Chapter 2
14 June 2007
The café Bilbo picked is a tiny establishment and is located in a quiet side street off Long Lake Road and, although Thorin's office is nearby, he has never been here before. Most of the tables are occupied by other patrons and they all seem to come here regularly for they are greeted with a happy wave and a slap on the back by the stout redheaded owner.
Thorin chooses a table for two near the window from where he can watch the street outside. He got here a little early to escape his sister's questioning glance she adopted the second she found out about his plans of leaving the office for lunch. He never does that.
Thorin watches the people outside walk by. The day is overcast but quite warm and many have taken off their jackets and rolled up their sleeves. Thorin took off his tie before leaving the office and unbuttoned his shirt collar on his way to the café. He checks his phone for messages but lifts his gaze when the door opens with a squeak and Bilbo enters the room. He is wearing flip-flops again. Different ones than last time. These are red, matching his button-down shirt. The short man lets his gaze wander for a second before spotting Thorin near the window. He waves shyly before making his way over. Thorin watches him and smiles when Bilbo reaches the table and sits down in the chair opposite him. The curly-haired man retrieves a pen and a notebook from his pockets and puts them in the centre of the table with great care. Thorin notes that this is a different notebook from the one Bilbo had used two days ago. This one is brand new.
The café owner chooses that moment to appear next to their table and gently taps Bilbo's forearm before he slaps the shorter man on the back. Bilbo lifts his gaze to grin at the burly man in front of him and lifts his hands to sign a greeting. Well, Thorin assumes it is a greeting. He watches as Bilbo's small and nimble hands move around quickly and raises his eyebrows when the hands suddenly point in his direction. The redhead chuckles before offering his meaty hand for Thorin to shake.
"I'm Bombur," the man introduces himself. "I'm the owner of this place. Bilbo told me about you." Thorin narrows his eyes at the shorter man who is smiling innocently. "Did he now?"
Bombur laughs loudly. "Well, only that you two bumped into each other at the supermarket and then exchanged numbers," the redhead explains quickly and ruffles Bilbo's curls mockingly.
Bilbo swats his hand away with the menu and sticks his tongue out at him. Thorin watches their interaction silently. Is that really what Bilbo told him?
Bombur eventually turns to him. "Little brat he is," the stout man utters with a nod towards Bilbo before flicking a tiny notepad out of the breast pocket of his white shirt. "What can I get you?"
Thorin glances down at the menu in front of him. He had looked at it before Bilbo arrived but hadn't made a decision yet. He frowns as he studies the meals on offer.
A small hand appears in his field of vision and points towards the soups. When Thorin looks up at Bilbo, the smaller man only nods vigorously. In the end he goes for the bean stew and, following Bilbo's recommendation, iced lemon tea.
Bombur leaves after taking Bilbo's order, ruffling his hair again on his way to the kitchen, and the short man glares at him until he disappears behind a swinging door behind the counter.
Bilbo huffs and grabs the notebook laying on the table. He quickly scribbles something down before sliding the notebook towards Thorin.
He called me a brat, didn't he? He always calls me a brat.
Thorin chuckles and nods his head before reaching for the paper.
There must be some truth in his statement then.
He winks at Bilbo before showing him what he has written.
The other man huffs again and pulls the notebook across the table to write a reply.
That's NOT the point. He's two years YOUNGER than me. He can't call me a brat.
Thorin laughs at Bilbo's irritated expression and the shorter man pouts in response. Little brat indeed.
When Bilbo makes no move to add anything else to their conversation, Thorin decides to change the topic.
How did you two meet?
Bombur and Bilbo seem very familiar with each other. And the fact that the larger man knows sign language, intrigues Thorin and makes him just a little bit jealous. Holding a conversation on paper is just not the same as talking to each other. He wonders how Bilbo feels about this. The man probably doesn't meet a lot of people that know sign language and often has to resort to his notepad and pen. He most likely carries those with him wherever he goes.
Bilbo decides to end his pouting session and greedily grabs the pen out of Thorin's hand. The taller man watches him as he writes.
He's my best friend's brother. Bofur and I met at uni. We were roommates for a while. They have a mute cousin, so they know sign language. Probably why I was partnered with Bofur . He was the worst roommate ever. Didn't wash a single dish in the three years we lived together. He didn't know what a Hoover is either.
Bilbo rambles on about his friend and his quirky habits (He always wears the same hat. I think it's never been washed. Ever. And it's probably 200 years old!). He then talks about his days at university in general and his current job as a literary translator. Bilbo is apparently very gifted in languages, despite being deaf, and is fluent in German, Spanish and Old English.
Thorin tells Bilbo about his position as the CEO of Arkenstone Incorporation, the trading company he took over from his father after he died two years ago.
Their food arrives and Thorin has to admit that he has never eaten a better stew in his life. The iced tea is quite good as well. Bilbo seems to be thrilled at the arrival of his vegetable soup and they abandon the notebook in favour of enjoying their delicious meal in silence.
By the time Thorin's lunch break is over (he really should have been back by the office twenty minutes ago), they have reached the last page in Bilbo's notebook and the pen shows signs of running out of ink. Despite Thorin's worry about being able to have proper conversations on notepads, they have had no trouble in finding things to say.
Before Thorin manages to retrieve his wallet from his trouser pocket, Bilbo has already put enough money on the table to pay for both of their meals. When the taller man makes to protest, he simply shakes his head and grins, his blue eyes sparkling.
After saying goodbye to Bombur, and receiving a bone crushing hug from the cook in Bilbo's case, they exit the café together. Outside they look at each other awkwardly for a second. Thorin opens his mouth to say something but then realises his mistake and closes it again. The shorter man hands him his notebook and pen. Thorin considers the blank space on the bottom half of the page while Bilbo watches him patiently. In the end he can't come up with anything better than
Thanks for lunch.
Bilbo grins and grabs the notebook from him.
At least you didn't insult me this time.
When Thorin makes to protest, first by opening his mouth again and then by attempting to take the pen and paper, the short man only chuckles and moves to the side to add another comment.
I know you were insulting me. I'll teach you some insults in sign language so you can do it properly next time.
He lets Thorin take the notebook now.
I'm not planning on insulting you anytime soon. Turns out you are actually quite decent.
Bilbo pretends to pout at that.
Only decent?
Thorin sees his chance.
Maybe I must spend more time with you so you can prove that you are more than decent. Dinner this weekend?
Bilbo visibly lights up at that and nods.
I'll text you.
The short man tugs the notebook and pen away and winks at Thorin before turning around and walking away.
Thorin stares after him until he has disappeared around the corner. He is about to start his walk back to the office when his phone chimes with an incoming text message. It's from Bilbo.
I have to admit you are quite decent yourself. Very decent indeed.
"What are you doing?"
Thorin is startled out of his daydreams when Dis suddenly appears in his office. He makes to close the website he had been reading on his computer but his sister is faster. She grabs his hand that is resting on the mouse and moves the device out of his reach before he can react.
Dis then leans over his shoulder to read the contents of the website.
"Why would you be interested in a sign language course?" She asks suspiciously and turns her gaze towards her brother. Thorin only crosses his arms in silent protest and glares at her.
Dis narrows her eyes at him and lowers herself onto the desk to watch her brother. "You have never been interested in learning a language before," she states matter-of-factly. Which is quite true. Their father had forced them to study Khuzdûl, the ancient language of their ancestors, and Thorin had not enjoyed it one bit. Especially since he would never actually use it because nobody outside the Durin family knows the language exists.
Thorin shrugs nonchalantly. "Might prove useful one day," he mutters, desperate to get rid of her. He can usually make her leave with his foul mood.
But Dis is not to be fooled. She raises her eyebrows at him and starts grinning maniacally. "You've met someone," she exclaims, jumping off the desk in excitement. Thorin only groans.
"Oh my God, Thorin has met someone. I can't believe it!" Dis is almost screaming now. She lifts her hands up in an act of worship. "Hallelujah! The day has come!"
Her brother is burying his face in his hands, shaking his head back and forth. His family wasn't supposed to find out about this potential relationship yet. Not in the near future. Preferably never. He will never live this down. And Bilbo will most likely run off and emigrate to Canada or Norway or South Africa to get away from the horror that is Thorin's family.
Dis closes in on him and grabs his broad shoulders. "What's his name? Is that why you were grinning like an idiot the other day? Is he mute? Or deaf? Oh Lord, you met him at the shops, didn't you? When you bought the nappies? Is that why you got the wrong size? Because you were all distracted?" Thorin lets her bombard him with questions silently with no intention of answering any of them. "Is he good looking? Is he smart? You had a lunch date with him, right? When can I meet him?"
The last question makes Thorin growl. "Never, if I have any say in it," he mutters under his breath but Dis hears him quite clearly. She swats him on the chest. "You met him at the shop. To which I sent you. I made this all happen so I have a right to meet him. Don't be such a dick about it. We are not that bad," she huffs and glares.
"Aren't you?" Thorin asks mockingly. His sister hits him again and then walks towards the door of his office. "I'll talk to Dwalin," she tells him as she opens the door. "We'll find out who your mysterious lover his." She winks at her brother and then disappears into the hall.
"DON'T YOU DARE!" Thorin yells and runs after her.
Bilbo is weeding the flowerbed in his small front yard when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.
My family found out about you.
He raises his eyebrows at Thorin's text. What is there to find out about him?
And that's a bad thing?
They had sounded lovely when Thorin talked about them during their lunch...thing. Would you call it a date?
You might want to pack your things and emigrate to some far-away country before they find you.
Thorin has a penchant for drama apparently.
I heard New Zealand is nice this time of year. But why?
Bilbo gets up and stretches his legs, his mobile still in his hand. He might as well get a drink while he is having this conversation. There should be some lemonade left, he thinks as he wipes his muddy feet on the door mat before he steps inside. He really doesn't like shoes. Especially while gardening. By the time he enters the kitchen, Thorin has already sent a reply.
They are nosy and annoying. Most annoying people in the world. They'll probably hunt you down and ask every question there is to ask. From what you've had for breakfast to when, where and whom you've had a relationship with over the last five years.
Bilbo blinks and chuckles at the last part and opens the door of the fridge. His smile drops when he realises that there is no lemonade left. He pouts and reluctantly pulls out the apple juice. It is just like him to drink up all the lemonade only to forget about it later. He would have to make some more this evening. Mentally he is already putting the ingredients together. His phone vibrates again and he remembers that he was having a conversation just moments ago. It is just like him to forget things like that as well.
Are you packing yet?
Bilbo leans against the kitchen counter and grins.
No, I'm trying to remember when, where and whom I had sex with recently. And in what position. They'll probably want to know about that as well. I know my parents would.
He wonders if Thorin will go red from embarrassment at his response. It certainly takes the other man a while to come up with a reply. Bilbo pours himself some juice in the meantime.
Making me blush is a remarkable trait.
The short man snorts but before he can come up with anything to write back, Thorin sends another text.
Please make sure I never meet your parents!
Bilbo can agree with him on that one. His parents, especially his dad, are unbelievably fussy and their favourite pastime is to annoy the living daylights out of their only son every Sunday when the three get together for family dinner. Luckily they live over an hour away and have fulltime jobs so that Bilbo can live in peace six days out of seven.
Sorry! I already sent them your file. They'll be at your place in about ten minutes. Remember: When, where, with whom and in what position.
He chuckles evilly and gulps down his apple juice before returning to his flowers. He receives one more text.
I'll be off to New Zealand then. Someone told me it's nice this time of year.
Send me a postcard!
