Bilbo shivered pressed against the warmth that was Thorin. The sensation within him grew too strong to contain. He ached for this dwarf for too long, he was far too patient and far too desperate in thinking he won't be able to touch even the strand of his hair to be still in a moment like this.
He was more than offered, more than invited, he was pressed against his length like it was his right to be so like Thorin is his to dispose of with.
The night seemed as it was burning fast as a fuse on fireworks. The morning will come but Bilbo won't let it steal this moment.
A burglar he was and a burglar he will be. He'll take from Thorin whatever he can, every scent, every sound, every inch of him will be his to dispose of with, to examine.
As he moved to wiggle out of his embrace their members met and Bilbo noticed the difference in their size but he wasn't the Hobbit to be discouraged by his size, to be diminished by odds.
Thorin lessened his grip and Bilbo attacked his skin as he would any task with focused aim exploring his muscles, measuring his arms, searching for weakness, for reaction. Thorin laughed at first but soon his laughter became silence which was replaced with sighs and finally Bilbo was awarded with a moan.
That made Bilbo smile feeling victorious but before he could take Thorin over the edge of pleasure Thorin moved and in an instant Bilbo found himself with his back to the ground as the weight of Thorin pressed onto him.
"This is a dangerous game you play little Hobbit," Thorin growled to his ear and Bilbo felt like he'll explode from within.