For as long as he could remember, Kili had desired his uncle.
For years, it wasn't in a sexual way. He was only a dwarfling. But he knew that he wanted to be near Thorin—to leap into his strong arms and breathe him in when he came home smelling of the forge or of the hunt. He wanted to be the center of his uncle's attention, to have those piercing eyes turned his way. He loved the feel of that strong chest behind him as Thorin taught him how to properly hold a bow. He trembled when Thorin's breath ghosted across his neck.
As he grew older, those feelings of safety and comfort turned into something else entirely. He found himself watching Thorin's hands as he'd use a whetstone to sharpen his swords, wondering what those hands would feel like running along his own naked hips, squeezing his bottom as Thorin held him possessively close in his bedchamber. Kili wanted to bury his face in Thorin's beard and his hands in his hair while he sat, legs splayed facing his uncle, on his lap and crush their mouths together, drawing Thorin's lower lip into his mouth and grinding their hips together.
He wanted to remind Thorin that, despite the fact that he was a king, he was deserving of a normal, loving relationship. Kili would assure him with small kisses peppering his face and hands kneading his chest, until Thorin's passion ignited and he hefted Kili, whose legs were wrapped around his waist, and lowered him into a waiting pile of furs and leathers. Thorin would undress him, not leaving an inch of his body unnoticed or untouched by his mouth.
Kili would kneel before his king, worshipping his uncle's cock with his mouth until it was as red as a poker in a forge. Hands on Thorin's powerful thighs, he'd coax Thorin down onto his back and straddle his hips, sinking down onto that shaft, and ride him with abandon until they were both sated, sweating and panting.
Thorin would cling to him, showing a softness and vulnerability he showed no one else, because Thorin was his One.
For as long as he could remember, Thorin had lusted after his sister's son, Fili.
Fili's father, Nar, had always been too fair of hair and skin. He took criticism and open jibes from the other dwarves because of it. But Dis, Thorin's sister, found him irresistible. Her heart was broken when she lost him. Thorin, too, had found Nar uniquely handsome—but he found his oldest nephew, Fili, absolutely enthralling.
Fili had a ready smile, deep dimples and an easy-going manner about him, yet he was a fierce warrior, especially when the family honor was at stake. When they practiced maneuvers, Fili would wear a sleeveless tunic and Thorin was often so absorbed with watching the flexing of Fili's upper arms and the deft way his hands manipulated the hilts of his swords to teach him properly.
Fili was lithe and lean, with a golden, perfectly-tousled mane, fawn colored eyes, and miles of fair, freckled skin. Thorin longed to get his nephew alone, perhaps in the stable where they kept their ponies, and explore every inch of his agile, young body at his leisure.
He'd begin by twisting the soft, long curling tendrils at Fili's temples, then he'd kiss and nibble the side of his neck, pulling on Fili's braids, positioning Fili to his whim. Fili would raise his hands to touch Thorin, but Thorin would insistently spin him around to face the wall of one of the stalls, bending him over a manger of sweet-smelling straw. With a hand on the back of Fili's neck, he'd hold him in that position interminably, until Fili couldn't help but wriggle against him—and his growing hardness—keening with need.
He'd place his hands over Fili's, instructing him to hold onto the manger and not let go. Then he'd peel Fili's leather pants down over the perfect globes of his pale backside. He'd knead and separate his ass cheeks, exhaling his warm breath over a place no other had ever dared. Using his tongue, savoring the sweet tang, he'd work the blonde open until he was quivering and begging for something more substantial.
And Thorin would surely oblige, lining up his cock and surging into Fili, one hand pulling his head back for a tooth clashing kiss and the other reaching around front to properly pleasure his favored prince. Together they'd undulate, thrilled by the knowledge that they could be discovered at any moment.
Afterwards, he'd pull Fili down next to him in the crinkling straw and they'd talk about the day when they'd both wear crowns. Thorin was convinced that Fili was his One.
For as long as he could remember, Fili only had eyes for his brother.
Even as a dwarfling, Kili was sensitive to the needs of all creatures. Once, when his uncle had accidentally run over a rabbit with his wagon, Kili had wept silently and held the poor creature as it expired. From that day on, Fili found himself in love with his brother.
Kili was the emotional one; his deep, dark eyes always brooding and staring moodily into fires. He cried hard, but he laughed just as easily, especially at Fili's antics. Fili loved nothing more than to study the dark stubbled line of his brother's throat when he'd thrown back his head in raucous laughter. He longed to ease Kili onto his back and lick along that neck, then silence his brother's laughter with a searing kiss.
Nothing highlighted his brother's beauty more than firelight. He'd take Kili camping in the woods, far from everyone else. He'd bring along sweet berries and cream. After dinner, he'd slowly ease his sated brother down onto his back on his bedroll. Slowly, he'd divest him of his leathers and furs, trailing butterfly kisses over each revealed expanse of golden skin.
When they were both naked, he'd bury his face in the depths of Kili's shining hair and inhale deeply the clinging smell of the woods, of balsam, and of grass. He'd kiss Kili's forehead, cheekbones, and finally his lips, caressing the planes of his brother's taut stomach with his free hand. Slowly, he'd inch that hand downwards and close it firmly on Kili's manhood. His brother would buck up into his grasp, breathing his name like mantra.
Fili would take up the berries and cream, smearing it carefully around his brother's most private area and take his time enjoying his dessert as Kili came undone beneath him, hands grasping at his braids. With two fingers, then three he'd stretch and curl Kili open, teasing his sweet spot and making Kili cry out again and again in pleasure. At last, he'd sink into his brother's heat, slotting his body closely on top of him, a curtain of golden hair surrounding Kili's face as Fili fucked him slowly, their eyes locked until Fili could hold off no longer, his hips stuttering as he held his brother tightly in his release, forehead to forehead.
Kili would climax, laughing in delight at his new-found pleasure, and Fili would smile warmly, cleaning his brother with a warm, wet cloth before snuggling down with him before the fire. Fili couldn't wait for the day when he was brave enough to tell Kili that he was his One.