wanted.
“Is there anywhere I shouldn’t touch?” He prompted, “Anywhere in particular you’d like me to?”
A small spark of probably misplaced pride bloomed in Bilbo’s chest as Thorin took the time to properly consider the questions. “There’s a scar, on my left side. I would prefer it if- it’s rather sensitive-”
Bilbo hummed, effectively cutting off Thorin’s stumbling, “I won’t touch, no need to worry there. Anywhere else?” After Thorin shook his head, Bilbo carefully ran a hand down Thorin’s chest. The dwarrow shivered under him as his eyes slid shut. “Look at you,” Bilbo marveled quietly, “So handsome.”
A tweak of Thorin’s nipple ripped a surprised groan out of the dwarrow and Bilbo smiled. “Seems you like that, at least.” Thorin gave him a half-hearted glare, to which Bilbo just grinned and plucked the other nipple.
Thorin was indeed as warm as his hands, reminding Bilbo of sitting in front of a hearth. The smell of metal and smoke that clung to his skin did nothing to diminish the association. Bilbo ran a hand back up to Thorin’s jaw, cupping it just as the dwarrow decided to gently push a finger into his cunt. A surprised moan fell out of Bilbo’s mouth; Thorin’s finger was thick, compared to hobbit fingers, and filled Bilbo more than he expected.
“It’s wet,” Thorin mumbled, seemingly surprised. Bilbo snorted, leaning against Thorin for a moment and nuzzling at his neck.
“Of course I’m wet; you’re touching me.” He pulled back a little, shifting to gently pat Thorin’s right hip. “If you get up, I can take your trousers off.” The dwarrow’s fingers slipped out of Bilbo, and he held back a soft groan at the sudden emptiness. But, if this night kept going in this direction, Bilbo would get filled well enough.
It took Bilbo a moment to get off Thorin’s trousers; he had to be reminded to take off the dwarrow’s silly boots – which had the hobbit pausing. Thorin’s feet were so dainty, compared to the rest of him. Pale and small and- Bilbo hesitated. “Can I touch your feet?”
“Yes. But not the underside; it’s ticklish.”
Bilbo hummed in agreement, running his fingers over the arch of Thorin’s foot; it was smaller than Bilbo’s, even with the hobbit being at least a full head shorter than the dwarrow. Bilbo’s fingers gently traced up the foot to Thorin’s ankle, wrapping around it gently. It was a strange contrast to have such small feet on such a large, muscled dwarrow. But other races were like that.
After Bilbo’s little moment exploring Thorin’s feet, he went back to the task at hand – Thorin’s trousers. The laces came undone easily; Bilbo had to bite back a gasp as the leathers fell off Thorin’s body. Bilbo had been expecting the dwarrow to be large – he was bigger than Bilbo by quite a bit, after all – but his prick was even larger than the proportion to his size. If Bilbo’s cunt suddenly felt soaked, well no one had to know that, did they?
Thorin easily sat back down when Bilbo gently pushed his chest again. “Can I touch your prick?” He asked, licking his lips as he appraised Thorin’s half-hard cock.
“Please,” the dwarrow rumbled, voice deep with arousal. Bilbo moved to his knees, so he could better see what he was doing; Thorin’s dick jumped in Bilbo’s hands as he gently started to stroke.
It was already heavy in Bilbo’s hold before Thorin’s prick started to swell. Thorin himself groaned, his hips making little jumps up into Bilbo’s touch. Bilbo found himself shifting, slick starting to drip down his thighs and his own prick hardening further. Yavanna, he had barely started touching Thorin and Bilbo was already ready to have his dick as far in him as it could go.
“Do you want me to suck you?” Bilbo asked, still gently stroking. His free hand gently rolled Thorin’s balls in it’s palm. Thorin stared for a moment before nodding, seemingly shocked that Bilbo would offer at all.
And how could Bilbo not offer, with such a tempting cock in front of him? He barely had to lean forward to take it into his mouth. He gently lapped at the head, letting his spit wet his way as he slowly sunk down on Thorin’s prick. The cock was heavy against his tongue; it felt good to suck on it’s girth.
As Bilbo slowly took in more and more, Thorin was starting to pant; his hand landed in Bilbo’s curls, tangling and spasming but never pulling or pushing. Bilbo smiled around the dick and lowered even further – Thorin’s cock now pushed deep into his throat. The dwarrow above him was so sweet, for all his gruffness. It made Bilbo want him even more.
When Bilbo swallowed around Thorin, the dwarrow cried out in pleasure and his hips jerked forward. “Ah- Bilbo,” he groaned, when he looked up and met Thorin’s eyes. “If you do that again, I’ll come.”
Bilbo slowly pulled off, a little reluctant to let go of his treat – but a better treat was coming. Hopefully. “You can come in my mouth if you’d like,” Bilbo offered, gently skimming a hand over Thorin’s thigh, “Or, in my cunt. Or my ass. Or I could take you and you can come on my prick.”
Thorin’s hand drifted from Bilbo’s hair to his cheek, gently rubbing his thumb against Bilbo’s cheekbone. He was considering his options, what he wanted most.
“We have all night,” Bilbo pointed out, “This doesn’t have to be the only thing we do.”
Thorin nodded, letting out a soft breath. “I want to come in your cunt. Please.” Bilbo graced Thorin with another smile, standing.
“How do you want me?” That question had Thorin frowning in confusion again, so Bilbo hummed. “Here, scoot back a little. You said you wanted to feel me, to touch me; I can ride you and you can touch me to your heart’s content.”
There was a scramble to obey, and Bilbo couldn’t keep his smile from growing; it was always nice to have such an eager client – it made it so obvious that Bilbo was pleasing them. And obvious it was from Thorin, even if the dwarrow tried to hide everything under gruffness.
Bilbo carefully climbed into Thorin’s lap, reaching under him to gently stroke the dwarrow’s prick again. “Are you ready?” He asked, giving Thorin a moment to change his mind or back out. It was his first time, after all – but Thorin just nodded, eyes glazed over with pleasure even as they stayed glued to Bilbo’s face.
He sunk onto Thorin’s dick; Bilbo’s eyes fluttered shut and he moaned, loud and long. It felt so good inside of him, stretching his cunt almost to the point of hurting but not quite. It pressed against all the sensitive nerves which caused them to sing anytime Bilbo shifted. How long had it been since Bilbo had a cock quite this good? Too long.
Thorin’s pants grew quicker and the dwarrow leaned his forehead against Bilbo’s softly. “You’re so tight and wet,” he groaned, hips jerking even as Thorin tried obviously to hold them still, “Feels so good.”
Bilbo anchored himself on Thorin’s shoulders, rolling his hips and dragging a moan out of both of them. “I do believe that’s the point of fucking a cunt,” Bilbo groaned, his words a little more blue than they would be normally. How could he be expected to watch his language now, however, filled to the brim as he was?
The sound of proper fucking quickly filled the room – squelching and moaning and hisses of pleasure. Thorin’s hands had landed tight on Bilbo’s hips, as though holding them would give him the answers to life itself. Those blue eyes kept flicking between Bilbo’s own hazel ones and his mouth, however. A little shift – which pushed Thorin deeper into Bilbo, something that seemed impossible – had their breaths intermingling, their lips barely an inch apart.
“You can kiss me if you’d like,” Bilbo murmured, and almost didn’t finish the sentence before Thorin’s mouth was on his. The fingers on his hips tightened and tugged Bilbo closer; their skin rubbed against each other as Bilbo moved.
Thorin kissed like he would die if he released Bilbo’s lips. Bilbo couldn’t say he was a good kisser, exactly, but Bilbo had worse kisses. Thorin’s lips were chapped and dry and his beard scratched along Bilbo’s skin; Bilbo wasn’t about to stop kissing him though. It might not have been the best kiss, but it was a kiss from Thorin, and somehow that fact alone made it better.
It was but a few minutes later when Thorin did finally pull away, his hands gripping Bilbo’s hips to stillness and the dwarrow thrust up into him. Bilbo leaned his head on Thorin’s shoulder; moans fell from both their lips like leaves in autumn. It felt like pleasure was seeping through Bilbo’s very veins, starting from where he was clamped tight around Thorin’s prick.
But the pleasure had to end sometime – Thorin’s hips stilled, the dwarrow buried his face in Bilbo’s hair and moaned his name; warm cum filled Bilbo’s cunt. He couldn’t stop the whine from escaping when Thorin pulled out – Bilbo hadn’t come yet, and he was so- so close. “Please,” he groaned, “I just need a little- your hands, please-”
Thorin, apparently having gained some confidence at some point, used his grip on Bilbo’s hips to flip him onto the bed. He bounced a little against the mattress, the feathers easily cushioning him. Before Bilbo could quite figure out what was happening, Thorin’s mouth closed over Bilbo’s cock and his fingers gently pushed into his cunt.
The climax hit Bilbo like a hammer; his back arched and he moaned. His prick jumped in Thorin’s warm mouth, spilling his pleasure as slick gushed out of him. When he fell back against the bed, spent, Thorin slumped down onto him. Bilbo found himself running his fingers through Thorin’s long, beautiful hair as they both caught their breath; it was soft and obviously well tended. The room smelled strongly of sex, but also strongly of Thorin – the smoke and metal filling his nose.
It was calming, more than Bilbo expected. Thorin was safe, and warm as he half-laid over Bilbo. He found himself drifting off into a doze – until the dwarrow broke the silence.
“Did I please you?”
Bilbo shifted, propping himself up on his elbows so he could meet Thorin’s eyes. “Yes. Quite thoroughly too! But my pleasure isn’t as important as yours; did you enjoy yourself?”
The little wrinkle in Thorin’s brow returned, as though the idea that Bilbo’s pleasure was not as important as his was an anathema to him. He answered Bilbo regardless. “Yes,” Thorin’s voice was breathy, almost, “I- Yes. Very much so.” His brow smoothed again as Bilbo started to run his fingers through his hair again, though Thorin’s eyes didn’t close.
“I’m glad,” Bilbo stated, honest, “And now you can go back to your friends and tell them to shove off.”
The frown on Thorin’s face deepened. “That wasn’t the only reason I laid with you.” Bilbo felt a warm affection fill his chest. How sweet this dwarrow! Even if it was a bit misplaced.
“I know,” Bilbo assured, “If that was the case, you would have taken the hickey and we would’ve had a fun night playing cards. But you don’t need to worry about my being offended; it doesn’t much matter to me what your reasons for buying my services are, as long as you enjoy yourself.” He fiddled lightly with a braid woven through Thorin’s locks.
Thorin’s frown just grew, but he gave a soft hum of assent and closed his eyes. They fell back into a peaceful silence. Bilbo could hear the candle sputtering on the other side of the room. He’d have to replace it before they laid together again – and Bilbo was rather certain they would. After they regained their wind.
“Why are you in the Shire?” Bilbo asked suddenly, breaking the silence. He flushed lightly when he realized how accusatory it sounded. “Ah- you don’t have to answer. I’m just curious.”
He was treated to another look at Thorin’s blue eyes, the dwarrow seeming to search Bilbo’s very soul again before answering. “Me and my- the other dwarrows. We’re blacksmiths and artisans, here to try selling our works. We spend the Spring and Summer traveling to the nearby dwarven holds and mannish towns; my sister suggested we try the Shire as well, when we passed by.”
Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “If that’s the case, shouldn’t you be prepping your things for marketday tomorrow, rather than lying about in bed with me?”
That caused Thorin to scowl, the dwarrow rolling off of Bilbo. “My kin decided that I needed ‘some time away from my work’. They’re doing the work now, and I’d be with them but-” A blush dusted Thorin’s cheeks, “They threatened to write my sister if I tried to, and then sent me away here.”
“Well, I can’t say I dislike the outcome,” Bilbo tried to soothe, shifting so he could tuck himself up against Thorin’s chest while they talked, “I’ve had a good time so far, and imagine the rest of our night will be just as fun.”
Thorin was quiet for a long moment; Bilbo let the silence stretch on. It wasn’t uncomfortable and sometimes a little lull was needed for one to gather their thoughts. Thorin seemed like the type that was true for, at least. So Bilbo just rested for a moment, letting the wavering light and warm body pull him back into another doze.
“Bilbo.” Thorin’s voice, low and soft, brought Bilbo back to the moment, “Would you-” He cut off, pausing. Bilbo’s eyes opened to see the dwarrow’s pretty face flushed again; he couldn’t help the smile that curled at the corner of his lips.
“Would I what?” He prompted, after Thorin’s courage seemed to fail him. “There’s no reason to be ashamed. Nor am I going to go about gossiping like some silly Leafspotter from Bywater.” Bilbo bit back the impulse to assure Thorin that he was safe here; the dwarrow might find that a bit condescending.
“I want you to take your pleasure from me,” Thorin stated, blue eyes scurrying away from Bilbo’s gaze. “I want- I-”
Bilbo caught Thorin’s jaw again, shifting to sit up on his elbows. “Do you want to be a good boy for me?” He asked softly, licking his lips. What a thought that was, having this strong dwarrow bend under him, so pretty and desperate-
“Yes,” Thorin breathed, “I want that. I want-” He huffed again, obviously frustrated with his inability to put voice to needs. Inexperience, Bilbo guessed, rather than true hesitance. Hard to know what words to say if you’ve never encountered them, after all.
“Shh,” Bilbo soothed, running his thumb over Thorin’s cheek. The dwarrow’s beard was soft under his fingers – well taken care of, for how oddly short it was. Bilbo found himself wanting to work oils through it, taking care of Thorin as thoroughly as he could. A thought for another time. “We’ll figure out what you want. Do you want to be my good little slut? Or maybe just a toy for me to use? A brat who needs a firm hand? Perhaps a bed-slave, picked for my chambers for your pretty eyes and good behavior-”
A soft whine sounded from the back of Thorin’s throat. Bilbo’s smile blossomed into a true grin. “Oh, you like that one?” He move to sit up, pulling Thorin up with him. “We can do that- if you’d like to.”
“Please,” Thorin near-whispered, the flush starting to spread to his ears. He leaned his weight against Bilbo’s side heavily, “If you’d like, I don’t want to force you.”
“You’re not forcing me into anything,” Bilbo assured, hand dipping from Thorin’s face to his neck and tracing soft patterns in the warm skin. “But if we’re going to do something like this, we’ll need to lay out a few more things, to make sure we don’t get hurt – either of us. Understand?”
Thorin nodded, and Bilbo pursed his lips but let the silent acknowledgement slide. The dwarrow would relax as the conversation went on. Probably. Hopefully.
“We’re not going to do anything too intense,” Bilbo started, turning his head to leave a soft kiss on Thorin’s shoulder, “I don’t mean to offend but- this is your first night in someone’s bed. I don’t want to overwhelm you. And there’s plenty we can do that’ll be in that vein that will be more than satisfying, without us getting into anything extreme. Alright?”
Thorin nodded again, but Bilbo shifted so they were face to face. “I need you to tell me that you understand,” he prompted, “I need to know that you understand that I don’t want to hurt you – at least not in any way that you don’t want.”
A scowl this time, from his dwarrow. But he opened his mouth regardless. “I understand. I’m happy with whatever you want to give.” A pause, another hesitation, “I just want to make you happy.”
Bilbo hummed, cupping Thorin’s face in his hands. He wanted to frown but kept his face neutral; such a strong need to make Bilbo happy wasn’t entirely safe, with this type of thing. “You’ve been making me happy. But I still need to know when you’re not happy.”
Thorin’s fingers twitched where they lay against the bed, and the dwarrow turned his head away. Bilbo’s grip tightened on Thorin’s jaw. “I will be more upset to learn that you weren’t having fun and didn’t tell me than I would be if you just told me. I need you to promise me that you’ll tell me, or else we can’t lay together like that.”
The candle sputtered as Thorin pressed his lips together, hard enough that Bilbo could see them turn white for a moment. “Alright,” he finally acquiesced, tilting his head in acknowledgement, “I don’t- I don’t think I want to be hurt, though. Just- I want to make it good for you. Want to be good for you.”
That put a little pep in Bilbo’s step. He gave Thorin a smile, and a soft kiss to the side of his mouth. “Good boy,” he purred, feeling a little guilty for the obvious manipulation it was, “That’s exactly the kind of information I need. Why don’t I give you an outline of what I’m thinking, and you can tell me if there’s anything you don’t want to do, okay?”
It went smoothly after that, Thorin agreeing easily to most of it – with the occasional, hesitant no. Bilbo quickly found that Thorin bloomed under his praise like a morning glory on the dawn; those blue eyes were all the more beautiful for it. It didn’t take long for Bilbo to be running his hands over Thorin’s body almost possessively – though, why shouldn’t he? Thorin was his for the night, after all. As long as Thorin wanted that.
It didn’t take long for Bilbo to have Thorin on his knees, between Bilbo’s legs. Bilbo ran his fingers through Thorin’s soft locks as he watched him. “You remember the rules?” He asked softly, tracing his hand down Thorin’s face and tapping the corner of his mouth with his thumb.
“Yes.”
“Mm.”
“Yes, sir.” Thorin corrected himself. Bilbo grinned, leaning over to leave a kiss on his nose.
“There’s my sweet,” he murmured, pulling Thorin’s face to his groin, “Use your pretty mouth on me.” Bilbo couldn’t quite hold in his excitement at the idea of Thorin’s lips around his prick. His hand fluttered back up to Thorin’s hair, fingers sinking into the tresses as Thorin’s mouth sunk onto Bilbo.
Thorin wasn’t the best at sucking dick, but what he lacked in experience he made up for in sheer determination. He seemed to be trying to evenly coat Bilbo’s prick with his tongue, trying to make sure not to miss a spot; it took very little redirection to have Thorin sucking and teasing at Bilbo’s tip. Little shocks of pleasure tickled up Bilbo’s body, causing his stomach to clench rhythmically.
“What a well behaved lad,” Bilbo murmured, pleased to see Thorin’s eyes flutter with satisfaction at the praise – at knowing he was doing a good job. A stray wondering wandered through Bilbo’s mind, of what Thorin’s day-to-day was like for him to enjoy praise so thoroughly, but he brushed it away; it wouldn’t do to get distracted from such a pretty sight after all.
Thorin had started to bob, his large hands gentle on Bilbo’s thighs even as they almost encased them. Blue eyes peaked up at Bilbo occasionally, an obvious attempt to gauge how Bilbo was liking his treatment. The hobbit couldn’t resist lightly tangling one hand in Thorin’s long hair; he did manage to resist tugging Thorin closer by it.
The moans that Bilbo was letting out might have been a little exaggerated, but they were an honest display of pleasure. Pleasure that was quickly mounting; Bilbo had to pull Thorin off his prick, gently of course, before he came – there was more fun to be had after all.
“Come here,” Bilbo beckoned, lightly guiding Thorin into his lap by his thick hair. The dwarrow settled heavy on Bilbo’s legs; he had muscle enough to make him weigh far more than a hobbit. Not that Bilbo minded – the muscle bunched deliciously as Thorin moved and balanced himself. He couldn’t help but lean forward to catch one of Thorin’s pecs in his teeth. He didn’t bite enough to bruise or leave a mark, but the press of his teeth was enough to pull a gasp of surprise from Thorin. Bilbo nuzzled the muscle in a soft apology, though it hardly seemed that Thorin minded much.
His hands gently trailed up Thorin’s legs, until they rested on the dwarrow’s hip. Thorin really was handsome in Bilbo’s lap, hair spilling over his shoulders and as the flickering candlelight spun illusions of gold and silver through the strands. His eyes were bright against the flush of his face, bluer than any sky Bilbo had ever seen.
Bilbo wrapped a hand around their pricks, pressing them together as he gently stroked; his hand could hardly grasp both at the same time. Thorin didn’t seem to mind as he ducked his head and let out a low moan. His hips stuttered before stilling, still trying to be good for Bilbo.
Bilbo couldn’t help but preen a little.
“Lift your head, I want to see your pretty eyes.” The hobbit’s tone was soft, but no less demanding for it. Thorin did as he was bade, and Bilbo tugged him down for a soft kiss as a reward. “Good lad,” he murmured, still close enough to feel Thorin’s breath mist across his lips.
Thorin bit back a soft whine of pleasure and Bilbo didn’t bother to hide the smile that elicited from him. “Seems I picked well,” he cooed, hand twisting as he worked their cocks together, “Beautiful, well-behaved, interesting...” Bilbo was a little surprised to find himself honest in his words; Thorin had managed to thoroughly charm Bilbo in just an hour, like a tween at Harvesttide.
The stifled whines were quickly growing into full moans, and Bilbo found himself chasing the noises from Thorin’s throat. Anything to get more of the beautiful dwarrow in his lap-
“Please, Sir,” Thorin begged as he panted, a soft and pitiful thing.
The orgasm hit Bilbo like a horse- He couldn’t think of anything but the sweet pleasure, couldn’t see anything but Thorin’s eyes as he shot cum across their stomachs. It drained from him slowly, leaving him loose and gasping for breath under Thorin’s bulk. His soft prick was still pressed against Thorin’s throbbing cock; cum smeared over their stomachs and groins.
“Oh,” Bilbo finally managed, still panting, “That was a surprise. A pleasant one, but still...” They had planned on doing much more, but Bilbo didn’t think he’d be up for any of it now. Not with how hard he had just come simply to Thorin begging.
Thorin shifted in his lap - moving to climb off - but he stilled when Bilbo gently squeezed his hip. “I don’t think we’re done here,” Bilbo clarified at Thorin’s questioning gaze.
A frown line appeared between Thorin’s brows. “But you came.” As though Bilbo hadn’t noticed!
“Yes, and I’m not done with you yet; I’m not about to let such a pretty lad go wanting. Lie down on the bed.”
They both shifted positions, Thorin laying out to Bilbo’s hungry eyes. Bilbo regretted having to tear his eyes away but the prize of Thorin’s cries when Bilbo engulfed him in his warm mouth were balm enough. It took very time with Bilbo’s tongue and fingers to have the dwarrow coming down his throat. Bilbo swallowed around him to the sound of pitiful groans of over-stimulation, before gently pulling off of Thorin’s prick.
It was silent for a long moment, broken only by their soft panting – until Bilbo chuckled and gently nudged Thorin’s knee. “I think it’s time we took a break – and a bath. We’re both a little messy now.” Cum was still smeared over their stomachs, and dripping out of Bilbo’s cunt. Not to mention the spit and slick on them.
Thorin propped himself up on his elbows, seemingly reluctant to get out of the bed. The candle sputtered for a moment. “A bath?”
Bilbo nodded absently, digging through a nearby chest for towels. “Yes. I’ll clean us both up and we’ll both have some time for a rest.” And Thorin would have some time to come back to himself as well. They hadn’t done anything horribly intense, but that didn’t mean Thorin still didn’t need some gentle handling for a little while.
The towels came out of the chest with a little urging around the bed linens. “Come on,” he urged again, holding out his hand for Thorin to take. The dwarrow did so, his legs a little shaky still as Bilbo lead him into an adjoining room.
Bilbo started the candle in the bathroom with quick match, bustling around as he turned on the faucets and got things together. Thorin examined the faucets for a long moment, almost thoughtful.
“Before you ask, no, I don’t know how Rosemary got it to work with hot water like that,” Bilbo injected; a lot of customers were curious about the workings of the brothel’s bathrooms.
“They’re dwarven,” Thorin replied simply as he sunk into the water at Bilbo’s urging, “They’re common in our strongholds. I’ve never seen them outside of our mountains, however. I’m more curious as to how they found their way to the Shire than how they work.”
Bilbo hummed, soaping up his hands and slowly working the grime off of Thorin’s skin. “I don’t know; you’d have to ask Rosemary. Although, knowing her, she gave some dwarrow such a mindblowing orgasm that he decided to pay her back with these.” He chuckled a little at the though, and Thorin mirrored it with his own soft laugh.
They fell into a comfortable silence, Bilbo climbing in quickly after he had finished with Thorin to clean himself off. After a perfunctory clean, he crawled out of the bath and dried off. Now time for-
“Ah-” Thorin spoke for the first time in the last few minutes, as Bilbo gently picked up his hair. Bilbo paused, holding the strands of midnight lightly.
“Is there a problem?”
“It’s- intimate. For one to tend to a dwarrow’s hair.” Thorin’s tone was lightly strained, as though he were unsure that he should say anything.
Disappointment rushed through Bilbo’s veins. Of course. If tending one’s hair was an act that lovers did and dwarrows had the opinions on prostitution that Bilbo had gleaned they had, of course Thorin wouldn’t want him to do so. It was really too bad; Bilbo wanted nothing more at that moment than to gently comb out the tangles.
“I see,” Bilbo started, sounding far even than he felt inside, “Should I not, then?”
There was a long pause, where there were no sounds other than the gentle drip of the tap into the tub and their soft breaths.
“I- Please do. It just wouldn’t have been right for me not to inform you.”
The disappointment fled as quickly as it had come on, replaced with a warm tenderness. Bilbo picked up the comb, gently running it through the loose strands and putting them to rights. Thorin relaxed back against the side of the tub; the easy, warm atmosphere returned between them, and they finished in silence.
Bilbo handed Thorin a towel, quickly putting things away. Once they were both dry, he tugged the dwarrow back into the main room by his hand.
In their absence the candle had finally gone out, leaving the room completely dark. Bilbo cussed softly under his breath. “One moment, let me replace the candle.”
Thorin did not release Bilbo’s hand. “Must you, just yet?” He asked, tone soft and vulnerable. “I just-” He cut off, falling silent. Bilbo gently squeezed his hand.
“It can wait. We have all night. Let’s at least sit on the bed, though.”
The soft kisses they shared then, laying in the dark and the soft linens, was secretly Bilbo’s favorite part of the night they spent together.