Work Text:
Hobbits have healing powers. Bilbo Baggins’ power is in his cock: He can heal any injury by fucking the injured. Neither he nor Gandalf shares this news with the dwarves because hope is a dangerous thing when it involves sexual favours and a potential lack of consent from either party. Then, the big day comes and Bilbo must make a choice: Fuck Thorin Oakenshield back to health or watch him bleed out on the mountainside.
Good thing Thorin can still speak. Too bad the dwarf hates being interrupted.
.|.--.|.--.|.
The time had come. The moment Bilbo had been dreading for the past six months and more was finally happening. Someone was about to die in front of him unless he saved them, but fucking someone back to health had never been his idea of romance.
“I’m glad you are here.” Thorin told him and Bilbo wanted to agree. “I wish to part from you in friendship.” the dwarf declared and that was certainly a much better option than what Bilbo had been offered the last time they spoke together.
“No. You… are not going anywhere.” Bilbo replied, trying to find the right words. Consent was such a tricky thing in these situations. “You’re going to live.” He hoped.
Ignoring Bilbo completely, Thorin continued. “I would take back… my words and my deeds at the gate.” the dwarf whispered and Bilbo was happy enough about that, but there was something about the timing that he really needed to work on. “You did what only a true friend would do.” Thorin declared and Bilbo noticed the friendship word again and despaired to hear it so succinctly at just that time. “Forgive me.” Thorin requested and Bilbo nodded and tried to reply, but the dwarf was not finished speaking.
“I was too blind to see it.” the old dwarf continued while Bilbo desperately tried to find an opening in this certainly heart-felt, but very badly timed monologue. “I am so sorry… that I have led you into such peril.” Thorin told him, then coughed those awful coughs again.
“No.” Bilbo broke in as Thorin’s coughs gave the hobbit the perfect opportunity to speak without really interrupting. “I’m glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them. It is far more than any Baggins deserves.”
Thorin smiled and Bilbo stuttered and lost all words.
“Farewell… master burglar.” Thorin whispered and Bilbo despaired to hear it. “Go back to your books… and your armchair… Plant your trees… Watch them grow-”
“Oh, bugger it.” Bilbo cursed and kissed the dwarf to shut him up and test his reaction directly instead. The speechifying was taking too much of their precious, limited time.
As Bilbo’s lips met with Thorin’s and shifted gently across them, he heard a soft intake of breath from the dwarf beneath him… followed by the light shifting of the dwarf’s lips beneath his, mimicking and following his own. It was promising. Promising enough.
Bilbo parted from Thorin for a moment and looked into surprised, yet… curious eyes… and it felt very promising, but he would hate to do this wrong.
“Wha-?” Thorin began to ask.
“I have a secret.” Bilbo told the king of the mountain and hoped to be forgiven for his desperate interruptions. They really were running out of time. “I always did. It’s not proper to share, but this might be our last chance to speak-”
“Burglar…” Thorin whispered and Bilbo saw his hands twitch as though wanting to lift, but too drained to actually complete the action.
“Yes, of course. Thorin, every hobbit has a healing bodypart and it can heal any wound.” Bilbo explained. “Some kiss, some touch, and some hug. Mine… Mine requires me to fuck.”
Thorin wheezed quietly, eyes following the movements of Bilbo’s hands as they gestured wildly while the hobbit spoke.
“Thorin Oakenshield, I am sorry to ask this at such a time, but will you allow me to fuck you back to health?”
“I… Yes…” Thorin breathed, but his eyes were also closing beneath a possibly confused frown and Bilbo wondered if he was too late.
“I’m… so sorry. Please forgive me.” Bilbo whispered and unlaced his trousers to release his cock to the cold air. The conditions were not ideal, but they never really were and his favourite person was dying.
It was rushed. Bilbo had emergency oil in a pocket and used it to bring himself to some rigidity, summoning every filthy dream he had had for the past few months to mind to bring himself to life, then, before he could lose what little stiffness he had gained, he tore the stitches of Thorin’s trousers just enough to stuff his fingers through the gap and poke into the dying dwarf’s arse… and Thorin wheezed a breath at the touch.
He was still alive, but just barely.
Finishing the quickest oiling Bilbo had ever had, he stuffed another finger up Thorin’s arse and scissored as carefully as he could on such a strict deadline. Each responding wheeze of air through Thorin’s broken lungs was another encouragement to keep going and, after a few desperate moments, Bilbo retrieved his hand and lined up his cock in its place.
Holding the dwarf by his muscled warrior’s buttcheeks, Bilbo hesitated for only a moment. Thorin was still wheezing rather than breathing and the red on his face was more from blood splatter than from blushing, but it would have to be enough. Bilbo could imagine the rest until Thorin had healed. If he healed.
With a final hope that he was not too late forgotten on his lips, Bilbo pushed into Thorin and wished. One touch to heal the small things. Another to heal deeper cuts. Several strokes to heal mortal wounds. Thorin would need it all. Bilbo drew back and thrust back in, burying his healing cock inside Thorin’s arse, and closed his eyes to feel.
Thorin had looked broken on the ground, but in Bilbo’s memories he saw Thorin as he really was: A strong warrior, a proud leader, and a kind and loyal companion. As Bilbo slid back out and pushed back inside Thorin’s tight warmth to the sound of another raspy breath from the dwarf, he remembered seeing Thorin washing in the river. He remembered water drizzling down beautiful shoulder muscles, flowing in rivers along a smooth spine, and collecting to drip off of perfectly rounded buttocks.
As he thrust inside between those very same buttocks again, fingertips pulling the dwarf’s arse upwards to meet his hips at a better angle, Bilbo remembered the look of Thorin surrounded by the treasures of his forefathers, that first time before the dragonsickness took over. The smile on Thorin’s face had been so wide, so relieved, Bilbo himself had felt elated to see it.
As Bilbo thrust back inside once more, he remembered watching the dwarves sparring about camp in the late evenings and early mornings and how Thorin had moved so easily. Thorin was so tall and looked nearly solid with packed muscles, but he moved with the smoothness of a deer. Bilbo had been mesmerised each time.
As Bilbo thrust back inside again, to the sound of a soft moan and the faint sensation of fingertips touching the back of his hands, he remembered a rare hug on top of a great rock formation and how Thorin’s arms had felt, hugging Bilbo close.
With his next thrust, he could no longer ignore the feeling of warmth around his cock and the knowledge that he was feeling Thorin around him made him moan. Sliding back again, Bilbo felt a single tear slide down one cheek as it came back to him why he was doing this in the cold, with his eyes closed.
Holding back a small gasp of grief, Bilbo pushed back inside that blessed warmth that meant Thorin Oakenshield was still alive and hoped his healing truly worked. There had not been much of an opportunity for him to try it before. It simply was not proper to go around fucking people back to health, but maybe his healing, too, would be useful at last.
On his next push, Bilbo heard a groan and felt a hand tighten around one of his own, but it did not remove his grasp around Thorin’s bum, but rather held it in place while another hand climbed Bilbo’s other arm. As Bilbo withdrew, he heard a whisper of words and hoped it was a good sign.
Sinking back inside the oiled tightness of Thorin’s arse, Bilbo bit down on a groan. A dream from their days in Laketown had returned to him and the very real sensations of muscled body against the palms of his hands, oiled warmth around his cock, and a rough hand reaching to grasp him by the back of his neck matched the daydream too closely.
He opened his eyes to banish the dream and saw two very real eyes staring intently back at him. There was a ravaged look on Thorin’s mostly healed face. Bilbo faltered and gasped as the burning look of lust in Thorin’s eyes brought another wave of heat through the hobbit’s body.
“More.” the dwarf growled and massaged Bilbo’s neck firmly. There was no denying the command, though Bilbo wondered if Thorin was asking for healing or fucking.
Hoping it was both, Bilbo took a deep breath and lifted Thorin’s butt a bit higher… and shoved back in, again and again and again and again, never breaking eye contact with the panting dwarf beneath him, until it all became too much. He needed more.
Leaning forward on his free hand, Bilbo’s breath mingled with Thorin’s as the hobbit’s hips began to shift his cock in tight circles inside the dwarf’s hole. “Thorin…” Bilbo sighed. “I need you…”
Thorin’s eyes threatened to slide shut with each twirl of Bilbo’s hips and his voice echoed with deep moans and building groans, but at Bilbo’s request the dwarf made a gasping breath and looked Bilbo straight in his eyes before pulling him down into a heated, open mouth kiss.
As a tongue wound its way inside Bilbo’s mouth, twirling and teasing at Bilbo’s own, the heat built another level and, as Thorin moaned at the next thrust, Bilbo felt his edge approaching and shifted Thorin’s hips very slightly before slamming into him at a faster pace.
The rewards were immediate. Thorin’s moans became groans and bordered on whimpers, as the dwarf huffed and growled Bilbo’s name, and Bilbo could do little else than reciprocate with moans and whispers of Thorin’s name in return, as his hips whipped forward and forward again with only the slightest retraction in between, until each snap of his hips matched the massaging fingers on his back.
It was with a whimper the gentlehobbit came, cock buried deep inside the dwarf king’s arse, and it was by luck, to be sure, that Thorin, too, twitched and groaned with release as Bilbo filled him up inside, with thick ropes of cum.
For a moment they simply shared breathing, while Bilbo did his best to remain high above the dwarf with a single hand to support him. Then he released the king’s butt, slid out of Thorin’s hole, and rolled to the side to stare up at the cold winter sky, pulling his cloak to cover his unlaced nethers while he caught his breath.
Judging by the sounds beside him, Thorin had done something similar with his own clothes.
For a moment, they were simply breathing.
Bilbo took heart at the sound of healthy, full breaths from the direction of Thorin Oakenshield. They served as another reminder that his powers had worked . He had never brought anyone back from mortal wounds before, but Thorin no longer seemed to be dying.
“It… would appear… a hobbit has many uses, master burglar.” Thorin commented as he slowly regained his strength. “Though I would prefer… this particular gift… remain between just… the two of us, if I may.”
Bilbo felt himself blush at the insinuations. “I… could agree.” he haggled, as his own panting slowly lessened to increasingly normal breathing. “If the rewards are right.”
The deep laughter of Thorin Oakenshield was such a confirmation of the perfect restoration of the dwarf king’s lungs that Bilbo laughed along out of pure relief.
“Tell me.” the dwarf king questioned in a deep voice reserved for intimate conversations and Bilbo turned his face to find Thorin’s deep blue eyes looking right at him where he lay, side by side with the half-shorn dwarf. “What rewards would you ask of a king who owes you his life, his kingdom, and the health of his people?”
“Oh, when you put it like that.” Bilbo mumbled and stared at the clouds in the sky for inspiration. “I would ask for my life…” – “Granted” Thorin agreed. – “...my freedom…” Bilbo continued. – “Without question.” Thorin assured. – “...half the kingdom, of course…” Bilbo joked. – “Hahaha, of course, though my nephews might seek to fight you for it.” Thorin returned with a truly warm laugh. – “Of course, and…” Bilbo pondered and looked over at Thorin with a question in mind. “I would ask you not to nearly die on me again.” the hobbit asked and watched as Thorin’s smile was replaced with a pensive look.
“...and if I am in need of healing, once more?” the dwarf asked and Bilbo searched for any hint of flippancy or joke, but failed to find it. Thorin seemed absolutely serious and quiet in his request.
“...you could find a healer, if you wished it.” Bilbo evaded and watched something flicker and close within Thorin’s eyes.
“Of course.” Thorin agreed and looked to the sky, though his voice was one of barely contained protests and great disappointments. “I- …with the treasures of my forefathers, I could afford to keep one on hand. The very best, if we can find one.”
The morose tone had Bilbo’s heart cramping with sympathetic pain.
“You could…” Bilbo agreed, staring at the clouds above.
“...but?” Thorin asked and Bilbo turned his head to see his very recently fucked dwarf look right back at him, Thorin’s hair in wild disarray and his lips still glistening with the moisture left behind from their reckless kissing, and he made a decision he had avoided for a long time.
“...but you might not need one.” Bilbo mumbled, courage fading while Thorin’s eyebrows lifted before him. “...if you had someone helpful like that… by your side. Always.”
“...and how does one get someone like that by one’s side?” Thorin asked in a very quiet voice and it felt like a snowflake could have been enough to tear their fragile connection apart. “Forever.”
“I’m not sure.” Bilbo dodged, breathless. “I haven’t thought about it.” Not with beginnings like these.
Thorin’s hand lifted between them and gently stroked down Bilbo’s nose with a knuckle. It sent a shiver down Bilbo’s neck, yet it was not unpleasant. It felt significant.
“Amongst my people, we say that there are three ways to repay the saving of a life.” Thorin began as his hand found Bilbo’s by his side and their fingers inexpliccably began lacing together, unseen, between them. “One is an oath of protection, as a life saved may be reciprocated by another saved in return. Another is a reward of treasure, as the sharing of wealth is known to be appreciated greatly by most, if not all. But the third way is an oath of marriage between their families, as they have clearly found someone trustworthy in times of strife and there is no greater match for a marriage than that. Of the three, the third is still the rarest of them all, as a marriage is never to be forced on either party, but that might not be a problem in this case.”
Thorin shifted and Bilbo turned to find those deep, ponderous eyes looking right into his own once more. It lit a warmth in him, as it always did, and this time he chose not to ignore it as he had before.
“I would ask you to choose your reward, master burglar.” Thorin mumbled towards him, eyes flitting across Bilbo’s face without settling. “Or a fourth of your own choosing, as you are not a dwarf and hobbits might think quite differently on such things.”
Bilbo did not realise he had stopped breathing until he tried to speak. It was a shivering gasp and a light clearing of his throat and some blinking towards the sky later that Bilbo turned back towards Thorin, laying there on the ground beside him, hand in hand and trousers unlaced or torn beneath their cloaks, and he spoke. “In Hobbiton, marriage requires courting.” he managed before he had to clear his throat again to keep his heart from leaping straight out of him. “It cannot be avoided, I’m afraid.”
“I see.” Thorin responded lightly and turned his head to stare once more into the sky. Bilbo took comfort in feeling the hand inside his hand and warmed at the touch as Thorin’s thumb began stroking the back of his own. “And how does your courting usually begin?”
.|.--.|.--.|.