Chapter Text
It was their routine: Meet in the library, then go to either of their living quarters for a light tea and to chat before the evening feast. Having afternoon tea wasn’t entirely rare for Ori, since Dori seemed to especially like the concept, being an avid tea lover. But Bilbo did tea differently, for Dori never put out so many sandwiches and sweets with plenty of different things to add to their tea: Something that made Ori secretly like Bilbo’s afternoon tea better.
Still, despite the tea, the cakes, and the sandwiches, that day’s afternoon tea wasn’t the usual. And it was Ori himself that started it all.
“How’s life as a consort treated you?” Bilbo asked as he usually did, and as usual, Ori let out a tired sigh.
“Stressful.” He answered. “I never written so much in my life. And I was a scribe!”
Bilbo winced. “Well, at least Thorin’s helpful…” He replied. “Right…?”
“As much as he can be, considering how busy he is.” Ori told him. “And it’s just… Just…!”
Ori flushed, and Bilbo frowned at the sight.
“What’s wrong?” He pressed. “Don’t tell me there’s trouble in… Well…”
“No! No, no trouble there.” Ori assured rather quickly. “It’s just… It’s nice when we do it… But usually he’s so tired and sore that we just go to bed. Not that I’m complaining, because I like my sleep as much as the next dwarf, but…”
Bilbo hummed, sipping his tea, and Ori gulped his down to distract himself. It was hot, so it was a bit of a struggle, but he didn’t seem to notice, as Bilbo just casually refilled his cup.
“You know, Dwalin goes through the same thing sometimes.” He told Ori. “He’s Captain of the Guard, after all. Not to mention that he’s in charge of training most of the young ones. So, sometimes, I take care of him.”
Ori frowned. “He doesn’t seem the type to like that sort of thing.” He muttered.
Now Bilbo flushed. “Not usually, but sometimes he’s just tired enough that he doesn’t mind.” He replied. “So, on those days, I make sure he has a nice, hot meal before drawing us a nice, hot bath. I always make sure to massage his head and make sure he’s extra clean.”
Ori’s frown deepened, for he had no idea why Bilbo stressed that, but his friend continued before he could ask.
“Then, we go lie down in bed, and I give him a massage. Just use a little bit of oil to help, and do my best to work out any kinks he’s got.” He rattled on, and his flush darkened unexpectedly. “Then… Once he’s all… relaxed… I… Kiss him.”
“You just kiss him?” Ori asked. “On the lips? That doesn’t sound too exciting.”
“N-No, Ori. Not on the lips.”
“His cock, then?”
“No…”
Now Ori knew why he stressed his words, and he felt his face go aflame. “Wh-What? Are you serious!? You kiss him there!?”
“You’ve never done it?” Bilbo asked, voice a higher pitch than normal.
“Well, no!” Ori sputtered, fidgeting in his seat. “I-I never thought about doing…! Isn’t it… dirty…?”
“No.” Bilbo answered, clearing his throat. “Not if done right, at least. Hence making sure that one’s partner is extra clean.”
Ori frowned again, lost in thought. In a way, it made sense. After all, one always had the tendency to make sure one’s bits were clean before letting someone’s mouth go there. So, surely, cleaning that area would make it just as safe. Right? Not to mention that he had the pleasurable experience of having Thorin’s cock inside his own… area, so a tongue there shouldn’t be bad.
Still, it seemed awkward. It took the whole “admiring one’s arse” idea to a whole other level that Ori wasn’t sure he wanted to get to. And while he admired Thorin’s (and oh, how he admired), he wasn’t sure if he wanted to get that close to do so.
“I don’t know…” He eventually muttered as Bilbo took another sip of tea.
Then Bilbo Baggins uttered the words that would start one of the most bizarre stages of friendship Ori had ever experienced.
“You should try it.”
-
It was easy enough to plan, gather supplies, find time that he had off that he could share with Thorin without having to worry about guards storming in. Other things, however, weren’t.
For one, he had a hard time convincing Thorin that a bath was a good thing after a long day of work instead of doing more work. Even then, when he did convince him (surprisingly easy when he realized that if saying that he was going to be bathing as well, at the same time, would be sufficient enough), it was hard to clean Thorin thoroughly enough without raising too many suspicions. But Thorin was suspicious regardless, even when he melted under Ori’s touch when he washed his hair. Such feelings were clear when Ori, after they were finished and dried, dragged him towards their bedroom.
“What are you planning?” Thorin asked, and Ori felt heat spike under his cheeks.
“Nothing too dastardly, I assure you.” He replied earnestly enough, guiding Thorin to the bed and resisting when he tried to pull him down. “I just wanted to take care of you. It’s been a rather harrying few months, after all.”
“It has been.” He conceded, and Ori had to resist again when Thorin tried to guide him down. “And you have been taking care of me.”
“That may be…” Ori stated, hovering. “But… There’s something that I want to do for you… If you’ll let me… Will you?”
“Of course.” Thorin answered. “What is it?”
Ori bit his lip, reaching for the bottle of oil he had hidden nearby. “I’d… I’d like to give you a massage.”
Thorin frowned, clearly thinking it over before rolling to lie on his stomach. “All right.” He replied, peering back at him. “But only if I might do the same.”
Ori swallowed, far too distracted by the rolling planes of Thorin back. “W-We’ll see…”
Massaging Thorin was more enjoyable than Ori originally thought. He believed it would be like working with raw iron with your bare hands with little fire, and just as untamable. But Thorin seemed to instantly become pliant the moment he touched his oil-slick hands to his back. It was still hard for Ori to work out the muscles, since Thorin’s were strong and barely-yielding after decades of rigorous training and smithing, and the King appreciated his efforts nonetheless, if the sighs and groans were anything to go by.
Ori worked on his back and legs, skipping over the focus of the evening for the moment, and as he worked, nerves built in the pit of his belly. While he did prepare for the task he was about to do, he was still uncertain. What if his preparations were for naught, and Thorin ate food that didn’t sit well with him earlier? What if Thorin farted? What if Thorin just didn’t like it? Of course, the latter didn’t seem too plausible, for he had teased the area before with fingers with wonderfully wild results, but that was just fingers. He was about to use something else.
Eventually, he returned to Thorin’s buttocks, kissing the curve of his tailbone. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” Thorin sighed out, though his voice grew strong as Ori chewed his lips. “Why?”
Ori didn’t answer with words. Merely, he parted Thorin’s cheeks and licked steadily from the skin behind his balls and back to the base of his tailbone before going back to flick his tongue at the twitching furl that usually hid there.
“W-Wha-? Ori, you-!” Thorin stuttered, shivering under his grasp. “Ori, I- Oh… Oh…!”
Ori bit back a sigh of relief as he felt Thorin melt again, going back to the task at hand. Licking in broad stripes or just flicking his tongue, each movement made Thorin pant and his hips twitch. The actual taste wasn’t horrible, since he was very thorough in the bath, but it was certainly peculiar.
Then Ori dared to try to push in with his tongue, and Thorin moaned.
Thorin was never very vocal in bed. He’d grunt and growl, sometimes even let out a pleased sigh, but he would never actually moan. It made Ori feel confident, daring, and he continued to lick and press downward the more Thorin loosened under his touch. Thorin’s hips twitched and became increasingly louder the more he pressed in, making a choked sound when Ori finally managed to push his tongue passed the ring, caressing and thrusting the inner walls he could reach.
Thorin was practically humping his face before he stilled. Ori thought he had reached his peak, but then he felt rough hands brush against his head. “St-Stop!”
Immediately, Ori pulled back, wiping his chin clean from drool. “I-I’m sorry!” He sputtered. “Are you alright? Did I go too far? I…”
He trailed off when Thorin rolled onto his back, and his words died out completely when he took in the sight before him. Of Thorin, face and chest flushed, legs spread, and his cock tall and glistening.
“Tup me.” Thorin stated (because Kings do not beg), voice hoarse, and while Ori had never done so before, who was he not to comply?
In the end, while there was fumbling through a hurried preparation, their coupling was hard and fast, Ori’s speed fed by Thorin’s cries. It didn’t last long, either, for the moment Ori dared to touch Thorin’s cock he came, and he followed shortly after.
It was one of the best experiences they ever had since courting.
Now they laid in bed, still sticky with sweat and seed, neither giving a frig as Thorin simply held Ori close, peppering kisses into his hair.
The scribe hummed pleasantly. “How was it?”
“Spectacular.” Thorin replied, and Ori felt warm with pride. “I had no idea that such a touch was possible, nor how you could… Well, perhaps I should let you tup more often.”
Ori giggled, and Thorin swallowed the sound. When they pulled apart, Ori felt his heart grow full with the peaceful smile that spread across the King’s face.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Thorin asked, and ah, that was a problem. But it was simple enough to come up with a false answer.
“Oh, I read it in a book.” He replied, nestling as close as he could, only to freeze, for that certainly gave him an idea.
“You should let me read it sometime.” Thorin murmured before falling asleep, and Ori would, but not before letting someone else “read” it first.