Chapter Text
To: Bilbo Received- 7:46 pm
Staying over at Dwalin's tonight, don't wait up.
To: Ori Received- 7:52 pm
Didn't you stay two other nights this weeks at his? You two should just move in together already, I can’t stand your "after sex vibe". Anyway, I wasn't planning to, I'm just outside our building.
To: Bilbo Received- 8:02 pm
You act like we are animals in heat. Isn't it too early to come back from a night out in town? Did you trick someone into going home with you ;)
To: Ori Received- 8:04 pm
Although it was a rather thrilling outing at the Tesco tonight, I had to leave early as a result of me being kicked out because I threw a can of beans at one of those bloody self-checkout things. But, I did manage to hook some ingredients for tomorrow's lonely breakfast, seeing that my flat-mate is off doing the horizontal mambo with the neighbor again.
To: Bilbo Received- 8:09 pm
Oh dear Bilbo, got into another squabble with those machines again did you? We should really look into getting you a therapist about your anger issues, it can seriously affect your love life if you're always so cross.
To: Ori Received- 8:11 pm
Don't you have a Viking to shag?
To: Bilbo Received- 8:13 pm
Oh yeah.
At the last text, Bilbo shoved his phone into the back pocket of his worn out jean. He knew that this was probably the last time he shops at the Tesco around the corner, and he let out a long sigh at the thought of having to take the bus just to get his groceries. Definitely a commute he didn’t want to make.
Bilbo fumbled for the keys in his pocket, only to stop completely when he realized that said keys were still in the little blue bowl on the table next to the door. He took in several deep, calming breaths, trying to compose himself before he hurt his foot by kicking the lamppost. He thought which neighbor (some he knew well, others may be asleep, and others just might not like him very much) to buzz before he settled on the tenant that lives right next to him.
“Aye?” Came a loud, raspy voice from the speaker above the name tags.
“Mr. Ur, it’s me Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins, you know your next door neighbor?” Bilbo said loudly into the microphone.
“Oh no, I didn’t order anythin, ye must be looking fer the bloke in apartment 6B.”
“No Mr. Ur, it’s me, Bilbo Baggins!” Bilbo insisted, practically yelling now.
"Oh Bilbo, how ya doing lad?”
“I’m doing fine Mr. Ur-“
“Please, only Bombur, Mr. makes me sound like I’m old er somethin”
“Okay Bombur, can you buzz me in? I left my keys on table.”
“Sure! Why d’ya not tell me sooner? Standin out there in the cold, ya gonna get a chill, catch yer death ya will lad.”
“Excuse me Bombur, I have frozen food here, if you can understand the rush.”
“Oi! Get away from the intercom yer pastries are burning. Ello there Bilbo, in a rut now are ya?”
“Hello Bofur, please please please buzz me in, or I swear I will find you and burn your hat!"
“Alright alright. I’ll help out our little neighbor, but only for a price.”
“Anything!”
“Tomorrow night, I’m dragging ya over to the bar and yer going to mingle with a few other lads and yer gonna have a good time. Ye never go out and yer gonna die alone at this rate.”
“Fine ok Bofur, I’ll go with you clubbing tomorrow, just be happy that I have no grading to do. Now let me up!”
“Haha okay no need to get feisty,” Came the voice before the locks in the door clicked apart, letting Bilbo push through.
Definitely have to call the landlord to get the lift fixed. Bilbo thought as soon as he saw the large yellow ‘broken’ sign hanging on the lift. He shifted the weight of the bags evenly among his hands so he could trudge up the three flights of stairs.
---
Happy and tired that he finally made it to his flat, Bilbo set down the many bags that had been weighing down on him on the floor and getting up on the very tips of his toes, he reached up and quickly swiped the spare key off the top of the lantern that was right next to his door. The key made a loud clanking sound as it fell on the floor. Still too hot from staying on top of the lantern for too long, Bilbo picked it up with his handkerchief and slid it into the keyhole.
Once Bilbo heard the gears shift as the door unlocked, he put the spare key back in its place on top of the lantern, picked up the bags, and paddled into his dark flat. He dodged the boxes of books that were lying unceremoniously on the floor and he made his way to the kitchen with only one stubbed toe. As soon as he put away all the groceries, he plopped down onto the large sofa- sweater and pants still on- and let sleep take over.
This was not the day that Thorin Durinson had hoped for.
First of all, his toast burned and his coffee was only hot water (The cup may or may not have been thrown at a wall). Right after that, Kili broke a very old vase, much to Dis’ amusement (she was probably secretly mad, but she didn’t show it or help to scold her youngest). Next, he had to explain to a very important client that there was no possible way that he could make a custom-made ring in one day (he lost a very important, not to mention wealthy, patron today).
In addition, his car broke down (again, much to Dis’ amusement, who made up a phony story about being stuck at the office so she didn’t have to drive him back). Then, the bloke that he was sitting next to on the bus spilled his blueberry sorbet all over Thorin’s new suit (he’d have to buy a new suit later, blueberry stains are murder to get out). To top it off, the bus passed his stop and the driver refused to turn around, making him walk six blocks in the cold (again, in a wet and dirty suit).
And finally, he left his keys at the office (which caused him to call a rather talkative neighbor, causing him to stand in the cold while said neighbor went off about his wife and kid before he even got the chance to ask him to buzz him in).
Today was, without a doubt, not the day he had hoped for.
As soon as he reached his flat, Thorin weighed the options in his head. Call Dwalin and get him to bring me the spare key, but have to deal with angry him because I interrupted his date, or, break in and have to take in the lock to a locksmith. He went with the latter, deciding that he'd rather deal with a bill than a furious Dwalin, and got to work on the door.
Bilbo was in a deep, dreamless sleep until he was startled awake by the loud banging at his door. He looked quickly at the clock, which showed 6:30 in bright red numbers.
Thinking that it was only Ori and Dwalin fumbling at the door, Bilbo got up and quickly headed into the kitchen, mumbling something about etiquette, in order to set some food for himself.
Of course, the thought that it was Ori and Dwalin quickly flew away as said person kicked the door in, practically blowing it off its hinges.
Now realizing that this must be a break in, Bilbo equipped himself with a frying pan and hid behind the wall unit, waiting for the burglar to walk within hitting distance.
As soon as the man (who was bigger than Bilbo had originally thought, with broad shoulders and long hair, and was he wearing a suit?) was within swinging distance, Bilbo swung the pan at the back of the burglar's head. His aim was true, hitting his mark and making the man fall face forward with a dull thud. Immediately after Bilbo figured that the man was unconscious, he ran to the phone in order to dial 999 and he turned on the light in order to get a better view of the intruder to give an accurate description to the operator.
“Mr. Durinson?” Bilbo squeaked, dropping the phone on the floor with a loud clunk, all thoughts of calling the police quickly fading away.
“Hurrmm” Thorin mumbled, blinking slowly in order to adjust to the morning light that shone through the blinds. He tried to shift his cramped arms, but that idea soon left as he realized that his hands were tied together in an expertly done knot. He started to franticly frail his arms, stopping as soon as he heard a floorboard creak.
“I see you’re awake.” Spoke a soft and calm voice directly in front of him. Thorin opened his eyes wider, taking in the picture of one Mr. Baggins, who was sat in a soft looking armchair and sipping from an oversized mug.
“Mr. Baggins? What are you doing here?” He asked, tilting his head to one side. Why was Mr. Baggins, Kili's kindergarten teacher in his apartment, and why was he tied up?
“Good morning Mr. Durinson. Funny, I was just about to ask you the same exact thing,” Mr. Baggins stated, motioning around himself with a free hand, “Why did you break into my flat?”
Thorin turned his head, taking in the view of a colorful looking flat. Every wall was full of bookshelves that were stacked with books of every genre; there were even book piles scattered on the floor. The furniture was all soft and warm colors, and cluttered with all sorts of mementos and knickknacks, very different from his own spartan-like flat.
Then his gaze fell upon a large brown dog, who was curled up on the blue armchair.
“That’s not my dog.” Thorin claimed, breaking the long and awkward silence.
“Of bloody course she isn’t your dog,” Mr. Baggins quipped, rolling his eyes dramatically and letting out a frustrated sigh, “That’s my dog, Myrtle!” The dog, Myrtle, raised her head at the mention of her name, but went back down as soon as she lost interest.
“This isn’t my flat is it,” Thorin noted.
“No. No it is not. It’s mine.” Mr. Baggins sighed, “Now if you mind, I’d like to know why you broke into my flat!”
“Okay, firstly I’d like to apologize for that…” Thorin said, motioning his tied hands towards the door. “So today, or should I say yesterday, was by far not a good day for me.”
“Obviously.”
“Umm… Well, it was one horrid event after another, and one of those was that I left the keys at the office that I work at. So, I weighed my options, calling my friend Dwalin – who has the spare – or breaking down the door. I was pressed for time and was incredibly tired so I decided to break it down.”
“That’s right, you're friends with Dwalin. He would have been furious if you interrupted his date.”
“Now how did you know he is on a date?”
“His date is my flat-mate Ori.”
“I remember hearing a few things about you from Ori now. He may or may not have said the words ‘fussy’ and ‘old fashioned’ in the same sentence.” Thorin laughed but stopped as soon as he realized the rope was rubbing in a not-so-good-way against his wrists.
“Do you mind?” He asked, raising his tied hands.
“You sure you won’t attack me as soon as you’re free?”
“Only if you’re sure you won’t hit me in the back of the head with a frying pan again.”
“Promise.” Mr. Baggins said, finally cracking a small grin. He moved forward to untie Thorin’s bindings, giving the larger man a view of his collar bone, which was sticking out above his jumper.
Thorin licked his lips, rubbing his now red and sore wrists.
“Let me get you some calming cream for that.” Mr. Baggins stated, standing up and motioning for Thorin to follow him. Thorin trailed closely behind him, taking in the sight of the nicely decorated flat.
Mr. Baggins led him to the bathroom, and pushed him to sit down on the toilet. Mr. Baggins reached up towards the medicine cabinet, lifting his cream colored jumper in the process, which revealed his waist – that was covered by jeans that hung loosely over his narrow hips. Thorin suddenly looked away, finding the blue shower curtains very interesting.
“Here,” Mr. Baggins announced, breaking Thorin from his examination of the shower curtain. He took the small silver tin from the smaller man’s hands, opened it and let the smell of mint fill the air.
“Thank you.” Thorin said, giving him a small smile.
“You do know I’m not letting you off the hook right.” Mr. Baggins stated, a small smile playing on his lips.
“I didn’t think that you would. If it’s anything Mr. Baggins-“
“Please, Mr. Baggins was my father. Call me Bilbo,”
“Only if you call me Thorin,” He added with a smile, “Okay, Bilbo, if it’s anything, I’ll pay to have a new door put in.”
“It would be great if you could have someone put in the same door, with some touchups of course, I just got that one repainted,”
“Of course,” Bilbo nodded at his reply, paddling out of the loo into the hallway.
“Tea or coffee?” Thorin heard his voice call.
“Tea please,” Thorin called, putting the tin back where he saw Bilbo get it earlier, and he followed the voice to the kitchen, where Bilbo was setting the kettle.
“You said my name before I even told it to you. How did you know who I am?” Thorin asked, taking a seat on Bilbo’s stool.
“I have your nephew Kíli in my class. I remember seeing your face and reading your name on their contact information.” The smaller man said, setting a cup in front of Thorin.
“Now it’s your turn, how’d you know my name?”
“Just as you said, you teach my youngest nephew, and he always comes home with stories of one Mr. Baggins, he likes you very much. I recognized you because Ori showed me photographs of you and him together before. I think it was at a nature preserve of some sort”
“Ah. Well, would you like some breakfast? I got groceries last night and seeing as my flat-mate is occupied with more pressing matters, I have no one to share with,” Bilbo asked, a shy smile appearing on his face. Thorin nodded, rising from his spot on the stool to help Bilbo clear the table.
---
They talked for over two hours (it was good that today wasn't a school day) about absolutely anything and everything. The topics ranged from favorite movies, foods, restaurants, and books, to even embarrassing stories about Kíli and Fíli’s antics, and even some stories of Bilbo’s cousin Frodo were exchanged.
Bilbo was surprised at how easily the conversation rolled when it came to Thorin. It was like they had known each other in a past life or like they were best friends since birth now reunited. And not at all like Thorin had broken in (and ruined a newly painted door) a few hours prior, and no one mentioned that Bilbo had knocked him out with a frying pan.
But, like every good thing, there was an end. And in this case, what ended it was Thorin’s phone ringing.
“Yeah… Okay, Dis I got it… No, I didn’t mean it like that… Dis wait for a second,” Thorin mumbled into the phone before he heard Dis ending the call. He closed the offending device with a loud snap and a sigh.
“Dis? Your sister Dis?” Bilbo asked, moving now to put their plates in the wash. He remembered the name Dis from the student contact papers. He'd also seen the woman once or twice at the school's open house once or twice. After a second, of being frozen, Thorin stood and followed Bilbo back into the kitchen. It was surprising to Thorin that now he just noticed how big he was compared to Bilbo. Bilbo was almost a whole head shorter than him.
“Yeah, she’s upset because apparently, I blew off some breakfast meeting with some clients.”
“Hope it wasn’t anything important.” Bilbo said, shooing Thorin away after he tried to help with the plates, “No, you are the guest and I am the host, let me do this.”
“It isn’t now,” Thorin stated, and grabbed the dishtowel despite Bilbo’s remark, “I’m a guest who broke down your door. Wiping down a couple of plates is the least I could do.”
“Fine,” Bilbo grumbled, giving in with a pout.
When the plates were all cleaned and dried, Bilbo showed Thorin to the door (which they had to close by putting boxes in front of it because it kept swinging open) so he could leave. Thorin stopped halfway out the door and thought over a few things before quickly turning around to face a surprised Bilbo.
“I know this may be completely out of hand, and I may get a slap in the face for even thinking it, but would you like to go out for coffee sometime… You know, together? As a date? It will be a date. With me,” He stammered out with uncertainty, practically whispering the last part.
Bilbo looked up at him with wide eyes, mouth open slightly, and Thorin began to feel rejected. He quickly turned out of the way but paused when he felt a soft ghost of a hand on his arm.
“You… Here,” Bilbo offered before shoving a piece of paper into Thorin’s free hand. Thorin looked down at him before opening the crumbled paper to reveal a string of numbers. “You know... If the invitation is still open.”
“Of course it’s still open,” Thorin said, giving the curly haired man a brilliant smile that would scare most people, but Bilbo smiled back before he pushed Thorin out of his flat.
"I bet Dis would have your head if you're late," Bilbo joked before tapping Thorin lightly on the arm. "Now go, I look absolutely horrid and I didn't get a wink of sleep last night."
“She’ll probably track me down here and put us both in questioning,” Thorin said, waving the paper in the air, “I’ll call you when I get home.”
“Can’t have her finding me, can we? Bye, bye Burglar.” Bilbo teased before closing the door (as much as it could be closed) and he slid down onto the floor.
“I’m not a burglar!” He heard a muffled voice call on the other side of the door. A goofy grin appeared on Bilbo’s face before he made himself get up and go to the phone in order to call Bofur.
“Hey Bofur, about tonight… No something's come up… That's not the reason, a burglar came in last night and he even broke down my newly painted door! No, I wasn't hurt, but he managed to steal a few things... Well he stole one thing…”