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Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport was a giant mess of a hundred different gates, passengers, and blinking messages that all amounted to about the same thing: Thorin was stuck in the airport overnight. He was delayed on a very long business trip that meant he would miss his sister's birthday. This is what he got for flying through the States when he was supposed to stay in Mexico for two more days.
But no, Thorin had switched the ticket unthinkingly, believing that leaving two days early would let him reach Dís and his sister-sons by Saturday -- yet his flight in Mexico City had been delayed two hours, and by the time he'd reached Atlanta, he had missed the evening flight and would not be able to leave until 5:45 the next morning.
The spring storm fronts in the States were ridiculous. He wished he had stayed in Mexico City, but Fíli and Kíli had begged him, Come up for mum's birthday! She misses you so! Dad's out of town and we can't think of a better present! He could never resist the boys; it was any wonder that Dís managed to control them so easily.
The time was only a few minutes after midnight now. Thorin's tablet was running low on battery, his book was finished, and he had been awake since four A.M. With a sigh, he gathered his belongings and began the long walk down the terminal to the coffee shop that, miraculously, stayed open all night.
There was only one person in line, so Thorin dutifully took the spot behind them, glancing down at golden curls with the tired curiosity that comes of complete exhaustion. The petite man in front of him leaned forward heavily against the counter. He was wearing a tidy suit with a dark red jacket and long brown pants, and somehow it did not look garrish; the bright colors suited him.
"Cappuccino, triple shot, with a dash of hazelnut, if you please," said a voice that sounded as tired as Thorin felt, in a familiar accent, and the bored clerk glanced over the man's head at Thorin.
He nodded to the clerk. "Same, no hazelnut."
Slim shoulders twisted as the man turned, blinking up at him with wide eyes, startled. He had an upturned nose and deep, colorful eyes, blue with a hint of brown around the pupil. "Oh, I do apologize, I didn't even see you there." Then he smiled, and Thorin was charmed.
"I didn't mean to sneak up on you," Thorin replied, and he watched the upturned noise twitch with a small laugh. They both paid, and Thorin tried not to be obvious when he glanced at the man's hands to check for a ring. There was none. He glanced back up at the man's eyes, only to see them snapping up from peeking at Thorin's hands.
"Oh, I'm much too tired to notice anything around me right now. Just came in from San Francisco, and of course my layover isn't until the morning. Are you -- are you traveling through the States right now?" the man asked, and Thorin nodded, inhaling the scent of brewing coffee but unable to look away from deep eyes and curly hair. He saw the man sniffing the air with appreciation as well.
"Yes, headed for London to meet my sister. Is that where you're going?" Thorin asked, brightening at the thought of sitting with this lovely man for a few hours instead of sitting alone with only tablet games for company.
The man smiled, a little surprised but not displeased, gaze flicking down Thorin briefly in a subtle once-cover, and Thorin felt his own smile widen in response. "I am. My nephew is graduating next week from his academy and I couldn't miss it for the world. It'll be nice to be home again."
They both glanced over when they heard the swirling bluster of milk being steamed, watching together as the clerk finished their coffees. Thorin took his cup and breathed in the scent deeply, watching over the lid as the curly-haired man did the same. Their eyes met for a moment.
"Bilbo Baggins, at your service," the man said, smiling in a familiar way, and warmth curled in Thorin's belly. He had not felt attraction like this in far too long, and it looked like Bilbo Baggins felt the same.
"Thorin Oakenshield, at yours."
~
"I'm not either, but I cannot resist you," Thorin replied a moment later, grinning triumphantly as he tossed the straps onto their pile of luggage in the corner of the men's washroom. Bilbo blushed beautifully, legs curled around Thorin's hips as he leaned back against the mirror. Like they belonged there, and had it really been so long since Thorin had last been intimate with someone? He had been honest with Bilbo; random pick-ups in men's bathrooms were not his style. He took seduction slowly, but there was something about this man that called to him, tempted him.
They had flirted for almost an hour, with two more cups of coffee each, and Thorin had been enamored. With the only other company in the terminal a sleeping woman and a younger man determined to beat whatever level of Candy Crush was making him angry, Thorin and Bilbo had been utterly ignored in their attempts to flirt with each other. After the first coffee, Thorin had bought them both the next round; after that, Bilbo had bought the second, with a huff of breath that made Thorin want to kiss that clever mouth until Bilbo was breathless. From the way Bilbo was eyeing Thorin, he thought the attraction might be mutual.
Definitely mutual. Bilbo had brushed his fingers against Thorin's wrist teasingly before blushing red and excusing himself to the bathroom.
The sly glance over his shoulder had helped Thorin realize that it was not actually the washroom Bilbo was interested in. Now he had Bilbo crowded up against the mirror and was only too glad to lean in and take that succulent mouth in another hot kiss, listening to Bilbo's low moans of desire. With those annoying straps out of the way, Thorin could unbutton Bilbo's shirt and stroke his fingers over the soft hair of his stomach.
"I'm serious! I don't -- I haven't been with anyone in a year," Bilbo breathed into Thorin's ear after breaking the kiss, but his hands belied his words as they snuck into Thorin's lap and cleverly undid his pants.
"Haven't either," Thorin groaned as Bilbo's hand closed around his cock. "Why are you wearing so many layers?" He growled at Bilbo's clothes and finally tugged his trousers open, unbuttoning the red briefs and pulling out Bilbo's erection. He flicked his thumb over the thick fluid leaking over his fingers, smirking as Bilbo's hips jerked forward.
"Oh! I get cold easily," Bilbo panted, and his grip on Thorin tightened. "Can you -- can you lean in --"
"I've got you," Thorin murmured, pulling Bilbo's hips forward and shifting down, and they both shuddered as their laps pressed together. Bilbo grasped at Thorin's shirt, biting down on his lip when Thorin wrapped his larger hand around Bilbo's fingers, stroking their cocks together.
They kissed, and Thorin swallowed Bilbo's moans with his tongue, coaxing the sounds of lust from reddened lips and down into his throat. He wanted to bury himself in Bilbo, but neither of them had a condom and the men's bathroom was no place for a proper fuck. Bilbo moaned into his mouth again, and Thorin sucked on his tongue, tightening his grip as he stroked faster.
"How do you like it?" he murmured into Bilbo's mouth, nudging his head back with his nose and making good work on marking Bilbo, determined to leave something that Bilbo would look at and touch later and remember him.
Bilbo's knees pressed against his waist, and Thorin heard muffled words. He pulled away to see Bilbo covering his mouth, and those piercing eyes fixed on him, dark with lust. Thorin's vision narrowed to Bilbo's face, and he thrust forward into their hands. He was rewarded with a sharp cry, caught by the hand over Bilbo's mouth.
"T-tighter," Bilbo whispered. Thorin adjusted his grip and leaned in to kiss Bilbo again, swallowing his next cry with gratitude as he slid his hips forward again. Bilbo had tossed Thorin's sweater to the floor ages ago, and his shirt fell open around them. He felt Bilbo's hand sliding down to his stomach, pressing against the line of hair as if to push him away, but Bilbo only pressed closer to him.
"Thorin," Bilbo cried, and Thorin shuddered, spreading his fingers across Bilbo's back and pulling him closer. Bilbo was the first to come, and as warmth spilled over his fingers, Thorin broke the kiss and buried his face in Bilbo's neck, scraping his teeth across soft skin. "Yes, yes," Bilbo whispered, lifting his hips into Thorin's thrusts, and then Thorin let go.
Bilbo's fingers pulled the orgasm from him sweetly, hot mouth pressing to Thorin's ear and murmuring filthy things that Thorin would remember forever. They caught their breath together, and in the silence afterwards, Thorin kissed Bilbo's neck slowly, tracing the faint point of his ear and thinking of having this in his own bed.
Bilbo had said he was staying in London. Maybe Thorin's way of seduction could be used properly after all. Perhaps Bilbo would like to make a date of it. Thorin knew he was smitten, and he groaned as he realized that he wanted more than just sex from Bilbo. He was ridiculous -- but Bilbo was perfect.
A few paper towels later, and Bilbo made sure that Thorin left first, before he followed at a sedate pace. They found their previous spot and sat down together, not right beside each other, but with the table between them for their coffee cups. The sleeping woman paid them no mind, and the other man was too busy muttering about chocolate to look at them. Thorin glanced at Bilbo's neck, where he was fiddling with his scarf, and flushed to see the marks beneath his ear.
"More coffee?" he asked, voice a bit strangled, but Bilbo caught his gaze and winked.
"I could use a kip myself. Our flight leaves in about four hours, right? I'll be boarding first, since I'm in section A," Bilbo said, and Thorin blinked in surprise.
"I am in A as well. What seat are you?"
"Third row, first seat," Bilbo said, and Thorin smiled slowly. He pulled out his ticket and held it up to Bilbo, whose eyes widened at the same time that he blushed.
"Third row, second seat. Isn't that convenient?"
"Oh dear," Bilbo said, blushing furiously, but he was smiling and Thorin thought he would have a very pleasant flight to London, indeed.
~
Thorin did entertain the thought of joining the Mile High Club. From the way Bilbo blushed when Thorin glanced thoughtfully in the direction of the tiny bathroom, he might have imagined the same.
They were too tired, though. Thorin slept like he was dead, and when he woke with less than an hour to landing, he realized Bilbo's head was pillowed on his shoulder, golden curls brushing against Thorin's beard. He breathed in Bilbo's scent and smiled to himself, thinking he could get used to this. He rather enjoyed it when Bilbo woke a while later and blushed bright red again.
"This is for you, if you wish it," Thorin murmured, sliding a small card with his cell number over to Bilbo, who blinked at him in surprise.
"Oh. Oh! Yes, I should like that very much," Bilbo said, his nose crinkling as he smiled, and he wrote a phone number on a napkin. Thorin was quick to tuck it into his pocket, not because of the knowing look of the stewardess, but because he did not want to lose Bilbo's contact number.
"I'm meeting Frodo at the airport. His parents have kindly offered me a room until his graduation, but surely after all that, I'll go to my little house out in the country, and perhaps..." Bilbo offered as he met Thorin's gaze again. Thorin felt a smile twitch at the corner of his lips.
"Perhaps so. My sister will be rightly annoyed with me for missing her birthday, so I will be busy with her and the boys for the next week. After that, though... perhaps," Thorin replied, his voice carrying low with promise across the air between them. Bilbo beamed at him.
"Shame that you missed your flight. But then, we might not have met," Bilbo offered, his clever mouth softening with shy agreement. Thorin almost leaned over to kiss him -- but no, the stewardess was watching them with amusement. The woman next to them was still asleep, but Thorin had long kept prudence as his bedfellow.
"Indeed. Small wonder, but I am glad for it." Their eyes met, and Thorin thought of greeting his sister who would no doubt be cross and happy in the same breath, of his sister-sons who would gleefully cling to him for hours -- and yet he wished to remain on the plane for a bit longer, to be with Bilbo for a while more. He stroked his pocket, over the bit of napkin with Bilbo's number, and smiled to himself.
~
Then Thorin realized that Bilbo was glancing at his phone with a frown. Thorin shook off his embarrassment and pulled out his own phone, finding a message from his nephew begging if he had called a taxi yet.
"Drogo should be waiting by the Express. I've got to go," Bilbo said, and Thorin did not think he imagined the note of sadness in his voice. He wished to step forward and embrace Bilbo, reassure him.
Instead he sent a message to the newest number in his phone. Think of me when you settle in tonight.
Bilbo was watching him, gaze dark as Thorin fiddled with his phone, but he looked down when the slim case vibrated. "Oh," he said as he read the message, then he gave Thorin a bright smile, fingers moving fast.
A moment later, Thorin received a message: Oh, I'll be thinking of you, and your big hands and strong arms. Bilbo's grin was mesmerizing.
Oh, how he wished to close the space between them and kiss that grin from Bilbo's mouth.
He was surprised, then, when Bilbo chose to do it for him. One kiss, a simple press of lips, and Thorin was left staring in utter surprise. Bilbo gave him a slow once-over, licking his mouth of Thorin's taste, and Thorin had to shift in discomfort then, remembering how that mouth had opened in a gasp over his name half a day ago.
"You'd better call," was all Bilbo said, before he turned away and disappeared into the crowd. A few people were staring, but most ignored him, and Thorin could not help his own grin. He looked forward to the next time he saw Bilbo Baggins.
~
"I really like your bed," Bilbo gasped, as Thorin snapped his hips forward and drove into him again, making Bilbo's voice rise with sharp pleasure. Thorin grunted in response, too focused on holding Bilbo's squirming hips still, wanting to sink into that hot velvet over and over. Bilbo's legs were thrown over his shoulders and Thorin smirked past the dark waves of his hair, watching Bilbo's eyes darken beneath sweaty blond curls.
"It has its uses," Thorin said, exhaling the last word as he thrust again, and he was rewarded with a short wail. Bilbo grabbed at his hips, cock leaking as it thumped against his stomach, and Thorin yearned to lick it up, but he was too busy leaning down to take Bilbo's clever mouth in a searing kiss.
"I'm not coming first this time," Bilbo muttered, biting on Thorin's lip, and he grinned viciously. Then he shuddered as Bilbo purposefully clenched, and in retaliation, he slammed his hips forward and listened to Bilbo cry out his name.
The sex was fantastic, but the mornings afterward made Thorin happiest; Bilbo made breakfast and Thorin made coffee, and they ate together in the sunroom. Four months, and already Dís was inviting Bilbo for tea and Frodo was having play-dates with Fíli and Kíli.
He was glad he had missed that flight, all those weeks ago, else he never would have found this perfection.
"Thorin, need you," Bilbo whispered, leaning up to him, and Thorin kissed him fiercely, eager to take him apart and hold each piece of him close to his heart. It had been this way since the first time they had laid eyes on each other, and Thorin hoped it would last until the end of their days.