AN: I was about to go to bed at 1 in the morning when I thought of this. Just a cute little fluff drabble, and the first K+ story I've ever written, and the first story under 1k words. Yay for me!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own LOTR of the Hobbit. Bless J.R.R Tolkien's heart for giving us fangirls such a wonder fandom to worship! ;D

Finally, the day had come. They would no longer be sitting on logs for chairs, using the ground for sleeping or using the woods as a bathroom. Actual handkerchiefs could be used for running noses, their filthy clothes could be washed as well as their grimy, dirt-laden skin.

The day had come were they could stay at an inn, and they all reveled in the fact. A certain Hobbit more than the others.

Gods, how I've waited for this day! Bilbo thought as they checked in and were shown to their rooms. He got his very own Hobbit sized chamber, with a feather-down bed, a pail for washing his face and a small fireplace.

He met his fellow travelers downstairs for a hearty meal of mashed potatoes, pan-fried fish, bread and ale. All were silent as they ate and even Thorin and Bilbo let their manners slip at times. It was nice to have a decent, non-stew meal in their stomachs. When they were done, they all sat at the table contentedly, ignoring all the looks men gave to the dwarves. Dwalin and Kili started sharing stories, from their own battles to other travels to their conquests in the bedroom. The ale had gone to their heads; the conversations soon was fragmented with drunken laughter and silly topics that really didn't make any sense to the young Hobbit.

The sky had grown dark and though his companions probably didn't remember that they had the chance to sleep in an actual bed, he did. Soon he was snuggled up between the sheets, pulling them up to his chin and tucking an arm under his pillow. It was like sleeping on a cloud compared to the rough terrain he was used to. His eyelids became heavy and he relished the fact that a decent night's sleep wasn't that far away.

But it didn't come.

After an hour of lying there, Bilbo sat up and looked around. Was there something keeping him awake? Sure there was the subtle noises of people downstairs in the dining room, but that was nothing next to the snoring of his companions when they were sleeping right next to him.

The bed reminded him of home, the fire crackling in the fire place kept him warm and the night shirt he had bought earlier allowed for comfort his usual clothes did not. Was that it? He was too comfortable? It was quite a big difference from what he was used to, so against his better judgment he pulled off the comforter and pillow, laid them on the hard stone floor and made a little nest for himself. It was better, and closer to his accustomed way of sleeping, but another hour passed and he still hadn't even drifted into a doze.

Frustrated he hit his fist on the floor and moved back to the bed, since it obviously didn't make a difference where he was. He sat there with his arms crossed and a pout on his face; tonight was the one night he would be able to sleep and not waking up aching all over! And now he couldn't even do that!

"Blast it," he muttered. Grumbling to himself, he glared at the fire, as if it would help his situation. So when a loud, powerful knock was heard on the door, he nearly jumped out of his skin. "Come in!"

To his utter surprise, it was Thorin who peered around the door frame and looked at him.

"Thorin? Is everything all right?" Did they need to leave because of some issue? He wouldn't doubt it if some of his companions were still at the bar.

"No, I was just seeing if you were all right."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just…I meant that I came to see if you were settled in yet." For some reason, Bilbo had a nagging feeling that the king wasn't telling the truth. Bilbo watched with confused eyes as the dwarf came over and sat on the edge of his bed. "I thought you would like it if we took a night to stay in real beds."

"Oh…ah, yes, thank you. It's very nice. It reminds me of home." Despite the fact that he couldn't get a wink of sleep.

"Good. Sleep well Master Baggins." Bilbo smiled as Thorin stood to get up when a crash was heard downstairs, then raucous laughter. The king cursed under his breath and slumped back onto the bed, head in his hands. "Those fools…" he muttered.

The Hobbit was about to console the obviously distressed dwarf when suddenly a wave of fatigue hit him and he could hardly keep his eyes open. Groaning, he fell over onto Thorin's shoulder. The feelings of someone next to him was familiar and comfortable. Perhaps this was what had been keeping him up; being alone after getting used to sleeping around thirteen other people was quite a change.

"Bilbo? Are you all right?" There was uncharacteristic worry in the leader's voice, but that still didn't rouse the dozing Halfling.

"Hmmm…" he muttered.

"You're such a useless thing." Thorin grumbled before lying down and taking the Hobbit with him. "Such a useless burglar."

At the moment, Bilbo didn't care if he was being insulted or if he was being a burden. Anyone could walk in right now and see their compromising position, yet neither would have moved. Because now they could both sleep, mannerisms be damned.

Thorin was here next to him, and that was all that mattered as he fell into comforting darkness.

So Bilbo couldn't sleep because Thorin wasn't there. Awww, isn't that cute? And Thorin doesn't even care; I'm betting he had the same trouble and just doesn't want to admit it, the stubborn dwarf.

1/20/13: I now have a poll open on my profile page to see if my readers want another Thilbo fic or a Fili/Kili (Durincest) fic, so vote now! :D