Aaaaaaaaaand posted! If i write more later I'll add more (smmmmuuuuuuut), but other than that this is done and done. I just wanted to take the time to thank everyone who wrote such awesome reviews and put up with my cruel hiatuses. You guys really made me want to write more and better and im so humble for that. Overall it was the best first fanfic experience i could've ever asked for. Thanks for being awesome!

Bofur raised his eyebrows at Bilbo's odd state, but didn't question it. The scrumhalf silently collected his wallet and keys before ushering Bofur out and pointedly locking the door. He cursed himself for not bringing an umbrella once the pouring rain drenched his skin. He shivered and scrunched his eyes up in order to see through the water pelting his nose and cheeks. Bofur offered his jacket but Bilbo politely refused. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.

"So." Bofur began, and Bilbo could barely hear him through the patter of rain and the chattering of his own teeth. "Thorin sure seemed shaken up about your altercation last night."

"Did he?" Bilbo said almost bitterly.

Bofur nodded, "I know I would be too. If three troll brutes were after my lass they might not've lasted the night."

"Your What?" Bilbo almost stopped short.

"You know, Thorin's the overprotective type. I don't think he'd let any sort of harm come to you nor any of his little dates."

"What." Bilbo felt the blood run from his face and a knot form in his stomach. He hoped Bofur would burst into laughter and give him a rough punch to the shoulder. Maybe he'd even giggle a "gotcha!" and Bilbo would be able to bark out a nervous laugh.

Bofur only widened his eyes. "Sorry, mate, I thought you two were.-"

"No, no we are not." Bilbo pursed his lips as lightning struck.

Bofur rubbed the back of his neck with a wet palm and laughed nervously. "Ah, we'll I just thought because you were out drinking with him. . . And then he took you home. . ."

"It was not a date!" Bilbo all but yelled through the crash of thunder. Bofur nodded, but for some reason went on.

"Well, there's also the way he looks at you. . . And how he talks to you. . ."

Bilbo nodded and held up a hand. "I don't want to hear it. I'm sure Thorin has a blonde little girl on his mind and just thinks I'm some strange creature with an anxiety disorder."

Bofur chuckled, "You still don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" Bilbo's eyes narrowed.

Bofur glanced around, making sure nobody was within earshot. It looked a bit silly, since Bilbo had to nearly shout into Bofur's ear in order to be heard over the storm. "You realize that Thorin plays for another team, right?" Bofur shrugged and winced a bit.

Rain dripped from Bilbo's nose, "what?"

"You know, he's. . ."

"I know what that means! How do you know?!" Bilbo snapped, shoving past him to head towards the rugby pitch.

"Well, he did have this little friend back in his 10th year of school. Also he didn't really ever enjoy the ladyfriends we brought for him when we went out, and there was this one time-"

"Okay, I get it!" Bilbo snapped again, this time punctuated with another crash of thunder. "Besides, why would you even suspect me of liking him?" Bilbo crossed his arms and clung to the sleeves of his shirt, allowing his whole body to sag as he walked. They were nearing the pitch now and his shoes were already completely soaked through.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure you can answer that yourself, the way you've been carrying on. Even Thorin himself knows that you fancy him."

Whatever sanity Bilbo had left in him was completely gone now. His heart raced as his entire face went pale. He began to shake uncontrollably and he felt a small sound rise from the base of his throat. Bofur had kept talking, all but ignoring Bilbo's sorry state. All Bilbo heard was that Thorin was already practicing on the field, and he scampered down the road.

Bofur yelled something after him but it was lost in the storm. Bilbo wiped the tears from his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. For once he was going to be a Took. For once he was going to fix something.

He could barely make out Thorin's stoic posture through the rain, and Bilbo had to squint to see him. He climbed over the chain link fence and ran towards Thorin, stopping in the endzone. Fear consumed him, he shook all over and his mind raced. He felt his lungs burn as they begged for air, and his breath came in huge gasps.

"Thorin." He called, and Thorin turned, a mix of worry and confusion on his face. His eyes flicked up and down Bilbo's body, and he blinked once. He had Thorin's undivided attention, and it was as incredible as it was terrifying.

The rain drenched his shivering hands, he rocked on his heels and wiped his eyes once, trying to keep the sobs in his stomach.

"I love you." Bilbo choked out over the rain.

Thorin's expression softened, but still was difficult to read. He stepped towards Bilbo. And Bilbo instinctively drew back. Thorin waited a moment, as if trying not to spook a wild animal, before drawing near again. This time the scrumhalf stayed where he was, however reluctant. Before long Thorin was standing not two feet away from him, and he was smiling.

The rain pattered down into his eyes as he tried to look up at the man before him. Now he was paralyzed with fear, and he was still shivering. Thorin merely pulled Bilbo into a rough hug. The smaller man's body went completely limp, and the last thing Bilbo remembered was the rough burr of Thorin's voice whispering in his ear.

"I know."

Bilbo first registered the scent of his flyhalf. Which was probably a good thing, because that meant Thorin didn't chuck his body into a ditch somewhere on the way home. He also felt warm and dry, which was somewhat more comfortable than the pouring thunderstorm that was raging outside. He heard the familiar pattering of rain on his window and the hum of his computer.

Bilbo opened his eyes, not surprised that he was wearing a pair of fluffy pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt that smelled suspiciously like Thorin. He rubbed his eyes absently and stood from his bed, dragging his quilted comforter over his shoulders and pulling it around his body. Other than the sound of the rain the rest of his flat sounded unusually silent. It made him somewhat disappointed. What Bilbo once found to be pleasant and peaceful now seemed more barren and lonely.

He opened his door quietly and peeked out, now being able to hear small noises from the kitchen. Feeling Tookish, Bilbo decided he'd go and make him and his flatmate some tea, and ignore his prebious meltdown along with his Baggins-like conscience screaming at him to hid away in his room.

Before he could reach the archway to the kitchen, Thorin stepped through it with a tray and two teacups on it, complete with a carton of cream and a bowl of sugar. It took a few moments for the flyhalf to notice him, but Bilbo was able to relish the look of surprise on Thorin's face for the first time. Thorin, having half a brain, stopped in his tracks to stare at Bilbo. Something close to blush settled on his cheeks.

"I, um. I made tea." Bilbo had to keep himself from smiling at the sight of Thorin's floundering, "for you."

Then Bilbo had to blush, because it was him, Thorin Oakenshield, standing laid bare in front of him. The stoic and mysterious captain had made Bilbo tea after an overly-dramatic proclamation of love. Bilbo was, to say the least, speechless. It was all he could do to nod in acknowledgment of Thorin's words.

"You were supposed to be asleep." His tone was nervous, not at all like his usual gruff and sure attitude.

"Right," Bilbo coughed and turned on his heel, curtly padding back to his bed and sitting down.

Thorin followed him in and set the tray on Bilbo's desk, quietly handing him a cup of tea. Bilbo took a sip and smiled up at Thorin.

"It's delicious." which was funny because it really wasn't. He liked his tea with lots of cream and sugar but he didn't want to make a huge fuss about it.

Thorin chuckled as if he knew Bilbo was lying, and took the tea from his hands. He took a sip himself and made a face, setting it back on th tray quietly. Bilbo felt is face heat up as Thorin called him out on his fib, and opened his mouth to apologize, but was interrupted by gentle fingers threading through the hair above his ears and the warm press of lips against his.

The kiss was gentler than bilbo had thought Thorin would be, not that he imagined Thorin and him kissing anyway. His hands were calloused and rough against his skin, but were nothing if not careful.

For a moment, Thorin drew back and pressed their foreheads together, breath coming unusually quick. Again, Bilbo opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a deeper and more passionate kiss. Bilbo found himself unable to protest, his head already spinning as Thorin devoured his mouth.

Thorin's tongue came like the tide, begging for permission which Bilbo happily gave. Bilbo squeezed the front of Thorin's shirt a little tighter as little gasps and whimpers were ripped from his mouth. Thorin's hand moved to rest on Bilbo's hip, the other still cupping his jaw. He let out a low growl when Bilbo began to kiss back, attempting to fight for dominance, and drew away only to push Bilbo into his mattress and continue his ministrations. A hand crept under Bilbo's shirt, making him throw his had back and gasp, allowing Thorin to nibble down his neck seductively.

It was all Bilbo could do to choke down a moan. He wrapped his arms around Thorin's shoulders and pulled him closer, letting out another small sigh. The larger man found Bilbo's mouth once more, and again pressed their lips together in a sloppy, wet kiss. The smaller of the two let out a small moan, and Thorin reached to remove his shirt.

All movement was halted at the sound of their front door opening and loud, rowdy voices calling for them. Thorin let out a curse and stomped towards the door, trying to fix his hair and shirt along the way. The noise from outside filtered in for the seconds the door remained open, and returned to their muted state when Thorin shut the door behind him.

Bilbo sat in his room for a small moment, trying to process exactly what had just happened as well as stifle the tent that had formed in his pants. Bilbo attempted standing once he thought he was organized, but ended up getting his feet tangled in his comforter and falling to the floor. He immediately stood, fixed his hair and checked himself in the mirror before opening the door to his room to see what unexpected party had come to his house today.

He caught the unmistakably familiar laugh from Fili and Kili roar from the kitchen, as well as a chuckle from Balin and the giggle from Ori. He stopped in the archway of his kitchen to find his entire rugby team there, including Gandalf, raiding his kitchen and drinking beer.

Thorin grinned at him from across the room, visibly having taken over as the referee. He looked to Gandalf, who tilted his head in a knowing way and smiled.

"I hope we aren't interrupting anything." he said slowly, raising his eyebrows.

Bilbo fidgeted and looked to Thorin, who was trying to break up some fight over a half-finished box of oreos. "Um,"

"And if we were interrupting something, surely it can wait until your body is more. . . Recovered." The old man winked and let a had rest on Bilbo's shoulder. "Tookish indeed." He mumbled quietly, turning away to address the rest of the company.

Bilbo's entire face had turned red by now, and he was so wound up he nearly shouted when he felt an arm wrap around his waist. Thorin didn't draw away, though, he merely sipped his beer and laughed when someone told him a story about someone chasing a dragon.

At first, the scrumhalf felt a little awkward, being so close to Thorin in front of so many people, but as the night went on, and he consumed more beer, he became more and more comfortable. Soon he was resting his head on one of Thorin's broad shoulders, listening to the tail end of Dwalin's drunken dragon story.

"so, by now, all these poor sods want the treasure, right? So they all end up comin' around and fighin' each other in one huge battle at the base of the mountain." Dwalin swayed as he demonstrated the swing of an axe.

"Who would win?" Ori nearly squeaked, completely entranced by the tale.

"Obviously us." Thorin stated, the sound coming as a deep rumble.

"But not without a cost." Dwalin slurred, "Our own brave leader would be mortally wounded on the battlefield, trying to defend his dwarven honor."

Fili and Kili jumped from their perch on the counter, "If Thorin ends up wounded, we'll protect him." Fili said, a little tipsy.

"To the grave." Kili agreed, thumping his chest and nodding at Thorin.

"Alright then, that means our company gets the treasure and we all get to live however we want." Dwalin laughed, taking another swig from his beer.

Gandalf took the time to lean close to Bilbo and pull him from the crowd and lead him to his room.

"I think it is time you went to bed, Bilbo Baggins. You have had a very eventful week and no doubt you are exhausted.

It was true, Bilbo was too tired to resist and quietly slid into his bed and pulled the covers over him.

"How did you enjoy Dwalin's story?" Gandalf whispered.

"Good."Bilbo had to chuckle at the thought, but there was something that bothered him, "I don't think I would be a dwarf, though."

"Oh?" Gandalf said.

"I'd be something that didn't bother themselves with treasure or jewels, but rather found worth in the little things. Good food, a warm bed, our hearts truly lie are in peace and quiet, and good tilled earth." Bilbo let his eyes flutter closed at the thought. "A hobbit."

Gandalf let out a small sigh, as if he was relieved. "We must sleep now," Gandalf murmured, lightly touching Bilbo's forehead. "There is a long road yet."

And in the moments before he fell asleep, Bilbo couldn't help but think how right the old, grey man with a beard was.