Hello folks!

This is the fourth part of my series "Something Wonderful".

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine!


Chapter 1

4 November 2007

Bilbo awakens in a cocoon of warmth.

His eyes take a couple of seconds to lose the haze of sleep and he squints to make out his surroundings in the surprisingly dark room. When he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table, it tells him that it is after nine already. A look out of the window brings him the reason for the lack of light. A blanket of heavy, deep hanging clouds is darkening the sky. Rain is threatening to fall every minute.

The small man stretches a little and the blanket covering him slips off his shoulder. He is not wearing a shirt and the cold of the room hits his warm naked skin immediately. Bilbo quickly yanks the duvet back up to cover his entire body, head and all. Fresh air is overrated anyway. Better warm and suffocating than cold and freezing to death. He might just stay in bed all day. The man lying next to him makes that thought even more appealing. In the darkness created by his makeshift tent Bilbo can just make out the sleeping form of his boyfriend. He smiles and lets his fingertips slowly caress the other man's hairy chest.

Bilbo giggles when he feels Thorin react to his touch with a sudden intake of air. Wondering whether this action has caused any change in Thorin's state of consciousness, he pokes his head out of his cave.

Nope, still asleep.

Thorin's long hair is spread around his head like a dark halo, his right arm is extended to Bilbo's side of the bed as if seeking out the warmth of a body that is no longer there. The curly-haired man smiles and lies down on his side, his head pillowed by Thorin's arm to watch his boyfriend sleep.

That keeps Bilbo entertained for about ten minutes before he gets mildly bored. There are definitely more productive ways to spend the morning.

He decides to check the state of affairs in Thorin's southern regions and lifts up the duvet to take a peek. Yep, definitely an interested party down there. Bilbo drops the blanket and slowly lets his hand wander down to the waistband of Thorin's pyjama bottoms. He runs his index finger along the line where skin meets cotton to see if that will result in a reaction. It doesn't.

He slips his hands inside and wraps it around Thorin's half hard member. The dark-haired man visibly relaxes at the touch. Bilbo grins. His thumb is now rubbing little circles around Thorin's glans and he can feel the flesh in his hand throbbing. His own prick seems to be enjoying his actions as well and demands attention. He sighs and lets his other hand glide into his boxers.

Bilbo now wonders how to proceed from there. He could wake Thorin up and demand a full session. But Thorin sometimes gets grumpy when you force him to wake up before he is ready even if sex is the outcome. Maybe a blowjob would put him in a more receptive mood. Bilbo is about to sit up and proceed with this plan when he is hit with the idea of getting Thorin to have sex with him without actually waking him up.

He studies Thorin's face for a while and tries to imagine the man's reaction when he finally does wake up only to find his cock up to the hilt in Bilbo's arse. The short man snorts and decides to give it a go. He is still pretty open from their activities last night so it doesn't take him long to prepare himself. While the fingers of one of his hands are inside of him, the other hand is still working on Thorin's now completely hard cock.

He has to let go eventually in order to sit up. He takes off his pyjama bottoms and boxers that are already wet with precum and drops them off the side of the bed. When he turns around to proceed with the next step, he finds, to his utter dismay, Thorin blinking up at him with hazy grey eyes.

Bilbo pouts. So much for his plans to ride Thorin in his sleep. The other man takes a couple of seconds to figure out what is going on. The almost painful throb in his crotch area is a dead give-away. Add to that Bilbo's flushed face - from arousal, not embarrassment - and Thorin quickly reaches the right conclusion. He narrows his eyes at his boyfriend and waits.

But the curly-haired man does not move and simply flops down onto the mattress to stare at the ceiling. His right hand slowly, very slowly inches towards his still hard cock to lazily stroke himself until Thorin decides to join in on the fun.

Thorin knows exactly what Bilbo is doing under the blanket and his own member goes even harder, if that is even possible. He watches for a couple of seconds and licks his lips in anticipation. Bilbo grins knowingly and starts pumping himself harder, his breathing getting more erratic as he works himself towards climax. Thorin's eyes widen slightly but he refuses to acknowledge his own arousal. Suddenly Bilbo's unoccupied hand darts out and grabs Thorin's member in a tight grip.

The dark-haired man lets out a surprised yelp and arches into the touch.

There are definitely worse things to wake up to.


Bilbo is peering into the pot of porridge on the stove when he notices Thorin, fresh out of the shower, trying to sneak into the kitchen to surprise him by wrapping his muscled arms around him. Bilbo pretends to not see him and keeps watching his breakfast with great interest. His lips pull up into a smile as Thorin hugs him from behind and presses a kiss to his still wet curls. The short man does not turn around though and only grunts in acknowledgement. He stirs his porridge as Thorin keeps kissing him.

The taller man quickly loses his patience and grabs Bilbo's waist to spin him around.

"When do we leave?" Thorin asks after finally succeeding in getting his boyfriend to kiss him properly.

They are heading over to Bilbo's parents for the weekly family dinner later today. Thorin has met Bungo and Belladonna of course but those meetings have always taken place at Bilbo's house or a restaurant on one occasion. But Belladonna has finally put her foot down and demanded that Thorin and Bilbo make the hour-long trip this weekend. Thorin is both excited and scared. He finally gets to see Bilbo's childhood home which the curly-haired man talks of with a spark in his eye. But "Bag End" as they fondly call the house that Bungo built for his future wife as a courting gift, is also home territory of Belladonna and Bungo. And they can be terrifying when they want to be. So far they have been lovely and treated Thorin as a second son. But they are massively fussy and protective of Bilbo and Thorin is certain that, if he ever dared to harm a single curl on Bilbo's head, they would hunt him down and murder him so viciously, that he would be dead twice. Bilbo is their only child after all.

The curly-haired man has similar resentments about Thorin going to his parents' house. Not because he fears for his boyfriend's safety but because he is scared of what will happen when his mother gets out the baby photos. He still has not managed to get rid of the one photo of him as a child that is already in Thorin's possession. The man carries it around in his bloody wallet like a trophy.

"We'll leave at two. Go make some toast!" Bilbo responds and feels Thorin grumble something into his hair before the taller man slowly makes his way over to the bread basket. Working the toaster is the only "cooking" Thorin is allowed to do in Bilbo's kitchen.

And he still manages to burn it.


At eleven minutes past two Bilbo starts the engine of his Volvo. He keeps glaring at the man sitting next to him as he backs the car out of the driveway. It is completely Thorin's fault that they are eleven minutes late. He should have stopped trying to have sex with Bilbo as he was preparing the pudding they were going to bring for dinner. Bilbo has to admit that, while the kitchen floor was not the most comfortable and not the most exotic place for sex, it was quite nice.

But it has made them late. And pudding will never taste the same again.

The man in the passenger seat is not sure what his love is visibly fuming about. He made Bilbo come. Twice! Thorin expected thankfulness but all he gets is a grumbling boyfriend who is driving a little more aggressively than is safe. And - oh god, now he is signing. Thorin should have gotten used to Bilbo's habit of taking his hands off the steering wheel to hold entire conversations by now. But it still gives him a heart attack and a mild aneurism every time it happens. Whenever the short man gets really talkative, he lifts up his knee to steady the steering wheel to prevent them from skidding into someone's sitting room or oncoming traffic while he is motioning away with his hands.

"I'm really mad at you," Bilbo signs without taking his eyes off the road.

Thorin can only shrug. He has learned to pick his battles and this is a battle he chooses not to take part in. Bilbo gets mad at the most peculiar things, like burnt toast or snails eating his salad plants or Thorin accidently rearranging the order (read: disorder) of the papers on his desk when the man tries to find the stapler in the hellhole that is Bilbo's study (and don't even get him started on pocket handkerchiefs), whereas the man stays completely calm when world war three breaks out around him, as in every time Thorin tries to babysit his two-year old nephew.

The curly-haired man huffs when he does not get a proper reaction from his boyfriend and demonstratively folds his arms across his chest because he knows Thorin will definitely react to that, now that they are going 70 miles an hour.

The dark-haired man only rolls his eyes and reaches over to hold on to the steering wheel while Bilbo is sulking. Luckily this road is not very curvy.

Bilbo relents eventually and takes over again, his scowl disappearing completely once Thorin's hands wanders to rest on his thigh for the rest of the drive. He even lets the other man turn on the radio after making Thorin beg to him and promise a reward.


Even before Bilbo can ring the doorbell, the green front door of Bag End swings open. Belladonna emerges from behind the door with her arms spread wide as if she wants to give her guests a big squishy hug. Both men try to dodge out of her way but there is no escaping. How she manages to put her arms around both Thorin and Bilbo is a mystery to remain unsolved. The taller of the two men releases an undignified squeak when he finds himself in the embrace of his boyfriend's mother while the shorter man is still trying to wriggle away. Belladonna, a plump woman of barely five feet pulls both of them inside and shuts the door behind them. Bilbo finally manages to escape his mother's grasp and put some distance between her and himself. The pudding he has been holding in his hands this whole time, is put down on the little hallway table before he starts pulling his coat and shoes off. The shoes are placed on the mat next to his father's, then he patiently waits for his boyfriend to pass him his coat. Thorin slowly gets his bearings back and mechanically unzips his jacket before handing it over.

"Thorin," Belladonna gasps from where she is standing behind him. "Have you lost weight?" She grabs his arms and spins him in a circle to get a good look at him. "Is he not feeding you?" she asks with a glance at her son, who is busy hanging up their coats five feet away. He frowns when he turns and sees his mother narrowing her eyes at him. Belladonna turns back to Thorin. "Don't worry, love, I'll get you back on track. All skin and bones you are." She pushes the tall man into her kitchen. Five different pots are sitting on the stove and there seems to be something baking in the oven. Belladonna is already rummaging through the fridge. "Dinner will be ready in about half an hour but grab some cheese until then. Can't have you starving." She hands Thorin a plate with crackers and little cheese cubes and pushes him into the living room where Bungo is setting the table for dinner.

"Look at him, Bungo!" Belladonna pulls on Thorin's arm to present him to her husband. "He's gotten all thin." Bungo looks up from where he is lighting the tall candles on the table and scrutinizes the man in front of him critically. Thorin almost crumbles under his intense gaze. "Your son's lost weight, too," Belladonna provides almost cheerfully. Her husband narrows his eyes and leans slightly forward to inspect Thorin even more closely. Then he nods. But before he can actually say anything, he sees his son approach them over his wife's shoulder.

Bilbo enters the room cautiously. He had not missed his mother's thunderous expression. Belladonna feels his presence behind her and pounces on him, grabbing his ear and pulling him into the kitchen to berate him for neglecting himself and, more importantly, Thorin.

"Why are you not eating properly?" she asks him but does not actually give Bilbo a chance to answer. "You've lost weight. So has Thorin. Are you having problems?" Her son shakes his head quickly and raises his hands to answer but Belladonna is faster. "You need to tell me when you are having problems." Her furious expression suddenly turns warm and caring. She cradles Bilbo's reddening cheek in her hand for a second. "We are here to help. You can always move back home if you need to." Bilbo shakes his head again. "No, thank you," he finally manages to respond. "I'm fine. We are fine." He can see his mother sigh and shake her head before she stares out of the kitchen window in thought. "Your father never wanted to let you leave. Maybe he was right," she signs when she turns back to look at her son.

Bilbo swallows when he sees the tears pool in his mother's eyes. Deep down he knows that she is just trying to make him feel bad. Neither of his parents had been thrilled when he announced that he was going to go off to university at the other end of the country. Although Belladonna always had been the adventurous type in her youth, she had trouble letting her son have his own adventure. Bilbo is her baby after all. Her only baby. Bungo had taken it even harder when his son left. He had never talked about it but his wife had often begged Bilbo to come home for a weekend to spend time with his dad just to save the man from his own grief. Bungo never understood Bilbo's need for adventure and bribed him into moving closer to home after graduating from university by buying his son his own little house.

"You could at least move closer to home," Belladonna goes on. "We barely ever see you." Her son gives her an unbelieving look. "I see you once a week. Isn't that enough?"

She chokes on a sob when he signs that and presses her hand to her lips. The tears that have accumulated in her brown eyes start to roll down her cheeks. Bilbo just stares at her. He wonders whether he should call his mother out on her farce or if he should just go with it and comfort her. He senses a presence behind him and finds Thorin and his father standing in the doorway to the dining room, Bungo is glaring at him accusingly while Thorin can only watch the scene play out with confusion written all over his face.

"What did you do?" Bungo questions his son accusingly. Bilbo only shrugs his shoulders and does not answer.

"You know not to upset your mother like that," his father goes on. "You know what she is capable of." Withholding food is one of Belladonna's favourite punishments.

"She's not even crying for real," Bilbo replies and glares at Belladonna for getting him in trouble. The short woman stops her sobbing for a second to poke her tongue out at him which Bungo conveniently does not see.

"You better apologise to your mother," Bungo tells his son. "And help her finish cooking."

Bilbo groans. "I'm not actually five years old!" He doesn't mind cooking but he does mind being ordered around like a bloody toddler.

"You will do the dishes, too, if you keep arguing," Bungo warns him with a pointed look to the sink. Bilbo huffs and folds his arms across his chest in silent protest.

Thorin has been watching this entire scene play out without really understanding what is going on. He cannot keep up with Bungo and Bilbo's well-practiced signing and is mostly wondering how his well-mannered boyfriend managed to make his mother cry.

Belladonna has ceased her sobbing by now and is currently telling her husband about their son's utter rudeness. Bilbo has resigned himself to his fate and is currently inspecting the various dishes simmering on the stove. Better let them think they have won this round.

Out of the corner of his eye he watches as his mother gently guides Thorin who was still hovering in the doorway, back into the dining room, Bungo following closely behind them.

"Here, Thorin, love, sit down." Belladonna pushes the tall man into a chair at the dining table and hands him a glass of red wine. "Did you enjoy the cheese?" Thorin can only nod while she fiddles with the flower arrangement sitting in the centre of the table. She smiles. "I knew you would. One of our neighbours makes it. Bilbo always begs me to bring him some when we go up to the city but I never do. He is capable of coming down here himself if he wants that cheese. He just doesn't visit enough." Belladonna sighs and then pads Thorin's shoulder.

The dark-haired man plops a leftover cheese cube in his mouth to have an excuse not to respond to that. He has a feeling that this was the topic of the disagreement in the kitchen and he is not ready to get involved. Thorin himself lost both of his parents recently and within three years and he thinks that Bilbo should count himself lucky to have parents that are still relatively young and healthy. But he also knows that visits with Belladonna and Bungo can be very demanding and he partly understands his boyfriend's reluctance to see his parents even more frequently than their weekly dinner arrangement. Bilbo is their only son after all and receives all the attention, whether he wants it or not. Although, recently that attention seems to have shifted to Thorin if Belladonna's fussing over his non-existent weight loss is anything to go by.

Bilbo emerges from the kitchen, a bowl with steaming vegetables in his hands. He places it on the table and then bends down to press his lips to Thorin's for a quick kiss before he storms off again. Belladonna coos as she watches them and then follows her son to help. They want to eat their dinner while it is still warm after all.

Once all the dishes have found their place on the table, Belladonna, Bilbo and Bungo, who seems to have disappeared after the little discussion earlier, finally sit down and make Thorin a little less uncomfortable about not helping prepare dinner. The dark-haired man is a little overwhelmed as he inspects the different bowls and plates for their content. He always thought Bilbo goes overboard when he cooks but this is just an entire new level. Are they supposed to stay here for an entire week with all the food that has been prepared? Or are there more people coming?

While Thorin is still debating what dish to eat first, Bungo starts telling him about the Baggins Bonfire Night tradition. Since Guy Fawkes Night is only one day away, they will have a little fire in the garden once it gets dark. But instead of burning a Guy Fawkes dummy the Baggins family turns Bonfire Night into a culinary event with marshmallows, jacket potatoes and stick bread. Thorin can only wonder how he will consume so much food in that short amount of time.

The rest of dinner is spent with questions directed at both Bilbo and Thorin, about their work and Bilbo's garden and Thorin's family. Belladonna and Bungo sign and speak at the same time, probably taking pity on Thorin who still gets easily frustrated and confused when the singing is too fast for him to understand. He recently moved up to the advanced sign language course and Bilbo and others keep telling him that he is making great progress but Thorin himself is highly sceptical. Pen and paper are still constant companions for more complex topics.

Thorin volunteers to clean up and while both Bungo and Belladonna try to argue with him about guest privileges, Bilbo pushes him into the kitchen quite readily and then closes the door behind them to keep his parents out of the room. In between washing dishes and stacking the pots back up in the cupboard, they exchange quite a few kisses and entirely enjoy the alone-time without Bilbo's parents constantly nagging them about something or other.

Afterwards Bilbo pulls on his coat to join his father outside in the garden. Thorin has no desire to stand around outside in the cold because he has no idea about bonfires and gardens in general and wouldn't be of much use to them anyway, and decides to stay in the sitting room, hoping that Belladonna might supply him with more baby photos.

Belladonna finds him standing at the window and goes into the kitchen to make tea.

Thorin watches as Bilbo and his father make their way around the garden. The two men are currently inspecting Bungo's rose bushes. The similarities between father and son are extraordinary. Bungo is several inches taller than Bilbo, although still considered short, but they share the same body stature and hair colour. The curls Bilbo could have gotten from either of his parents but the rest of his physical appearance is an exact copy of his father's, including the button-nose and the sparkling blue eyes.

Belladonna walks up beside Thorin and presses a hot cup of tea in his hands before following his gaze to her husband and son. Bungo is signing enthusiastically about one of his next projects with Bilbo interrupting him now and then to ask questions.

She smiles. Her husband seems to thrive whenever he gets a chance to have Bilbo all to himself. He misses his son more than anything in the world and has even brought up the suggestion of selling Bag End and moving closer to the city just so he can see his boy more often. So far, Belladonna had always been able to talk him out of it, knowing that Bilbo would eventually go mad if his parents showed up at his house every day. And she had to admit that she loved Bag End too much to leave it in the hands of some random stranger. Bungo had built this house for her after all. But should Bilbo decide to move further away again, she knows, there will be no holding Bungo.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the man next to him.

"They are close, aren't they?" He asks with a fond smile as Bilbo twirls around the garden like a clumsy ballerina to explain some elaborate garden design. Belladonna hums in agreement before taking a sip from her own tea mug.

"They always have been. I always thought Bilbo would turn out just as respectable and proper as his father with all the time they spent together when he was a child. Sometimes I wondered if Bungo hadn't secretly cloned Bilbo, they were so similar, both in looks and character. But then the Took genes took hold and Bilbo became quite the adventurer as a teenager." She laughs when she sees Thorin turn to her with raised eyebrows.

"Nothing bad but Bilbo liked to stay out late and explore. Not drugs, of course. He knew I would have killed him if he had even so much as glanced at a cigarette." Belladonna takes a deep breath. "Though, what I think really kept him away from doing anything improper, was the thought of his father being disappointed of him." She chuckles and fondly pats Thorin's arm. "I've got pictures of Bilbo's wild youth, of course. Do you still have that one photograph I sent you?"

Thorin of course knows which one she is talking about and nods. "In my wallet," he mumbles and traces the rim of his mug. Why is he suddenly embarrassed about carrying a picture of his boyfriend around with him? Okay, it is a picture of his boyfriend as a child but it shouldn't feel this awkward admitting it. Or should it? Maybe Belladonna now thinks him a lovesick teenager. Or a paedophile.

But the short woman next to him just laughs. "Well, make room for more. I made copies."

The next minute is spent in silence as they watch the two men outside discuss tomatoes and lettuce. Then Belladonna releases a sigh. "I'm so glad he found you," she whispers.

Thorin does not know how to respond to this revelation and awkwardly clears his throat before sipping on his tea. "I always worried about him." Belladonna shrugs. "Well, I still do. But I always wondered whether he would ever meet his special someone." Thorin frowns. Bilbo is twenty-five, not yet old enough to be worried about finding a suitable life partner before being damned to eternal loneliness.

"I met Bungo when I was nineteen," Belladonna goes on. Okay, well, she started early then. No need to project that onto other people. People take their time these days. Exploring the world and themselves before settling down.

"We tried to have a child for over ten years." Oh. Okay. Thorin shuffles his feet in discomfort. He does not notice the far-away gaze in Belladonna's eyes.

"Eventually we gave up. It just wasn't going to happen. It almost killed Bungo. His greatest wish had been a house full of children. Bag End has six guest room" A wry smile appears on her face. "I hadn't yet decided whether I wanted children or not but I went along with it. Because I wanted him to be happy."

Outside Bungo unlocks his garden shed and retrieves two pairs of gardening gloves, the joy of being with his son radiating from his entire body.

"But nothing happened. We gave up. We never talked about it but we both lost hope eventually. Neither of us had the guts to get tested, fearing that we would put the blame on each other or ourselves. Bungo became very quiet and withdrawn. And even I was devastated. I had slowly grown used to the idea of having children of my own, raising them here in the house their father had built for his future family. We barely talked. Sometimes I wondered whether this was going to ruin our relationship, destroy everything we had worked for. One night Bungo just broke down."

Belladonna lets her gaze wander for a bit before letting it fall on her husband. Bungo and Bilbo are now carrying chopped wood to their little fire pit. She takes a deep breath. "He cried all night long, telling me that I was the only thing keeping him in this world after having his future destroyed. Two months later I was pregnant." A heavy silence develops between them and Thorin is unsure whether he is supposed to say something.

"Of course it wasn't all perfect then. The pregnancy was rough. It still causes me pain thinking about it," she sighs and absently rubs her apron-covered belly. Thorin winces. A mother shouldn't have to feel pain when thinking about being pregnant with her only child.

"The little bugger gave me severe morning sickness. Sometimes I feared I would vomit him right up." She laughs. "Luckily I didn't. But it left me, and him, severely undernourished for a while. I had to stay in hospital for several months. Which left Bungo to go crazy about preparations. I swear, that man bought every toy and blanket available in a 200 mile radius. He repainted the nursery at least four times." Belladonna rolls her eyes and Thorin chuckles.

"After all that drama it was a surprise that Bilbo was born only six weeks early. We were so happy. We had a beautiful baby and each other and it was finally perfect." Thorin watches as the woman next to him wipes phantom tears off her cheeks. He knows this is not the end.

"And then we realised that something was off. You know, back then they didn't do hearing tests right after the birth. Bilbo had never been a fussy baby but then he almost stopped making noises entirely. He didn't react to our voices or the door banging. Bungo had made him a beautiful rattle with little bells, painted it and everything, but Bilbo completely ignored it. The end of the world that was for Bungo. He'd spent days making that thing. We took him to a doctor then. Boom. Completely deaf." Belladonna clutches her tea mug to her chest while letting the index finger of her free hand run along the window frame. Then she blinks and looks up at Thorin to smile at him reassuringly. The dark-haired man asks himself if he shouldn't be the one reassuring her.

"Big shock. I had never even met a deaf person before. But we managed somehow." She shrugs and her lips spread into a grin as she watches her son arrange the wood into a pyramid. "I think he turned out alright."

Thorin snorts and mumbles "More than alright" into his mug before taking a sip. Belladonna turns to face him, a mysterious glint in her eyes.

"So, have you talked about children yet?"

Thorin has no choice but to choke on his tea.

Once they are back in Bilbo's car, the shorter of the two men lets his head thud against the steering wheel and releases a groan. Thorin can only agree with his anguish. All of a sudden he feels like he needs a holiday. Preferably without Bilbo' parents. He will have to come up with an excuse to skip next Sunday's dinner because he cannot do this again. He cannot even bring himself to feel remorse for potentially lying to Bilbo and leaving him to deal with his parents all by himself. They are Bilbo's parents after all. He should be able to handle them. Thorin is not.

He currently feels like an overstuffed pig ready to explode any minute. And the smell from the packed-up left-overs in the backseat is not helping. At all. Maybe he should have asked for a plastic bag for the ride home.

Belladonna kept putting food in his hands all afternoon, whether he wanted it or not. And she made him eat it all. Thorin could only watch in horror as Bilbo happily consumed more than twenty roasted marshmallows and at least seven jacket potatoes at the bonfire without batting an eyelash. After consuming a perfectly filling dinner only an hour earlier.

Thorin wraps his arms around his midsection to calm down his stomach and keep himself from ruining the upholstery of Bilbo's car. He is sure that the curly-haired man would not appreciate him barfing up tonight's dinner all over the seats and dashboard. But then, Bilbo is actually a master in getting all sorts of stains out of different fabrics. Stomach acid with chunks of half digested food would most likely not be a challenge to him. But Thorin tries to keep the contents of his stomach from reappearing anyway.

Bilbo pats Thorin's arm to get his attention.

"You okay?"

The taller man shrugs. "Ate too much."

Bilbo finds that funny and giggles. Thorin is not amused that his love is laughing at him in his time of need but smiles anyway when the curly-haired man lifts his hand and tenderly strokes Thorin's cheek. Their gazes lock for a second and Bilbo leans forward and up for a light kiss to the other man's lips.

That does not help with Thorin's nausea but he feels slightly better nonetheless. Until he realises that the kiss was just meant as a distraction as he feels Bilbo's nimble fingers tug at the back pocket of Thorin's jeans where he keeps his wallet. The taller man tries to fight him and makes an attempt to grab the object and defend it with his life but the movement unsettles his stomach and he resigns himself to his fate.

Bilbo huffs and glares at the man sitting next to him as he pulls an entire stack of photos out of the not so small leather wallet. They all show Bilbo at different stages of youth. Him in the bathtub at age two, then on his fifth birthday surrounded by cake and balloons. There are even pictures from his adolescence.

Good grief. He better find a way to get his hands on some baby photos of Thorin.

Another glare in the man's direction will have to suffice for now. Reluctantly Bilbo stuffs the pictures back into the wallet, hoping that this will not be their final resting place, and hands it back to its respective owner.

Thorin rewards him with a kiss. As they part, Bilbo's gaze happens to fall on the house and he spots his mother and father hovering at the kitchen window, probably wondering why they haven't left yet.

The curly-haired man rolls his eyes in annoyance before turning the key in the ignition. The car roars to life, as much as a Volvo can roar anyway, and Bilbo backs out of the driveway while overenthusiastically waving at his parents. With both hands. How he manages to hit neither the neighbour's hedge nor Bungo's well-maintained garden fence is completely beyond Thorin.

Once they are on the road, Bilbo lifts up his knee to lean against the steering wheel and then turns to face Thorin.

"Did my mum ask you about potential grandchildren?"

The End

Continued in "Wonderful Christmas Gifts".


Note: My experience with deaf people and the Deaf culture is very limited (non-existent to be exact). This entire scenario is based on research, lots and lots of research. So if there is anyone out there that has more experience than me and finds something that doesn't make sense or is complete bollocks, please do not hesitate to contact me. I'm very motivated to learn more about this topic, not only for the sake of these stories, but to broaden my horizons and satisfy my personal curiosity.

As this series goes on, there will be more and more sign language used.
British Sign Language is in no way related to the English language and has its own grammar and sentence structure. Since I am not fluent in BSL and for the sake of the reader, the parts that are meant to be in BSL will be translated into English to not disrupt the flow of reading.