Hey folks!

I'm very excited to hear what you guys think about this fic.

When you read this, please bear in mind that English is not my first language. So if a sentence or a word doesn't make any sense to you, that's probably why. Please point out any mistakes so I can fix them.

This is the first instalment of my series "Something Wonderful". Go to my profile to check for more!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these lovely characters. They all belong to J.R.R Tolkien. I do not make any money by publishing this work.

Chapter 1

12 June 2007

Thorin strides along the aisles of Tesco, his mobile phone pressed to his ear.

"What size?" He asks the person on the other end of the line. "The nappies. You didn't tell me what size." He dodges a runaway trolley and turns into the aisle cunningly named "Your Baby". And he is immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of offerings. And the amount of people in his path.

"Size three," his sister says over the phone. He can hear Fili squealing in the background. "The blue ones. With the little dragon on the front."

Thorin grumbles to himself as he searches the shelves for the familiar box. Aha. There it is. He quickly makes his way over before anyone can stop him and plucks a box off the shelf. Thorin takes three seconds to make sure he grabbed the right size. He is just in the process of opening his mouth to bid his sister goodbye when she starts talking again.

"Since you are already there, can you bring some jam? Strawberry. You know which one, right?"

Thorin groans and hoists the pack of nappies under his left arm.

"Anything else?" he asks sarcastically while manoeuvring through the crowd. Of course the baby aisle and the jam aisle have to be on opposite ends of the shop.

"Nope, that will be all. Thank you so much, brother dear. We'll see you in a bit!"

Thorin hears Fili babbling before he disconnects the call. It's just like Dis to forget to buy nappies and then send him to the shop after work. It's not like he has anything else to do. Well, he really hasn't. He was going to go over to his sister's anyway but a stop at the supermarket was really the last thing Thorin needed.

He dodges more shoppers and finally reaches the right aisle. It is more deserted than the baby aisle had been, he can see only one other person here. Thorin slowly lets his eyes wander. He spots the brand that Dis favours fairly quickly but huffs when he realises that the other shopper is blocking his access to the jar he has set his eyes on.

Thorin moves closer and straightens his back to look taller and more threatening. He likes to do that sometimes. Okay, all the time, really.

The short man doesn't seem to notice the brooding figure behind him as he is studying the shopping list in his right hand while holding a jar of strawberry jam in his left. He is standing right in front of the jars that Thorin needs access to.

Thorin clears his throat audibly but the man ignores him. Thorin drops the box of nappies to the ground and folds his arms across his broad chest. He shakes his head in annoyance and clears his throat again. And then coughs. Both are completely ignored. The other man is still engrossed in his shopping list.

"Excuse me," Thorin starts, getting a little impatient now. No need to get rude just yet though. The other man does not show any reaction. Maybe just a tiny amount of rudeness then. "You are in my way," Thorin hisses at him. He studies the back of the man's head. Curly hair, the colour not quite blond and not quite brown, a hint of red in it too. Two big ears, oddly pointed at the top, stick out from under all the hair. Small in stature, maybe five foot two in height. Thorin's analysing gaze wanders lower. A dark blue polo shirt, short sleeved. Well, it is quite warm outside. Nobody goes to the shops in a suit. Except Thorin. Beige cargo shorts and brown flip-flops. It's not that warm, is it? The man is dressed as if he is planning to go to the beach in some hot Mediterranean country. This is bloody England.

Thorin's conclusion: No threat to be feared from this one.

He gives the short man one last chance to get out of the way. "Excuse me, I would really like to get my jam now. You've been standing there for five minutes now, staring at your shopping list. Are you stupid or something?" Thorin dares for the man to turn around and snap back at him. But nothing happens.

Thorin releases a sigh before he moves forward and grabs the other man by the shoulder to pull him away from the shelf of jam jars. The man stumbles in surprise and has to grab the side of his trolley to keep his balance, dropping the piece of paper in the process. He looks up in astonishment when he gets his bearings and watches Thorin lift a jar of strawberry jam off the shelf. When their gazes meet, Thorin glares daggers at him. He is somewhat surprised when the short man smiles at him apologetically. His glare does not recede though. With an "idiotic moron" in the other man's direction Thorin turns around and strides away, having had enough of other people's stupidity and ignorance for the day.

He is almost at the checkout counters when he realises that he forgot the nappies in the jam aisle. With a groan he turns around to retrieve them but stops himself. Damn those nappies. He'll just get a new pack. Just in case the moron is still lurking around somewhere. After another trip to the baby aisle, where he narrowly escapes a chat with a nosy mother and her screaming toddler, Thorin gets in line at the registers. And groans when he sees who is loading bananas and yogurt onto the conveyor belt in front of him. The curly haired man from the jam aisle. Thorin considers choosing another cashier but in that moment the stranger lifts his gaze after pulling his last items from the trolley. The man smiles brightly. Tiny lines appear around his mouth and eyes, two rows of white teeth now visible between thin lips. Thorin stares at him for a second. He thinks that the man might actually be considered handsome. More than handsome actually. Bordering on beautiful. Big blue eyes and a button nose surrounded by faint freckles, rosy cheeks and those damn curls surrounding the round face. Definitely someone Thorin would call handsome, bordering on beautiful. If he wasn't a complete dick and standing in the way and ignoring people when they asked him to move. The man's smile doesn't falter even when Thorin glares at him.

The stranger's gaze lands on the nappies for a second and he chuckles before turning around to push his trolley closer to the cashier. Thorin dumps the nappies and jam onto the conveyor belt and pretends to study the candy bars on display next to the registers while actually watching the man in front of him out from the corner of his eye. He is currently tapping the fingers of his right hand on the bar of his shopping trolley while his left is clutching a black wallet in a tight grip.

When it is the shorter man's turn, Thorin pretends not to watch him load his bananas and yogurt and jam back into his trolley. Smiling seems to be one of the man's favourite past times because he is now smiling at the cashier as he hands over some money. Instead of responding to the clerk's "Have a nice day", the stranger flashes him a grin and then slowly pushes his trolley towards the exit, studying the receipt in his hand.

Thorin is relieved that the man has finally left for his mind can finally focus on something else. At least for two minutes because when Thorin strides through the doors into the warm summer breeze, the curly haired stranger is suddenly in front of him again.

The man comes to an abrupt stop outside the shop to check his surroundings before crossing the street to the parking lot.

Thorin, having walked a little too fast, bumps right into him. And immediately starts glaring again. Before the other man has completely turned around, Thorin is yelling at him.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you really such a dick? First you drive me mad by completely ignoring me and standing in my fucking way and now you stop in the middle of the fucking way just to trip me up. Are you provoking me on purpose? What is your problem?"

The man watches him silently and with big eyes. They make him look like a stupid puppy. Just as adorable and vulnerable as a stupid fucking puppy.

When Thorin is done with his rant, they stare at each other for a while.

Then the stranger raises his hands to point at his ears and then shakes his head.

What? What is tha- Oh. No. Is he really-?

Well. Shit.

Thorin has never felt this horrible. Ever.

He just insulted a deaf man for not hearing him.

The curly haired man has reached into the pocket of his shorts and is now holding a notepad in his right hand while writing something down with his left. He hands the notepad to Thorin when he is done.

Sorry. Deaf person here.

But you are welcome to use my notepad to throw insults at me.

Thorin looks up sharply and is confronted with the warm gaze of the short stranger. The man's eyes are looking at him intently while his mouth is still curled into a smile. Thorin considers those red lips for a second before meeting the man's gaze again. The deep blue eyes are still watching him and for a moment he thinks that he would quite like to be able to have more frequent access to those beautiful orbs.

Thorin realises that he has been staring for a little too long now and drops his gaze to the notepad in his hand. He knows that he can't bring himself to offend this beautiful being even more than he already has, deaf or not. For a second he glances up at the man in front of him who now raises his eyebrows in wonder. He drops the pack of nappies to the ground and grabs the pen the other man is offering him.

I wasn't insulting you, Thorin writes back. The curly haired stranger laughs at his response and right then Thorin is melting into a puddle of mush. Because it is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard in his entire life.

Really? I must have misinterpreted your thunderous facial expression. What did you say then? The man asks and Thorin is sure that he is humouring him.

Well, only one way out of this. Thorin lifts the notepad up so that the other man can't see what is being written. He moves the pen across the page very slowly, glancing at the stranger in front of him now and again to smirk at him. He only gets raised eyebrows in response.

Thorin takes a deep breath and then hands the notepad back to its owner.

I was asking whether you would like to go out for coffee sometime.

The man is certainly surprised by the words but then giggles and quickly writes a response.

Maybe don't look so murderous next time you ask someone out. It might confuse them. I'm not a big fan of coffee but do I appreciate a good tea. He shows the words to Thorin before scribbling again.

Text me when you are free. Below that he adds a phone number.

Thorin feels his heart go light and smiles. A real smile. His face feels a little funny because he hasn't smiled like that in quite a while. The stranger rips the page with their conversation off his notepad and presses it into Thorin's hand before turning around. As he grabs his trolley he winks at Thorin over his shoulder before looking left and right and then he crosses the street towards the parking lot.

Thorin is left dazed and there is a feeling in his lower belly that he can't quite interpret. He watches as the other man loads his groceries into the boot of a Volvo station wagon and eventually drives off.

The first thing Dis notices is the wrong nappy size. "I said three, Thorin," she grumbles as she shoves the box of size four nappies in his face. "These are never gonna fit. I'll have shit and piss everywhere." She does thank him for the jam though. Then she notices something else. Her brother is smiling.

"Why are you smiling?" she asks suspiciously and scrutinizes him carefully. Thorin really is smiling. A real smile. He never smiles. Thorin shrugs and pretends to be busy greeting his nephew with sloppy kisses. Fili, at nineteen months old, endures the show of affection with a giggle. His mother wonders if she should be happy or concerned about her brother's sudden cheerfulness. She decides to watch Thorin closely for further symptoms.

Thorin is lounging on the sofa when he decides that now is the right time to make his next move on the beautiful stranger from the shops. His left hand fishes out his phone while his right is removing the neatly folded piece of paper from the front pocket of his dress trousers. No time to change into something comfortable. There are more important things to do. Like making sure that he sees the man with the beautiful blue eyes and the honey curls again. It takes him a while to come up with a good enough text to send.

Hi! Just making sure that you didn't give me a wrong number earlier. He hits SEND and then realises that he should have given some indication of who he is.

I'm the guy from the supermarket btw. That should clear things up.

Thorin doesn't have to wait long for a response. He almost drops his mobile in shock when it starts vibrating and chimes loudly.

What? Who? I don't remember visiting a supermarket today.

He growls and types a reply with a little more force than is necessary.

Please don't tell me that little shit really did give me a wrong number.

Thorin suddenly feels sick. And very sad. Not angry. Not really. He had insulted the other man after all. Not that his insults had been heard. But the man probably just wanted rid of him and had given him a random number.

His phone chimes again.

Just kidding. The little shit gave you the right number. Can't let a handsome man like you off the hook that easily after all.

Thorin chokes on a chunk of air and he doesn't know if he had been about to laugh or sob.

And you bought the wrong nappies today.

What? How did he know that? He sits up.

You left a box of size 3 nappies in the jam aisle. At the registers you had size 4 ones.

Thorin huffs.

Thanks for pointing that out NOW.

I had to get revenge somehow. Glaring at people like that is not nice.

You really are a little shit.

I'm certainly endeavouring to.

Thorin likes this man more and more. He is grinning as he is typing a reply.

And does that little shit actually have a name? I don't like having little shits in my contact list.

Bilbo. I actually like having a "handsome stranger" in my contact list. But knowing your name might prove useful some day.

"Bilbo," Thorin murmurs and lets the name roll off his tongue easily. It really suits the short man with the honey curls. He replies quickly.

Thorin.

I like that name. Never seen it before. It seems really fierce and strong.

Thorin doesn't know how to respond to that. But he doesn't have to worry about that for long because his phone chimes with another incoming text.

Didn't you say something about meeting up for hot beverages of our choosing?

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.