(A/N: So I can't seem to let go the concept of Soul Mates, especially in this fandom. So I present to you a Hobbit modern AU. I don't own anything to do with the Hobbit and I know I'm not the first person to have this idea. So read it and enjoy if you please.)

Carry You with Me

The bar was dead this time of day, but that didn't stop them from being open just in case. Thorin was busy wiping down glasses from the night before, something that should have gotten done before closing but had been left for the morning shift by his nephews. The boys had been swamped, he knew that, the profits reflected it, and so he forgave them for leaving him a mess to clean up.

"Excuse me?" a voice sounded from somewhere near the entrance and Thorin looked up in shock. A customer?

"Yes? How might I help you?" he asked, adjusting his gaze to the young man that had come in so quietly.

"Are you open…or am I intruding?" the shorter man asked, seeming shy and hesitant. He had a backpack hanging from one shoulder and his blond-brown curls were quite a mess, but he was not the usual run-down looking type that came in so early. No, he was wearing a hoodie with the emblem of the local community college emblazoned on it and a pair of blue jeans that appeared to be in good condition. And he was absolutely beautiful. But that was a thought for another time; Thorin figured that he had spent too long staring at the gorgeous strange already.

"No, you aren't intruding. Please have a seat," he forced himself to say and gestured to the barstool nearest to himself.

"Thank you," the stranger said and took a seat, heaving his bag onto the bar and letting the tension flow out of his body until he was leaning forward with both elbows on the bar in front of him.

"Rough day already?" Thorin asked, looking to the clock and seeing that it was indeed only 9 in the morning.

"You could say that. I taught my first class today. About half of them showed up, less than half of those believed that I was the Professor. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow," the stranger rubbed at his face with both hands as he spoke before righting himself and sticking one out for Thorin to shake. "I'm Bilbo Baggins by the way. I'm the new Professor of Local History at Erebor Community College," he said by way of an introduction. For a moment Thorin didn't know what to think, so he acted on instinct and what his manners told him to do, shaking Bilbo's hand and smiling softly.

"Thorin Oakenshield, owner and operator of The Lonely Mountain Pub and Grill," he said as he remembered himself and released Bilbo's hand after what felt like an appropriate amount of time. He hadn't been so bowled over by the beauty of a man in quite some time.

"I hadn't expected to meet the owner, it's very nice to meet you Mr. Oakenshield," Bilbo said, and Thorin hated the propriety of those words.

"Just Thorin, if you please," Thorin said at once, nearly interrupting the younger man, and he had to be at least ten years younger than Thorin himself. There were no lines of care on his face and not a single hair hinting at greying. And somehow the fact that he was so much younger did not stop Thorin from desiring the shorter man.

"Thorin then, could I trouble you for some tea, or coffee?" Bilbo asked and Thorin very much liked the sound of his name on those lips.

"I've got coffee in the back, give me just a minute and I will get you a cup," he said and watched Bilbo give a nod before vanishing through the door that connected the bar to the kitchen.

He took a moment to breathe, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs of infatuation from his mind and remind himself that there was likely no chance in the world that Bilbo was attracted to him. The coffee was over an hour old, but it was the best he could do, and he figured that it couldn't hurt to have a cup of the stuff himself. So he grabbed two mugs down and filled them from the carafe before dumping the rest and setting a new batch to brew.

Now certain that he could deal with the blinding beauty of the younger man without seeming like a babbling idiot, he grabbed both mugs and turned to leave the kitchen. The box of donuts that his nephews had left for him as an apology caught his eye and he shifted the mugs so that he was holding them both in one hand in order to pick it up. Why not offer the smaller man a donut or two; he looked awfully thin under that hoodie.

"Here we are, and some donuts to help make up for a rough first day," he said, hoping that he sounded like he was being sympathetic instead of hitting on the other man. Bilbo smiled and accepted the mug of coffee as the door swung shut behind Thorin.

"Wonderful, coffee and donuts are one of my favorite breakfasts," Bilbo said with genuine cheer in his voice and Thorin couldn't help but smile in return.

"That's perfect then. So tell me Bilbo, what brings you here?" he asked, returning to his task of wiping down glasses whilst the smaller man seemed to be agonizing over which donut to select.

"I wanted a quiet place to grade the kids' first quiz. I won't get any peace at the college, they've got all of us non-tenured types doubling up on offices," Bilbo said, finally picking up a plain glazed donut and taking a bite. He closed his eyes in bliss as he slowly chewed the sugary pastry and Thorin turned his eyes away from that angelic face, hoping to stay focused on the task at hand.

"A quiz on the first day of classes? Seems a bit rough to me," Thorin commented, scrubbing at a martini glass with vigor to remove the caramel sticking to the inside. Sometimes he wished that if the boys were going to leave him a mess that they would at least leave it soaking in the sink.

"It helps weed out the kids that are just taking it to fill credit hours. I want serious students," Bilbo said and shrugged, unzipping the backpack to pull a fat stack of papers out. The one on top was done in red and seemed to be the template for the answers to the quiz.

"Seems like a pretty sound tactic. I'll bet they took you more seriously as a Professor once you dished out a quiz," Thorin said with a smile, pausing to push his shirtsleeves back up to his elbows so that they were out of the water. He didn't expect Bilbo to bust out laughing the way that he did, the sound wasn't harsh but almost musical.

"Oh they did, a few of them decided right then that the class wasn't worth the effort and left. I'm expecting good things from the ones that stuck it out though," Bilbo explained with a smile that almost managed to steal Thorin's breath. He wondered why now, at 40 years old, he was suddenly feeling like a teenager again. What was it about the younger man that took him back to those days? It wasn't possible that this Bilbo was the Bilbo, was it?

Thorin looked at his wrist where the name was written in neat script. There had been over a hundred other Bilbo's on the Soul Mate Registry, none of them looking for a Thorin. He had all but given up on the idea of ever finding the one that had his name on their wrist, hell, he didn't even know if it was a man or a woman that he was supposed to be looking for as the name seemed to be at least mildly popular as a girl's name if not as much as it was for boys. But he supposed that it couldn't hurt to ask.

"Well I sincerely hope that they deliver for you," Thorin took a breath and steeled himself for rejection, "Bilbo, would it be too much to ask…" he trailed off and sighed, he didn't have the courage to say the words. Somehow the idea of being told 'no' by the beautiful man at the bar was more painful than he cared to think.

"I'm pretty sure I know what you're going to ask. So here," Bilbo said and stuck out his left arm, pushing the sleeve of his hoodie up. There right at the bend of his wrist was Thorin's name as if he had written it himself. His own mark had changed over the years as whoever it belonged to had developed their handwriting skills. In a daze he presented his own wrist for inspection.

"Please tell me it's a match, because that's my handwriting you've got on you," Thorin said, swallowing his shock, fear, and excitement. He had been waiting since puberty for this moment and he wasn't about to let it slip away.

Bilbo didn't respond, instead he linked their fingers together and drew Thorin's soapy wet hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the name on the taller man's skin.

"You're most definitely mine and I am yours," Bilbo said and smiled softly as his eyes met Thorin's.

(A/N: There you have it. Why not let me know what you think? Thanks for reading!)