Just a heads up, there is a pretty steamy scene towards the end (that hopefully stays within the M-rating boundaries). I think Demons by Fatboy Slim is a pretty good song for that last part (yeah I got it from That Scene in Sense8 haha). Anyways, give it a listen, set the mood, and enjoy!

Chapter 29

They stopped in a small town nearby to collect supplies. Thorin had stashed a collection of guns and other weapons in one of the buildings, so they would be able to arm themselves if they were ever forced off the farm.

Bilbo found his eyes wandering more than once as they parked in the middle of the empty street. It had been so long since he'd seen anything but the farm and the surrounding land. Everything seemed more dilapidated now than it had been before—ivy had almost completely taken over the facade of one building, and the broken windowpanes were covered in a layer of grime.

"I need three with me, to get the weapons," Thorin said as he stepped out of the car. "The rest of you, keep watch here."

Dwalin, Bombur, and Bilbo followed him into a nearby building, what appeared to be a small playhouse.

"Let's search the place first," Thorin said. "I haven't been here in a while."

He and Dwalin went to check the stage area, while Bilbo and Bombur ventured towards the back rooms.

"It's been so long since I've done this," Bilbo said softly. "Patrolling the fence is one thing, but…"

Bombur hummed in agreement. "I get what you mean." He pushed open one of the doors, revealing some kind of office, but the interior was dark and silent. "I don't remember being this creeped out, either."

The next two rooms were empty as well. At the end of the hall was a small, dusty room stuffed with props: hats, wigs, small pieces of furniture, and several racks of clothing.

"This might be a good place to hide weapons," Bombur said. "If you know where to look."

"I don't know." Bilbo picked up a plastic knife, the blade of which retracted into the handle when pushed. "If a walker came in here, I wouldn't want to be confusing fake weapons with the real ones."

"Hmm." Bombur picked up a long, red wig. "This seems like my color, doesn't it?"

"Are you thinking about growing your hair out?"

"Maybe. Or…" He shifted the wig so it was hanging from his chin. "Wouldn't this be a good look? I'd probably have to braid it so it doesn't get in the way."

Bilbo snickered. "I think it would look great on you."

Bombur draped the wig over a chair and picked up a pair of round, thick-rimmed glasses. He put them on and looked at himself in the mirror. "Wow, someone had an intense prescription."

Minutes later, Bombur was trying on a horned helmet that was slightly too small for his head while Bilbo examined his new outfit in the mirror. He'd put on a green waistcoat and a musty tweed coat. He held up an old-timey pipe to his face.

"You look like a psychiatrist," Bombur said. "Or maybe a professor."

"I thought about it for a while," Bilbo said, rubbing his chin. "Continuing my education, teaching at the university. But I thought I was—"

The door creaked open and they both froze, hands going for their guns. Dwalin stepped inside and raised an eyebrow.

"I was beginning to think you two died, or something."

Thorin leaned in as well, his expression hovering between impatient and amused. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah." Bilbo blushed and shrugged off the jacket. "We just got a bit distracted."

"You can play dress up once we have the guns," Dwalin said. "The rest of the place is clear." He started back down the hallway, and Bombur followed him.

Thorin lingered by the door as Bilbo walked out. "I think the waistcoat looks good on you."

"Oh." Bilbo looked down—he'd forgotten for a moment that he had it on. "Well, I would keep it, but it kind of smells." He reached down to undo the buttons, acutely aware of Thorin watching him, and tossed the waistcoat back in the room. A blush was beginning to creep over his cheeks. "Shall we?"

"Yeah," Thorin said, a low rasp to his voice.

Bilbo couldn't resist leaning up to give him a quick kiss. It was a shame they didn't have time for more, but this was hardly the time or place to get distracted. "Let's go."

The others were waiting for them on the stage. Dwalin was busy lifting the cover of the piano, an empty duffel bag at his feet. Bombur discreetly made a crude gesture in Bilbo's direction, waggling his eyebrows, and Bilbo rolled his eyes.

Dwalin propped open the cover and began taking guns out of the interior of the piano. Bilbo peered inside, where space had been made for several rifles. "Well, that's clever."

"Only the larger ones are in there," Thorin said. "I didn't want to hide them all in one place." He walked over to the curtains and extracted a rope from the thick fabric. He untied a knot in the rope, causing another bag to descend from higher up. He caught it with a grunt and handed it to Bombur. "That should be everything."

Bilbo walked over and squeezed Thorin's bicep with a smile. "So there's some brains along with all that muscle."

"Will you two please get a room," Dwalin muttered as he walked past.

"Yeah, I'm sure we can give you guys thirty minutes or so," Bombur said, heading for the door. "As long as you don't mind the stage acoustics."

Bilbo was pleased to see Thorin was blushing, and laughed softly. "I think we'd better go."

Thorin cleared his throat. "Right."

They were nearly outside when the pop of a gunshot made them all tense up. Thorin went rigid, and the four of them rushed for the door.

The others were still waiting by the cars, and fortunately no one looked hurt. Ori had his gun in his hand, a dead walker at his feet.

"Sorry," he said, seeing Thorin's darkening expression. "It snuck up on me, and I panicked."

Another half dozen walkers were lumbering towards them from across the street. Striding forward, Thorin drew his knife and jammed it into the skull of the nearest one. Bifur and Nori stepped forward with their own knives and helped him take out the rest.

"We have what we came for," Thorin said as Bombur and Dwalin loaded the guns into the trunk. "Let's get out of here before any more walkers show up."

Ori, pale-faced, climbed into the van. Bilbo frowned for a moment, then took a seat next to Thorin in the front of the car.

He was still fuming a half hour later, his temper crackling across the vehicle like the air before a thunderstorm. Bilbo glanced at the backseat. Bifur was absorbed in a book, Fíli had his headphones on, and Óin was snoring in between them. He turned back to Thorin and gently tapped his arm.

"You want to talk about what happened back there?"

It took a moment for Thorin to speak. "I made an assumption when I decided to take everyone out here," he said lowly. "I thought that you would all remember what to do, how to survive. But it's been years since you've all had to do that."

"Well, for the record, you aren't taking us anywhere," Bilbo said. "We all decided to follow you. You're not responsible for us. We all look out for each other. And we might be…rusty for the first few days, but none of us have really forgotten what it was like to be on the road." He smiled wryly. "Maybe living in an apocalypse is like learning how to ride a bike. You learn it once, and you never really forget how."

"I'm still going over some ground rules once we stop," Thorin said. "And this is my responsibility. I'm the one who asked you all to come out here. This is about finding someplace safe. I can't…I can't let anyone get hurt while we're out here."

Bilbo reached over and squeezed his hand. "Like I said, we all look out for each other. We'll keep each other safe."

Thorin said nothing to that, but he held onto Bilbo for the rest of the ride.

It was raining so hard Thorin could barely see out the windshield. The streets were beginning to flood, the silvery layer of water vibrating with the force of the raindrops. The sun was setting—or, at least, that was what he assumed was happening behind the thick layer of dark clouds. It was hard to see much, with the looming trees on either side. The roads in this area were clogged with dead and abandoned cars, which had forced them down a winding side road. They would need to find shelter soon before the visibility dropped any further.

Dwalin leaned forward from the backseat. "I say we find the nearest building and stop for the night. We're not going to cover much ground in this weather."

Thorin grunted in agreement. "Let's hope the rain lets up by tomorrow."

"Yeah, or else we might have to canoe the rest of the way to Erebor."

He smiled briefly at that. A few minutes later, a house appeared on the side of the road, and he pulled into the driveway. Through the rain, he could see the headlights of the van swiveling to follow him.

The house was relatively large, and situated on a hill, so they wouldn't have to worry about flooding. Thorin opened the door, and immediately grimaced as raindrops pelted his skin. He closed the door quickly and went to grab one of the bags from the trunk.

The knob of the front door was slick beneath his wet hand, but it only took one turn to realize it was locked. Thorin cursed under his breath and glanced back. The rest of the group was standing in the rain, holding their packs above their heads in a futile attempt to shield themselves from the rain.

"Move." Dwalin shouldered him out of the way. He raised his axe and brought it down on the door, splintering the wood right next to the knob. The door swung open.

"The door doesn't lock now," Thorin grumbled as they stepped inside.

"We'll shove something against it." Dwalin shouldered his axe. "I'm not getting my only change of clothes wet because no one knows how to pick a lock."

Thorin moved aside to let the others through. "Let's check the house before we dry off."

"Dining room's clear." Nori stuck his head through one of the doorways, making them all jump.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Bifur demanded.

He shrugged. "One of the windows was open. I was gonna unlock the door and let you all in, but Dwalin kinda stole my thunder."

Thorin shot a look at Dwalin, who only grumbled under his breath and started up the stairs.

The house was clear, save a couple walkers in the basement. They left the bodies in the boiler room and resolved to keep to the upper floors. Bofur found some firewood in the living room and started a fire, while Víli set about dividing up their provisions for dinner.

"Place your orders now." He began unpacking the canned food. "We have beans, beans, or beans. And if you're in the mood for something different, tonight's special is…beans."

Bofur stretched out in front of the fire with a sigh. "I'll have the roasted duck, no onions, please."

Bilbo leaned into the room, holding up a saucepan he'd taken from the kitchen. "At least we can heat them up. Hot beans are better than cold."

Bofur leaned back with a groan. "I didn't realize how much I'd miss homecooked meals until right now."

Thorin crossed his arms and leaned against the sofa. "We'll have plenty of options once we get to Erebor."

"So, what's the plan for getting in there, anyway?" Nori asked. "It might be secure enough to keep anything out, but that includes us, for the moment."

Thorin glanced at the pack, where the notes were. In this weather, he was doubly glad of the sealed plastic bag. "From what I've gathered, most of the doors are locked. But there should be a ventilation shaft on one side of the mountain that will allow us to get in."

Víli finished prying the lid off of one can and dumped the contents into the pot. "So, one of us crawls through a vent, unlocks the door from the inside to let everyone else in, and…"

"We kill the psycho with the flamethrower," Dwalin said. "Sounds simple enough."

"I'll sneak in," Nori said. "Not my first time crawling around in an air vent."

No one decided to question that.

A few minutes later, everyone had a small bowl of hot food, and low conversation filled the air. It was a step down from life in the farmhouse, but not quite the rough camping they'd been doing before. Perhaps this was what the rest of the group needed—a sort of transition from the life of peace they'd known for so long.

Thorin glanced to the side, and found Bilbo looking up at the mantel, at the photographs on it. Each depicted a smiling family of four—a couple and a pair of kids about Kíli's age.

He reached over and touched his shoulder. "You alright?"

Bilbo shook himself and nodded. "You know, I was almost hoping we'd find people in here. Good people," he added. "It would be nice to know that we're not the only ones out here. That there's a chance to rebuild society eventually."

Thorin glanced down at his pack."We have a chance to start that. In Erebor."

Bilbo smiled at him, the light of the fire glinting warmly in his eyes, and Thorin found that he couldn't look away.

"That'd be nice," said Bofur, who had apparently been listening to their conversation. "I'd love to see some fresh faces, new families."

"Maybe some people my age," Fíli added.

Víli poked him in the side. "Maybe your future girlfriend or boyfriend."

Bombur sighed wistfully as Fíli rolled his eyes. "You know, there is something kind of romantic about post-apocalyptic romance. Even in all this death and destruction, two people can find each other and create something beautiful…"

Thorin glanced at Bilbo again and smiled. It was strange to think they might have never met if the world hadn't ended. Now, he couldn't imagine not having him in his life.

Cheeks pink, Bilbo turned to Víli. "I'm kind of curious now. How did you and Dís meet?"

"Oh, she hit me with her car."

"What?"

"Yeah, we went to the same university, so she was driving down one of the side roads and not paying attention, and hit me while I was crossing the street. I was on my skateboard, so I went flying. Luckily I didn't break any bones, but the pavement pretty much took my left elbow off." He lifted his arm to show the faded, circular scar.

"Why weren't you wearing elbow guards?" Fíli asked.

"Because I'm not a nerd. Anyway, she was super apologetic, offered to take me to the hospital. Obviously I just waited for the ambulance, but she came to visit me the next day. That was when she realized we were in the same chemistry class. I already knew because I was always staring at her...uh, hair. And I was also failing. So she offered to help me out in chemistry, I offered to give her driving lessons, and pretty soon we were dating."

Bilbo's lips twitched. "That's an…interesting story."

Thorin nudged him. "A little more romantic than almost shooting each other in a parking lot."

Víli raised his eyebrows. "What's this about almost shooting each other?"

"Oh, god." Bilbo put his face in his hands. "I'd forgotten about that."

Thorin related the story to the rest of the group, with a few added details from Fíli. Dwalin whistled lowly once they were done.

"So the only reason you didn't kill Thorin right there is because you forgot to take the safety off." He glanced at Bombur. "You're right—that is the peak of romance."

"I don't think you would have hit anything vital," Thorin said to Bilbo, whose cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. "Your aim wasn't great back then."

"That's very reassuring, thank you."

Things quieted down after that. Óin dozed off in front of the fireplace, his chin resting on his chest. Nori offered to take first watch, and the rest of them went to find somewhere to sleep.

Wordlessly, Bilbo took Thorin by the hand and led him into one of the upstairs bedrooms. It was probably the master bedroom—the room was spacious, and dominated by a large four-poster bed.

Bilbo looked at it consideringly. "Whoever lived here had a lot of money."

Thorin thought back to the walkers in the basement. "Didn't do much for them in the end." As Bilbo continued to ponder the bed, he asked, "What are you thinking?"

"Well, my clothes are still a bit damp, and I want them to be dried off by tomorrow morning…"

"What does that have to do with the bed?"

Bilbo turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Are you messing with me right now?"

His stoic expression finally cracked into a smile. "Maybe a little."

"Well, you're absolutely hilarious. You should do stand up."

"Right now?"

A grin finally spread on Bilbo's face, and he closed the distance between them. "Come here."

Their kiss smoldered in the darkness of the room, and Thorin drank it all in as his hands lowered, slipping under Bilbo's arms and pulling him closer. The lengths of their bodies pressed together, and Thorin became aware of all of it—every brush of skin, the radiating heat, the suddenly inconvenient amount of damp clothes in between them.

Bilbo seemed to be thinking the same thing, and he lifted Thorin's shirt up, prompting him to pull it off. Thorin leaned in to kiss him again, chasing his lips like a drowning man taking in a breath of air, and Bilbo took advantage of this in order to unbuckle his pants and slide them off.

It was only when he felt Bilbo's hands sliding down his chest, over his abdomen and down to the waistband of his boxers, that he realized how naked he was, compared to Bilbo's still relatively clothed state. He nudged his hands away and helped him pull his own shirt off, then tossed it to the floor. He leaned in to kiss him again, only to pause as he caught a faceful of Bilbo's hair.

"You can't just leave it on the floor." Bilbo leaned down to pick up his discarded shirt and shook it out. "It'll never dry just lying on the carpet."

Thorin sighed and watched him carefully drape his shirt over a nearby chair. "Is that really necessary?"

"Yes, it is. I'm not wearing damp clothes tomorrow." Bilbo bent down to collect Thorin's clothes, and he couldn't help but stare at the way his pants rode down slightly with the movement.

"Alright." He laid back on the bed and closed his eyes. "Don't take too long, or I might have to take matters into my own hands."

"I know you have more patience in that." Bilbo was moving to the other side of the room, evident by the soft padding of his feet against the carpet. "I wonder if they have hangers."

Thorin sighed again. "Or I might get bored and fall asleep."

A moment later, a warm weight settled across his hips, and Thorin opened his eyes. Bilbo was straddling him, completely naked. "You don't feel very asleep right now."

He smiled, heat flushing across his body as Bilbo's fingers dipped beneath his waistband. And then his lips rounded into a gasp as Bilbo took hold of him. "Alright, come here."

Bilbo took a moment to finish undressing him, then leaned down to kiss him, and then they were pressed together, the sensation sending a shivering wave of pleasure through him.

They took it slow at first, savoring the simple slide of lips, the sweet friction caused by the barest of movements. Thorin held him, both hands grasping at his back, his breaths growing heavier as they picked up the pace. For how long they continued like that, panting and thrusting against one another, he wasn't sure, but it seemed like a blissful eternity before Bilbo pressed his face into the crook of Thorin's neck, crying out as he found his release. Thorin followed him a moment after, leaning his head back and shuddered with the waves of pleasure rolling through his body.

Afterwards, they lay side by side, their breaths gradually slowing as the sweat cooled on their bodies. Thorin could feel his eyes drifting closed, the long day taking its toll, but he forced himself to stand up and find something to clean both of them off.

The door on one side of the room led to an adjoining bathroom. He found a clean towel to wipe himself off with, then grabbed a fresh one and headed back into the bedroom.

Bilbo was propped up on one elbow, watching him as he approached. His eyes trailed down appreciatively—and then he started to laugh.

"What?" Thorin glanced down at himself, wondering if he'd missed a spot.

"Why…" Bilbo laid back down, his chest shaking with mirth. "Why do you still have your socks on?"

"I don't know." Thorin tossed the towel in his direction and grumbled, "I guess you forgot to take them off."

"Well, I think it's absolutely sexy. You should keep them on."

Thorin couldn't help but grin at that. He laid next to Bilbo and kissed him again. They rearranged their limbs into a more comfortable position, and Bilbo shifted so he could rest his head on Thorin's chest.

He hummed at the slight pressure on his shoulder. "You're going to make my arm fall asleep."

"You can always kick me out of bed if you get uncomfortable," Bilbo said, his voice already growing hazy with sleep.

Thorin laughed softly and pulled him closer with one arm around his shoulders. Already, he could feel his eyelids growing heavier, and with a warm body pressed against his own, he was asleep in minutes.

This is a pretty fluffy chapter, I know. I basically wanted to give the group (and y'all) one last little happy moment before…y'know, the rest of the story. Take that how you will.

la Dictateuse asked for some background on how Víli and Dís met, so I cooked up this little story. We love a meet-cute haha.

Also, I forget if I've mentioned this before, but thank you so much for 100 reviews on this fic! I really appreciate all the feedback!