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Curiously, it was Bilbo who remembered first, though not immediately. Oh, one of the Dwarves seemed vaguely familiar - at least the hair did - but Bilbo was far too preoccupied with the mayhem that broke out in his living room to give him more than a second glance. And when the dwarf bowed and says, "Nori," something in Bilbo sighed in disappointment.
--
Nori didn't recognize the hobbit, and he was far too busy catching up with the others to pay attention when Gandalf introduced him. There was food, glorious food, and wine and ale and songs to be sung. He eyed the hobbit's silver candlesticks and played with the thought of nicking them, but his pack was already heavy enough. Instead he plundered the small pipeweed barrel.
He still loved the Shire though his visits had been rare as of late; there was an atmosphere of urgency in the dwellings in the Blue Mountains these days that had infected him as well. Still, he wished he could stay a little longer in this comfortable little hole, maybe pick some apples and haggle at the markets.
--
The first night sleeping under the open sky, Bilbo realized that he had brought his pipe but forgotten his pipeweed. He hesitated but decided to ask Bofur to lend him some as they sat by the fire, the dwarf whittling away on a piece of wood, the sun setting behind them and casting their shadows on the ground. The first taste of dwarven tobacco sparked recognition. The memory, hazy and vague with time, grew clear as if a great fog was lifting. He could feel the last rays of the sun on his skin, the rough hewn wall underneath his hands. The air smelled of mushrooms once more and his mouth was filled with smoke remembered and real, and he could almost taste the imprint of the strange dwarf's lips.
A taste of adventure, he remembered, and this: the smell of hay, flecks of blue cloudless sky and his mother chasing him through the fields, the frozen Brandywine in the Small Winter.
"Tell me about Nori," he suddenly asked Bofur, and the dwarf looked surprised.
"Him?" he said, and slowed his hands. "He's a shady fellow, that one. Not a bad guy, but not entirely honest either. Ye don't want to play games with him."
He meant dice and cards, Bilbo knew, but his mind was entirely elsewhere. He was breathing easier, as if the recollection of adolescence had lifted the burden of respectability from his shoulders.
He waited another day before approaching Nori, uncertain whether he should even try.
--
Nori was eating his stew, spiced with some saffron he acquired in Bree a few moons back, when he heard Kili talking to his brother.
"Why don't you take some of this to Mister Boggins then," the young dwarf said, and Fili, who was blocking Nori's view of his companions, sighed.
"I believe it's Baggins," he said. Nori flinched. It can't be, he thought.
"What's Baggins?" asked Kili, eyes wide.
Fili cuffed his brother. "It's his name, you dolt. Bilbo Baggins." They bickered on, but Nori didn't hear it - he was transfixed by the sight of Bilbo, seated alone on his bedroll, rubbing his hands, golden curls luminous in the light of the fire, and of course it was him. Now he knew he wondered why he had not seen it before, the entirely too respectable coat and occasional wicked gleam in the hobbit's eyes should have tipped him off.
Bilbo looked up then, their eyes locking, and Nori found he could not look away. Bilbo's expression was unreadable from the distance, but it was clear he remembered.
Nori broke the gaze, nodding once, slowly, and looking down at his feet.
--
It was late when Bilbo approached Nori, the fire had mostly died down and he was shivering in the night. Their companions had fallen asleep hours ago; only Bombur's snores broke the silence.
He crouched in front of the dwarf, and was glad to see that Nori was awake. Bilbo bit his lip.
"Can we talk?" he asked shyly, and Nori lead them around a small outcropping, settling down at Bilbo's side.
"If you're worried that I'll tell the others," said Bilbo and Nori's breath hitched, like he hadn't even considered that Bilbo was not someone who liked to keep secrets, "I won't." Nori looked grateful.
"So you found your adventure," he said softly. He would not meet Bilbo's eyes directly, staring at the frayed hem of Bilbo's shirt instead.
Bilbo smiled wryly. "It's found me," he answered. "And I do feel - quite adventurous."
"Oh?" smirked Nori, and his hand travelled to Bilbo's knee, "Just how adventurous?"
"I-" Bilbo started, just realising the double meaning of his words, and then he was interrupted by Nori's lips catching his hesitantly. The kiss was soft and strange but sweetly familiar, and Bilbo was out of breath when they parted, Nori's hand lying high on his thigh now.
"It's been many summers since I've done this," admitted Bilbo.
"Show me," growled Nori, breath hitting the tip of Bilbo's ear, and he shivered and nodded jerkily. It was a struggle to loosen his trousers enough to drop them, and he was not entirely there, lost in a dream-like state. He was not entirely sure Nori was there either, but then the dwarf licked his ear, tongue curling around the shell, and he was hard, and adventurous enough to meet the challenge.
Nori watched Bilbo jerk off, both of them half-hidden from view, the night totally silent. Bilbo slid his hand slowly over his shaft, just firm enough. He stared at the fire; he could not tell who was on watch, or if any of the others had woken. When he glanced back at Nori he was blinded, and the night vanished around him; he was alone in a monochrome haze.
It was a little awkward and he would have blown the whole thing off if he could have found a way to do it politely, but Nori looked even needier than Bilbo felt, so he wet his lips and swallowed and tried to find a rhythm because, well, he was a Baggins, and Bagginses finish what they start.
Nori was pressed against his side, one hand had disappeared into his breeches, the other hovering over Bilbo's shoulder like he was not sure whether he was allowed to touch, now of all times. Bilbo fell into a calm, mellow state, watching Nori's face from the corner of his eyes, pants pooled around his ankles. He was almost at the point where he thought he could do this indefinitely, he had reached the perfect balance between uncomfortable and turned-on to keep him hard but unable to come, when Nori shifted and put a hand on Bilbo's thigh, hot and big on his skin.
Bilbo made an undignified sound and sped up and suddenly it was too much; their breathing was too loud in his ears, and Nori's warmth seeped into him. With two rough, almost violent strokes, he came, stripes of semen hitting his chest and the grass and by Eru, this was the single most bizarre thing that had ever happened to him.
Then Nori was astride him, a heavy weight on his thighs. It was way better than talking about adventures, and their conversation was little teasing rolls of hips. Bilbo was spent, but his cock still twitched when Nori ground down, rubbing his own hard length into the curves of Bilbo's stomach. He was breathing harshly, and Bilbo kissed him, determined and whole-hearted and it was absurdly good. He licked his palm hastily and grasped Nori's hot flesh, stroking him quickly and capturing his moans.
The coarse hair of Nori's beard scratched against his chin and cheeks and he was surrounded entirely by the dwarf. Nori came at a flick of Bilbo's wrist, hot spurts hitting his hand and shirt.
He sank into Bilbo, pressing him into the stone almost uncomfortably. Bilbo waited until he had composed himself, and then he waited a little more, kissing and nipping at Nori's neck. At last he took off his shirt and wiped off his hands; it was a lost cause now anyway. When Nori stood he was wobbly, and he laughed lightly.
"The things you do to me, Bilbo Baggins," he chuckled, and Bilbo joined in.
"I was entirely respectable before I met you," he protested, and Nori merely raised his eyebrows.
"Maybe not entirely," Bilbo admitted. Nori offered him a hand up, and he took it gratefully. They had to support each other on the way back to the camp, and Nori tugged him to his bedroll and knelt down to rummage in his pack. Finally, he made a satisfied hum and handed Bilbo a shirt.
"Wouldn't want you to catch a cold," he whispered. Bilbo nodded his thanks and eyed the bedroll longingly. He was freezing, and Nori's bulk would be a welcome warmth, but he didn't want to risk Dori catching them.
"Goodnight," he said, and Nori drew Bilbo down a little to kiss him.
"Goodnight, my burglar," he replied.
When Bilbo fell asleep, he was still surrounded in the scent of Nori which would forever be ingrained in his memory as the scent of adventure.