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For Hearts Still Beating

Title: For Hearts Still Beating
Series: Part 10 of Adventures of a Different Kind
Pairings: Kíli/Bilbo
Rating/Warnings: NSFW; semi-public sex, possessiveness, minor kink, rough & frantic sex
Word Count: 4417
Disclaimer: If I owned the Hobbit it would be a porno.  Seriously.
Summary: The one where Bilbo is possessive and everyone finds out.


“Kíli!”

Bilbo sprints across the battlefield, calling for the youngest Durin frantically. He had missed the end of the battle, a stray rock finding him despite the ring he wore. So the burglar doesn't know whether his friends survived, whether his dwarf survived the final showdown, and things had been rather dire for the archer and his kindred when Bilbo saw them last.

If they didn't make it – if Kíli didn't make it – the hobbit doesn't know what he'll do now and none of Dáin's warriors will tell him anything. He has to threaten one young lad with Sting before he gets anything but glares and mutters about the Arkenstone and even that is nothing more than a hand wave toward a group of tents further on. But Bilbo has more important things on his mind than dwarven grudges, his worry growing with every step he takes.

What if Kíli is dead, or Thorin, or all of his companions? Perhaps the princes lost their limbs or eyes or voices to some orcish blade? What if his lover was hit in the head and has forgotten all about him? Or what if the dwarf lost his head and he's lying cold on the battlefield?

So the hobbit is running by the time he reaches the main pavilions, shouting for his lover even as Dáin's guards try to turn him back. But Bilbo just ducks around them, unwilling to wait any longer to discover the fate of those he cares about. The hobbit keeps shouting for Kíli until he finally receives an answer, his name echoing back to him from one of the smaller tents. He bursts through the flap with hope and terror warring in his heart, but it is relief not grief that nearly brings him down.

“Oh, thank Yavanna, you're alive,” Bilbo exclaims, staggering over to a nearby table when his knees threaten to give out. Because Kíli is there, bruised and bloody but unmistakably alive and the hobbit have never seen a more gorgeous sight.

The dwarf seems just as relieved to see Bilbo, waving off the guards who followed him into the tent and then limping over to the burglar as fast as his injuries allow.

“Bilbo! I was worried,” Kíli says, cupping the hobbit's face between his hands. “I couldn't find you on the plain and I never would have forgiven myself if you'd died out there. I should have been with you instead of uncle; I shouldn't have let him banish you when we all knew it wasn't right.”

He looks down at Bilbo, his eyes begging for forgiveness, and while the burglar felt somewhat betrayed at the time, he can't be angry now. Because Kíli is alive and apologizing and that's enough. Indeed, all of this danger has a way of putting life in perspective and the hobbit is tired of shying away from what he really wants. Refusing to acknowledge his feelings doesn't make them disappear and he'll never know if he could have had everything if he never asks.

So Bilbo reaches out, pulling Kíli into the tightest hug that he can manage and murmuring against the archer's chest, “You're forgiven. It's all forgiven now.

“Although, that said, if you ever do anything so completely fucking stupid again, I'll kill you myself,” the burglar adds, glaring up at his lover. “Sting here is quite sharp, you know, and the next time that you run off to fight giant orcs, you had better let me help. Someone has to watch your back when you're being reckless and I quite prefer you breathing, you daft idiot.”

Bilbo means every word, though he isn't entirely sure how he went from forgiveness to scolding so rapidly. However, Kíli doesn't seem to mind the hobbit's sharpness. If anything, it's the opposite because the archer's smile only grows during his lover's rant.

“Well, I do hope that there won't be a next time, my dear Bilbo, but if there is, we have a deal,” the dwarf says, pressing a kiss to the burglar's cheek. “I'm sure our enemies will turn and flee at the sight of us.”

“Good. I don't appreciate being made to worry and I prefer your ass without the stab wounds,” the burglar replies, falling back into snark when the warmth of Kíli's smile threatens to send all of his blood rushing south instead.

As much as Bilbo would like to show his lover exactly how much he was missed, they're still standing in the middle of Dáin's camp and tent walls are rather thin. So the hobbit takes a step back and changes the subject, realizing that he had quite forgotten about the rest of their company in his relief.

“Where are Thorin, Fíli, and the others? Did they make it through as well?” Bilbo is relatively sure that they had since the archer wouldn't be so cheerful if any of his kin had perished, but it's good to have confirmation nonetheless.

Indeed, the last bit of tension in the burglar's shoulders finally eases when Kíli smiles down at him and says, “Yes, thank the Valar; somehow we all survived. Fíli, Balin, and Dáin are dealing with Bard and Thranduil while everyone else helps with the clean up – unfortunately, Thorin took a heavy blow during the battle and he hasn't woken up just yet. But he's always had a hard head and Óin says he should recover soon enough. We were truly lucky, Bilbo; we came so close to losing everything.”

The dwarf is right, this day could have ended in far more blood and sorrow, and the hobbit is about to suggest finding the rest of their company when his lover speaks again.

“I know our friends will be very pleased to know that you're alive,” Kíli tells Bilbo before his earnest expression disappears beneath a crooked grin. “But Fíli isn't expecting me back for at least half an hour and I've got some injuries down my pants here if you want to take a look.”

It's a terrible come on. Indeed, Kíli's waggling eyebrows tell Bilbo that the archer knows it's terrible, but it's so very Kíli that the hobbit has to laugh.

Yet there's also a hesitance in the prince's manner that's confusing Bilbo, his lover's hand hovering over his shoulder without touching him. After everything they've done together, Kíli shouldn't be worried about the burglar's reaction now.

Oh, but of course, Bilbo thinks in sudden realization. I said that he's forgiven but he doesn't know whether I truly mean the words.

“I forgive you and I'm happy you're alive” isn't quite the same as “I forgive you and I still want to have kinky sex constantly.” That terrible proposition was his lover's way of asking just where the hobbit stands and he's struck by an overwhelming fondness for this silly dwarf of his.

So Bilbo leans forward and kisses Kíli soundly. He means it to be quick kiss and nothing more, just enough to reassure the archer that their bond is still intact. But when their lips touch, Kíli lets out a soft moan and melts against him and that plan changes in a flash. Because the hobbit isn’t very good at resisting temptation when it's offered and there's so much temptation to be had.

Thus he kisses the prince more fiercely, pushing him backward against the small table that he'd been leaning on. While it's not the sturdiest of surfaces, it will have to do since the hobbit cannot be bothered to look for something better now.

Not when all of his pent up worry has suddenly found another outlet, a firestorm igniting in his blood. Bilbo thought it was enough to know that his lover was still breathing, but clearly he was mistaken and Kíli is no less frantic as he whispers endearments against the burglar's mouth. Bilbo and Kíli don't remove each other's clothes so much as shred them, at least one button flying off into parts unknown. The hobbit needs his lover naked. He needs to feel the prince's heartbeat beneath his fingers, bury himself in warmth until there can be no doubt that this is real.

This is real, they are together, and their happiness is no fevered dream brought on by his injury. Indeed, Bilbo doesn't think that he could bear it if he woke again upon the hillside and discovered that all of this was only a pleasant fantasy.

But what few doubts remained at the neatness of this ending are quickly chased away by the taste of his lover on his tongue, Bilbo sliding into the vee of Kíli's legs as though he'd never left. The dwarf hooks one ankle around Bilbo's waist to pull him even closer, fingers tangling in the burglar's hair to slant their lips together one more time.

Kíli's tunic is hanging awkwardly off his shoulders now, only a few stubborn strips of cloth keeping it from falling, and one determined tug from Bilbo makes quick work of it. He wants to feel skin beneath his hands, wants to lick and suck and taste his way down his lover's body, but the sight that greets the hobbit stops him short instead. It's not the bandages, though Kíli's chest is wrapped with far too many and the burglar would have ended things then if there had been crimson bleeding through.

Bilbo's desire will never be stronger than his protectiveness and while his lover's bandages are clean, the hobbit almost ends this encounter anyway. It's the bruises that give him pause, nearly every inch of the archer's skin covered in one mark or another, a record of the blows that tried to bring him down.

But such bruises aren't going to kill Kíli and the longer that Bilbo stares at them, the more his concern is replaced with something else instead. Something that makes the hobbit's fingers tighten on Kíli's shoulders, the thought of the dwarf so marked by others completely unacceptable. The prince is his just as he is Kíli's and no two-bit orc has earned the right to leave such signs on him.

So Bilbo pushes the archer back until he's laying flat on the table and then sinks his teeth into the darkest bruise upon his lover's skin. Kíli shudders at the bite, his broken groan a mix of pain and pleasure that takes the hobbit's breath away. But the dwarf doesn't try to stop Bilbo, just arches into his touch with abandon, and the burglar can only accept this gift with the reverence it deserves.

He trails his mouth across Kíli's chest, pausing at every scratch and bruise and covering them with new marks of his own. Bilbo means to wipe out the memory of hurt with adoration, the memory of pain with pleasure, every inch of his lover's skin marked with ownership.

And the archer lets him, his moans growing more desperate each time the hobbit's teeth touch flesh again. Kíli allows Bilbo to mark him, hands clutching at the burglar's shoulders without demanding anything and Bilbo only pulls back when the prince's entire body belongs to him again.

“Mine,” he murmurs, pressing one hand to Kíli's chest to feel the beating of his heart. It's pounding quickly now, his blood running as hot as Bilbo's, and the hobbit's restraint erodes with every wild thump. Usually he likes to tease his lover until the dwarf is begging, but he doesn't have the self-control with the shadow of the battle on his mind.

So Bilbo just thanks Yavanna for the dwarven obsession with polishing weapons and swipes a jaw of oil from the axe stand in the corner of the tent before rushing back to the archer's side again. Every second away from his lover is a second much too long and the dwarf clearly feels the same.

Kíli grabs the hobbit as soon as he's in reach, wrapping his arms around Bilbo's shoulders and murmuring sweetly in his ear. “I need you inside of me, Bilbo. I need you to love me hard and rough so I can feel your touch for weeks. Bruise me, bleed me; just give me everything. Show the world where I belong. Show everyone exactly where I'm meant to be.”

The burglar has never heard his lover sound quite like this before, the archer's desperation driven by something more than need. While Kíli has begged when driven to the edge of ecstasy and begged quite fiercely, he's never asked to be claimed so openly before.

He's never asked for pain but now he seems to crave it, the sharpness proving that he's still alive. Proving that both their hearts are beating and Bilbo cannot deny him now. He doesn't want to deny him anything.

So the hobbit slicks his fingers just enough to keep from damaging his lover and then presses them into Kíli, the archer pushing back against him with a groan. Bilbo prepares the dwarf with quick and efficient motions and he knows it's still too little, but Kíli is growling impatiently by the time he pulls his fingers out.

“Just fuck me, Bilbo. Shove your dick inside my ass and fuck me 'til I scream...” Kíli's words trail off into a gasp when Bilbo slicks his length and then does exactly as the prince demands. He shoves inside his lover, thrusting to the hilt without waiting for the archer to adjust.

Kíli is tight, so very tight around his cock. But they've done this enough that his lover opens for him, inch by grueling inch, and only pleads for more.

So Bilbo grabs the dwarf's hips for leverage as he begins to drive into his lover, as hard and fast and thorough as he can. Every thrust shoves the table forward a few inches, the hobbit hoping that he'll manage to finish before they run into the wall.

But that's a distant worry when Kíli is bucking underneath him, rolling his hips into the burglar's thrusts and shrieking whenever he gets the angle right. The archer's hands are everywhere, digging into Bilbo's shoulders and leaving his own set of scratches across the hobbit's back. There will be marks later, bruises to match those that the hobbit left on Kíli, and the sting only makes Bilbo fuck his lover harder now.

Soon the dwarf starts to shake beneath him, Kíli's moans turning into a broken polyglot, and there's nothing Bilbo wants more than to watch him fall apart. So the burglar wraps one hand around his lover's shaft and strokes him roughly, squeezing just to the edge of pain. Then he leans down to sink his teeth into the archer's shoulder, Kíli coming with a ragged shout.

The prince shudders around him, every muscle tightening as Bilbo drives in even deeper, grinding his hips against his lover's ass until he comes as well.

His orgasm hits him like a blow, worry and possessiveness pouring out of him in one wild rush. Indeed, the pleasure is almost secondary next to the release of tension for only now is everything truly all right with the world. Now that Kíli is lying underneath him, smiling, satisfied and dripping with his seed.

So the hobbit leans down to kiss his lover softly, this kiss an affirmation rather than a prelude to something more. It's gentle and affectionate in sharp contrast to the sex that they just finished and of course, this is when the table that they're lying on suddenly collapses to the ground.

Kíli and Bilbo land with a thud, the dwarf looking rather stunned for a moment before he starts to laugh. He laughs so hard that he starts crying, gasping out a sentence between his guffaws.

“We... have to... stop... breaking... the furniture...”

“That we do,” Bilbo agrees with a chuckle of his own before deciding that he'll never have a better opening. So he waits until Kíli finally catches his breath and then adds with a sly wink, “But, you know, hobbits build things sturdy. If the company didn't break my table that first evening then nothing ever will.”

It takes Kíli a moment to catch Bilbo's underlying meaning, but when he does, his eyes light up with glee. The hobbit's not sure if he's ever seen his lover smile quite that widely – perhaps during one of those lazy mornings back in Laketown before they broke that bed as well.

“You can have me on every flat surface in Bag End,” the dwarf promises fervently and Bilbo couldn't ask for a better yes than that.

Which is his excuse for how they end up making out in the wreckage of the table until they're interrupted by a knock on one of the poles near the entrance of the tent. “Brother? Are you decent yet?”

Bilbo and Kíli trade identical wide-eyed glances, freezing where they lie. But after one panicked second, the archer's mind catches up to his body and his expression relaxes once again.

“It's just Fíli. We'll be fine,” the prince whispers, grinning up at Bilbo reassuringly. Then he nudges the hobbit to his feet and follows after, stalling his brother with a shouted, “Give us a second, Fíli. I'm still, um, wrapping bandages back here.”

The dwarf and the hobbit get dressed in record time, using bits of rope to replace lost buttons and keep Bilbo's trousers up. However, Kíli's tunic is a lost cause, the dwarf forced to borrow the burglar's cloak instead. He wraps it around his shoulders as though it were silk instead of wool, somehow managing to look both regal and ridiculous. The hobbit can't help but mourn a bit to see the marks of his possession covered, but at least the evidence of their recent activities is somewhat less obvious before they tell Fíli to come in.

Of course, the other dwarf still takes one look at his brother and sighs heavily. “Seriously, Kíli? You couldn't have waited until we were off the battlefield at least?”

He doesn't sound surprised, just exasperated, rolling his eyes when the younger prince only smirks, “Sorry, Fíli. It was now or never and I don't regret a thing.”

“You may be changing your mind about that in a second, little brother. Uncle woke up during this latest escapade and he wants to see you now. Both of you,” Fíli says pointedly, eyes flicking to the rope wrapped around the burglar's waist.

“He's awake? That's fantastic,” Kíli exclaims even as terror strikes Bilbo's dumb. The hobbit's last encounter with Thorin wasn't exactly peaceful and if the dwarf lord really heard Bilbo having sex with his nephew, who knows how he'll react? So he's close to hyperventilating by the time his lover notices his panic and reaches out to take his hand.

“Hey, are you up for this?” the archer asks, looking down at Bilbo in concern. “I know we were a little loud, but I can handle Thorin; I promise. Uncle has certain blind spots where me and Fíli are concerned. But if you aren't ready to face him yet, I understand.”

Although the burglar is tempted to take the escape that Kíli's offered, his lover looks so hopeful that he doesn't have the heart. Besides, Bilbo will have to face the dwarf lord's wrath eventually since he has no intention of giving up his nephew, so the hobbit finds his courage somewhere and squares his shoulders one more time.

“I'm ready if you are,” the burglar says, squeezing his lover's hand.

“Deal,” Kíli replies, leaning in to kiss Bilbo again even as Fíli rolls his eyes. “Just let me do the talking, love, and I promise Thorin will be giving us his blessing 'fore I'm done.”

That seems a bit too much to hope for but the hobbit is perfectly happy to follow his lover's lead anyway. Particularly when Fíli waves Bilbo and Kíli into the next pavilion over and he sees the expression in the dwarf lord's eyes.

Thorin may have broken free of treasure madness but listening to Bilbo debauch his nephew clearly has him close to homicidal now. He looks quite prepared to rip the hobbit's throat out, only his injuries and Óin's firm hand on his shoulder keeping him in bed. In fact, most of the company is there, a mix of shock and amusement visible in their eyes.

But Kíli just greets them all with a brilliant grin before turning to his uncle, ignoring the open rage on Thorin's face, “It's good to see you, uncle. I was starting to worry that you'd never wake again.”

The dwarf lord seems somewhat taken aback by the archer's cheer, though Bilbo winces guiltily enough for both of them when Thorin says, “Yes, Kíli, I'm awake now and I'd like to know exactly what I was hearing from your tent. You know that a son of Durin must be honorable and proper in all things and that, I fear, was neither.”

The hobbit is close to breaking beneath that disappointed glare alone, ready to throw himself on Thorin's mercy and hope for the best. But before he can say anything, Kíli speaks up again, his eyes wide and innocent.

“Oh, did we wake you, uncle? Bilbo here was helping me treat my injuries and I'm afraid I got a little loud when he hit the sorest spots.”

It's such a blatant lie that the hobbit can hardly believe his lover said it; he certainly wouldn't have dared to attempt that lie himself. But despite his nephew's distinctly sex-ruffled appearance, Thorin's face clears almost instantly.

“Aah, that explains it. I knew that I must have been mistaken about what I thought I heard. You should be more aware of your reputation, Kíli; you will make people think that you're not still virginal.”

At this, Bilbo nearly loses it and the rest of his company is no better off. Half the dwarves are gaping while the other half are clearly trying not to cackle and none of them can believe that Thorin actually bought Kíli's excuse. However, when Balin opens his mouth to interject, probably to question the dwarf lord's sanity, Thorin cuts him off.

“Still. Virginal. Balin,” the dwarf growls, his tone promising dire consequences if anyone questions him. “Fíli and Kíli both.”

Honestly, the only dwarves who don't seem surprised by Thorin's statement are his nephews, Fíli's expression a picture of fond exasperation even as Kíli beams with glee. This must be exactly what the prince expected to happen and given the level of denial that Thorin just exhibited, he'd probably have to walk in on his nephew in flagrante to believe that he isn't a virgin anymore.

So the hobbit does his best to keep a straight face when the dwarf lord offers him an apologetic bow, “Master Baggins, I have done you a disservice. I should have known that you were only trying to aid my family in this as in all things. Indeed, I would take back the words I spoke in anger on the gate and have us part with our bond of friendship now restored.”

“Yeah... sure. I mean, of course,” Bilbo stammers before returning Thorin's bow. The burglar is usually more composed than this but the last few days have rather thrown his calm off kilter and at this point, he's really just winging it. But this is far from the strangest thing that's happened on their journey and he's not going to wreck his good fortune now.

Though his nerves would probably rest easier if Kíli stopped pushing his uncle's boundaries, the hobbit nearly jumping out of his skin when his lover wraps an arm around his waist.

“Speaking of bonds,” the archer says with a smile that Bilbo can feel upon his skin. “I've grown quite fond of Bilbo here over the course of our journey and I would ask for your blessing, uncle, to make our burglar my spouse.”

The rest of the company looks shocked again, probably never anticipating that their feckless prince would want to marry anyone. Which is kind of insulting actually. Kíli may be something of a cock slut but that doesn't mean that he's disloyal; he just needed a lover who wouldn't get boring in a week. It's hardly the prince's fault that he's adventurous in bed.

That's the way I like him, Bilbo thinks, taking the archer's hand in solidarity as they wait for Thorin to speak his part.

“He is what you want, nephew?” the dwarf lord asks eventually.

“Yes, uncle. More than anything.”

“And you, Master Baggins. Do you feel as strongly for Kíli as he does for you?”

“Yes, Thorin. I believe I do.”

“All right. You may have my blessing on your marriage, nephew. Though if your husband does not treat you properly, he will face the wrath of Erebor.”

It's a good threat, particularly when supported by Thorin's ever-terrifying glare. But to tell the truth, Bilbo hardly notices the words because he's suddenly realized that he hasn't told Kíli that he loves him, something that seems like quite an oversight considering their current circumstance.

So the hobbit just whispers a heartfelt thank you before pulling Kíli into a tight embrace. He holds the archer close and murmurs, “I hope you know I love you,” even as the rest of the company breaks into a rousing cheer. But what really makes Bilbo grin like an idiot is the answering smile on his lover's face.

“Don't worry, I love you too,” Kíli says before dropping his voice to a whisper so that the other dwarves can't hear. “I don't let just anyone tie me up like that, you know.”

The burglar has to laugh then, a wild peal of joy that barely touches the emotion in his heart. Bilbo never imagined that he'd end up here when their quest first started; he never imagined that Kíli would actually want him when he first saw the archer all those months ago. But apparently the burglar really is the luckiest fool on Middle Earth because he has his dwarf and his dwarf has him and they're going to christen half the Shire on their honeymoon.

Indeed, as Balin and Fíli jump straight into wedding planning, Bilbo's finds himself wondering, I wonder how Kíli feels about sex under waterfalls.


End