Bard's question left Bilbo flushed a bright pink and sputtering all sorts of incoherent words and excuses. His breath quickened and he pulled at the hem of his shirt, as if he wished to hide himself in it. He wondered if it were possible to just curl up inside like a turtle, and wait for the dander to pass.
"W-well, I'm not. . . That is, I don't know I. . .I shouldn't-" He was only stopped when Bard held up a hand. He then turned towards the doors of the subway, and Bard held one open as Bilbo strode into the busy restaurant. The line wasn't terribly long, but not short enough to keep Bard from questioning him as they waited. Bilbo twitched nervously as they stood in line, afraid to say any more as to humiliate himself even further.
"Don't worry, the way you talk about him, it's like some old girlfriend or lifelong crush," Bard seemed to notice the panicked expression on Bilbo's face, and tried to remedy the looming emotional disaster, "it isn't obvious, though. At least to your teammates."
Bilbo sighed when Bard told him this, somewhat relieved at the prospect of nobody knowing. He knew if anybody on the team so much as heard about Bilbo's little predicament, he would never be able to see the light of day again, especially from Fili and Kili. Bilbo also didn't want to even think about what would happen if Thorin ever found out. But now that Bard knew it was only a matter of time, "Y-you won't-"
Bard shook his head, "No, I wouldn't do that to you, though I might just have to help you out." Bard winked at Bilbo and turned to order his meal.
Once the two of them paid for their food, they decided to walk back to Bilbo's flat and eat there, maybe review some english notes and as Bard put it 'form a plan of action." At least Bilbo wouldn't have to deal with Thorin alone.
"Um, what did you say about me 'needing help?'" Bilbo squeaked as they trudged back down the sidewalk.
"Help you, y'know, with your romantic situation," Bard winked again, and demonstrated with two exaggerated pelvic thrusts, "you, my friend, need to get laid."
If it was possible for Bilbo's face to turn any redder, it did, and for a moment, he was speechless. Bilbo was always considered a bit of a prude, but in reality he had never found the right way to ask someone out. Girls made him fidgety and nervous, whereas boys had never really crossed his mind. At least, not until now. He always thought of chasing after someone you admired slightly unnecessary and shameful, let alone a 6'2'' flyhalf that looked as if he wanted to snap you in half.
"I- I hardly think that it's appropriate. . ." Bilbo stammered.
"To do what? To date some super hot guy that happens to be the captain of your rugby team? Come on, Bilbo, you sound like my grandmother." Bard laughed and clapped a hand on Bilbo's shoulders as the two of them finally climbed the steps of Bag End. Bilbo smiled sheepishly but didn't answer.
Bilbo expected the the flat to be either deserted or full of loud rugby players when he got there, but instead he heard the sound of high-pitched, hollow laughter coming from the kitchen. He instructed Bard to toe off his shoes and quickly turned to investigate the people in the kitchen. There he found Thorin, who glanced up at Bilbo from his laptop briefly, his face as stony as ever. There was also a tall, thin blonde girl in a tight, low cut top and very short shorts. Her eyelashes and lips were too big and her nails were painted pink, all perfectly manicured. What was worse was that she was seated close enough to the laptop to be pressing into Thorin, while still able to innocently look at whatever they were looking at without abuse. Thorin was sitting normally enough, if not a bit uncomfortably, his face drawn and hands brought together in front of him. Bilbo shifted on his feet nervously and cleared his throat.
Thorin coughed band shot Bilbo a slightly annoyed look, "Angie, this is Bilbo, my flatmate. Bilbo, Angie, we were going over some english notes together." Thorin spoke stiffly, almost as if he was nervous. It was odd, seeing him speak as if he were making a bad excuse for his parents or something. Angie turned and flicked her eyes over Bilbo, making a face.
"He's smaller than you said."
Bilbo smiled awkwardly and blinked. He felt Bard tug on Bilbo's sleeve in reassurance, and Bilbo found the courage to try and speak.
"Um, nice to meet you. . . S-so you two are, like. . ?"
"No." Thorin almost shouted, and Angie jumped back slightly. After a moment Thorin seemed to check himself and sigh, "No, we just met today. She suggested we study for a bit after practice."
Bilbo nodded as he watched Angie almost slither back to Thorin's side, and tried to hide clenched fists. He set his jaw and swallowed.
"Well, Bard and I are going over some notes as well, so I'll give you two some privacy." he noticed a pleading look on Thorin's face before grabbing Bard's sleeve and retreated to his bedroom. Once the door was closed he sat Bard down on his bed and frantically began pacing back and forth.
"Bilbo, calm down." Bard nearly chuckled as Bilbo began to compulsively tidy his room.
"She can't! He wouldn't like her! She doesn't even know him at all! He's-"
"Bilbo." Bard stood and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. Bilbo gave Bard an exasperated look before settling down on his own bed and wringing his hands nervously. He sputtered all of his neurotic mumbling and rants at Bard, who listened, nodding and giving imputed when necessary. It wasn't until Bilbo was done with his speech, when Bard decided to talk.
"You've never dated anyone before, haven't you?" Bard asked almost gently, a smirk pulling at his lips. Bilbo could only blush furiously and mutter apologies.
A knock at the door silenced them both, and Bilbo stood to open it. He hesitated for a moment, but slowly turned the handle and peeked around the door. He tensed and gripped the knob tightly, as if he were shielding himself from a feral animal. Thorin stood in the doorframe, leaning on one of his elbows for support. He fixed Bilbo with one of his glares again, cold eyes sparkling a deep blue as he scratched his unshaven chin.
"We're out of milk." he said in a low voice, which only made Bilbo squirm even more. The frigid gaze seemed to shift into something less threatening, and Bilbo felt his mouth go dry.
"Well, it's getting late, and I've got a class tonight! I, uh, I have to go." Bard quickly jumped up from where he was seated and nodded at Thorin, who reciprocated. He then pushed past the flyhalf at the door and winked at Bilbo, actively showing himself out. Thorin merely watched as Bard closed the door behind him, and Bilbo made himself a mental note to sentence his friend to death, under the charge of treason and desertion.
"You could just go over notes with me, if you wanted to," Thorin spoke carefully, "he didn't have to come over."
Bilbo scoffed at Thorin's hypocrisy, but didn't call him out on it, "I invited him because he's my friend."
Thorin bristled at Bilbo's defense, but relaxed slightly after mulling it over. He tried to play it cool and cross his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly, "Are you angry with me?"
Bilbo barked out a laugh at the irony in Thorin's question. Thorin Oakenshield, the grumpiest thing to ever exist, was asking Bilbo Baggins if he was angry, "No, I'm not mad! Why would I be mad? It's not like you've done anything wrong. You haven't made me mad, I mean, she's pretty and all but come on."
Bilbo's rant was halted by two huge hands that managed to engulf his shoulders. Thorin's face was much closer to Bilbo's, eyes searching for attention. Bilbo stiffened and turned red up to his ears, face very hot all of a sudden. Thorin's eyes were icy blue, however, and Bilbo could feel the taller man's breath on his mouth.
"She is nobody." Thorin rumbled, almost inaudible. He squeezed Bilbo's shoulders reassuringly, but didn't move. Bilbo nodded and looked away, feeling a little embarrassed that Thorin discovered his contempt. He caught Thorin looking for a moment longer than necessary, but then he was released. Thorin drew himself back up to his full height and Bilbo sighed.
The two stood quietly, unmoving and looking everywhere but at each other. Bilbo balled his hands into fists at his sides, desperately trying to calm his fluttering heartbeat. Thorin still examined him from the door, as if he were waiting for something to happen. He crossed his arms over his chest impatiently and Bilbo shifted on his feet.
"I'll shower first." Thorin growled, turning on his heels and trudging to the bathroom. Bilbo didn't follow, instead he checked his messages, all of them from Bard.
Sorry, there was just too much awkward.
You'll thank me later. ;)
You two are making out right now, aren't you?
Bilbo blushed at the thought of having certain liaisons with a certain athlete, and then sent a furious text back. He sat on his bed awkwardly afterwards and listened to Thorin shower. He felt something rise in the pit of his stomach as his imagination ran away with him, the sensation warm and pleasant. He was quick to shove it back down once he realized what it was. He stood and began to collect his dirty laundry, absently picking up Thorin's garments off of the floor in his own cave. The small man quickly hustled out of the flat with the laundry basket, and had a small row with the washing machine before adding detergent. Bilbo wasn't sure if Thorin used his own kind of soap, but come to think of it, Bilbo wasn't sure if Thorin washed his clothes at all. Bilbo elected to just use his own instead of asking.
After winning another battle with the dryer, Bilbo decided to go back upstairs and eat the food that he and Bard had never managed to enjoy. He was halfway through the door when his phone buzzed, a message from Fili popped up on his screen.
Who's this Bard guy? New boyfriend or something?
Bilbo was halfway through fumbling to text him back while closing the door when something caught his eye. He leaned on the back of the green door and looked up from his unfinished message and gaped openly. Thorin Oakenshield was standing in the open door of the bathroom with nothing but a very small towel hanging from his hips. He was turned away from Bilbo, exposing a sleek and toned back, still damp from the shower. His posture told Bilbo that he didn't know that the scrumhalf had re-entered the flat, somewhat less coiled and stiff.
Bilbo tore his eyes away and looked down at his phone, fingers feebly trying to press the large Send button. His eyes widened as he found himself unable to control his now clumsy hands, as the phone quickly slipped from his seized hands. The mobile clattered loudly onto the floor, and Thorin turned to Bilbo, seeming to bristle.
The taller man's hair was wet and stuck to his forehead, every so often dripping large beads of water down his neck and chest. He hadn't shaved yet, so his stubble darkened his solemn and sharp features. His eyes still glittered brightly, almost as cold as the chill that ran from the base of Bilbo's neck to his toes. It took a moment before he realized that Thorin was speaking to him, and he could only stare at him, dumbstruck.
"What?" he blinked, lips barely forming the words.
"You took my clothes." Thorin repeated, raising an eyebrow.
Bilbo pursed his lips for a moment and blinked, nodding slightly, "I took the dirty ones off of your floor and washed them. . ."
"All of them," Thorin's voice sounded slightly annoyed, but had some sort of lighter tone added to it, almost playful, "You used your own soap?"
"Yes, we'll, sorry. If you'd like I could-"
"No, it's. . . Fine." Thorin nodded, cutting off Bilbo hurriedly.
Bilbo swallowed and darted his tongue out to wet his lips. His mouth was already so dry, his throat almost closing in on itself. Though he was absolutely and completely uncomfortable, he couldn't allow Thorin to know. He tried to keep himself from reading into the long and piercing stares from his flatmate, as if he were watching his every movement. Bilbo didn't fidget or wring his hands at all, but instead he merely stood paralyzed like a rabbit, and waited for Thorin to finish observing him.
When Thorin said nothing, and merely crossed his arms over his chest, Bilbo began to sweat a little. He absently pulled at the hem of his jumper and bit his lip.
His phone rattled against the floor, but neither party moved. The flyhalf voice broke the silence, making Bilbo jump.
"The team's going up to the Green Dragon for a coupl'a pints tonight. You want to come?"
It may have been the way Thorin had said it, or maybe the hopeful plea in his eye that changed Bilbo's mind. Every other offer to go out, either drinking or to some wild party, had made Bilbo scoffed and refuse politely. Today, however, Bilbo was able to feign confidence, look Thorin in the eye, and nodded curtly.
Thorin nodded back, his expression seeming to loosen before he turned to examine his stubble in the mirror. Bilbo looked away awkwardly and tried to ignore the tattoos decorating Thorin's back. The shapes were bold and geometric, with odd patterns and textures about them. His phone buzzed on the floor again and Bilbo jumped to get it. Both messages were from Fili again.
I guess your silence means yes?
So I just asked Bard, and he said no. Is he lying? He sounded mischievous.
Bilbo scoffed and sat himself down on the couch, tapping away at his phone.
No, he's not lying. Just remind me to kill him later, though.
"Don't forget the laundry." Thorin all but growled from the sink, and Bilbo seized the opportunity to escape the stuffy flat. He slammed the door a little to hard and leaned up against it, sighing with relief. Bilbo closed his eyes and tried to remember the last time he had gone drinking, but couldn't. Also judging from his size, he wouldn't be able to hold his liquor well either.
Bilbo cursed himself and his mother's bold side of the family, and realized that he had made a grave mistake.