Noticed
Summary: Bofur had always loved to make his friends smile, but there was one dwarf in particular that he longed to keep happy for the rest of his days, but Bofur knew that a dwarf like Thorin could never notice him.
It had already been a long road on the quest to Erebor, which Bofur had foolishly thought would be much less... life threatening. He was tired, dirty, and more than a little on edge, but he was still doing his best to remain positive, and lift the spirits of those around him. Which had always been his way. He never thought of himself. If he could make someone smile, that was enough for him. Just putting that small piece of happiness in their day was worth it to Bofur, and that satisfaction was even greater depending on who was smiling back at him.
Bofur remembered the first time he had made Thorin smile.
It was at Bilbo's home. Bag End, if he remembered correctly. After all of the business had been said, and Gandalf had taken a very woozy Bilbo to the back room to speak, it had happened. He had actually done nothing more than express concern for the hobbit. He recalled it so vividly. He looked to Bifur, who had been on his right, while Thorin was on his left at the head of the table, smoking his pipe. "I hope our burglar didn't hurt himself too badly. I'd hate to think it was my fault." Bifur had signaled 'wait', which Bofur knew to mean 'wait and see', then, for a reason he still could not place, he looked over to Thorin, who caught his gaze and smiled at him.
It was short, and his white teeth only peeked through his lips, as he placed the mouthpiece of the pipe between them. Though just as short, it was that warm. It was a real smile, and his blue eyes had sparkled in a way that almost made Bofur forget he was looking at a king. It was Bofur who broke the gaze, in fact, looking down at the table as he returned the grin, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the sentiment with someone so... indescribable.
Now, they were all crawling through some cramped crevice in the earth, scurrying away from orcs, and Bofur found this a much less enjoyable situation, though you wouldn't know it from the way he giggled at Bombur, who was having a very difficult time making it through the tight space.
"Come now, Bombur!" He said lightly, pushing his cousin through a particularly small spot. "Can't have you blocking the way for the rest of us."
It continued like this for what felt like ages, when they finally emerged, on a tall cliff, overlooking the most beautiful city he had ever laid eyes on. The waterfalls that surrounded it were almost uncountable, and the sun caused the stone to glisten in it's setting. The air was cleaner, and the water was a crisp blue. Bofur was in awe. He barely heard Bilbo put a name to what he saw.
"Rivendell..."
The toymaker looked up when he heard Thorin and Gandalf start to speak, and he knew his king was not pleased, and he understood why, though he hoped they would have the chance to go there. He wanted to see it up close. Elven or not, it was so welcoming. Finally, they made their way down and after a shaky first meeting, they were now sitting around, enjoying a very generous, even though odd, meal.
Bofur had tried not to notice the absense of Thorin from their table, and found himself envying Gandalf, and the Elf Lord who were now able to have his company as they dined. Though, despite his thoughts, he was glad to be in a comfortable place, with food, and merry company. Hopefully they could manage a bath, and a warm place to sleep, and the toymaker would be more than content, and would find reason to question all he had heard of elves.
It was that night, the very first night in Rivendell, that Bofur had his first private conversation with Thorin. Though, he found he would only enjoy remembering part of it later. He had been walking alone, humming a happy tune, and just taking in the sights in the moonlight. The statues and intricate carvings in the railings of the balcony was absolutely magnificent and Bofur found himself filled with the urge to carve something. He wasn't sure what exactly, but he just felt inspired. He reached in his pocket and felt for his knife. It was there but he didn't pull it out. He started to look around, realizing he had nothing to carve.
Then his eyes landed on a branch that was winding it's way over from it's origin in a brave tree on the mountainside, causing it to hang very close to the edge of a balcony not far from Bofur. The toymaker smiled, and jogged over. Once there, he noticed that the branch was within reach, but to have a thick enough piece to actually carve, he would have to work for it. He peered over the edge of the balcony to see that the mountain continued down, but not too far below, the elves had made a pathway out of it, causing it to now be lined with white granite. So, steep hill to stone. He decided he may come out injured, but not dead at the end of it, if he were to fall, and found it worth the risk. All he had to do was reach over far enough, and snap the branch in the right spot.
He scrambled up onto the railing, until his both of his knees were on it, and the toes of his boots were hooked on the safe side. He reached as far as he could without making his balance shaky, and grabbed the branch at a decent thickness. It was the last thought that did the toymaker in. Perhaps whatever he was going to carve would need a base, and maybe he should try for a just a bit thicker. As soon as he reached the extra half-inch, his boots slipped. He yelped and grabbed the branch with both hands, but it snapped right where it connected to the tree, and there he went, branch and all, tumbling toward the stone path below.
He tried to stop himself, but he was rolling end over end, and picking up speed as he went. It was on the last flip that he had noticed Thorin. The king had just enough time to look to his left, pipe in mouth and hand, before Bofur crashed into him, sending them, and branch, flying across the stone, until they landed in a large, ornate fountain, rushing and spraying with ice cold water.
Bofur gripped the side of it, and pulled himself out of the water, up to his elbows, gasping and coughing, only then noticing that he could easily stand in it, even though it came up to his thighs. Then he heard Thorin shoot up from the water, his long hair sopping on his head. He pushed it all back with one hand and steadied himself on the side next to Bofur. He spit out some water, and took a deep, hurried breath before looking down to see a large branch floating in the water beside them.
"What in Durin's name were you doing?" He finally said, and even though his tone was harsh, he helped Bofur stand straight, and made sure he could before letting him go.
"I-I... was getting some wood..." Bofur looked down at the branch and felt his whole face grow hot as what had just happened really sank in. "I was going to ... carve something." He sighed, realizing how incredible idiotic he must look, not to mention they were still standing in a fountain. Thorin huffed, and jumped out of the fountain with ease, only using one hand to brace himself on the side. Bofur wasn't as skilled. He found his soaking hat, and placed it on his head. He had to use both arms to brace himself on the side, but just as he jumped, Thorin wrapped his large hands around Bofur's wrists, and pulled him out with ease.
He looked up at Thorin, and from the heat that he felt he knew he must be blushing like a maiden. He looked down, and started speaking quickly: "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to run into you like that. Well, not that I meant to fall in the first place, but I certainly didn't mean to hurt you." Then Bofur gasped as the thought occurred to him, and he looked into Thorin's eyes. "You're not hurt are you?"
Thorin looked at Bofur suspiciously for a second, but then his brow softened and he actually chuckled a bit as he started to wring out the dark blue robe he was wearing over his normal traveling attire. "I'm alright, Bofur." He looked back over to him quickly, however, and added: "Are you?"
Bofur nodded, but started moving each of his limbs to make sure none hurt worse than the other, even though his whole body was now throbbing from his tumble, and he could feel the hot stinging of the scratches and scrapes he had received. Thorin looked up to the balcony above, the one Bofur had fell from and let his eyes follow the toymakers path to the fountain.
"You're lucky I was there." He said finally, "If I hadn't slowed you down, you could've been killed." Then he scoffed a bit and continued: "You could've killed us both..."
"I'm sorry." Bofur said looking down, trying to ignore the dripping that was coming from everywhere. "The last thing I would want is to hurt you." The words had just came out, and even though they were very true, Bofur immediately felt embarrassed all over again, and he could sense the blush returning. Finally, he gathered enough courage to look up, and Thorin was gazing at him with questioning, yet soft eyes.
"I said I'm alright." He confirmed. He walked over and fished the large branch out of the fountain and handed it to Bofur. The toymaker looked up at him, and there it was. A smile. Soft, and warm like the first, but this one was longer, even though he was soaking wet, and probably more than a little frustrated. Bofur smiled, but still could not hold the king's eyes as he did. "What are you going to carve?" Bofur shook his head, as he peered down at the branch. He wanted to just throw it away. His inspired mood was gone, now all he could think about was how he just bowled their king into a fountain, even if he was being understanding about it.
"Nothing..." He said finally, and tossed the branch into the bushes beside them.
Thorin gave him a confused glance, but before he could speak a breeze rolled by and chilled them both to the bone. Bofur, had to turn, shielding his wet face from the icy breeze. Thorin wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "Come." He said to Bofur, motioning for him to follow. "Let's get out these..." As he passed the bush, however, he stopped and, once again, grabbed the branch and handed it to Bofur. "Carve something." He said, tilting his head and smiling yet again. Three in one night? Bofur was on a roll. "I'd hate to think all of this was for nothing."
It was Bofur's turned to chuckle, but he nodded and as he followed the king, he broke the access off the branch until he had about a foot of thick, cylindrical wood. Perfect for carving almost anything, though he still could not see the form living in the wood, and now he felt very pressured about it. He examined the grain, and twisted it this way and that, still following Thorin closely.
Finally, they made it to the room that had been arranged for Thorin, and Bofur couldn't help but marvel at it. Then, Bofur realized he should have gone to his own room, that he was sharing with his cousins, to change. He only had one other outfit with him, but he felt a bit inappropriate. He had just followed him. Perhaps he'd follow Thorin Oakenshield anywhere. Of course, he had said to follow. His thoughts were slowed by Thorin stripping off the soaking robe, and tossing it out to the balcony. He wasn't wearing his coat, or armor, and the blue tunic that he did sport was stuck to him, every muscle showing perfectly. Bofur only took it in for a second but turning, and focusing on the soon-to-be carving in his hand.
"Here." He heard the king say, and when he turned back, Thorin was within arms length, holding out a tunic similar to the one he wore. Bofur took it, but the immediately held it back out to him.
"I have some clothes." He smiled. "In my room. You don't have to-"
"It's fine." Thorin always knew just what volume, and tone to set to make an order clear, and Bofur just nodded.
Thorin turned around, and went back to the bag he had gotten the tunic from, and fumbled through it. Bofur watched him, unsure what he should be doing. He finally sat his branch on a small table by the door, and pulled his hat and coat off, having to take a few steps toward Thorin to pitch his coat out on the balcony with Thorin's robe, which just seemed the most appropriate place at the moment. Thorin finally turned around with a shrug that was the most casual movement he'd ever seen from the king. He held out some dark, drawstring trousers, and said: "I'm certain these will be too large for you." Bofur took them. "But the string will help."
Bofur smiled and him, and couldn't help but laugh at how personable Thorin could be. Thorin's head tilted slightly in that way when he was trying to understand something. The toymaker had noticed it, and cared for it. "I'm sorry." He said. "I just feel a bit... ridiculous."
"And why is that?" Thorin said, as he turned and grabbed a change of clothes for himself.
Bofur had to scramble for an answer that would make sense. "Just... what happened. Not my best moment you know... and now..."
Thorin turned back to him, but instead of the warm smile Bofur had seen before, this was more of a smirk, but then it faded and that thoughtful look came back on his face. "Is it so odd that I would be kind to you?"
Bofur shook his head, and took an involuntarily step toward him. "No!" He then backed off quickly when he saw the alarm in Thorin's eyes, and spoke again, softer: "I mean... That's not what I meant."
Thorin chuckled and shook his head. He turned, and in one swift movement of his right hand, he pulled his wet tunic over his head. Bofur could feel his eyes widen as Thorin's raven hair cascaded back down onto his back and shoulders, releasing droplets of water, to slide down the curves of the muscles, and scars. He tore his eyes away, and turned back, walking toward the door and into the shadow, where there were no candles. He changed quickly, not looking up to where Thorin was. They had changed in front of each other before, but always in a crowd and never so quietly. Bofur felt much better when they were both clothed, and Thorin motioned for him to come out to the balcony, lighting a new pipe.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Thorin said through puffs of swirling smoke. "You seem nervous."
"Nah, not nervous. Embarrassed, maybe..."
Thorin smiled, but he looked to the sky as he did. "No need." He said, "No harm done."
Bofur laughed, starting to feel a bit more like himself. "Aye." He agreed, "Though, I'm not so sure it will be worth it. I haven't the faintest idea what I want to carve..."
Thorin offered the smoking pipe to him, and it took it gratefully.
"I have faith that it will be worthwhile." Thorin said simply, working his left braid apart slowly with his fingers, holding the bead in his hand. "I've seen your carvings."
"You have."
Thorin nodded, now starting to braid the black and silver strands together again, each loop falling perfectly. "Bifur's dagger handle. You carved that from bone, did you not?"
Bofur nodded. It had been a birthday gift.
"And the beads that Bombur wears in his braids..." He replaced his one silver bead, "You carved them from stone."
Bofur nodded again, smiling over the pipe as he puffed it, watching Thorin's hands work smoothly on the next braid. He felt a warm feeling come over him that Thorin had noticed such small things. Though, it was common knowledge he was a bit of an artist, those just seemed the most simple and pure things, the gifts for his family.
"You're skilled Master Bofur, and since that wood came at such a price." He shot him a look that was a bit narrowed but playful, "I trust you'll do something useful with it."
Bofur chuckled, and looked down, hardly believing he was having such a light conversation after what had happened. Thorin reached over and pulled the pipe from Bofur, and took a casual drag, leaning on the railing of the balcony. He stared up at the stars, and the toymaker couldn't help but notice that his eyes matched them perfectly. Finally, he pulled his gaze from the king and looked up at the sparkling night sky.
"It's late..." Thorin said lazily, letting smoke roll from his lips as he spoke.
"It is." Bofur agreed, still looking up at the sky, which seemed just as beautiful as everything else in Rivendell. Then his face fell, and he realized suddenly that he may be over staying his welcome. He backed away from the rail, and Thorin turned to watch him. "I should probably be going. I've cause you enough trouble for one evening."
Thorin nodded to him, though his face seemed to drop a bit. Bofur couldn't really place what the shift was, but it made him stop. "If... that's what you want." He said, finally, just wanting to please the king, as he always sought to.
Thorin gave him that soft smile again, and said: "I don't mind your company, at all, and you have caused me no trouble."
The toymaker smiled. He walked over and grabbed the block of wood, and his knife, and rejoined Thorin on the balcony. He sat on the railing, close to where Thorin was leaning and started inspecting his canvas again. The king watched him, smoke rising from the pipe in unpredictable swirls between them. Bofur finally started to shave away some impurities, just starting generically. Thorin let his crystal eyes follow the toymaker's fingers.
"What shall you make?" He asked after another moment of silence.
"Hmmm..." Bofur still could not see it, though this would not be the first project he started without a plan. "A gift, perhaps." He said cheekily.
Thorin chuckled. "For whom?"
Bofur knew exactly who he meant to gift the sculpture to, but he was feeling a bit playful. "Ah, perhaps Kili... or Fili... Certainly Master Dwalin, or Balin would appreciate the gesture... Bifur and Bombur have received gifts already. Ori would enjoy it..." Thorin was watching him with an amused grin on his face, and Bofur couldn't help but add: "Perhaps for you..."
Thorin's grin faded, and he looked at Bofur with sincere surprise in his eyes. His head tilted just slightly in that way, then he looked down, and spoke softly: "You don't have to give me anything, Bofur."
"Of course I don't have to..." Bofur replied, shaving off some more of the pale grey bark. "Maybe I wanted to."
The king shook his head, but looked up at Bofur with those sparkling blue eyes, and smiled again. "I'll leave the decision to you, Master Toymaker."
Bofur studied the way he looked in the moment. His left arm lying perfectly in front of his chest on the railing, and right elbow beside it. The pipe was in his mouth, cradled by his right hand, and then and idea came to Bofur's mind and the toymaker knew precisely what he wanted to carve, and started shaving very small pieces to start creating the shape. He wanted to look back up often, and he started moving his hands faster, finally seeing the art trying to work it's way out of the wood. They were quiet for a long time, and Bofur only braved two looks, and both times, Thorin was in the same position, but the first he was watching Bofur's hands and the second, he was watching the stars.
He wondered for a moment if the king would appriciate his idea. It made turn out a bit odd, but he was set it it, but even though it was far from looking like anything, he slowed, not wanting to give it away, and he suddenly found himself wondering again if he'd lingered too long. "You must be tired..." He said, wanting to gauge the king's reaction, but he merely shrugged, and finally knocked the ashed contents of his pipe over the railing.
"I'm always tired." He said, honestly without looking up. "Rest does not come easy to a troubled mind."
"Perhaps not." Bofur said, sliding off the rail to stand beside Thorin. "Though rest can do wonders, if it does come."
The king nodded, but turned back to the sky, and Bofur started to wonder why he was so taken by it. Finally after another odd silence he asked: "Fond of the stars?"
"Yes." Thorin answered without hesitation. "I think they're beautiful."
"Aye, they are." But Bofur wasn't looking at the stars, he was looking at Thorin's eyes. The king looked down and caught his gaze. Thorin gave him that questioning gaze, and Bofur felt the blush return, knowing he'd been caught staring. He looked down and started mumbling. Finally he managed to get out: "I should let you get some sleep." Thorin watched him as he backed up, adjusting his hat nervously. "I shouldn't keep you." He said again.
"Bofur, if I wanted you to go, I would tell you." The toymaker froze, not quite sure what the king had meant. He chuckled nervously and looked at the ground but before he could speak, Thorin started again: "Do I make you so nervous? It didn't seem so before..."
"No, no." Bofur shook his head. "Not at all. I enjoy being around you, Thorin."
"Then, stay." Thorin said, motioning for him to return.
He did so, even though his heart was threatening to escape from his chest. He didn't know Thorin well enough to read his expression, though he did notice a look of content he had not seen before, and a bit of ... hesitation? Something. Bofur jumped back onto the started on his carving again. Thorin watched him quietly.
"I'm glad you came, Bofur." The king said finally.
"And why is that?" Bofur stopped carving and looked up with a smile.
"Because..." Thorin said, turning his eyes back to the sky. "You make people happy. You have a light about you that is contagious. I appreciate it, and I think the others do, as well. This journey would be much darker without you."
Bofur let his hands fall slowly, and even though he could feel the blush on his cheeks, he did not look away from Thorin. "The honor is mine." He said, and Thorin looked down at him. He smiled again and Bofur was lost in it..Thorin was beautiful. Inside and out, and every second Bofur spent with him, he became more and more smitten. He sighed and as his body slumped, his balance wavered, and Thorin had to reach out and push him back to keep him from landing face-first on the stone.
Thorin laughed. "You're being clumsy tonight." He teased.
"Ah, joke's on you..." Bofur said lightly, getting down before he embarrassed himself further. "I'm always clumsy."
Thorin pointed at the beginnings of Bofur's carving. "Surely someone who can make such beautiful art could not be called clumsy all the time."
Bofur laughed. Actually, he did feel like he was clumsy all the time. Especially today... or any time he was around the king really. "It would have to come out at the worst time, then." He admitted, trying to make a joke, but Thorin looked at him closely, then a smirk played on his lips.
"You feel embarrassed?"
"Well, of course..." Bofur looked at him as if he had missed something right in front of him, "I fall from a balcony, that's just ridiculous. Then, I roll into the king! Not to mention landing us both in a fountain only weeks from winter. Then you have to share your clothes with me, and sit here listening to me prattle on about things you already know..." He slowly stopped talking and took a deep breath. "Of course I'd feel a bit foolish."
Thorin placed a hand on Bofur's shoulder. It was gentle, but his hand was large enough to cover the entirety of it. Bofur felt his breath hitch a bit, and prayed Thorin hadn't noticed it. He didn't seem to as he spoke: "You shouldn't worry. I think no less of you." He looked up at the sky again, but his eyes did not linger long, and his hand remained on the toymaker. When he glanced back down, brown eyes met sparkling blue, and he spoke again in a different tone: "I'm quite fond of you, actually."
Bofur parted his lips to answer, but he barely finished his breath before Thorin's hand tightened and yanked him forward. Bofur had the throw his hands out to avoid stabbing the king with the knife he was still holding. He felt a large arm reach around his back, and pull him until they were touching from chest to knee, and their lips were pushed together in a desperate, hurried kiss. For a second, Bofur couldn't move. His arms stayed out in front of him, one hand grasping the knife, the other holding the branch craving. Then emotion rushed through him, and he finally caught up to what was going on.
Kiss him, you fool!
The knife and wood fell with a clank, and Bofur's arms wrapped Thorin's shoulders, pulling him closer, opening his mouth to let his king's tongue invade it. They kissed for a long time, both equally wanting, and rushed. Thorin had moved both of his hands down to Bofur's hips, holding them together with a constant force, while the toymaker was twisting and running his fingers through the black and silver hair of his king. Then, just as quickly as it began, Thorin stepped back, letting his arms drop and nearly stepping on the wooden block behind him. Bofur just stood in shock, one of his hands reaching up to touch his lips.
"Forgive me." He said quickly. It was odd to see the king flustered, but he certainly was now. "I didn't mean ... for that to happen."
Bofur couldn't help but let out a laugh. Did that really just happen? "Your tongue betrays your words." He said simply. Thorin looked up at him, and his eyes were wide. Bofur knew he had to take the moment of passion while he had it... before Thorin came to his senses. He stepped forward, placed their lips very close and whispered: "Impulse looks good on you, Thorin Oakenshield. You should try it more often." He had to lift up a bit to press their lips together, but Thorin leaned down to meet it swiftly, and before they knew it, they were grabbing at each other, and panting with need all over again.
This kiss took much longer to break and when they finally did, Bofur was pressed against the stone wall, halfway inside, halfway on the balcony. Thorin actually had to stand him back onto his feet soundly before stepping back, finally separating them completely. Bofur wanted to reach out to him, and beg him not to go a step further, in fact, he was already too far away, but he held his tongue, and watched as the king seemed to be examining every aspect of his face.
"So, you've felt it as well?" Thorin asked.
Bofur had to think for a moment not quite sure what he meant by 'it'. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Surely that wasn't the first time you thought of kissing me."
Bofur shook his head immediately. "Who wouldn't think of kissing you?" He was attempting a joke, his defense for tense situations, but Thorin did not laugh, or even smile. He just gave Bofur a look that told him he had guessed wrong. Perhaps 'it' had nothing to do with kissing. Bofur looked down, trying to think of something to say. Damn, he almost literally had the king in his lap, and he was messing it all up.
"Bofur..." He looked at the king, whose eyes were shining in a way that Bofur had never seen, although his concerned brow was a normal thing. He stepped forward and took the toymaker's hands. "You are selfless beyond measure. You are so genuine. In the time that I've known you..." He peered into his brown eyes and Bofur felt stuck. Frozen. "I've come to admire a lot about you. I apologize that I haven't spoken before."
Bofur finally blinked a few times, and tried to respond, but he was still doing his best to determine if he was in an incredibly vivid dream. After shaking his head, and taking a deep breath he was finally able to say: "What would a king want with a simple toymaker? You could have anyone..."
"I don't want anyone." Thorin said in that commanding tone, and leaned in to steal another swift kiss. When he spoke again, his voice was low and breathy. "I want someone who can give me light where I've had none..."
This time, Bofur kissed him, really starting to understand what 'it' was. It was another long one. Passionate, and hungry. Bofur tried to think of what to say when it broke, but he kept being pulled into the lips of the king, and all thought left him. He never thought that falling in love would literally feel like falling, but suddenly, his legs were weak, and the wall, and Thorin was all that held him up. A wave a emotion went through him as Thorin moved his lips down to his neck. An overwhelming realization that he could never again go on without the king but his side, and he had to speak: "Thorin..."
The king looked up, almost releasing him, but noticed quickly that he was shaky, and unbalanced.
"Are you sure you-"
"Yes." Thorin held him close. "I'd have a courtship with you as soon as Erebor is reclaimed. Before, if that's your wish. I know how I feel, Bofur. If you feel the same... please, tell me."
Bofur almost gasped as he felt the falling feeling again, this time in his chest, and he had to wrap his arms around Thorin to steady himself, but then he smiled. "Of course I do." He said sincerely. "Absolutely."
Thorin closed what little space there was between their lips, and Bofur clung to him. He still wasn't quite convinced it was real, but he figured if it was a dream, he was going to enjoy it. Thorin's hands clutched and pulled, he was rushed, staying true to his character. Bofur submitted, and basked in the feeling of being caught in the king's grasp. Suddenly it felt a cool hand slide up the large tunic he wore. He jumped a bit, and Thorin's hand slowed but did not stop. He broke the kiss and his voice was low and calm, but there was also an urgency to it: "Stay with me tonight. Please."
Bofur just nodded, and finally, Thorin backed away from him, but he reached forward with one hand, lacing their fingers together. He led the toymaker to the the bed. It took a bit of effort to get onto it, being taller than they were used to, but once there, they smiled at each other. Bofur looked down at the beautiful silk blanket and let out a nervous laugh.
"Are you alright?" Thorin asked quickly, and Bofur nodded at him.
"Aye, I'm wonderful, actually. It's just... shocking, I guess."
Thorin looked down, and Bofur immediately felt bad for the look of guilt that came upon the king. "I should have spoke before now." He admitted.
"No, Thorin." Bofur moved forward, and laced their hands together again. "You've done nothing wrong. I'm just happy, and a bit overwhelmed... I never thought that you would noticed... someone like me."
Thorin pulled Bofur close, guiding his head to rest on his chest. He pulled his hat off, and for the first time he could remember, Bofur did not object to it. THe king stroked his hair softly, and spoke quietly: "You speak of me as if I'm unattainable, yet you fail to see what you have to offer." He kissed Bofur's head, "I would envy any dwarf that had you."
"You have me." Bofur said, nestling to his chest. He couldn't help but place an innocent kiss on the king's slightly exposed collarbone, but the hum the came from his lips caused the toymaker to smirk, and bite down in the same place. Thorin groaned, and gripped his hair a bit, and a wave of excitement flew through Bofur, know that he was the cause of his sounds.
He summoned up his courage, and moved to straddle the king's hips. Thorin smiled at him, but Bofur did not wait for words. He kissed him deeply, letting his hands get lost in the mane of black and silver once again. Thorin hummed against his lips, moving his own hands down until they were holding the toymaker's hips, slowly starting to rock them back and forth. Bofur clung to him, trying to hide how nervous he was starting to feel.
He was no virgin. Male or female, but this wasn't just anyone, and this was no fling. His emotions were raging, and he felt that surge once again, and that suddenly pull towards the earth. He was falling in love, and he had to break the kiss suddenly to take in a sharp breath. Thorin froze, and moved his hands to cup Bofur's face. "What is it?" He asked.
Bofur couldn't hold anything back from those sapphire eyes. "I just..." He sighed again. "...love you, and I'm not quite sure how to handle it..."
Thorin's head tilted but this time it was not in thought, but sympathy. He pulled him into a beautiful, loving kiss. That in broke in short bursts to speak: "I... love you... Please... do what you will... I'm yours."
Bofur melted into the kiss, and slowly his hips started moving without guidance from the king, and soon they were rocking against each other, hands searching and grasping for anything they could. Thorin started to kiss down his neck, humming against his skin as Bofur gripped his hair. He quickly stripped Bofur of his shirt, and then, in a swift movement, flipped them to where he was between the toymaker's legs, hovering over him, kissing his chest.
"Thorin..." Bofur felt the nerves emerging again.
"Don't be afraid." Thorin said, and Bofur felt a blush come up, wondering if he had let his nervous feelings show. "I've got you."
He lifted up, and pulled his shirt off. Bofur's hands shot to his chest, groping, and rubbing the muscles he'd admired before. Thorin closed his eyes, and rested on his legs, allowing Bofur to explore his chest, and abs. Bofur had to bite his lip to keep from moaning, and he felt his pants suddenly grow agonizingly tight, and he had to shift a bit to be comfortable. This caused Thorin's eyes to open, and he smiled down at him. He leaned down and kissed a path down his chest, and stomach, distracting from his fingers hooking in the top of the pants. The he yanked them down quickly, and Bofur gasped.
Thorin chuckled at him, and kissed his sensitive hips. Bofur did moan now, and let his hands slide over his king's smooth, muscular shoulders. He felt his heart thumping in his chest in anticipation. Thorin spread kisses all over his hips, teasing his now hard cock with slightly licks and warm puffs of air until Bofur was squirming under him.
"Please..." He begged finally.
The sly smirk that played on Thorin's face told Bofur one important thing about his king. He liked to be begged. Thorin immediately took all of Bofur in his mouth, starting with a slow but rough rhythm that made the toymaker whine. His head started to spin, still unable to believe where he was, and what was happening. He was in bed with Thorin. Thorin Oakenshield! He was naked, with the king sucking him like he meant to never stop. He gripped Thorin's hair, as he sucked particularly hard, and he bit his lip again, not wanting to be too loud. Thorin's hands were almost flailing. Rubbing over every inch of Bofur's body he could reach, never once letting up on how he was sucking him.
Bofur started to feel a bit overwhelmed. He pulled on Thorin's hair, and let out a whimper, and in a flash, the king shot up, and captured him in a comforting kiss. Could he already read him so well?
"I'm sorry." Thorin said, pressing their foreheads together.
"Don't be." Bofur kissed him sweetly. "It's just... been a while since I've..." He let his voice trail off, and Thorin smiled down at him.
"If you'll let me..." The king whispered, "I'll make love to you tonight, and every night after..."
Bofur kissed him, trying to keep his breath steady. "Then take me."
Thorin's hand went straight down to grip Bofur's hips as he kissed his neck and ear, whispering sweet words in Khuzdul. Confessing his love over and over in their native tongue, as his hands started to move to more sensitive areas. He gripped the toymaker's backside, and it made him jump a bit, but he quickly pushed back into his touch, and reconnected their kiss, interrupting Thorin's words. He hummed over Bofur's lips, and then slowly pushed one finger inside him. Bofur's tensed and flew up into the king's chest.
"It's alright..." Thorin kissed his lips when he tried to speak, freezing his movements for just a moment. He then started to move again, and Bofur whimpered into his shoulder, feeling a bit invaded, but also loving the feeling of anything Thorin was doing to him. Thorin waiting until Bofur was rocking his hips to meet his hand before slowly pushing in another. This one made Bofur cry out a bit, and tighten his grip in Thorin's hair. The king gripped his waist tightly with his free arm, as the other push back and forth slowly into Bofur.
"Thorin... Please. I want you."
Thorin kissed him, and unwrapped his arm from his waist, and finally pushed his trousers down, releasing his painfully hard, and noticeably large erection. His other hand continued to work the toymaker, stretching him, and preparing him. Bofur let his body fall still, all except his hands and eyes which were trailing all over the king.
Suddenly Thorin pulled his hand back and Bofur arched toward him in response. "Please, Thorin." He begged again, "I need you."
Thorin let out a sound that made Bofur's heart skip. It was like a moan, but it was so full of need it was almost a whine. He grabbed the back of the toymaker's knees and pushed them up, he released with one hand, and started to guide is hard cock. Just before Bofur was about to express how nervous he was, Thorin pressed in slowly. Bofur's mouth fell open and his hand flew to the king's shoulders.
"Mm..! Thorin!"
Thorin kissed him deeply, swirling their tongues together and he pressed deeper. Bofur tried to break the kiss a few times, but Thorin didn't allow it until he was buried all the way inside. The toymaker's hand tightened, and he moaned loudly. Thorin kissed his neck softly before whispering to him: "Are you alright?"
"Mmm... yes..." He was trying not to shake.
"You feel amazing." He kissed his chest, "Please, Bofur..." He started moving slowly, and Bofur's head fell back to the pillow with another moan, opening his neck to the small kisses Thorin was placing on him between his words: "Let me... keep you... tonight... and always..." Bofur melted at his words and let out another passionate moan when Thorin quickened his pace.
"Thorin..! Kiss me."
Thorin's hands shot up to his shoulders, pulling him down to meet his thrusts, as he kissed him again, pushing his tongue into his mouth roughly. Bofur had not imagined Thorin to be as passionate. He figured, as a lover, the king would be more calculated. Slow, and observing... but now as Thorin's breath increased, and his body moved faster, and slower as he was coming in and out of conscious thought, Bofur was glad he had been wrong. Seeing Thorin unravel like this was enough to make Bofur want to unravel himself, let alone how he was making love to him in a hot swirl of passion, and sudden feelings.
Bofur reached down and took his hard cock, and immediately started stroking it quickly, unable to contain himself as Thorin now started biting, and sucking on the sensitive part where his shoulder met his neck. The king was almost humming, though it wasn't melodic. Bofur gripped his hair and tried to pull him up for a kiss, but Thorin refused, barring his teeth down and changing his angle a bit to push deeper, causing Bofur to release him, and gasp.
"That's it..." Thorin said in a dark, strained voice. He then lifted up, and took Bofur's hips harshly, and started pumping into him harder than anyone had ever done to him before, and Bofur bit his lip hard and continued to fist his hard cock. He gazed up the king above him, and felt the love surge through him again, but this time it was more overwhelming as his orgasm rush upon him. His free hand grasped at Thorin's. The king released his hip, and grasped his hands tightly, their fingers falling together quickly.
"Thorin... please... I'm going to-" The king suddenly fell down, and kissed him hard, his hips jerking, and all at once, Bofur knew he was over the edge. Thorin's large hand suddenly wrapped around his own and starting pumping his cock very fast. Bofur gasped, and moaned into the kiss as he felt his body start to tense. It was the most breathtaking orgasm he could ever remember. Thorin holding him, not slowing down, in fact, becoming more erratic. Kissing him, and moving their bodies together in a perfect rhythm. He spoke through the kiss, but Thorin backed away enough to hear.
"I.. love you, Thorin..."
Thorin kissed his forehead, as they both finally started to float down from the high they were just feeling. Thorin pulled back and grabbed a cloth from the dresser beside them, and wiped them both clean without saying anything. Bofur felt a bit awkward in the silence, but the king seemed content, and that's all that mattered, anyway. Once clean, Thorin slid into the bed with him, making sure to be on the side away from the wall, putting Bofur between himself and the stone. He leaned down, and kissed him again, and this time, the happiness boiled up in Bofur so fast, he laughed over the king's lips.
Thorin backed away, and smiled: "What's so funny?"
"Nothing." Bofur said, placing his hands behind his head, and looking up at those crystal blue eyes with a playful grin, "Just feeling pretty proud of myself." He winked, and Thorin actually laughed.
"I see more cause for someone to envy myself than you."
"Then you're as blind as you are attractive."
Thorin tilted his head in that way that Bofur could really get used to seeing, but he smiled, and kissed him again. He then moved down onto the pillow, and wrapped his arms around Bofur, placing his head on the toymaker's chest. Bofur chuckled again, feeling like their roles were suddenly switched, but as he let his hands trail through his hair, and over his shoulders, it felt right, and he listened to Thorin's breathing slow, and smooth, as he fell asleep on him. Bofur smiled, and closed his eyes, taking in the moment, and drifting on to sleep himself.
...
When Bofur awoke, Thorin was not with him. The sun was shining brightly and the room was lit. He looked over and saw his clothes folded neatly on the dresser, with his hat beside them. He got out of bed quickly, and changed, wondering what time it was and how long he'd been missing from the company. Bifur and Bombur would surely be wondering. As he left, he remembered his carving, and knife. He found them sitting on the table by the door.
He walked slowly, whistling to himself, and slowly carving bit by bit of the wood. Finally, he turned a corner, and he was in the large room they had been in before, with the fire of elven furniature blazing anew and most of the company present, with the exception of Balin, Dwalin, and of course Thorin.
"There you are!" He heard Bombur yelled, and he looked up from his carving and smiled. "Where have you been, cousin? You've nearly miss breakfast!"
"Around." Bofur answered simply, sinking down onto a pillow beside Bifur. He tried to pretend he didn't notice his older cousin's stare, but it was there. Finally he tilted his head toward Bofur, making the toymaker look up. He signed 'how are you?', but it was a normal way for Bifur to ask 'are you alright?'. Bofur nodded to him: "I'm fine, Bifur."
"What's that?" He heard Bombur ask. He turned to look at his cousin to see him pointing towards his shoulder. He looked down to see a large rip in his coat, surely caused from the fall the night before. Bofur reached up and touched the ripped fabric but then waved it off.
"It's nothing. I took a little tumble last night and it probably ripped then."
"Not that." Bombur said, waddling up to him in normal way, "That." He reached out and poked the sore skin between his neck and shoulder. Bofur's whole body went cold, and he had to remind himself to breath. He reached up and rubbed it and shook his head.
"Must have happened when I fell..." He said quickly, but when he looked up at his cousins, their faces did not look convinced, and even though everything inside him said not to, he allowed a smile to creep onto his lips.