Warning: Bagginshield fluff. Shut up.
=== DOOM ===
Thorin didn't sleep well. He just didn't. It had nothing to do with how uncomfortable the ground was or how cold it got. It was stress, and guilt, and mourning, and all the things that made Thorin wish he didn't have any emotions. Maybe that was why he was able to rest with the hobbit nearby, because Bilbo somehow chased those feelings away with a smile or a glance.
Mahal damn him.
Their interactions were strictly during the night, especially on those nights that Thorin couldn't sleep at all. When the rest of the company was asleep(or pretending to be).
Tonight was one of those nights. With Erebor so near, and the wounds of his battle with Azog the Pale Orc causing more pain than Thorin would admit to in a thousand years, the dwarf king was restless and unable to relax. It seemed that Master Baggins sensed this, because he pulled his bedroll up next to Thorin's and curled up without much more than a gentle 'goodnight'.
The king waited until he was certain Bilbo was asleep before pulling his own bedroll to the hobbit's so they touched and draped his fur coat over the both of them. Bilbo stirred but did not do much else as Thorin laid beside him.
He wasn't sure what possessed him to put an arm around Bilbo's waist and offer the other as an extra pillow for the hobbit. For such a lithe thing, Bilbo was surprisingly warm and soft. And as he curled up into Thorin's chest, he felt that heat rise up into his face.
Twirling Bilbo's soft, curly, golden hair between his callused fingers, Thorin felt himself settle into slumber slowly. He thought of how incredible this little creature was, having such an impact on him, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, King Under The Mountain. Dis would be laughing at him by now, going on about how much of a love-sick warg pup he was.
At that thought, Thorin frowned but continued to stroke Bilbo's locks carefully. He was not in love, no. Not in a million years. Never. Nope. Not going to happen.
He looked at Bilbo, his round face, slack with sleep, a tiny, sleepy smile creeped on his thin lips, and sighed.
Damn.
Well. That was going to ruin him, definitely.
Thorin buried his nose in Bilbo's hair and breathed in the scent of sweat and soap and something that he couldn't place as anything else but Bilbo. Giving the smallest of pecks on Bilbo's forehead, he closed his eyes and gave in to the nagging feeling of sleep.
=== DOOM ===
Super short fluff because lack of practice.
Happy Valentine's Day.