Series: Part 8 of Adventures of a Different Kind
Rating/Warnings: NSFW; semi-public sex, misuse of the Ring, dirty talking, possessiveness, fingering, etc.Word Count: 4649
Disclaimer: If I owned the Hobbit it would be a porno. Seriously.
Summary: After the dwarves win back the Lonely Mountain, Kíli and Bilbo have a celebration of their own.
Kíli can hardly believe that they actually won. Thirteen dwarves and a burglar against Smaug the Terrible should have ended with a well-fed dragon and a cautionary tale for the next fools to dream of Erebor. But whatever Bilbo had said to the fire drake sent him winging away from the Lonely Mountain like the Valar themselves were on his tale and Smaug has not been back.
So after three days of waiting, Thorin declares their quest complete. The line of Durin has reclaimed the kingdom of Erebor and Kíli has never seen his uncle grin like that before.
He's not the only one because Thorin's company takes one look at the waves of gold strewn across the hall before them and starts cheering raucously. How can they not when this sea of treasure means that the Sigin-tarâg can rebuild their people's glory and the home they left behind?
Even Kíli and Fíli are swept up in the moment despite having never seen these fabled halls before and Kíli hugs his brother tightly before looking around for the hero of the day.
“Bilbo! You did it! We did it!” the archer shouts, grabbing his hobbit by the waist and spinning him around gleefully.
“Yes, we did,” Bilbo replies, smiling up at the dwarf with a fond look in his eye. “So how about we leave our friends to their party and have a celebration of our own.”
Kíli stumbles to a halt when his burglar purrs the latter for that tone of voice has been the harbinger of some of the best sex of his life. Indeed, his cock twitches just thinking about the possibilities and the archer can hardly wait to see what his lover has in mind. He can certainly think of a few fantasies that he'd like to fulfill now that they've finally made it to Erebor.
However, before the archer can lean down and kiss Bilbo breathless, he's reminded of their audience by his uncle's shout.
“Burglar!” Thorin roars, pushing in between Kíli and the hobbit in order to grab Bilbo by the hands. “Master Baggins! You have more than proved your worth and the House of Durin will not forget the service that you have done for us this day. Anything that I can grant you; anything within my kingdom, just ask and it is yours.”
At this promise, Bilbo glances back at Kíli and the archer's heart thumps hard in his chest at the speculative light in his lover's eyes. If they are going to make this thing of theirs official, now would certainly be the time to ask his uncle's blessing and yet the dwarf cannot decide if he is more excited or terrified by the thought.
For all the conversations that they've had – from long hours spent in the Mirkwood and lazy murmurs whispered in a lover's ears – they've never discussed what will happen when this quest is through. No reason to ruin a good thing after all, not when it was working out just fine.
Only now their company has won, their journey finished, and Kíli finds that he doesn't want to say goodbye. He likes Bilbo and more than that, the archer trusts him with both heart and life. So if he were to try for permanence with anyone, it would be their burglar here.
Even if Kíli never admits the strength of his feelings to anyone other than himself, the sex has been consistently fantastic and who knows if the dwarf will ever find someone this adventurous again? He likes having a lover who can surprise him, one who takes him apart in bed without believing that he's weak.
Just because Kíli prefers to get fucked than do the fucking doesn't mean that he's helpless and he has been forced to prove this a few too many times before. But Bilbo has never looked at the dwarf as anything less than a warrior and if the burglar were to court him, Kíli thinks that he'd say yes.
Though this revelation will have to wait for another day because the hobbit has apparently waited too long to speak in Thorin's eyes. “No matter, friend. The offer stands as long as I or any of my kin are breathing and I am sure that you will think of something that you desire soon enough. For now we shall celebrate our victory with food, drink and proper dwarvish hospitality.”
Kíli's uncle waves his hands to send Dwalin and Bombur scurrying off into the mountain, the two dwarves returning shortly with a keg of Erebor's finest in their hands. Then Dwalin cracks open the barrel while Bombur gathers together the company's remaining food supplies and whips up a feast.
So the dwarves camp out right there on beds of treasure, showering each other with gold and gemstones in between each drink, and it isn't long before sobriety is a thing of the past. Kíli himself is feeling pleasantly tipsy by the time the archer realizes that he hasn't seen Bilbo for a while now.
The hobbit had been right there drinking with him, but then Kíli had gotten into an argument with Fíli over the best way to wear a tiara and when the dwarves had finished – with Kíli the clear winner – the burglar was gone. However, before the prince can work himself into a tizzy of worrying, there is a soft touch on his arm.
“I'm here, love,” Bilbo whispers right behind him and yet when Kíli turns his head to look, he can't see anything.
“Where are yo-”
“Ssh, Kíli. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves just now,” his lover silences the dwarf's questions with a soft hand across his mouth, Kíli nearly going cross-eyed as he tries to see what he can feel.
However, for all his invisibility, Bilbo is quite solid and his skin tastes of the same salty tang as usual when the archer flicks out his tongue. By this point some measure of logic has penetrated through the haze of alcohol, but even if Kíli has realized that his lover is wearing the magic ring he'd found, the archer isn't sure of why.
At least, not until Bilbo presses warm lips to the dwarf's ear and murmurs wickedly, “Do you think you could keep quiet while I fucked you? The others would notice if you left the party and I don't feel like waiting anymore. So could you keep silent when I know how much you love to scream?”
Kíli can't answer, the hobbit's words striking to his core and stealing his breath away. Bilbo's dirty talking has grown in leaps and bounds since that first awkward encounter in Thranduil's halls and so the dwarf just lets his lover's voice wash over him.
“Or maybe you wouldn't want to stay quiet. Maybe you'd prefer it if they could see us – if I laid you out on this golden mountain and showed your kin where you belonged. Thorin did say that I could have anything, after all. So shall we test it, darling? Shall we test your control?”
The archer bites back a moan at the picture Bilbo is painting for him and while he doesn't know if he would be able to stay silent, Kíli wants to find out.
So he sucks the hobbit's fingers into his mouth, lathing his tongue across each knuckle before hollowing his cheeks. He can feel Bilbo's breath hitch against his back and the dwarf grins as best he can around his lover's hand.
Once his burglar is suitably distracted, Kili reaches for his cloak, which he had discarded on a pile of gold coins some time ago. While the combination of torch light and drunkenness should keep their companions from being too observant, it isn't a guarantee and so the archer tosses the cloak across his lap just in case. After all, Kíli may not mind the fantasy of an audience, but Thorin is practically his father and there are some things that the dwarf lord simply does not need to see.
“I'll take that as a yes,” Bilbo murmurs once the prince has settled the cloak to his liking, the hobbit's thumb tracing along the edge of his lover's lips. Then his free hand is snaking around Kíli's waist to tease at the ties of his trousers, deft fingers freeing the dwarf's length from its bonds.
A few quick strokes and Kíli’s cock is standing proudly, the prince drawing up his knees to disguise his interest from any watching eyes. However, when he looks around, everyone else is too busy drinking to pay them any notice and so he allows himself to focus on Bilbo's skillful hands instead. His hobbit is so very good at teasing, thumb stroking over the tip of Kíli's shaft before sliding to the base and back again.
But just when his lover has gotten him all hot and bothered, Bilbo lets go, patting the dwarf's thigh gently at the soft mew of disappointment that he can't quite hold back.
“Easy, love. We're just getting started,” the hobbit murmurs as he draws his wet fingers out of Kíli's mouth. Then Bilbo eases the archer's trousers down over his hips, cupping his lover's ass for a moment before pulling the leather out of his way.
The treasure is cold beneath him, a sharp bite against Kíli's skin that makes him gasp despite himself, and the dwarf sends his brother his best reassuring smile when Fíli turns at the sound. But a questioning brow is met with a dismissive head tilt and Kíli slumps back against Bilbo in relief once Fíli has shrugged and looked away again.
This is going to be harder than I thought, the archer thinks, but the idea of a challenge only makes his blood run hotter in his veins.
So Kíli doesn't stop his lover when the hobbit trails two slick fingers down the crack of his ass, shoving a few coins aside to make space for his hand. Instead the prince just arches his back in blatant invitation, Bilbo chuckling softly as he presses the tips of his fingers against the archer's entrance as he has done so many times before. But the burglar refuses to push inside his lover, stroking along the edge of the dwarf's rim without ever crossing it.
The light touch is maddening, Kíli's cock giving a throb of thwarted anticipation every time the hobbit draws back again, and it isn't long before he wants to scream. Because the prince knows exactly how those fingers feel inside him, the push and pressure and fullness of his lover thrusting deep.
The dwarf had ached for days after that last night in Laketown, every step a reminder of Bilbo's claim on him, and while it's faded now, Kíli just wants that feeling back; he wants his hobbit to screw him properly, to drive his cock into the dwarf until his lover is etched on his bones again. With this desire burning under his skin, the archer quickly loses patience with Bilbo's teasing and reaches one hand behind him to grab his hobbit's wrist.
Kíli holds Bilbo tightly as he shoves his hips back, fucking himself open on his lover's hand. Only two fingers to start, hardly anything really, but enough to take the edge off Kíli's need. Because it's a promise of what's to come now that his lover has finally started to move, sliding another finger inside the archer and shoving them in deep.
So far the dwarf has managed to stay silent, his lips pressed together tightly to stop the moans from getting out. But his lover seems to take this as a challenge, spreading his fingers wide until it starts to burn again.
The good sort of burn, the kind of ache that sends sparks through Kíli's body and steals his thoughts away. However, Bilbo's voice keeps the archer grounded, his lover reminding him exactly why he needs control even as he does his best to shatter it.
“Come on, darling. You can moan for me,” the hobbit whispers, licking a hot trail down the archer's neck. “Don't you want to moan for me, to scream for me so that everyone knows where you belong? Because you're mine, love, and we both know it. You're mine to tease and touch and take care of like you need.”
It's the truth even if neither of them will ever say it outside the heat of passion, Kíli's body singing for the burglar as it never has for anyone before.
“Of course, maybe I don't want to share you, no matter how beautiful you look trapped on the edge like this. Maybe I would rather keep you to myself since you are a far greater prize than any golden treasure here. So I know you can moan for me, but you're going to stay silent until I tell you otherwise. You're going to do this for me and in return, I'll do anything you ask. Any filthy fantasy locked away in that gorgeous head of yours, we can make reality.”
Bilbo's fingers have kept moving steadily as the hobbit spins this filthy promise, fucking deeper into Kíli with every stroke. But it's not this touch that makes the archer shudder, not his lover's promises that make him tremble uncontrollably.
It's the sharp note of possession in his lover's voice, the knowledge that someone wants him exactly as he is – depravity and all. With Bilbo, the dwarf doesn't have to be the prince of Erebor unless he chooses and Kíli nearly loses it when sharp teeth bite a claim into his skin. But he holds himself back because he knows exactly what he wants to do with the hobbit's promise and because the archer doesn't want to share anymore than Bilbo does.
The fierce, demanding lover who is willing to try anything is Kíli's alone to treasure and he intends to keep his hobbit as long as fate allows. However, this is an idea to revisit later because as soon as Bilbo notices the dwarf's distraction, he drags Kíli's attention back where it belongs.
Not that it takes much when the burglar has three fingers buried deep inside his lover, twisting his wrist until he finds the spot that makes the archer shake uncontrollably. Bilbo presses down hard, a sharp spike of pleasure that the dwarf can feel from head to toe. His whole body snaps taut for an instant, the gold beneath them shifting as he struggles to catch his breath.
But the burglar just does it again and again until Kíli's skin is burning, waves of pleasure overlapping each other until the archer can't see straight anymore. All Kíli can feel is Bilbo around and inside him, the hobbit's firm weight against his back the only thing that keeps from collapsing entirely.
Bilbo still hasn't moved past three fingers, though his thumb teases along the edge of his lover's hole with every inward stroke, and the dwarf doesn't know how much more he can take. However, the burglar has learned exactly where Kíli's patience ends and just as the archer is ready to throw caution to the wind, Bilbo pulls his fingers out.
Kíli jerks at the sudden emptiness, digging his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from crying out. He wants to moan so badly, but while he and Bilbo are somewhat removed from the rest of the company, the dwarf can see Dwalin and Nori arguing little more than six feet away.
However, Kíli forgets all about the others when his lover cups his ass again, nudging the dwarf up onto his knees and then pulling him back so that he's straddling Bilbo's thighs. The hobbit opens his stance to the edge of pain, Kíli struggling to keep his balance on the shifting gold beneath them as Bilbo splays him wide. He must look absolutely debauched beneath the cloak that hides his modesty, clothes not so much removed as shoved aside.
But the archer knows that Bilbo wouldn't look any better if he were visible since the edge of the hobbit's sleeves brush against his chest with every motion and Bilbo's buttons are digging into his back. Yet the small discomfort only heightens Kíli's sense of anticipation before the blunt head of his lover's cock finally presses into him.
One long slow slide and the burglar is fully seated, the dwarf's weight pushing him in deep. There's only the barest ache as Kíli's entrance stretches to accommodate his lover for his body is well used to this by now and Bilbo's length fills him perfectly.
Sure the dwarf craves something larger once in awhile but his lover has proved quite inventive and most days Kíli doesn't want to deal with an hour of foreplay before he gets a cock in his ass. Most days he just wants to ride Bilbo until his brains leak out his ears and his hobbit is the perfect size for that.
So the archer grinds down against Bilbo with a soft sigh of pleasure, twisting his hips until the burglar's length brushes across that sweet spot inside of him. Kíli will never tire of the way his body sings at the sensation, spark of bliss shooting up his spine until his knees give out. The dwarf nearly groans again when he slams down on Bilbo's cock, the motion somehow driving his lover's shaft even deeper into him.
The hobbit grunts softly, arms wrapping around Kíli and holding him still when he tries to get his balance back. In this position the dwarf can barely move, all of his weight resting on his lover lap and Bilbo's cock throbs within him like a brand.
He can only wait at the burglar's mercy, hips twitching restlessly until Bilbo finally starts rocking into him. The hobbit doesn't have enough leverage to really fuck Kíli, but the slow grind against his ass is enough to drive him mad again, and Bilbo brushes his sweet spot just enough to keep it interesting. So the pleasure builds gradually, the slow glide of molten metal rather than the sparks of a forge, but it burns all the hotter for the slowness of their pace.
Because this is its own kind of pleasure, the dwarf's whole body tingling with every lazy stroke until his bones feel like liquid gold. But even this rhythm cannot last forever and Kíli is almost disappointed when he feels his balls draw up against his body, warning him that the end is nigh.
Though the archer is far more disappointed when Bilbo's hand closes around the base of his cock, squeezing tightly until the danger's passed. The hobbit drives his release back mercilessly and Kíli's groan of frustration is swallowed by his lover's mouth. Bilbo kisses him thoroughly, tongue tracing the edge of the dwarf's lips until he starts to forget his irritation in the press of heat and skin.
Only when Kíli is completely relaxed again does Bilbo release his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek in apology. “Sorry, love. Can't have you making a mess just yet. But if you're patient for me, I'll send you to the Valar soon enough.”
The hobbit sounds just as wrecked as Kíli feels, the rough growl of his voice making the dwarf shiver on his lap. But that's nothing to the new spike of pleasure when Bilbo starts thrusting in earnest, a soft litany of moans and gasps filling the air around them no matter how they try to bite them back.
While the position is still awkward, the burglar has managed to find himself some leverage, enough to drive into his lover hard and deep. Though Bilbo falters slightly when the dwarf clenches around his cock in retaliation for the hobbit's earlier teasing, strong muscles put to slightly different use. Kíli makes him work for it, every stroke a mess of heat and friction that Bilbo can't withstand for long.
Instead his lover grips the dwarf's hips hard enough to bruise and slams up into Kíli one more time before filling him with seed. The archer groans at the wet gush of heat within him even as Bilbo sinks sharp teeth into his shoulder, the hobbit muffling his own cry against Kíli's skin.
It's not quite enough to send the dwarf over with him, not when Bilbo asked him to be patient, but that doesn't mean that he can't enjoy the sensation anyway. So Kíli shifts on the burglar's lap, reveling in the way that his lover shudders beneath him and the slick of Bilbo's seed against his skin. He's going to be positively dripping with it when the hobbit pulls out and no matter how drunk their companions are, Kíli thinks they'll notice that.
But when he twists toward Bilbo to mention this dilemma, the prince upsets his lover's careful balance and the mass of coins they're sitting on suddenly starts to slide.
“Oh, fuck!” Kíli shouts, shattering the silence as the pair tumbles down the hill in an avalanche of treasure, every bounce making the dwarf groan again. Because he and Bilbo are still locked together and the sparks that Kíli's seeing aren't only from his head banging on the ground.
So the archer just lies there gasping when they finally come to a halt some ten lengths from where they started, his face planted in a pile of gemstones and Bilbo a heavy weight across his back. Kíli hardly even twitches when his lover finally pulls out, the hobbit settling beside him with a soft sigh. Bilbo is still invisible but the dwarf can feel him moving and he certainly feels the possessive hand that strokes across his ass.
Kíli's hips jerk when Bilbo dips two fingers back inside him, the burglar stroking the swollen rim of his lover's entrance until Kíli can hardly breathe again. His cock is positively throbbing now, his pulse pounding like thunder in his ears, and if Bilbo doesn't let him come soon, the dwarf is going to pass out.
But then the archer hears someone call his name and all thoughts of relief are buried under a sharp wave of embarrassment.
“Kíli, are you all right? That sounded like quite a tumble there,” Fíli shouts, his words slurring slightly from the sheer amount of alcohol that's running through his blood. Although his brother sounds honestly worried, the question just makes Kíli flail around in panic because he would prefer to be caught fucking than to be caught with his ass hanging out in the aftermath.
Oh, Mahal. This is going to be one of those stories that uncle tells at dinner when he's old and senile and forgets to be ashamed of me, Kíli thinks, rolling over onto his back as his lover pulls his fingers out again.
However, even as the archer is preparing for humiliation, Bilbo grabs Kíli's forgotten cloak and throws it over them. Drunk and from a distance no one should notice that there's too many bodies underneath it and the thought gives the dwarf the courage to shout back.
“I'm fine. I just had a bit too much to drink is al-ll,” Kíli's voice cracks when his lover wraps soft fingers around his cock, the arousal he had forgotten swiftly roaring back. Because Bilbo is a wicked fucking bastard, his hand only moving faster as Fíli's head appears at the top of the treasure mound.
“Are you sure? You sound a little funny,” the older prince says, squinting down at his brother drunkenly.
“Re-ally. I'm fi-ine. I promise!” the archer forces out, gritting his teeth at the soft chuckle in his ears. Kíli can't decide if this is sexy or infuriating, but this definitely wasn't what he meant when he wished for a lover who could keep him on his toes.
Or maybe it was, because his annoyance disappears completely when Bilbo's lips close over him. Kíli barely notices that Fíli has turned back to the party, too focused on the wet heat of his lover's lips around his cock. The burglar sucks him as though he's starving for it, swallowing Kíli down until his length nudges the back of Bilbo's throat.
There's a shimmer in the air as the hobbit snaps back into view, tucking his ring into a pocket as he grins filthily. It's positively obscene the way that Bilbo looks up at his lover, his expression far too innocent for where his mouth has been.
Or where his mouth is and Kíli slams his head back against their bed of treasure when the hobbit hums around his cock. The vibration sends streaks of lightning all through the dwarf's body, Kíli writing helplessly when his lover doesn't stop. Instead the hobbit just keeps humming as he bobs his head up and down the archer's cock and Kíli has to fight back a hysterical giggle once he recognizes the tune.
It's the song of the Lonely Mountain, the lament for all those that Smaug had slaughtered and there's something very wrong about using it for this. Or perhaps it's only fitting that they change the song's meaning now that the beast is conquered, the hint of impropriety doing nothing to stop the raging inferno in his blood. For the dwarf is far past shame now, Bilbo bringing him to the heights of pleasure with lips and teeth and tongue.
Kíli finally loses it when his lover takes his whole length again, Bilbo swallowing around the prince's cock even as he slides two fingers back inside of him. The duel assault is more than his strung-out nerves can handle, the archer's release slamming into him like a pack of charging wargs.
When Kíli returns to his senses, Bilbo is smiling down at him, looking as pleased as a dwarf with a new weapon as he licks the last of Kíli's seed off his lips. So of course the prince has to kiss the hobbit, pulling his lover down and snogging him until his smugness disappears.
“You are going to be the death of me,” Kíli murmurs with a crooked smile of his own. “Or at least my uncle if he ever catches us at this.”
“But what a way to go,” Bilbo replies with a chuckle as he strokes a hand through the dwarf's hair. “Besides, Thorin may be oblivious but I'm pretty sure your brother has already guessed what we've been doing all this time.”
“Knowing and seeing are two very different things,” the prince retorts, though he's feeling too good right now to really be annoyed. “Now help me up; I need to wash my ass.”
He really does because Kíli likes being clean almost as much as he likes getting dirty and he can't keep a disgruntled frown off his face when his lover's seed starts dripping out of him. If he were naked that would be one thing, but it's going to stain his leathers and that is just not on.
“Admit it, it was worth it,” Bilbo murmurs, reaching out a hand to pull the archer up. “If you do, I'll show you the bathhouse that I stumbled on. It's still in fantastic shape even after all this time.”
The burglar's offer ignites a curl of warmth in Kíli's chest because his lover must have searched out the baths before getting him all filthy, Bilbo once again proving himself as sweet as he is adventurous.
So he lets his hobbit lead him toward one of the hall's smaller entrances, not even trying to keep the smile off his face. Because he's well-fucked and well taken care of and feeling pretty damn good right now.