For Lomelindi (PirateColey), for just everything. Lots of reasons.

I don't own any of them, more's the pity. If I did, they'd have a lot more fun.

Morning dawned bright and clear and Bofur groaned when the sun hit his face. Insane, he was insane for having drunk so much the night before. That Elven wine, weak as it seemed, wasn't to be trifled with. His head was a drum, his eyes wouldn't focus and it tasted like Smaug himself had used his mouth for a toilet. Never again would he touch that Elvish poison. Never.

He pulled his hat down over his face. The sun was entirely too bright.

"Here, this'll help." Once Bofur could process the words he realized it was Nori's voice. Something was pressed into his hand and he struggled up onto one elbow to regard the thief with some concern. "Go on, drink it then."

Bofur shrugged, winced as the motion jostled his head, and tossed back the drink. It took everything he had not to fetch it back up, too. Once he'd caught his breath, he did admit to feeling slightly better; at least he didn't feel like death was imminent. Or quite so welcome. "What was in it?" he murmured.

"You don't really want to know. Got it from Oin. It does help." Nori rose and moved away and Bofur cradled his aching head in his hands for a moment before getting up himself.

"Thanks." Bofur went to the remains of last night's fire and rummaged through his pack, looking for his pipe. He could have sworn he'd put it – no, it wasn't there.

Nori.

Bofur looked up at the thief, who cocked an eyebrow at him as if to say "Who, me?" and slouched away with a tiny smile of his own. Then he sighed heavily and rummaged a little more, finding his spare (at least Nori hadn't nicked that as well) and started to fill it.

Rational thought was slowly returning with the absence of the headache and he was able to realize several things at once. First, that though he'd thought it was the bare crack of dawn when he woke, he'd been quite mistaken. The room they'd chosen for their celebrating the night before faced the wrong direction for morning sun and yet it was streaming in, so it had to at least be afternoon. Late, by the position of the sun in the actual sky, which he could see from his spot near the windows. He'd slept most of the day away.

Two, that Nori was up to something.

It went without saying, really. Nori was ALWAYS up to something. But this time, it involved Bofur directly and he should really try to figure out what his thief intended. It certainly wasn't any form of courtship. He'd made it quite clear, Nori had, that Bofur was merely a convenient outlet for his lust and there was nothing more to it.

Clear as mud, Bofur thought idly as he smoked. He'd seen Nori's expression after their last encounter, and it had been pure panic. Something he had done scared the thief and he needed to figure this out. But try as he might, he could think of nothing. Nothing save some exceptionally good sex.

Could that possibly be the problem? Nori was so worldly and subtle, but he was also isolated due to his profession. Could it possibly be that he'd just never had more than a rough tumble in the night? It seemed likely; Bofur himself could remember the first time he'd felt real passion take hold of him. It had scared the very socks off of him.

If that was what ailed Nori, then more would help him to understand it wasn't something to fear. It was something to be treasured, enjoyed, sought out. And of course that would further Bofur's aims of keeping the thief in his bed as well.

Passion was nothing to be afraid of, and yet it was utterly terrifying the first time Bofur experienced it. He'd been with a lover, of course, someone he cared for but didn't really love. Dwarves only love once and he hadn't found that one, not yet. But there was affection, and there was sex, and sometimes the two joined together and completely unhinged you.

If Nori was feeling any sort of passion for the first time... it would explain the sheer panic. And passion stemmed from affection (or love but Bofur wasn't holding much hope for that), so at least that meant there was hope of more from his thief.

His pipe was empty. He sighed heavily, tapped the ashes into the ashes of last night's fire, and packed it again. Now that he had a good understanding of what Nori was feeling, he needed to do something about it. And that would take more thought – and more smoke.

(Nori)

Nori didn't understand why he had done it. The sex, of course, he was frustrated, he needed, and Bofur was handy. But the hangover remedy that he'd specifically asked Oin for, stealing the earring, the pipe... he wasn't sure.

Yes, he was. At least the earring. It was one of Bofur's more prized possessions and as such, a good target. And it would keep the miner guessing as to what would be stolen next.

It was a game, really. The pipe, too. And anything else he was able to make off with during this little – well. It was an affair, he supposed. At the very least, it cured both their frustrations.

But there was something else that was driving him crazy. He FELT something for the miner, something he hadn't intended. Whether it was simple friendship, affection, love, he didn't know. And he didn't really care. He didn't want to feel it, whatever it was.

No strings attached. That was his style, always had been. Emotions changed that dynamic. And emotions got in the way when you were trying to work a job.

So why did he have this overwhelming urge to not only fuck Bofur into mindlessness but to hold him after, to feel the sound of his heartbeat against Nori's own? Why did he want to stay close to the miner, to protect him, to cherish him?

He made a fist and slammed it down on the railing. He was alone, utterly alone, there weren't even any Elves in earshot and that was how he wanted it. So why was he thinking of Bofur instead of enjoying the solitude as he usually did?

He needed to stay away.

And he couldn't. And it wasn't just the mind-numbing, toe-curling, absolute best sex ever. If it were just that, he'd stop in a heartbeat and go back to his own hand. It was something more, something different, something – something emotional.

He wanted Bofur to be spoiled for anyone else. He wanted the miner for himself, and that simply would. Not. Do. He needed to stay free and if he allowed himself to feel these things he wouldn't.

But he couldn't stay away.

He even wore the earring. Not as intended; no, it rested on a fine chain inside his tunic, where none would see but he could clearly feel it. It was a link to his miner, the only one he would truly allow.

He took another deep breath as his fingers closed around the earring. He could do this. He didn't have to have any feelings at all about it. It was good sex, nothing more. It was DAMN good sex, but nothing more. And in the meantime, he could keep his hand in by nicking a few more of Bofur's things. Yes, that was it. The more of the miner's stuff he had, the more likely he'd be to agree to join Nori for some fun. And sooner or later, Bofur would get it all back. It was just a game. Right?

Just a game.