Bilbo loved watching his husband work out. Every chance he got, when he could be spared from his diplomatic duties, he made his way to the training grounds to watch Dwalin work out. The way his muscles rippled as he stretched, the way the sweat beaded and rolled down his skin – it was enough to tempt even the most stoic of hobbits.

But the one thing he loved more than watching was helping.

Sometimes he found Dwalin at the beginning of his exercises, and once the dwarf caught sight of him he would beckon his husband closer with a grin. On the not-as-fun days they would work on Bilbo's swordsmanship, practicing until the poor hobbit was ready to collapse. Of course, his husband would obligingly carry him back to their quarters – the highlight of his evenings, for sure. Other times, like this morning, Bilbo would be allowed near as Dwalin worked on strengthening his muscles.

. . .

Bilbo reclined on the grass of the training ground, utterly uncaring of any stain he might gain in favor of the sight of his husband moving above him as he did push-ups. "49," Bilbo counted, admiring the muscles heaving in Dwalin's shoulders as he moved again. "50." And when Dwalin next went down, Bilbo stretched his neck up to meet him in a kiss.

Dwalin paused, halfway finished with his workout. A bead of sweat trailed down his forehead to the tip of his nose, hung for a moment, and then dropped onto Bilbo's cheek. He smirked as his husband's adorable little nose scrunched. "Gross," Bilbo muttered.

"You love it," Dwalin chuckled.

"I endure it," Bilbo corrected.

"You love me," Dwalin countered.

Bilbo sighed in mock exasperation. "Yes, I suppose I do." Then he reached up to grab the sides of Dwalin's beard, yanking him down for a deeper kiss. He enjoyed feeling the strain of the dwarf's muscles struggling to support his body so he wouldn't crush the hobbit. Eventually, though, he took pity and released the dwarf. "That was 51, love," he reminded him.

Dwalin hung his head for a moment, almost touching Bilbo's collar, before looking at his husband. "You'll be the death of me one day," he growled, though there was no real heat behind his words.

"But you love me," Bilbo replied innocently with a cheeky grin. Dwalin snorted before continuing with his training.

Over the course of the rest of his workout, it seemed to Dwalin the hobbit had taken his words as a challenge. The hands he had kept tucked under his head before now roamed freely over his skin in the most distracting manners. Not to mention his kisses, which were distracting enough, but were progressively growing worse as he went on. And he could barely look his husband in the eye or the lustful gazes Bilbo was sending him would surely end him then and there.

"98." Bilbo's legs bent underneath him, moving to bracket his body between them.

"99." His small hands slid slowly up his arms to clasp at the back of his neck.

"100." Bilbo arched up, connecting their mouths in their deepest kiss yet.

Dwalin grinned and then, without warning, dropped as much of his weight as he dared onto his husband. They flopped together onto the ground, lips separating, and Bilbo let out a quick "oof" as all of the air was forced out of his lungs by the heavy dwarf body on top of his. Dwalin chuckled as he watched his husband flail underneath him and smack harmlessly at his sides, complaining all the while.

Finally he relented, propping himself up on his elbows and knees so his poor hobbit could take a proper breath. Bilbo eyed the satisfied smirk on his husband's face as he caught his breath. "Oh, don't act so smug, you great lump," Bilbo scowled.

Dwalin chuckled, leaning down for a quick kiss on Bilbo's cheek as he turned his head to pout. "Then don't be such a tease," he retorted.

"I can't help it," Bilbo replied, grinning now as he regarded his husband from the side. "Your muscles are so…distracting." His hands traveled once again up Dwalin's muscled arms and down his back. Bilbo inclined his head up as Dwalin's moved down and they met in the middle, lips sliding sensuously against one another as they kissed. Dwalin tangled his fingers in his hobbit's curly hair, angling his head for a deeper kiss, when they heard a cough.

They took their time separating before both glancing to the entrance to see who had interrupted them. Fíli and Kíli stared back unamused. "You know, last I checked these were designated public training grounds," Kíli remarked wryly.

Dwalin scoffed, heaving himself up to kneel above his husband. "I've caught you both in worse, so don't even start," he retorted, standing fully and helping Bilbo up. Both brothers flushed slightly.

Kíli coughed. "Yes, well, uh…Bilbo, I think Uncle was looking for you after breakfast. Something about the elven delegation coming soon."

Bilbo sighed and brushed off his clothes, not that it particularly helped. "I suppose I should go find him." He glanced down at himself. "Perhaps after a bath."

"Probably for the best," Fíli agreed. Kíli nodded.

Bilbo scowled at the two and then grabbed at his husband, pulling him down for a kiss and enjoying the boys' groans and complaints. "Don't go easy on them today," he told him as he pulled away. Their spluttering went completely ignored, but he didn't miss the mischievous grin on his dwarf's face as he walked off the field.

This was also published before on AO3 under the same username, so if you've seen it there don't worry, I'm the same author. I'm just posting this here because there's not enough Dwilbo on this site, which is tragic.