Ignoring a dwarf under any circumstance is a difficult feat, Bilbo Baggins has found. Never mind when that dwarf is outright making advances on you. Especially when that dwarf is Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, with his regal stance, his deep, rich, commanding voice, his proud eyes that glittered like polished sapphires—

Bilbo was disrupted from his thoughts with a jump by a heavy hand squeezing his shoulder. He followed the hand upward to the face of its owner, only to flush a deep, embarrassed pink to find that it belonged to none other than the object of his thoughts and desires.

For though it was true that the hobbit was doing his best to brush aside Thorin's compliments and kind gestures, he wished he didn't have to. Bilbo had to admit to himself that he liked the dwarf very much, was more attracted to him than he had ever been to any other hobbit, or dwarf, for that matter. And it was no small wonder, for Thorin was quite majestic to behold. He had a strong bearing, his body shaped from countless battles and hours at the forge, and rough hands, seeming as if they were hewn from the stone with which the dwarf worked—though Bilbo knew they were capable of delicate, loving movements, of inlaying the most precious gems carefully into soft metals, and he itched most to see this, experience it…

Bilbo had been staring. The mild expression Thorin had been giving him had changed very subtly, one corner of his mouth curved upward in a small smirk of confidence, his eyes slightly hooded, as if he knew Bilbo's thoughts. Bilbo gave a nervous cough as an excuse to break eye contact as again his skin burned hot like he was sitting too close to a bright flame.

"Master Oakenshield," Bilbo murmured in acknowledgement. He couldn't keep in a shudder as the dwarf's large hand squeezed warmly at his shoulder.

"Master Baggins," Thorin returned, finally removing his hand from the hobbit's shoulder. Bilbo breathed in a small sigh of relief. Even the thought of any of the dwarf king's body pressing against his own sent Bilbo into a very confusing tizzy of lust and panic. The real occurrence of it wrecked Bilbo entirely.

"I was wondering if you would do me the favor of braiding my beard," Thorin asked, his proud voice betraying not even a hint of nerves. Bilbo, on the other hand, felt as if his nerves had exploded. Quite against his will, his mind conjured up images of his fingers wrapped up in Thorin's thick hair, twining through it as he stood between the opened thighs of the dwarf…the opened thighs of the dwarf, so very close to—to… Bilbo felt faint with fear. He jumped up immediately, catapulting himself several inches further away from the dwarf, who looked startled from his outburst.

"Oh! Ah, that—I. I really wish I could help with, with your trouble, Master Oakenshield, but! I've only just remembered that I promised Fili and Kili that I would, um…find more firewood with them this very afternoon! Yes, I so promised them, and now I must fulfill my oath! You—you must understand, they would be very upset if I didn't show up. Sorry, I must go!" A very red Bilbo bolted away into the trees, leaving a crestfallen Thorin Oakenshield behind.

Later that night, Thorin was rather distant as the dwarves settled around the fire to have a smoke before they turned in for the night. Bilbo, as much as he felt horrible for running away from the dwarf, could not deny that he felt some relief at this. As he went about getting his bedroll ready, he assured himself that rebuffing the dwarf's advances as politely as he could was for the best. Though Bilbo desired the dwarf king greatly, and often had rather scandalous dreams about him pressing his lips hungrily against the hobbit's own, things invariably turned south, and that's precisely where Bilbo froze up.

Bilbo, though a Took he was, was still a Baggins, and that meant that he was a hobbit of respectable size and stature; which is to say, Bilbo was incredibly average in size as far as hobbits go. But here, amongst thirteen dwarves and a wizard, Bilbo was and felt entirely too small. And Thorin Oakenshield, of the royal Durin's line of dwarves, was particularly tall and broad for a dwarf. And though Bilbo didn't necessarily mind the largeness in general—he was certain there was nowhere he would feel safer than in Thorin's strong arms—he was quite afraid of the intimacy relations with Thorin would call for; for if Thorin was bigger in stature and in the breadth of his shoulders and in the thickness of his arms, Bilbo was certain that Thorin had to be bigger and thicker everywhere else.

Bilbo shuddered and curled himself more tightly under his thin blanket, squeezing his eyes closed and looking very much like a child frightened by a monster. Bilbo supposed that that was a very apt description of the problem at hand. Bilbo was no stranger to the occasional tumble with a hobbit lass, and even a few furtive kisses stolen with a small number of hobbit lads, but Bilbo had never been taken—not by a fellow hobbit, and certainly not by someone as large as Thorin must be. Bilbo's buttocks clenched in involuntary fear. That was why he must go on as if he were oblivious to the dwarf's advances, he assured himself as he fell into an uneasy sleep.

Bilbo woke last of the company, feeling anxious and ill-rested. Unfortunately, this did not go unnoticed.

"Master burglar! You look positively horrendous!" Kili called out gleefully. Bilbo muttered darkly at the laughing dwarf and shuffled himself away from the campsite to the stream that flowed not far off. Upon arriving at the stream, he carefully removed and folded his shirt and knelt by the bank to splash the cool water on his face and chest.

Today will be a very long day, the hobbit thought to himself, his brow wrinkling in displeasure. The hobbit shook his head to remove excess water droplets and turned to put his shirt back on only to squeak in surprise. He was kneeling in front of the dwarf king, who was holding his neatly folded shirt and wearing a look that he could not quite read. And Bilbo, on his knees, was now face-to-face with the monster plaguing his waking thoughts. Thorin cleared his throat, and Bilbo snapped his eyes up to his face. The dwarf took in the the flustered face of the hobbit, cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment, and gave a small, reassuring smile before speaking.

"I must come clean to you, Bilbo Baggins," the dwarf began briefly considering the shirt in his hands before looking back down on the hobbit. "Forgive me for speaking so plainly, but I can no longer bear to be subtle about it: I desire you. Greatly. I have for many moons now. I had believed you to desire me as well, though now I confess that I am not so sure, since you have yet to respond to my advances." For the first time Bilbo could ever remember, the dwarf looked unsure of himself and rather uncomfortable.

"I, um…" Bilbo stammered, feeling naked and exposed to the dwarf standing above him.

"I desire you, but I do not wish to make a fool of myself. I would have you tell me if you are feeling…adverse to my courtship, and I will cease at once." Thorin stood tall and proud as ever, his arms, bare to the elbow from where he pushed up the sleeves of his tunic, in front of him, hands clasped in an effort to show patience and understanding. Bilbo found himself staring at the musculature of his forearms and the largeness of his hands and felt the familiar swell of desire and fear rise in his chest until he could bear it no longer.

"I desire you, too! But I am afraid!" Bilbo's face, ears, and chest burned as he stared resolutely down at the grass in front of his kneeling legs. He had never felt more mortified in his entire life, which is quite the feat, as just last week Fili and Kili had stolen his clothes as he bathed, forcing him to scramble back to camp to find them, naked as a babe in front of the whole company. Bilbo felt a rough hand, a hand he had been dreaming of, tilt his head up. Thorin Oakenshield sunk to his knees as well, leveling them nearly eye to eye. Bilbo gulped.

"What is it that frightens you, Bilbo?" the dwarf asked softly. Bilbo felt hot shame boil low in his belly. He supposed he must tell Thorin now, as he had already told him how he felt.

"I-It's just that I am a hobbit. You are much larger than I, and… I've never been taken before." Bilbo rushed out the last bit and shut his eyes. He knew Thorin could feel the heat of his blush from this close, and this served to embarrass him more. As much as he had tried to prove to the dwarf king otherwise, he was still and would always be a scared little hobbit.

Bilbo was startled into opening his eyes by a deep, rumbling chuckle from the dwarf.

"My dear hobbit," Thorin began fondly, "that is not a worry. I desire you, yes, but above all I want most for you to feel comfortable and safe." Bilbo reeled at this. He didn't think that anything could have surprised him more than realizing that the dwarf king desired him, was attracted to him. Bilbo did not think Thorin beastly or unkind, but he had not thought that the dwarf would want much more than to take pleasure from him. Bilbo again felt shame settle into his stomach until Thorin continued.

"Besides, there are countless other ways for us to enjoy each other." The dwarf's eyes had now darkened with lust as he stared at the hobbit, who only just fully realized that he was half naked in front of him. "I would show you, if you would allow me."

Bilbo felt as if his whole life had been reduced down to this one moment. He knew that this was silly, but his answer to this proposal could change the course of his life, at least for the next few months. He could not just ignore this as he had Thorin's advances earlier. There was no sneaky way out of this, even if he wished for one. He wanted Thorin, desperately, and he knew he would just have to trust him, his leader, to keep him safe from harm.

"I would like for you to show me," the hobbit replied, eyes shining eagerly through the heavy blush darkening the skin along the bridge of his nose and apples of his cheeks. Those were the first places Thorin brushed with his lips, and Bilbo was surprised by the tenderness of the dwarf before Thorin stole his lips in a searing kiss.

Bilbo allowed the dwarf to gently nudge him backwards until he was lying in the grass looking up at him. Bilbo's hands scrabbled onto the dwarves broad shoulders and gripped them tightly as Thorin began to attack his neck with open mouthed kisses and run his hands gently down Bilbo's exposed chest. Bilbo failed to hold in a cry as he felt teeth scrape up his neck. Thorin looked up at the hobbit with concern in his eyes.

"Have I hurt you?" he asked Bilbo with such sincerity that he couldn't stand it. In response, he tangled his fingers in his hair, as he had dreamed of the day before, and pulled the dwarf king down against his mouth, eliciting a groan of surprise from him. As Thorin ran his tongue along Bilbo's bottom lip, he felt the dwarf begin to undo the claps on his shirt, pressing his bared chest against the hobbit's. Bilbo groaned upon the contact of Thorin's sturdy chest, the thicket of chest hair there scratching against his unfurred chest delightfully. The hobbit was utterly lost in the pleasure of Thorin's solid weight atop him.

Bilbo was remotely embarrassed about the shameless sounds that spilled from his lips as Thorin's mouth worked down his chest. But it seemed as though the dwarf enjoyed the sounds Bilbo made, a particular whimper of the hobbit's as lips and teeth enclosed around a nipple causing him to groan deeply and clutch more tightly at Bilbo's hips.

Bilbo was enjoying himself immensely and was beginning to think his hesitation silly until he felt Thorin start to unlace and pull at his trousers. Bilbo froze as he felt the cool morning breeze on his bare thighs.

"I will not hurt you, Bilbo." Thorin's lips were pressed against the hobbit's ear, reassuring him as his calloused hand gently encircled Bilbo's cock. Bilbo sucked in a breath between his clenched teeth as the hand began to stroke him slowly. He moaned and bucked up helplessly into Thorin's hand as he began to pump faster and ran the tip of his tongue around the shell of his ear. Bilbo wasn't sure how much longer he'd last at this rate, thrusting up involuntarily into the heat of Thorin's hand as he was thrown closer and closer to his climax.

Suddenly, Thorin ceased his ministrations and removed his hand entirely. Bilbo keened at the loss of contact and sat up on his elbows to see why the dwarf had stopped. His eyes grew wide as Thorin freed from the confines of his trousers his own cock, and it stood proudly erect and every bit as large as Bilbo had feared. Another whimper fell from Bilbo's lips, causing Thorin's eyes to darken as he looked down, cock in hand, at the flushed hobbit below him. Bilbo watched, entranced, as the dwarf king began to stroke his own hardness, eyes roving over Bilbo's form.

Bilbo was shaking with need as he watched Thorin work himself, the head of his swollen prick weeping drops of pearlescent fluid. Bilbo slid his hand down his stomach, but before he could wrap his own fingers around his aching length, the dwarf grabbed his hand and brought it to his cock. Bilbo flushed pink as he felt how hard the dwarf king was for him, and with some difficulty, he wrapped his hand around him and began to stroke him. Thorin hummed in pleasure as he ran his hands up and down the hobbit's thighs, making Bilbo shudder and whimper under his skilled touch.

Without warning, Thorin bent over the hobbit, bringing both of their cocks together. Bilbo gasped as the dwarf closed his hand around both of them and began stroking them quickly with a low growl. Thorin swallowed the hobbit's moans and pulled at Bilbo's soft bottom lip with his teeth. Bilbo felt himself approaching the edge quickly and wrapped his arms tightly around the dwarf's neck. Thorin moved his mouth lower, sucking a mark into the junction of the hobbit's neck and shoulder. He suddenly nipped the hobbit in the same spot, causing Bilbo to see white and cry out his completion as he released between them. His cry sent Thorin off, grunting as he followed.

The two lay panting and entangled by the side of the stream for some time. Their companionable silence was broken by the sound of Bilbo's good-natured laughter. Thorin, after shooting a bemused look at the hobbit, now lying on his chest, joined in. Bilbo thought that it was truly a wonderful thing to finally have someone that could make him feel fearless.