This idea came to me when I was out recycling my bottles and cans. Odd, right? Well, I think it's gonna be good. Let's see what you think. Enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not own Starbucks, it's merely making an appearance!
"Mind me asking what the occasion is?" a short, stocky man asked Thorin as he measured his shoulder width, which Thorin had made quite easy for him and had tied his long hair up in the back.
The taller man shook his head. "A wedding," he answered.
The short man nodded. "Been to a few of those myself. Not very fun." He shifted to measure Thorin's torso. "The last one I attended, I fell asleep during the reception."
Thorin chuckled.
Jotting down a few numbers on a little book tucked underneath his arm, the short man then measured Thorin's height. With a bright smile upon his rosy face, he stepped back and motioned for Thorin to step off the platform. He turned to fetch a few different materials that were atrocious to Thorin's eyes. The stocky man held them out to Thorin who winced slightly at the disgusting colors. "Which one do you prefer?"
"Uh," Thorin began, "do you have anything dark? Like a dark blue?"
The short man cocked his head to the side as he thought about the selections in the back of the tailor shop. Nodding, he quickly retrieved luscious navy blue fabric and held it out so the taller man could inspect it.
Thorin took the fabric and held it in his large hands. It seemed reasonably soft and thick. He knew a certain person would much appreciate it, though he hadn't gotten around to asking him to attend the wedding with him yet. With a slight nod, Thorin handed the material back to the tailor who scribbled a few numbers in the little book.
"So," the tailor began, placing the piece of material down on the table and retrieving a box of ties. "Whose wedding?"
"My sister's," Thorin answered and the tailor nodded. "She wants all the groomsmen to wear suits, and I'm glad to say that it was a very good choice."
"Not a fan of tuxedos?" the tailor asked setting the box down on the table.
"No," Thorin said. "They do not... flatter me."
"I see," the other man replied, nodding his head. "Have a date?"
Thorin cleared his throat nervously.
"Not quite?" the tailor offered and Thorin smiled.
"Yes," he said. "I have not gotten around to it yet. I still need to find the right time."
"It's a wedding," the tailor said. "It's not like your asking them out on a date." The tailor chuckled but then slowed to a stop when he saw Thorin's face. "A date?"
Thorin nodded. "I know I should do it soon, but..."
"But you don't know when because she might think the wedding is an excuse to start dating," the other man finished.
The taller man glared at him. "Yes, and he'll want no part of me if I do that."
The tailor choked on his breath. "Oh, sorry... I didn't..." Turning away from Thorin's gaze, the tailor set out a few ties on the table. "Uh, which one do you like?" he asked nervously.
Thorin came to stand by the table. He thoroughly searched through every tie in the box, deciding which tie his hopefully-soon-to-be-boyfriend would love. Carefully lifting each one out of the box, he studied them intently as if the right one would pop out and say, "I'm here!". The tailor stood off to the side, allowing Thorin to take his time and not feel pressured to choose. He had assumed Thorin was straight and would ask a lovely woman out, but when the taller man had corrected him, he felt awful for assuming such a thing. Now as he watched Thorin decide on a tie, he couldn't help but feel guilty for offending him. Thorin, on the other hand, was entirely focused on choosing the perfect tie for his perfect love. He had examined all the ties and had decided on three different ties. From those three, he would choose the proper one. After thinking for some time and imagining Bilbo's face when the younger man saw them, Thorin picked up a glossy light grey tie with little flecks of green, red, and light blue. He thought Bilbo would love it as it reminded Thorin of the young man. Turning his attention to the tailor, Thorin held the tie out to him.
"This one?" the tailor asked.
Thorin nodded.
"Very well," the short man walked to the front of the shop and tallied the numbers in his book. "Over here," he called, seeing Thorin still standing by the table. He was punching numbers into the calculator when Thorin stopped in front of the counter, his hair slightly coming undone from the loose tie. "Your total is $764.32," the tailor told Thorin who appeared to be unmoved by the price. Shaking his head, the tailor handed Thorin a card. "Please, write down your name and phone number so I can reach you once your suit is done."
The tall man nodded and scribbled his name and cell number on the card.
"Thank you," the tailor said, sliding the card in the little book. "You can either pay now or wait until you receive your suit."
"I shall pay now," Thorin answered, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. "You said it was $764.32, yes?"
"Yes."
Thorin drew out the exact amount from his wallet. "I normally do not have the exact change, but it turns out I am in luck. Here," he said, handing the exact amount of money to the gaping tailor who had never seen anyone simply pull that much money from their wallet. "I take it not many people do this?" he asked, chuckling at the other man's face.
The tailor shook his head, too speechless to talk. He took the money gratefully and counted it to assure himself that he wasn't dreaming. Once he convinced himself that Thorin had handed him seven hundred sixty-four dollars, he generated a receipt and pointed to where Thorin would sign. "Thank you," he said, once the other man drew his signature out on the paper. He did some little hand movements to the register before handing Thorin a receipt of his own, and he nodded in return.
"Thank you." Thorin smiled and turned to exit the shop when the tailor apologized for the wrongful accusation he made earlier. Thorin faced him and smiled. "It is fine," he assured the worried man. "You are certainly not the first to think that."
The tailor nodded and bid him goodbye but not before adding another comment. "Good luck with your date."
Thorin smiled and said, "I shall need it." And with that, Thorin exited the shop and walked to his sleek black coupe in front of the tiny department.
Meanwhile, Bilbo Baggins sat by the fireplace at Bofur's home. He gingerly sipped at the cup of tea he held in his hands. The tea tasted foul, but Bilbo wasn't going to bring down his friend's high hopes of serving his guests. Bilbo had arrived there the day before with an uneasy feeling to him. Bofur had explained to him that that certain feeling always accompanied the feeling of love. But the younger man wasn't exactly sure how he could fall in love with a highly sophisticated and highly respected company owner. He had run into Thorin only a few times at the company's building.
Thorin Oakenshield owned Arkenstone Mutual, a company designed to help those in debt, and Bilbo was only a Starbucks Coffee employee who was paid to do literal coffee runs throughout the building. He did a few runs a couple of times last month and had gotten paid well. Though he didn't like doing coffee runs (with dodging the people who didn't bother to watch where they were going, the pace of time to not disturb anyone's meeting, or to time it perfectly to get the desired amount of money), he wouldn't pass up the offer because those people knew how to tip, and Bilbo was running low on money.
One day, he had two carriers in each of his hands and had to deliver them to a Balin and a Dori on the top floor. He had a hard time maneuvering his way through the busy building. Twice he nearly got knocked over and had to stop walking to recover his balance. A cosmopolitan-looking man narrowly missed hitting Bilbo in the shoulder as he swiftly strode past, yapping on his cell phone. Bilbo had managed to climb in and out of the elevators with no problem until he came to the second-to-the-top floor. Here, a meeting was just letting out, and the coffee runner had to weave his way past the obnoxious employees. Soon, the elevator came into view and Bilbo had dashed for it just as it was opening. He squeaked and stopped just in time to avoid running right into a neatly dressed man that was exiting. The man, however, did not see him and had collided with Bilbo; his chest hitting the poor worker squarely in the face. Bilbo felt himself lose his balance and imagined the coffee landing on the man in front of him.
"I am so sorry," the tall man said in a deep voice, reaching out to steady Bilbo as he nearly fell flat on his bottom. "Are you alright?"
It had taken Bilbo a few seconds to realize that the man was talking to him. "Oh, what? Yes," he answered. "I'm fine."
"It is my fault, I was not watching where I was going." The man let go of Bilbo's arms, seeing that the younger man was steady. "You are sure I did not hurt you?"
Bilbo nodded, a confused look on his face. This man was... nice, unlike the others who carelessly brushed passed him.
"Where are you going?" the man asked, noticing the carriers in the other man's hands.
"Uh, coffee run. Upstairs," Bilbo answered in a jumbled manner. He had no idea why he was acting the way. "I have to give these to a..." he trailed, setting the two carriers on the floor and pulling out his book. "To a Balin and a Dori," he finished.
"Oh," the man replied. "I can take you to them, if you would like?" he offered.
"That's hardly necessary, I... I can find my way," Bilbo stammered, picking up the carriers again. "I don't want to disturb your meetings or... business anymore than I already have," he said confidently. He watched as the older man ran a hand through his silver-streaked black hair, which was hanging loosely over his shoulders.
"Please, it is the least I can do for running into you like that." The man looked at Bilbo and smiled. "Yes?"
Bilbo nodded; he wasn't going to turn down this well-dressed, actually-nice, sophisticated man.
The taller man nodded and pressed the button for the elevator. He smiled kindly at Bilbo who was trying to focus on the carriers in his hands. "What is your name?" the man asked.
"Bilbo Baggins," he said, stepping into the elevator as it opened. "Yours?"
The older man inclined his head. "Thorin Oakenshield." He pressed the button for the top story of the building. The elevator dinged and its doors shut.
Bilbo felt his mouth run dry and his knees go weak. "You... you... you own Arkenstone Mutual, don't you?"
He nodded and looked over at Bilbo. He smiled when the young man stared at him.
"I am so, so sorry I ran into you," Bilbo said. "I should have... I could have found my own way..."
The elevator stopped and Thorin walked out with Bilbo following him. "Do not apologize. I am not sorry I ran into you. You are very different from those I work with. Besides, it is the least I can do for not watching where I was going," Thorin assured him as he knocked on a glossy black door. A muffled shout was heard from inside and Bilbo was glad Thorin was there; he wouldn't be able to handle angry customers, again. The door was flung open by an overly tattooed man dressed in a neat suit. Curious what kind of people work here.
"Wha- Thorin," the tattooed man exclaimed. "What brings you up here? I thought it was your day off?"
Bilbo felt his stomach drop. Day off?! I have ruined this man's day off?! he thought. He glanced over at Thorin who was explaining that a Starbucks-Coffee-boy was here.
The tattooed man looked around Thorin and smiled at Bilbo. "Oh, this is for Balin and Dori, yes?" he asked and Bilbo nodded. "How much?"
"It has already been paid for," Thorin's deep voice answered.
Bilbo looked taken aback and before he could ask Thorin why, the tattooed man gave him an enormous tip. "Thank you," he managed before the door closed. Bilbo remembered the way Thorin had smiled warmly at him and had walked him out of the building. Bilbo had thanked him again and Thorin had inclined his head respectfully. A few times after that incident, he had seen Thorin around the building, more often than he had ever remembered. He seemed to pass him down the halls nearly every time he did a run. He couldn't help but smile at how the most important man at Arkenstone Mutual remembered his name. He tried not to believe that Thorin was wanting to get his attention. Just that day too, Thorin had held the door open for him as he exited the building. Bilbo had thanked him and Thorin had seemed to stutter at the encounter. Bilbo had only assumed it was only because a woman was approaching him from afar. He believed Thorin was straight, though it pained him to think that but he knew Thorin would never fall in love with someone like him.
Now, Bilbo had finished that ghastly cup of tea. He bid Bofur his thanks and goodnight and began walking home. He had not been walking for twenty feet when his phone rang.
"Hello?" he asked into the phone.
"Bilbo," the voice on the other end said. It sounded anxious.
"Who is this?" Bilbo asked.
"Blake," the voice answered.
"What is it?" Bilbo asked. Blake was a coworker from Starbucks, both he and Bilbo did coffee runs inside big businesses.
"Um," Blake started, "I don't know how to tell you this but, we've been laid off."
Bilbo stopped walking and wanted to throw the phone across the street. "WHAT?!" he nearly shouted into the receiver.
"Yeah, the boss let me go today and he said he'd let you go tomorrow."
"This cannot be happening," Bilbo said, mostly to himself. He sighed heavily, now he was really tight on money. "Thanks for calling," he said. "I'll talk to you later." He hung up the phone and continued walking. No job, no money. To be honest, that wasn't the thought that plagued his mind. He sighed again.
"No more seeing Thorin," he said quietly.