"We should get a cat," Bilbo states simply as he lazily folds his hands under his head.
"What?" Thorin asks with a start. "You try to spring something like that on me when I'm in such a state."
Bilbo chuckles softly. "That was the plan."
"Why?" Thorin frowns pulling the blankets over his naked form.
"I've been working at the shelter for quite some time and there are some animals that never get adopted. I can't imagine what it would be like to live my entire life in a cage. It can't be nice," Bilbo finishes sadly. He rolls onto his side to face Thorin.
Thorin does not look over at Bilbo when Bilbo runs his fingers over the taunt muscles of Thorin's stomach, muscles that jump under Bilbo's tender, teasing touch.
Thorin sighs contentedly, stretching. "Why now though?"
Bilbo exhales heavily. "I just can't stop thinking about you leaving in 9 days to be gone for god knows how long. Our house is so quiet when you are gone, I can hardly stand it. I would like company while you're away on these missions. Sitting here by myself just lets me worry way more than I should."
Thorin wraps his arms around Bilbo pulling the much smaller man to his chest. "I'm sorry," he says running his fingers through Bilbo's light brown, curly hair. "I could see about a desk job. I've been with the agency for long enough. I hate thinking about you sitting here alone and worrying."
"No. I don't want you to do that." Bilbo cards his fingers through Thorin's dark chest hair. "You would hate sitting at a desk all day. Remember that time that they had you on an office job after your gunshot wound. You were always grumpy. You were always angry . . ." Bilbo nestles his face into Thorin's chest. "I don't think I could handle that again."
Thorin snorts lightly, his free hand automatically going to leg where the scar tissue from the gunshot wound has started to fade from the violent purple that it had been. "I apologized for that."
"I know you did," Bilbo says gently, winding his leg through Thorin's. "I'm not asking you to apologize again. I am asking you if we can get a cat to keep me company."
Thorin tilts his head back, staring at the off ceiling that is tinted green by the sunlight coming through the gauzy, leafy curtains that Bilbo had picked out when they had moved into this new home in the suburbs. He absently rubs Bilbo's bare back, relishing the smooth skin under his fingers. "Why a cat though? Why not a dog? A dog might be better company."
"Yes, but . . ." Bilbo trails off, humming in pleasure from the back robs that Thorin was giving him.
Thorin smiles lazily. Smug and pleased that simple back rubs provided Bilbo with pleasure. "But what?" he encourages gently.
Bilbo hums again before answering. "There are days that I'm just not to going out. A dog would demand a constant attention that I'm not able to give. Some days all I want to do is curl up in the carriage house with a good book and a cup of tea. A cat would be much more conducive to that life style," Bilbo explains. "Also, a cat would be less disruptive to you. And your sister and nephews could take care of a cat if we go one trips."
"Alright." Thorin shifts so that he is face-to-face with Bilbo. "I think it's a good idea. I look forward to meeting the kitten you bring home."
Thorin interrupts Bilbo's wide smile with a kiss that only grows more passionate as Thorin rolls to cover Bilbo with his body.
"You're late," Bofur accuses without looking up from the crossword puzzle he is doing when Bilbo walks through the door of animal shelter.
"Ah, well, yes," Bilbo stutters, straightening his coat as a blush creeps up his neck.
Bofur looks up from the paper at Bilbo's reaction. Bofur raises an eyebrows and his mouth twists into a mock disapproving expression, "Really? Again? On a Thursday morning? Can't you wait until the weekend?"
"Sometimes these things just happen," Bilbo says stuffing his bag into the locker. "If you ever went out with anyone then you would know that."
Bofur snorts. "Yeah, just like all those people that show up in the ER and say they just slipped and fell on a dildo the size of my arm." Bofur waves his arm in Bilbo's direction for emphasis.
Bilbo wipes his hands on his khakis. "How are the animals," he asks changing the topic.
"They seem fine. Fine except for that orange asshole." Bofur turns back to his crossword.
"He won't be much a problem anymore?"
Bofur frowns in a question.
"I'm going to adopt him. Can you get the papers out?"
"Really? Why that one? There's that little black one that got brought in yesterday. No one's even seen her yet. As soon as they do, she'll be gone. Why don't you take her home? She seems sweet."
"Exactly," Bilbo says as he hops over the counter to reach the door to the back and the kennels. "She'll have a home almost immediately. The tabby has been here for months. He's a few years old; he'll probably never get adopted unless I do it."
"What does Thor have to say about all of this?" Bofur asks, searching for another way to convince Bilbo to adopt a different cat.
"He is okay with it – have you let them out and cleaned the kennels yet? – I told him I wanted something to keep me company while he's gone on his missions."
"Nah," Bofur says, flicking the page of the newspaper over.
"What do they even pay you for?"
"To look pretty, and provide stimulating conversation for you as you do all the work," Bofur says nonchalantly.
"Ass," Bilbo grumbles fondly.
"You know you love me," Bofur says with a cheeky grin.
Bilbo rolls his eyes before disappearing into the backroom.
"Hey there." Bilbo hands out a few treats to the eager dogs as he opens their kennels and lets them out into the back yards where they can get some exercise.
Bilbo smiles when he sees the orange tabby curled up in the back corner of his cage. "You get to go home today," Bilbo sticks his finger through the cage door to rub at the cat's paw. The cat yawns lazily, pulling its paw away from Bilbo's questing finger. The cat blinks it's large amber eyes slowly, it's eyes narrowing when it sees Bilbo peering through the bars of the cage.
Bilbo is grabbing his bag from the locker, juggling it along with the pet carrier. The cat is making displeased noises from inside.
"I can still get rid of the adoption papers," Bofur offers from his positon by the door. He swings the keys around his finger. "You can always take little blackie home."
"And what?" Bilbo turns, upsetting the cat once more. "Dash this one's hopes?"
"It's a cat."
"And I like this one," Bilbo says firmly, managing to pull his jacket on without dropping the pet carrier. He had charged Thorin with obtaining some essential supplies for the cat; food, a bed, toys, and some other things.
"Each to their own," Bofur shrugs. "I don't want you bringing him back. I won't let you." Bofur holds the door open for Bilbo and locks it behind them. "I just hope he's better behaved for you at home than he is here. 'Cause if not I feel sorry for you and Thorin."
"We'll be fine."
Bilbo buckles the carrier into the back seat of his car, and with a final wave to his friend and co-worker, he is taking the cat home.
Once Bilbo and the cat are home he lets the animal out and places a bowl of water on the floor before starting dinner. He can hear the animal moving around, knocking books over and just generally investigating. When the house goes silent once more, he walks through the house to locate the animal, just to check.
Bilbo hears Thorin entering the house before he sees him. He can hear Thorin dropping his bags right inside the door and kicking off his shoes. Thorin is stripping off his suit jacket as he walks into the living room. He even starts to unbutton his white shirt.
"I got the stuff from you list," Thorin gestures in the direction of the door. He glances around before asking, "Did you get the kitten?"
Bilbo nods, not caring to correct Thorin. He will see soon enough that the tabby is not a kitten.
"Do you know where it is?" Thorin asks, trying to get his finger into the thick soup that is bubbling pleasantly on the stove.
Bilbo smacks Thorin's hand away from the pot. "I think he was sleeping in the library last I saw him," Bilbo says, gesturing in the direction of their well-lit library with its skylights.
Thorin almost does not see that cat at first. It is curled up on the red and orange afghan that is draped over Bilbo's chair. He smiles; of course Bilbo would get this cat, wild and untamed as it looks. Bilbo always was fond of the rougher things in life. Thorin knows that he is a prime example of that. He has never been well polished, if he was, he would not be working for the government with these dangerous missions that they send him on.
"Hey there, puss." Thorin reaches out to stroke the orange cat's extensive mane.
"FUCK!" He swears snatching his hand away, stumbling, and falling over the footstool. He lands heavily on his back. "Fuck," he swears more quietly, glaring over at the cat.
"Thorin, what happens?" Bilbo half-shouts appearing in the doorway in a moment.
Thorin holds up his bleeding thumb before sticking it back in his mouth and pointing at the cat. "What's this assholes name," Thorin snarls as he nurses his profusely bleeding thumb.
"His name is Smaug."