So I've started taking prompts on my Tumblr (longlivetherain) for a bunch of different pairings and fandoms (including Durincest, Thilbo, and yes, chickies, Bilbo/Bofur or Boffins or Bilfur or whatever you choose to call it), and I got one from the ever-lovely scorpioninthesink which was basically: "Bilbo kisses Bofur on the cheek unexpectedly and Bofur faints clean away. Well. Guess they're even."

And I thought it was super fucking adorable, so here we are with a fainting Bofur. I'll leave it as a one-shot, unless people want me to continue. Have fun~

Bilbo is a Hobbit, okay? Hobbits aren't that strong or observant and they certainly aren't skilled swordsmen. They have no reason to be, after all. The Shire is a quiet, safe place and most of its inhabitants found their calling in farming, which didn't take as much strength as forging or building or whatever it is that other races do.

So he really isn't sure why he's suddenly being sent to scout ahead with Bofur, Glóin, and Kili'n'Fili. Maybe he should be more appreciative, as this means that Thorin and the rest of the company really are beginning to accept him, but all he has going for him on a scouting mission is his ability to sneak... Or walk get around much quieter than the Dwarves. Other than that, there was nothing. He could barely even use a sword to defend himself! He just hopes that they won't run into those nasty Orcs, or any other beasts, for that matter.

But then, when did anything ever go how he wanted it anymore?

Not even half an hour into their little trip, they stumble upon a group of Orcs (of course), which starts a debate if sorts in their own group. Glóin wants to just rush in and fight the Orcs head on, positive they can take the small troop on their own. Kili'n'Fili, however, suggest more of an ambush, where Kili shoots arrows at them from high in a tree, and the other four jump out and attack when the ugly creatures investigate. Bofur wrinkles his nose and tells them to hush their voices before saying that maybe they should just try to sneak around the Orcs; Thorin wouldn't want them looking for trouble. Bilbo hasn't a say in the matter, just idly listens to the others bicker as his eyes roam.

They're sat on the base of a grassy hill, the Orcs camped out just on the other side, but Bilbo isn't feeling too concerned about the noise they're making. Orcs are rather dumb creatures.

Or so he tells himself, right up until the debate turns into a full blown argument and their voices steadily rise. Bilbo worriedly tries to hush them, but finds mid-'shhh' that he's too late when he hears Bofur, directly across from him, shout, "Bilbo!"

Bofur reaches over to fist the front of Bilbo's already ruined vest, hauling him forward with one hand while the other embeds his pickaxe right into a filthy Orc's skull all in one movement. The thing falls dead just behind Bilbo with a loud cry, sword raised above its head in what must've been preparation to attack, "Oh my..."

He had been so close to death... So close! The Orc must've heard the group fighting, came up to investigate, and had been about to actually kill Bilbo when Bofur spotted him. Before he can thank the Dwarf, or even wonder how an Orc had managed to sneak up on them, screeches rise up from the other side of the hill. The rest of the Orcs appear on the crest within seconds, one or two of them atop Wargs. They had surely heard the dead one's cry...

It's a small group, thankfully only about five or six, but apparently Glóin isn't too sure that they can fight them off anymore, as he's the one that yells to run. Despite that, Bilbo doesn't move at first, practically paralyzed with fear as he watches the Orcs very quickly advance. In no time at all, they're upon the scrambling Dwarves and frozen Hobbit, making absolutely dreadful noises.

The first one down the hill spots Bilbo and sees its chance in prey too terrified to move, raising its sword when it's close enough. Just as the weapon swings down, someone grabs the back of Bilbo's coat and jerks him backwards. Within seconds, another Orc lays dead from a pickaxe to the head and the burglar finds Bofur's hand in his, the Dwarf tugging him along through the forest.

An arrow whizzes by his ear and Bilbo can hear the cry of another Orc as it falls dead, courtesy of Kili. The youngest dwarf is still running, of course, but his upper half is twisted around so he can shoot at the pack. Fili's got a hold on his little brother, shouting out instructions every few seconds ("Jump here!") in an effort to guide him safely. Thankfully, it seems to be working.

Bilbo nearly trips on a tree root a few moments later, but Bofur is right beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist and effortlessly helping him regain his footing so he doesn't fall behind. The Orcs are far too close for either of them to be comfortable with stopping for any reason.

As if proving that point, one of the Wargs picks up speed, snarling and snapping at their heels as its Orc cried out encouragingly. Bilbo sends Bofur a worried look and they instantly both push themselves to move faster, the older of the two looking at their hurriedly passing surroundings.

"Come along, Bilbo!" Bofur shouts, suddenly tugging Bilbo to the right in between trees. They grow close together, leaving a narrow path that's just big enough for a Dwarf and a Hobbit but not for an Orc atop a Warg. This buys then some time and gets a couple of the Orcs of the others' tail.

Bofur pulls Bilbo further into the trees before gesturing for him to climb one of them, which he does immediately. As soon as he's safe tucked into the branches, Bofur motions for him to stay where he is and then returns the way they came.

Worried, the burglar shifts in his spot to watch what happens. Bofur gets a good distance away but stays in Bilbo's line of sight, pressing his back against the trunk of another tree and holding his pickaxe tightly with both hands. Before Bilbo can wonder what's going on, there comes the snarling and grunting as the two Orcs and the Warg come crashing through the brush, apparently having found a way after them.

Bilbo immediately draws back and flattens himself to the branch he's perched on, just barely able to see a bit of what's happening. The Orcs get closer and closer, following their scent, before he finally sees that strange little hat bob up and the pickaxe swing through the air right into the Warg's face. With that dead, Bofur takes advantage if the fact that the Orcs are still surprised and strikes one right through the chest. The other screeches angrily and goes to slash at Bofur, but the Dwarf catches its blade with his, causing the sword to go flying through the air. The Orc doesn't last more than a second after that.

Bofur fixes his hat on his head before bounding over to Bilbo's tree, dropping his weapon and reaching upwards, "I've taken care of 'em, Bilbo! We must go!"

Bilbo wastes no time in climbing down the tree, allowing Bofur to help him down before the older snatches his pickaxe from the ground. They share breathless, adrenaline-laced, slightly grim smiles before Bofur takes his hand and they're off again.

They make it back to the camp in another ten minutes of sprinting, only relaxing when they see Kili'n'Fili guzzling down water and Glóin tending to a minor scratch on his arm. They'd seen the dead bodies of the other Warg and three Orcs on the way, but still, they'd been worried.

Thorin doesn't seem to mind that their scouting trip got cut short, just gets their recounting of the story before nodding and leaving them to recovering from the excitement.

Once Thorin is gone, Bilbo looks over at Bofur and they share another grin, this one relieved and a little exhausted around the edges but still happy.

It's then that Bilbo realizes they're still holding hands and briefly squeezes Bofur's before dropping it with a blush, "I hadn't the chance to say it before, but thank you. For saving me."

"No reason to thank me, Master Baggins," Bofur blushes, as well, and Bilbo tries not to feel disappointed that the Dwarf has returned to calling him Master Baggins after the excitement is over.

But he does, anyway, and he speaks before realizing what he's doing, "Call me Bilbo, please."

"Oh... Alright, Bilbo," Bofur pauses, as if seeing how the name feels on his tongue, before smiling shyly and tugging his hat further down on his head, "No more Master Baggins, aye?"

"Right," Bilbo agrees quietly, still blushing a great deal as a few butterflies worm around his his stomach.

They stare at each other for a long moment, just smiling, before Bofur clears his throat and bows slightly, the moment gone, "If ye'll excuse me, dinner should be started."

"Of course," Bilbo nods and chews at the inside of his cheek, watching as Bofur begins to turn away, "Bofur?"

The Dwarf stops and faces Bilbo again, humming curiously, "Hm?"

"Thanks again for saving me," And before his Baggins side can protest, he raises himself up onto his tiptoes and plants a kiss onto Bofur's cheek.

In turn, the former toymaker stares at Bilbo in surprise for just a second before fainting clean away.

"Huh," Bilbo blinks at Bofur's prone body before his thoughts roam back to the night he'd first met the Dwarves, a fond smile appearing on his face as he sinks to his knees to tend to Bofur, "I reckon we're even now."

Yay 3

Okay so imma leave it like this for now, like I said earlier, unless people want me to continue. Let me know!

Also, reviews don't hurt, yo. I take requests both on here and on my Tumblr, so... Yeah. I'm out.