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A Thousand Kisses Deep

Title: A Thousand Kisses Deep
Pairings: Kíli/Bilbo
Ratings/Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, sex in front of mirrors, nothing too out there
Word Count: 5182
Disclaimer: If I owned the Hobbit everyone would live.  And have wild sex.


Bilbo didn't remember much about the battle. He remembered blood and screams and watching with horror as Thorin and his nephews fell. The hobbit remembered running forward, Sting glowing brightly in his hand, and Bolg laughing cruelly before he collapsed beneath a piercing agony. He remembered Beorn's roar and Kíli's scream, then nothing until he woke up three days later with a very worried dwarf sitting at his bedside and a bandage on his chest.

The healers told Bilbo that Bolg had nearly killed him and the hobbit could believe it since even breathing hurt. But his reckless charge had kept the orc from killing Fíli and Kíli long enough for Beorn to arrive with reinforcements and he would have gladly died for that.

Indeed, the burglar rarely considered his wound except to curse his limitations; there was far too much to do in the battle's aftermath and Bilbo could not sit by idly. The hobbit decided to take inventory of the Lonely Mountain’s storerooms since he couldn’t help with the rebuilding and Kíli found him sleeping in those rooms more than once. There was always one more shelf to search, one more box of mushrooms, and Bilbo had gotten quite good at sleeping standing up.

But eventually what could be done was finished. Erebor was livable again and the dead had all been buried. Most of Dáin's people returned to the Iron Hills while the Mirkwood elves and the men of Dale turned their thoughts to their own homes. Life went on despite the battle and it would take many years before the eastern kingdoms were truly prosperous again.

Bilbo didn’t know if he would see that in his lifetime, but for now he was focused on the present. Because the healers had finally given him permission to remove his bandages at last and the burglar was looking forward to having a real bath. Washrags simply hadn’t been the same at all.

The hobbit wanted to bathe and he also intended to spend some proper time with Kíli as soon as possible. He and the dwarf had been so busy that they'd barely seen each other over the last few weeks, nothing but quick goodnight kisses before they'd fallen into bed and gone to sleep. As much as he enjoyed waking up next to the archer, Bilbo was starting to crave more carnal things.

With that thought in mind, the hobbit grabbed a change of clothes from his rooms and headed to the hot springs that fed the heart of Erebor. Bilbo knew that these springs supplied power, heat, and water to the dwarven kingdom, though how exactly it all worked had gone over the burglar’s head. All Bilbo really cared about was the fact that some springs were used for bathing and he was more than ready to be clean right now.

“Have you been waiting long?” the hobbit asked when he arrived at the entrance to the springs and found Kíli standing there.

“Not long at all,” the archer said, leaning down to greet his lover with a kiss. “Come on, we should have at least an hour before someone else shows up.”

Kíli took Bilbo’s hand and led him into the main bathing chamber, which was an architectural marvel in the hobbit’s eyes. There was piped water for washing, hot pools for soaking, larger pools for swimming and mosaics of tiles covering every wall; Bilbo had been looking forward to the day that he could put aside his washrag and actually jump in. But to his surprise, Kíli kept walking. The dwarf walked through a short tunnel and into a smaller chamber that the burglar had never seen before.

“Oh my,” the hobbit breathed. This chamber held another hot spring with soap for washing and shelves to leave his clothing, but what made Bilbo gasp in awe was the shining silver glass that spanned the room's far wall.

The hobbit had never seen such a large mirror before – even the richest families in the Shire only owned small hand mirrors – and he couldn't imagine the skill that it had taken to blow such a piece of glass.

“It's so clear. It's amazing,” Bilbo murmured, waving his hand and watching as his image did the same.

“Not all of Erebor's treasures are made of gold and silver,” Kíli told him with a grin. “Fíli showed me this room a while back and I thought that you would like it. Plus we'll still have some privacy if another dwarf decides to take a bath right now.”

“Privacy sounds good,” Bilbo agreed, distracted from his reflection when the dwarf started to undress. The mirror might be a masterwork but it would still be there in an hour and he hadn't seen Kíli naked in too long.

So the hobbit stripped off his jacket and waistcoat before moving to help the archer with his tunic; his lover had an incredible ability to get his buttons tangled in his hair. Thankfully Bilbo had had a lot of practice at sorting out this problem and the burglar took a moment to appreciate the view before setting to his task.

Kíli had only gained muscle during the rebuilding, though he still carried the long lean lines that the hobbit loved so much. Of course, Bilbo found everything about his dwarf attractive. Even that dusky tan was natural whereas the burglar was gradually growing paler with each week spent underground.

It’s so unfair, the hobbit thought as he ran his hand up Kíli's stomach. I look like I’m made of marble next to him. Seriously, how did I ever manage to win a dwarf like this?

Bilbo didn't know the answer. Their relationship had developed without any conscious effort on his part. They'd just talked and laughed and saved each other's lives half a dozen times over the course of their journey and then they'd fallen into bed together where they'd laughed and talked some more. Falling in love with Kíli had been as easy as breathing, his heart long gone by the time he'd noticed, and Bilbo only had to look at his dwarf’s smile to know he felt the same. Kíli had always worn his emotions clearly and there was no mistaking the adoration in his eyes.

“What? Is there something on my face?” the archer asked when he finally managed to pull his tunic off.

“No, my dear. I'm just very glad I met you,” Bilbo said, stroking his hands over Kíli's shoulders as he leaned up to kiss the dwarf again.

“I'm very glad I met you too,” Kíli told him. “And we can talk about it if you really want to. But I was rather hoping to lay you naked on that bench there and fuck you 'til you scream.”

“Yes. Fuck yes,” the hobbit groaned as a rush of heat washed through him. Kíli was young but he was not remotely shy and the filthy way he talked when they were alone together always drove the burglar insane.

“You like that, Bilbo?” the archer asked with a smirk. “You want me to spread you open on my fingers while I swallow down your cock? Should I tease you until you're begging, lost to heat and pleasure on this wicked tongue of mine? Or would you rather I just fuck you? You must be starving for my dick after all these weeks of nothing. I could lay you down and feed it to you and I bet that you'd just take it; swallow everything I gave you and simply beg for more.”

Kíli kissed the hobbit then, devoured him with heat and filthy promise as Bilbo pulled his lover closer. One of his hands clutched the dwarf's shoulder while the other gripped the hair on Kíli's chest.

His fingers tightened and the archer growled in answer, a low rumble that the hobbit could feel all through his bones. His lover attacked Bilbo's mouth with new fervor and the burglar moaned when the hard line of Kíli's cock pressed against his hip. The dwarf was right; he wanted it. He wanted everything.

“Naked. I need you naked,” Kíli groaned. His hands scrabbled at the hobbit's tunic, trying to remove it while still kissing Bilbo senseless. That didn’t work so well and eventually the hobbit decided that enough was enough; kissing was great but sex was so much better. So the next time they broke for air, Bilbo nudged the archer back a step and pulled off his shirt in one quick move.

“Oh, your bandages... Do you want me to remove them?” Kíli asked. His offer would have been sweet except that he stopped moving and at this point, Bilbo didn't think he'd care if he was actually bleeding out as long as he got to touch the archer now.

“Later,” the hobbit growled, pushing Kíli back against the wall. He dropped to his knees to unlace his lover's trousers and he felt rather gratified when the concern in the dwarf's eyes was replaced by heat again.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Bilbo murmured when Kíli's cock finally bobbed free. The dwarf was average length but thick around just the way the hobbit liked it and his mouth was already watering.

“Fuck,” Kíli moaned as Bilbo wrapped one hand around his cock to hold it steady. The burglar pulled back his lover’s foreskin and then leaned in to taste. A little sharp and bitter at the tip, then lower to heat and salt and the musky scent of the archer on his tongue. Bilbo sucked lightly, his lips tight around Kíli's cock as the dwarf ran strong fingers through his hair.

“Just like that, amrâlimê,” the archer murmured when the hobbit bobbed his head. “Fuck yes, just like that.”

The hobbit teased his lover, taking a little more of Kíli's cock each time. He swallowed around the shaft and then pulled back to lick the tip instead. The dwarf jerked as Bilbo stroked his fingers down his length, his fingers clenching in the burglar hair. But he was still gentle even when the hobbit swirled his tongue around the head of Kíli's shaft and then worked his way back down, slurping and moaning until his face was pressed into the archer's crotch.

Bilbo looked up at the dwarf, meeting Kíli's eyes and smirking at the wrecked expression on his face. Then the hobbit started sucking harder, lips and tongue and fingers driving his lover wild. His own cock throbbed with each broken curse that left the archer's mouth.

His length was pressing against the front of his trousers, hard enough to strain the laces and the hobbit groaned helplessly when he finally took himself in hand. Bilbo stroked his length as he sucked Kíli's, bringing both of them closer to release.

“Bilbo, wait.”

The burglar stopped with the head of the dwarf's cock between his lips, his tongue teasing at the archer's slit. Kíli's length was dripping now, bitter liquid sliding down his throat and leaking from the edges of his mouth. The hobbit glanced up and found his lover's eyes dark with hunger.

“Can I? Please?” Kíli asked, fingers tugging Bilbo's hair. His hips pushed forward, driving his cock a little deeper before pulling back again. “Please, amrâlimê. I just want to fuck your pretty lips wide open. Can I fuck your mouth?”

Such an odd mix of filth and earnestness; Bilbo always wanted to give his lover everything when he talked to him like that. He wanted to see the dwarf let himself fall into complete debauchery. So the hobbit pulled off Kíli's length with a wet pop, bracing one hand on the wall and leaving the other wrapped loosely round his cock.

“All right, love. Give it to me,” the burglar said. He locked his gaze on Kíli's face and then opened up his mouth. The archer's eyes were wide, nothing but pupil, and his expression was almost wondering.

“Durin, look at you,” Kíli murmured, holding the hobbit still as he fed his cock between his lips. Slowly at first, testing the limits of his lover's control before snapping his hips forward suddenly. The dwarf's pace was brutal but Bilbo just relaxed his throat and took it, stroking himself every time Kíli's cock rubbed against his lips. Heat built beneath his skin with every jagged thrust, the ache in his jaw feeding the pleasure as his lover's voice washed over him.

“You take it so well, Bilbo,” the dwarf growled, hands flexing against the hobbit's head. “Valar, but the way you let me use you. I want to see you begging, your mouth rubbed slick and red. I want to paint your lips with seed so that I can suck it off them later, taste myself upon your tongue.”

Kíli punctuated each word with another thrust of his hips, cock knocking against the back of Bilbo's throat. He gagged a little, spit and pre-cum dribbling down the corner of his mouth. But the hobbit recovered quickly, keeping his eyes on his lover's face.

Bilbo loved watching Kíli like this, loved watching the dwarf's control unravel piece by piece. His movements grew rougher, the tide of words devolving into gasps and dwarvish curses as he chased after his release. The archer was close now, his fingers tight in Bilbo's hair and his head thrown back in bliss.

So on the next thrust, the burglar grabbed his lover's hips and sucked hard, working his lips around the archer's cock until he lost control. Kíli's body snapped taut with a cry and he spilled into Bilbo's mouth, the hobbit struggling to swallow fast enough.

Then the dwarf's knees buckled and his cock slipped free as he slid down the wall. Kíli really was unfairly gorgeous; even sweaty, red and panting, he made Bilbo's breath catch in his chest. The burglar’s eyes trailed across firm muscles and the long line of his throat until he met his lover's eyes.

Suddenly Bilbo had his arms full of Kíli; the archer kissed him hard, turning promise into reality as he sucked the remnants of his seed off Bilbo's lips. He took the hobbit's bottom lip between his teeth and bit it gently before thrusting his tongue into the burglar's mouth. He mapped every corner, chasing his own taste, and Bilbo groaned when the dwarf's hand found his cock.

Kíli twined their fingers together and stroked the hobbit quickly, relentlessly, until the pleasure built too high. The burglar gasped and came, burying his face in the archer's shoulder as lights danced behind his eyes. His lover just kissed him through it, holding Bilbo until he stopped trembling.

“Damn, I've missed you,” the dwarf whispered. “But I think I was supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around. Our healers gave me very detailed instructions, don't you know?”

“I really hope my healers didn't give you advice about our sex life,” Bilbo chuckled softly.

“Clearly you don't know Lady Gildda very well. Although, I can honestly say that blow jobs never did come up.”

“Well, don't worry. You'll have your chance to wreck me as soon as I recover. I still have my pants on so we're not finished yet.”

“Good to know,” Kíli laughed. “If you want help getting naked, I'll be happy to oblige. But I should probably wash my hand first or you're going to have some suspicious looking stains on the back of your trousers. Best to avoid that since mother will give us such a scolding if we cause another scandal; the nobles already have too much cause to gossip in her eyes.”

“Fair enough,” Bilbo agreed because Lady Dís was terrifying in a temper; the dwarrowdam was much like her brother in disposition after all.

So the hobbit pushed himself to his feet and went to scrub his hands in one of the washing buckets. He rinsed his face as well before taking off his trousers and laying them on one of the shelves along the wall. While Kíli did his own scrubbing, Bilbo tracked down their tunics – one dangerously close to falling in the hot springs – and folded them as well.

When he turned back around, the hobbit caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Bilbo looked well on his way to debauchery already, his hair sticking up in all directions from his lover's hands.

But then the bright white stripe of his bandages caught his eye again. He'd forgotten they were there in the heat of the moment but now that he was reminded, Bilbo was more than ready to have them taken off.

“Hey, Kíli. Can you help me with these?”

“Of course,” Kíli told him, coming up behind the hobbit and unraveling his bandages with deft and careful hands.

Bilbo watched in the mirror as each loop fell, revealing skin so pale it almost glowed. He seemed to have grown even whiter somehow and he might have to go sit shirtless in the sun to keep from feeling like a ghost.

“Just a little more,” the archer murmured. “There we go.”

The remainder of the hobbit's bandages came off all at once and suddenly all he could see was the ugly pink scar slashing across his chest. It was enormous, reaching nearly from hip to shoulder, and the sight reminded Bilbo far too vividly of blood spilling on the snow. Not just his, but Kíli's, and the utter certainty that they were both about to die.

“That's...”

“...Hideous,” Bilbo finished for his lover, turning his head away so he didn't have to see.

“Hey, now. That is not what I planned to say,” Kíli chided him gently. “You still look good to me.”

“You must be joking,” the hobbit spit out. “You can't possibly think that I look better now. I may not have been stunning at the start of our journey but at least I didn't have this massive bloody scar.”

Kíli wrapped an arm around the hobbit's waist. He pressed in close, resting his chin on Bilbo's shoulder and taking his jaw in hand so that the hobbit had to look him in the eye.

“Not better or worse, just different,” the archer said, holding Bilbo's gaze. “I see this scar and I’m grateful for it because it means you're still alive. You were strong enough to take such a deep wound and keep going. Most people would have fallen but you’re still with me now.”

There was nothing in Kíli's voice but admiration, nothing but adoration in his eyes. However, even though Bilbo couldn't doubt the dwarf's sincerity, he couldn't quite believe him either. Kíli couldn't possibly find his scar attractive; Bilbo certainly didn't feel attractive anymore.

“Let me show you, darling,” the dwarf murmured in his lover's ear, the hobbit shivering when one firm hand stroked down his chest. “Let me prove that you still drive me wild, that the sight of you still lights a fire in my loins. Because I think you're gorgeous, scars and all.”

Teeth nipped the burglar's earlobe, sending a sharp spike of pleasure through his body. He tilted his head, offering Kíli better access as the archer started kissing down his throat.

“If you're sure, love,” Bilbo murmured, giving voice to the permission that his body had allowed. He might not understand Kíli's reaction but he had missed the archer dearly and he would take what he could get.

Still, Bilbo felt obliged to offer, “I can put my shirt on if you like.”

“No!” the archer growled. “No, I told you... You don’t need to hide your scars; I want you as you are. Your wounds just mean that you've been living instead of hiding from the world.”

Kíli pressed his groin against Bilbo's ass, his cock a hard line nudging between the hobbit's cheeks. The dwarf definitely wasn't lying about that.

“You saved me, Bilbo,” Kíli continued as his hands mapped his lover's body. “You saved me and my brother with your courage; you probably saved us all and so that scar could never be an ill reminder in my eyes. I see your scar and I want to give you everything, reward you as a hero of Erebor deserves. Because I love you and I admire you and I could happily spend the rest of my life showing you exactly what I mean. I want to drive you to the heights of ecstasy.”

Bilbo had no words. He could only throw back his head and moan when Kíli took hold of his shaft. The dwarf stroked him steadily, thumb sliding over the head of the hobbit's dick. With each motion, his hand grew a little slicker, his grip a little tighter, skin sliding smoothly over skin.

Bilbo was fully hard again, his hips bucking into the archer's hand. He rocked forward with each stroke and then back into Kíli, the dwarf's breath hitching when Bilbo rubbed against his shaft.

But then Kíli pulled his hips away and the burglar let out a moan of disappointment at the loss of friction, his back cold without his lover’s presence there.

“Sorry, amrâlimê,” Kíli murmured. “But I have bigger plans.”

Bilbo opened his mouth to retort but his witticism disappeared into another moan as slick fingers danced across his hole. One pressed against his entrance but refused to push inside while the other stroked the skin behind his balls.

“Damn tease,” Bilbo groaned, caught between this touch and the hand around his cock. He couldn't decide whether to thrust forward or backwards and his lover was no help at all. Although the hobbit couldn't see Kíli's smile, he could feel it pressed against his neck.

However, the hobbit forgave the archer’s teasing in an instant when he finally pushed a finger into him. The dwarf's hand were large and felt even larger, Bilbo's body protesting the stretch after so long without. But the slight burn was quickly lost to pleasure as Kíli added another finger and then twisted. He sought out every point that made his lover gasp while his other hand continued to stroke the hobbit's shaft.

He took Bilbo apart, teasing and stretching and nipping until the burglar could only moan and shudder underneath his hands. Soon Kíli was able to push three fingers into Bilbo without any resistance, the burglar twitching helplessly when the dwarf ran a fourth along his swollen rim.

Bilbo was burning up, Kíli's hands igniting his skin everywhere they touched. Inside and out, each thrust threatened to blind the hobbit with a new wave of desire as heat pooled inside his gut.

The burglar reached back, tangling his fingers in Kíli's hair. He needed something to hold on to, an anchor to stop himself from letting go too soon. He didn't want to lose control until his lover was buried deep inside him; this time they would fall together into bliss.

But it was difficult when the dwarf knew exactly how to make him shudder and a litany of endearments was being whispered in his ear. Bilbo couldn't focus on the words but that didn't really matter as the low rumble of Kíli's voice washed over him. With each inhale, his lover's chest moved against his back and warm breath fluttered on his neck.

“Just a little more,” Kíli murmured as the tip of his little finger slipped in beside the others. He pushed forward slowly but Bilbo was out of patience. The hobbit thrust his hips back, taking several inches in one quick rush.

“Fuck,” he moaned. There wasn't any pain, just another wave of pleasure and as far as the hobbit was concerned, he'd waited long enough.

“Come on!”

“All right, love. You've made your point,” Kíli replied, sounding almost as wrecked as Bilbo felt.

The dwarf removed his fingers and grabbed onto the hobbit's hips, pulling his lover along as he took a few steps backward to sit on the closest bench. Kíli maneuvered Bilbo so that he was standing over the archer's lap, guiding him into position and then tugging him off his feet.

Gravity did the rest at that point and Bilbo could only gasp as he slid down his lover's cock. The dwarf was thicker than his fingers. He filled the hobbit with a solid line of heat and Bilbo rocked his hips, reveling in the feeling when he settled down on Kíli's lap. The hobbit turned his head to kiss his lover and the dwarf's arms wrapped around him, pulling them closer together as they licked into each other's mouths.

Kíli kissed like he did everything – with unbridled enthusiasm and a fair bit of skill – his tongue dancing delicately over Bilbo's parted lips. The hobbit answered him in kind and their mouths slid together filthily.

He was drowning in his lover, lost to touch and taste and the scorching heat of Kíli all around him and he could only pant when the archer finally pulled away. He leaned his head back against the dwarf's shoulder, perfectly content to just feel the stretch of his lover's cock inside him. But then Kíli started to speak his name insistently.

What?” Bilbo muttered after the third or fourth repetition, slightly irritated that the dwarf insisted on talking when he should be fucking the hobbit blind already; how the hell was Kíli even coherent anyway? Dwarven stamina was frankly ridiculous at times.

“I'm not quite finished, amrâlimê,” the archer murmured. “I need you to look up.”

“Huh?”

“Look at the mirror,” Kíli repeated. “And then I'll ride you hard just like you're craving, hard enough that you'll be limping for a week.”

Bilbo's cock twitched at his lover's words and with a promise like that, how could he refuse?

So Bilbo looked up and regretted it immediately. Because the mirror reflected everything and the hobbit had never seen what he looked like in the throes of lust before. His cock flushed red and angry, his hair a tangled mess, and a splotchy pink blush marking up his skin.

He looked like a disaster and not the good kind – but it was the hobbit's scar that made him cringe. The slash across his chest stood out even more against the red flush of his skin, large and ugly and inescapable.

You still don't believe me, do you?” Kíli asked him. He spread his legs, pushing Bilbo's knees apart until the hobbit was splayed wide across his lap. His back arched as the dwarf's cock seemed to thrust even deeper into him. “You still don't believe that you're fucking beautiful. But you are, amrâlimê. In my eyes, you're gorgeous and this scar's the crowning jewel. Can't you feel it, love? Can't you feel how hard I am – how hard you've made me now?”

The burglar glanced up at this, he couldn't help it, and when he met Kíli's eyes in the mirror, his remaining doubts were blown away by a sudden rush of heat.

All Bilbo could see was desire in the dwarf’s expression; all he could feel was Kíli's length pulsing inside him as his lover’s gaze roamed across his skin. Suddenly the hobbit didn't care that he wasn't actually attractive. The only thing that mattered was that Kíli somehow thought differently.

"Oh, I can feel you, Kíli,” the hobbit breathed in wonder. He might not be able to see himself as Kíli did but he had to trust that the dwarf knew what he wanted and if he looked at them together, his reflection didn’t seem so terrible. Together he and Kíli made something beautiful, something worthy of a prince of Erebor.

So Bilbo began to move, watching Kíli’s face in the mirror as he ground down onto the archer’s cock. He didn't have enough leverage to ride his lover properly but there was something to be said for the slow drag of skin on skin. He kept this up for almost minute before Kíli ran out of patience, the dwarf's hands wrapping around the burglar’s waist. His lover lifted him up and then dropped him down again, snapping his hips forward to drive his cock in deep. Because Kíli always kept his promises and he gave Bilbo exactly what he wanted, fucking the hobbit hard, fast, and thoroughly.

He drove out every thought but yes and fuck and more and when the hobbit started begging, Kíli was happy to oblige. Every thrust of his hips made the bench rock underneath them, grunts and moans bouncing loudly off the walls.

Bilbo wrapped one hand around his dick and he was lost, his back arching sharply when he came. Kíli was still moving – Bilbo could feel him through the hazy bliss of pleasure that washed his thoughts away. He had barely stopped shaking before his lover lifted him into the air, his cock sliding free with a wet pop. The dwarf spun around, bending Bilbo over the bench and then slamming his length back home again.

The hobbit grabbed onto the edge of the bench and held on at the archer pounded into him, the legs of the bench screeching on the stone. Bilbo was shaking again, skin so raw and sensitive that every touch felt like lightning dancing through his veins. He was overloaded, his nerves sparking as Kíli picked up the pace.

But the burglar didn't ask his lover to stop. He didn't want the dwarf to stop. He wanted to feel Kíli fall to pieces and he tightened his inner walls, clenching tightly around the archer's shaft.

Kíli slammed into Bilbo one more time, his fingers digging into the hobbit's hips as he found his own release. He ground his dick into Bilbo's ass as he spilled his seed with a curse and then slumped down over him. Both of them panted heavily, Kíli's breath stroking Bilbo's skin, and the hobbit was feeling pretty damn content right now.

But eventually other sensations began to make themselves known, Bilbo's body forcibly reminding him that the edge of the bench was digging into his stomach and the stone floor was hard upon his knees.

You're a bit heavy, love,” the hobbit murmured and Kíli grunted in answer before sliding back down onto the floor. He pulled Bilbo with him, wrapping his arms around the hobbit and nuzzling his face into his lover's neck.

“Shouldn't we clean up or something?”

“No. Cuddling,” Kíli ordered, his arms tightening in protest when Bilbo moved. But the hobbit was just shifting his position so that they could spoon more comfortably.

"We really shouldn't stay too long. And I still need a bath,” he murmured but he was already drifting off. Bilbo pillowed his head on their discarded tunics and he was asleep before his lover could reply.


End



P.S. In my head, Fíli walks in on this an hour later and is quite exasperated. Just FYI.