Ok all, I'm not entirely sure why I decided to do this . . . I mean, I know what caused it, but I don't know why I went through with it. This fic was inspired by a comment thread on "Wait, You Are Supposed to Put it Where?" by HobbitFeels on AO3 where HobbitFeels and I were discussing the fact that after Lake Town there would be no real chance of privacy and a well-laid Thorin would get mighty horny mighty quickly. As statement which led to this crackfic. I have never written one before and hope that you enjoy my first foray into this category.

Disclaimer: I own nothing! (and am well aware that Smaug and Thorin would NEVER have an actual conversation let alone one about sexually frustrating lovers)

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Frustrated: it was a word that Thorin had thought that he knew the meaning of. He had been mistaken. He had never truly understood the meaning of frustration. But now . . . oh now he did and he wished that he had never needed to learn it because frustrated was the only word to describe him at the moment. Or the only semi-appropriate one. There were others, of course, but they were not fit to be uttered in any kind of polite company.

And what had placed him in a situation where the only words that aptly described him were vulgar, you might ask? The answer was simple and sitting across their makeshift campsite "on the doorstep" as Bilbo had called it and was none other than the hobbit himself . . . or rather the lack of the hobbit, if Thorin wanted to be specific. For, you see, it was not just any normal kind of frustration that plagued the King of Durin's folk in exile (and hopeful King Under the Mountain) it was sexual frustration, and it was worse feeling that he could have imagined. Having Bilbo sitting so near him, so near that he could feel the heat rising off of his skin and see the green flecks in his eyes and the way that his breath misted ever so slightly in the cool night air from the heat of his body—a heat that Thorin had every desire to be wrapped in once more—was more than he could bear.

He had thought that he had excellent self-control—perfected in years of being forced to be polite to those men as he smithed their things for a few paltry coins—but he had been wrong. Or perhaps not, or else the hobbit's protests would have gone unheeded as he took his pleasure from him. Why did it matter so much to Bilbo that the others were near? Did he truly believe that the thin walls of the inn in Lake Town had concealed what they were doing any better than a few rocks would? They hadn't. Everyone had known what Bilbo and Thorin had been doing. The hobbit's high keening moans and Thorin's desperate bellows told them as much.

Everyone knew. So what did it matter if they saw Thorin lead Bilbo to the old guardpost for a little release. They both needed it. The situation of sitting on a dragon's doorstep was stressful enough without adding sexual tension to the mix. Or at least that was what Thorin had tried to convince the hobbit of. In response he had gotten a glare so cold that it would have been able to combat dragonfire. And in an equally cold voice Bilbo had spoken.

"Thorin Oakenshield, if you think for one moment that I am going to rut with you like an animal under the open sky just because you need release, you have another think coming!" the hobbit had said before shrugging out of Thorin's embrace and beginning to walk off, looking back at the dwarf with an exasperated sigh when Thorin grabbed his wrist. It had been then that Thorin suggested that, if it was the open sky that was disagreeable, they could always go a short way down the tunnel.

That suggestion had been met with a laugh. "Yes," Bilbo had snorted sarcastically. "That makes it so much better. Let's forgo the open sky to slake our lusts in the entryway to a dragon's den. We might was well walk into Smaug's den itself and ask him politely to allow us the use of it. We would die either way. No, Thorin. We're not going to make love in that tunnel. You and I will make love again, once we have a private room inside your mountain. Consider it incentive to survive."

Thorin had nodded and allowed Bilbo to walk away but in the back of his mind, a plan was forming. A plan so stupid that it just might work. Perhaps, just maybe, the dragon could be persuaded to allow them access to one of the rooms within the mountain. Not the treasury, but perhaps one of the smaller rooms. It was this ridiculous notion that led to Thorin offering to take the first watch and then sneaking down the tunnel that led to Smaug's bedchamber—leaving his sword behind since he knew that it would do him no good. He was pleased that the air grew warmer as he went, it would help to keep Bilbo comfortable once he got him out of his clothing. There was no way that his hairless skin offered much protection. The smell of dragon was a little off-putting, but he could just burry his nose in the hobbit's hair and then the scent of Bilbo could mask it.

After a sharp turn, the tunnel opened into what had been the main hall of Erebor, now filled wall to wall with gold, atop which slept a giant red dragon. Smaug was larger than Thorin remembered him being, but that changed nothing. Thorin wasn't intending to fight with him, but rather negotiate. The dragon hadn't noticed him yet, so deeply asleep was he, so Thorin decided that he would wake him.

"Smaug!" Thorin called in his loudest voice. "I desire a word with you." With a sound midway between a growl and a groan, the great dragon lifted his head and slowly opened his eyes to stare at the strangest sight that he had seen in nearly a hundred years. There was a dwarf standing as bold as brass in the middle of his bedchamber, weaponless and in naught more than traveling armor. Despite his distaste—or rather sweet-tooth—for dwarves, Smaug found that he was more intrigued that hungry and would hear what the dwarf had to say.

"Who are you?" Smaug demanded, his voice deep and reverberating.

"Who I am is not the matter I have come to discuss with you," Thorin replied. "Nor is it one that I intend to."

"That is a shame," Smaug sighed. "It has been too long since I ate someone with a name. I had hoped that you had come to change that."

"No," Thorin replied. "I haven't come to be eaten—not by you at any rate. I have come to beg a boon." At this Smaug laughed, a terrible sound that shook the walls and radiated through Thorin's bones.

"Let me guess," Smaug said wryly. "You wish me to peacefully leave the mountain and never return so that you and your kin can reclaim your gold and city. I'm afraid that I am disinclined to comply with your request. Prepare to be eaten."

"That is not my request," Thorin said, attempting to stare down the great fire drake. This gave Smaug reason to pause. What else could this dwarf want of him? With a confused sound deep in his chest, the dragon settled back down on his bed of gold and jewels and looked at the dwarf in speculation.

"What is your request?" Smaug asked. "I am not saying that I will grant it, but I will hear it. If I dislike what I hear you will become my dinner."

"I request the use of one of the small chambers off to the sides of this one," Thorin said. "I know that they are of no use to you, your arm wouldn't fit into them let alone your body."

"You desire to live here, with me?" Smaug scoffed. "That is even more absurd that the request I had thought you had come to make." Again the great dragon rose, his maw open and prepared to swallow Thorin whole.

"Again you misinterpret me," Thorin said with a laugh. "I have no desire to live here with you. I merely wish to borrow one of the chambers for the night. You see," Thorin elaborated when Smaug looked at him with the dragon equivalent of a sneer, "my mate . . . well he refuses . . . something about a lack of privacy. I thought that if you would allow us the use of one of the chambers, and perhaps leave your den—only for a few hours, mind—he might be more agreeable." Silence met his words as the dragon stared down at him in shocked disbelief. And the Smaug was laughing again, great paroxysms of laughter that shook the very foundations of the mountain.

"Let me attempt to understand this," Smaug said once he had himself somewhat under control. "You, a dwarf, want me, a dragon, to allow you to bring you mate—who I assume is also a dwarf—into my mountain and leave to give the two of you privacy to fuck one another senseless? And you actually had the gall to come here and make this request knowing that you would be eaten." Thorin nodded but said nothing. The dragon had understood his request, now all he could do was wait and see what Smaug decided. It wasn't as if the situation could get worse even if the dragon decided to roast him before he was eaten it couldn't compare to the fire that was burning in Thorin's veins. And at least then there would be an end to it.

"May I ask, how long has it been?" Smaug demanded. "How long has your mate refused you?"

"Too long," Thorin replied, to which Smaug snorted, a light sound.

"It always is," the dragon replied sagely. "Did he know that you were this desperate?"

"I doubt it," the dwarf said with a laugh. "Else wise he wouldn't have denied me for so long." The dragon nodded, a quiet hum, almost a purr, in his throat as he contemplated the situation. Finally, with what was almost a smile—but was terrifying due to his teeth—Smaug spoke once more.

"I will allow it," the dragon said.

"You will?" Thorin asked incredulously. He hadn't actually ever thought that this would work! Smaug the Terrible was allowing him to bring Bilbo into the mountain for a roll in the hay. No one would ever believe this.

"I will," Smaug agreed. "Did you never wonder what brought me to your mountain in the first place?"

"We wondered but never figured that we would know," Thorin replied. "We believed it to be the gold."

"It was, to an extent," Smaug agreed. "But not truly. You see, I had a mate, Lovely thing too, had such a spectacular tail flare." The dragon made a sound in his throat that Thorin knew only too well—it was a sound of lust. "Anyway, one day my mate decided that she would deny me sex, said that I was not applying myself in the Withering Heath that she wanted more. I asked her what it would take to get her to allow me to mate with her and she told me that she would only mate with me again on a bed of gold and jewels. So I found her one."

"And she never came," Thorin finished for him.

"Oh, she came," Smaug said, a bitter laugh in his words. "In more than one sense of the word. However, once we were done, and I told her that she couldn't have the hoard for herself, she told me that she was not actually interested in me in that way and left with my cousin."

Thorin winced. That was a rough break. Smaug had destroyed Erebor for his mate and she didn't actually want him. Somehow that almost made Thorin pity the great beast that had taken his home and killed his kin: almost.

"I know!" Smaug said with a sigh. "That is why I'm agreeing to this, I would have you find out if your lover actually loves you before I kill you both. I would hate for you to die with his name on your lips and another's on his. If he will walk with you into the den of a dragon for sex . . . in that case you know that he is yours."

"So will you leave?" Thorin asked. "Or do you intend to sit here and play voyeur? He and I have been known to get rather vocal in the throes of passion."

"I have no desire to hear that," Smaug scoffed. "I have heard many different sounds from dwarves over the years; impassioned cries are not a sound that I need to add to my memory. I will leave for the night. Come dawn, if you are still here, I will eat you both. Is this arrangement agreeable?"

"It is beyond agreeable," Thorin replied. With a great sigh, Smaug heaved himself to his feet and began the long walk to the front gate of Erebor. It was only after he was gone, and Thorin was halfway up the tunnel to fetch his hobbit, that the king realized that they now had their chance to retake Erebor.

He sent word to Bard via the thrush that Smaug was at large before he picked up the still-sleeping Bilbo and carried the hobbit into the mountain. Bilbo awoke just as they passed through the treasury, his eyes going wide in shock at the location before Thorin deposited him gently on the floor of one of the smaller antechambers.

"Thorin, what—" Bilbo began only to be cut off by a passionate kiss.

"I managed to secure us a private room in Erebor," Thorin replied once he was done, looking down on the hobbit with unadulterated lust, the look of confused surprise on Bilbo's face making him more than a little uncomfortable in his clothes.

"The dragon?" Bilbo asked, his eyes still wide with shock.

"Gone for the night," Thorin replied nuzzling the hobbit's neck and leaving small bite marks there. "Have you any more protests."

"None," Bilbo replied, and like someone had flicked a switch, lust began to burn in his hazel eyes before he captured the dwarf king's mouth in a vicious kiss of passion and want. Thorin had to admit that he was floored. He hadn't known that Bilbo had that in him. And it turned out that his hobbit had a few more surprises for him that night.

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When dawn came, Bilbo and Thorin were still in the antechamber, having ravished one another to the point that Thorin had forgotten the dragon's warning, but it didn't matter. During the night, Smaug had been killed by Bard the Bowman. So it came to pass that the sexual frustration of one dwarf due to a prudish hobbit who wanted privacy led to the retaking of the great Dwarf Kingdom of Erebor from Smaug the Terrible. It was Thorin's greatest conquest.

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So what did you think? I highly doubt that I will shift from writing angst to writing crackfics, but I would still love to hear what you thought!

Stickdonkeys.