Series: Part 3 of Adventures of a Different Kind
Rating/Warning: NSFW; unapologetic food porn, slightly rough sexWord Count: 2865
Disclaimer: If I owned the Hobbit it would be a porno.
Summary: The unrepentant food porn fic.
No one notices Bilbo slip away from the feasting, pockets full and mischief on his mind. For the hobbit is quick and quiet as he leaves the others to their celebration and he breathes deep as he steps from Beorn's hall into the crisp evening air.
These summer evenings are truly lovely, the golden light turning the skin-changer's garden into a paradise as the sun lingers on every bud and leaf and Bilbo stands there for a moment to appreciate the view. Because Kíli is right where the company had left him, “on watch” under a late-blooming apple tree, and the sight of his lover still takes the hobbit's breath away.
Though the dwarf actually looks rather bored at the moment and when Bilbo walks over and taps him on the shoulder, the archer turns to greet him with a hopeful grin, “Hey, have I finally been reprieved?” He asks and his smile dims only slightly as the burglar shakes his head.
“Sorry, I tried but Thorin wouldn't hear of it. No food or shelter until morning even though I'm the one who was supposedly insulted by what you said.”
Bilbo really is sorry since denying the dwarf a meal seems needlessly cruel, but Kíli waves off his apology with a shrug. “Don't worry about it. One night without supper isn't going to kill me and I should have known that uncle would take the fact that you saved his life very seriously. Which was amazing by the way. But truly, it's not your fault that Thorin reacted to my joke in the wrong manner since it's not as though he knows what we've been getting up to when the others aren't around.”
Kíli gives the hobbit a flirtatious smile which threatens to send Bilbo's thoughts to a wonderfully filthy place, but he manages to pull himself back together with the reminder that he has an actual reason for being here. No matter how lovely ravishing the dwarf would be.
'Yes, well” The hobbit mutters, shaking himself sharply. “I still feel bad about it and everyone else is busy feasting so I brought you a few things. The way they're drinking they'll never notice I was gone.”
He begins to empty out his pockets and Kíli's eyes light up with each new bit of food laid upon the grass. Although Bilbo obviously couldn't bring him everything, the burglar managed to nick a decent spread and he watches fondly as the dwarf tucks in. The hobbit ate his fill while waiting for their companions to drink themselves into a stupor so he's content to simply appreciate the other's appetite for now.
At least Bilbo is content until he looks over at the archer and a wave of desire rushes over him. Because Beorn had laid out a bowl of raspberries fresh-picked from his garden and a small pot of honey, both of which had been easy to slip beneath his coat, and of course Kíli just can't eat them normally.
No, his lover is placing the berries on his fingers, dipping them in honey and then sucking them clean in a manner that makes the hobbit shift uncomfortably. Because he knows exactly how those full lips look when stretched wide around his cock, the dwarf's smile wicked and his eyes dark with lust.
So Bilbo can't help but moan low in his throat when Kíli chases a stray drop of honey down his wrist, tongue lapping lightly at his skin. Valar but it's been too long, he thinks hungrily, completely enraptured by the sight of his lover and he groans again as his trousers grow tight. The dwarf looks up at the sound and while his face is a mask of innocence, Bilbo notices the hint of a smirk upon his lips.
“Oh you little tease!” The hobbit says when he finally realizes the other's game, picking up one of the raspberries and throwing it at Kíli's head. But his lover just snatches the fruit from the air and pops it into his mouth with a laugh.
“It's only teasing if I don't plan to follow through and I fully intend to give you what you want,” The dwarf tells Bilbo and the burglar can't really argue with his logic there.
However, he refuses to give in to temptation that easily since resisting is half the fun after all, so the hobbit simply arches one eyebrow and asks, “Oh and you think you know exactly what I want, do you?”
Though privately Bilbo has to admit that the archer really does when Kíli slinks closer, wrapping one arm around the hobbit's neck and murmuring against his mouth, “Well I certainly didn't hear any complaints from you the last time and I do need to thank you for saving my uncle's life. Aren't you going to claim your reward?”
His voice is sultry, teasing at the edges of Bilbo's control and when the dwarf's tongue flicks out to trace the edges of his lips, he can't resist anymore. So the hobbit crushes their mouths together with a groan, chasing the hint of sweetness left by the berries until only Kíli's usual spice remains. This taste is fast becoming an addiction and he doesn't know how he ever managed to live without it before.
But as much as Bilbo would love to simply rut against the dwarf until they both find completion, he has bigger plans for this encounter. Much bigger plans and so he forces himself to draw away.
While Kíli protests the interruption, he doesn't resist when the hobbit pulls him out of sight behind the apple tree and presses him down into the grass. “See something you like?” His lover asks with a crooked grin as he looks up at Bilbo and the hobbit just snorts in response.
“You know I do,” He says, straddling the archer's hips and beginning to unlace the first of many layers which stand between him and his prize. “I like what I see very much but I believe that I have a promise to keep. On our first night together I swore that I would make you beg and now I finally have the time to do this properly. After all, the quick and dirty trysts we've managed since then hardly count.”
“That's right you did, didn't you?” Kíli replies, smirking up at Bilbo. “Well, who am I to deny your chance? Though I should warn you that I may be a tough nut to crack.”
While hobbit fully intends to rise to the challenge in those eyes, he plans to take his time about it because his lover's not the only one who knows how to tease. So he undoes the archer's laces slowly and although the amount of clothes that dwarves habitually wear has annoyed him in the past, at the moment it feels more like unwrapping a present on Yuletide. Indeed each tantalizing glimpse of skin makes his blood run hotter and when Bilbo finally tosses aside the last of the other's layers, he has to stop and drool.
Because this is the first time that he's seen the dwarf in all his naked glory, that endless expanse of skin gleaming like satin in the sun. The moonlight and the darkness of their previous encounters had softened the archer's sharp edges but now the hobbit wants to explore everything he sees.
So he runs his hands down the other's chest just because he can, tracing his fingers along Kíli's scars and dimples and pressing his mouth to the spots that make his lover squirm. Only when Bilbo can feel the dwarf's muscles trembling beneath his tongue does he lean back to swipe the jar of honey off the ground.
“What are you doing?” Kíli asks, eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he pushes himself up on his elbows to get a better view.
“Just having a little fun,” The hobbit replies with a wink before pouring a line of honey along his lover's chest from neck to navel and then leaning down to suck it off. He starts at the top, biting lightly at the taut line of the other's throat and pressing a kiss to the dwarf's shoulder before licking the first sweet drops of honey off his skin.
Soon Bilbo loses himself in his exploration, every burst of liquid like magic on his tongue and every choked moan music to his ears. When the hobbit presses his lips to one of Kíli's nipples, the archer shudders and he curses wildly when the hobbit bites even as his hands come up to hold him there. His lover chuckles, the vibration making the dwarf groan and his name is a strangled gasp on Kíli's lips. After playing with the right nipple until it's flushed and hard beneath his tongue, Bilbo switches to the other and he's delighted to discover that it's just as sensitive.
So the hobbit laps the honey off his lover's chest until no trace remains and then moves lower, pausing briefly at each of Kíli's scars. There's a dimple on his side which he says is from an arrow and a line across his arm from a youthful accident. Nearly a dozen such stories carved into his skin and Bilbo licks sweetness off every one of them, placing his own mark on his lover's history.
He ends his explorations at the dwarf's navel, dipping his tongue into the indentation and sucking the last of the honey out. At this Kíli's hand flexes against the hobbit's hair, the other one gripping his shoulder tightly and Bilbo allows it for a moment before grabbing the archer's wrists.
“Stay,” The burglar orders, pressing his lover's hands against the ground and then sitting up to strip off his own clothes. He makes short work of it since hobbits wear a sensible number of layers and it is a relief when he finally drags his trousers off his cock. Bilbo is hard already from making his lover moan and his length swells even further at the sight of Kíli splayed across the grass. For the vibrant green contrasts beautifully against the paleness of his skin, the dwarf's muscles taut and hands clenched tightly in the dirt, and the hobbit doesn't know what he did to deserve all this to himself.
Bilbo might have frozen there forever, overwhelmed by what the fates have granted him, if Kíli hadn't lifted his head to glare at the delay. The dwarf's eyes are nearly black, dark with heat and desire and the hobbit can no more resist him than he could stop breathing.
So he kneels back down between his lover's legs, grabbing the last handful of raspberries and smearing them across his skin. Trailing one finger through the mess, the hobbit reaches up to paint Kíli's lips scarlet before capturing them again. As he delves into the warmth of the dwarf's mouth, Bilbo allows his hands to roam at whim, stroking his palms over the other's sides before sliding down to tease the curve of his ass. But despite the archer's urging, he refuses to move below Kíli's waist and the hobbit holds his hips down firmly when they try to grind against his own.
“You said patience was a virtue,” Bilbo murmurs, smiling smugly at the frustration in the dwarf's eyes. “And I said I'd make you beg.”
“No one's begging yet,” The ever-stubborn Kíli growls in response, fingers flexing against the ground as he forces his hips to still.
“Oh not yet,” The hobbit agrees easily, before leaning down to whisper in his lover's ear. “But you will,” He promises, wrapping one sticky hand around the archer's cock. So Kíli's retort is quickly lost to cursing as the burglar pumps his length slowly and nips at the sensitive spot beneath his ribs.
There's definitely something to be said for experience, Bilbo muses, knowing that in his younger days he never would have lasted long enough to reduce his lover to this trembling mess.
The hobbit savors every whimper as he licks the red stain off Kíli's skin, the dwarf's stifled whimpers making his blood sing. He keeps his touches light to tantalize and torture though he cannot resist biting down from time to time and the hint of pain only makes the archer moan louder. But while Kíli shakes with the effort of remaining still every time Bilbo digs in his teeth, it's not until the hobbit trails a nail down his lover's cock from tip to root that Kíli finally breaks.
“Please!” He gasps, voice rough and pleading and he nearly weeps when the burglar releases him. But the hobbit needs both his hands to turn the dwarf over onto his knees, spreading his legs wide before draping himself across his lover's back.
Bilbo reaches around to slide sticky fingers along Kíli's lips as his other hand gropes wildly for the honey jar and he groans when the dwarf's tongue flicks out. The archer sucks each of his lover's fingers into his mouth in turn, lathing them clean with utmost care. Or perhaps just desperation given the way he pushes back against the burglar's hips with every stroke of his tongue.
The hobbit's control is unraveling quickly beneath these ministrations and his hands tremble as he coats his fingers in honey once again. The liquid isn't perfect but it will have to do so Bilbo pulls back just far enough to slip one slick digit into the other's ass. Kíli clenches around him, tight and hot and perfect and the hobbit has to bite his lip to stop himself from finding release immediately. He prepares the dwarf with hurried strokes, knowing that he is rushing but unable to fight to the burning need beneath his skin. But if there is any pain it only drives his lover's pleasure higher considering the way the archer writhes beneath his hands.
“Fuck me already!” Kíli demands once Bilbo has spread him open on three fingers and who is he to disobey? So the hobbit lines himself up and drives deep into his lover with one long filthy slide. Although the dwarf groans low in his throat, he opens beautifully beneath him, resting his forehead against the grass as he takes all that Bilbo has to give.
You're going to be the death of me, the hobbit thinks, needing a moment to collect himself as he runs one hand down the long curve of Kíli's back. But what a way to die.
Then Bilbo grabs the dwarf's hips tightly, digging his thumbs into the dimples above his lover's ass before pulling out and slamming in again. The hobbit is too worked up to be gentle and so his pace is hard and fast and brutal but the archer meets every stroke with an obscene moan.
Soon Kíli is shaking beneath burglar's hands, pleas and curses falling from his lips as he pants into the ground. Bilbo reaches out to grasp his hair, yanking the dwarf's head back into a burning kiss as he continues to drive forward and he times his thrusts to motion of his tongue. Their mouths are frantic, hungry despite the awkward angle and then the hobbit takes Kíli's bottom lip between his teeth. He bites down sharply and the dwarf keens beneath him, hips jerking as the pair falls into release together, the pleasure finally overwhelming them.
The two lovers slump down in a heap while they try to catch their breath and it's a long moment before Kíli reaches back to elbow the hobbit in the chest.
“Ge' off you heavy bastard,” he mumbles, looking over his shoulder at Bilbo who can't resist stealing one more kiss from those swollen lips. Then he pushes himself up with a groan, sliding out of the dwarf with a filthy squelch before flopping down at his side. The hobbit stretches out on his back, his muscles aching pleasantly and he feels rather smug about the blissful look on Kíli's face.
“Don't get too cocky,” His lover tells him when he catches sight of Bilbo's smirk through one half-lidded eye. “You may have won this round but the fight's not over yet. I'll get you again next time.”
“Sure you will.” The hobbit retorts, his grin only widening at the dwarf's words. “Because the way you were moaning beneath me simply screamed wicked plans.”
“Whatever, you know you love it,” Kíli replies as he waves one hand dismissively and then runs his fingers through his mane with a disgruntled frown. “But fantastic lay or not, when I can think again I'm going to be seriously pissed that you got honey in my hair.”
Something about the complaint strikes Bilbo as eminently ridiculous when his lover is wearing nothing but his skin and his seed and both of them desperately need another bath. But when the dwarf looks over in confusion at his snickering, the hobbit doesn't explain the source of his amusement, just looks up at the sky and laughs.