Archive of Our Own

Making a switch to healthy food shouldn’t be that hard, Thorin had figured in the beginning. When his father passed from heart disease, he and Dis had made the plan to switch themselves and Fili and Kili to a more healthy diet than they had been having. They cleared the freezer of frozen pizzas and the cupboards of sugary cereals and fruit snacks and replaced them with fruit bowls and portioned meals. They made an effort to fill the fridge with vegetables and fruits and to cut out more processed foods, but Thorin had to admit that the boys were very much not fond of kale and quinoa, much less himself. Dis probably didn’t like it either, but she was loathe to admit that this health food thing was harder than she had persuaded him it would be. If they were honest to themselves, some of the dishes they had scoured various cookbooks for were truly disgusting.

With his nine-to-five position at the office, he found himself a bit strapped for time, especially when the boys had soccer practice to be picked up from after work, delaying his start time on cooking. Unfortunately, when they were getting in the door late, there was little he could find that was simpler and quicker than frozen pizzas. There was a few ‘healthy’ options for pizza, but he knew they were definitely lacking in comparison to something homecooked. It was a pain to find the right balance of fast, simple, healthy, and actually tasty.

When Thorin found Green Door Good Cooking on Pinterest (which he would never admit he had an account for, much less a well-used one), he was tempted to hug his computer. It was just page upon page of delicious, gourmet-quality meals, all well indexed and with simple directions for him to follow and sometimes even shortcut directions. THey also posted some of those popular videos where it shows hands preparing the food to snazzy music.

The pictures were great too, always shot with a professional camera and great angles. The backdrop was usually of a sunny looking kitchen with white cupboards, apple green wallpaper and vintage appliances. Mister Underhill, the one who ran Green Door Good Cooking, never posted a picture of himself, but there were a few of smiling friends gathered around tables or occasionally his nephew who beamed at the camera with a floured face.

One of the first recipes he had tried was a red sauce seafood pasta, labeled as Shrimp Pappardelle. It was said to take half an hour to cook and Dis had told him that the bag of shrimp in the freezer should be used up soon. Thorin wasn’t sure why they had even bought it, as neither of the kids especially liked seafood unless battered and deep fried into oblivion. (If Thorin were completely honest, he didn’t have a particular love for shrimp either.)

The pappardelle was a broad, flat noodle, but the blog said that fettucine would work as a substitute. Thorin put a broad handful of fettucine into a boiling pot of water with a generous shake of salt. Mr. Underhill had included in a few of his recipes that pasta water should be as salty as the sea, in order to get the right flavor into the noodles and so it would cook at a hotter temperature. Such minute differences had helped Thorin greatly before, so he was sure to follow the little tips included with the blog posts. Mr. Underhill had a clear understanding of what he was making while Thorin had far less so.

Thorin heated a little bit of oil and butter both in a pan before tossing in the shrimp. He stirred it, quickly searing the shrimp until it started to get brown and crisp. He took the shrimp out and set it aside before adding more oil and frying garlic and a touch of crushed red pepper until it started to smell nice. Thorin almost added extra crushed red pepper before he remembered that Kili didn’t like spicy food as much as Thorin and Fili did. He’d just have to add some to his own plate, Thorin decided.

Next he added a can of thick tomato sauce, a favorite brand of his that he picked up at the local health food store, and a dash of heavy cream. As he stirred, it made bright white and red spirals that dissipated into a light red sauce. He tossed the shrimp back into the sauce and added a bit of dried parsley from the pantry. He felt kind of intrigued by tossing ingredients so easily, like a professional.

After he drained the noodles, he tossed the pasta together in the pan and let it sit for a moment. Dis was to be bringing the boys home shortly, after soccer practice, and she was always ready to sit down and just eat after a long day arguing in the courtroom. True enough, she looked nearly dead on her feet as she came in through the door, with two young, dirty-faced boys pushing past her legs. Thorin set out the plates in four place settings. He also put out a bottle of white wine, one of Dis’s favorites. Dis clapped him on the shoulder as she sent the boys off to wash their hands and faces.

“You know, if I actually knew who this blogger guy was, I would kiss him.” She told him, looking appreciatively at the elegant plating. “You’ve really started to get the hang of cooking since you started reading that blog.” She sat the boys down before seating herself across from Thorin. Dis made sure to put an ample serving on her boys’ and her own plates. The boys were a bit cautious to try the pasta, as they both could see the shrimp, and Kili had settled for gnawing on a slice of garlic bread instead of trying it.

Fili took a small bite of the pasta, very cautiously. He hummed a bit and began eating it with much less disdain. Watching his brother, Kili abandoned his garlic bread momentarily to try a bite for himself. It was a slow first few chews, but he began to gulp it down, fast enough that his mother had to admonish him to slow down.

“This is really good, Thorin.” Dis told him. Thorin knew that, as every recipe from the blog had held true to this point. The pasta was warm and comforting, but without being heavy. It wasn’t too spicy either, and both the boys ate it with no complains. It was easy enough to make as well, and Thorin considered making this more often. Maybe next time, he’d add bacon. He was certain Mr. Underhill wouldn’t mind his additions.

After several other marked successes, Dis demanded he use one of the cake recipes for her birthday. Thorin insisted that he felt out of his depth trying to make a cake, as he was not much of a baker, but she insisted that if she used any recipe from Green Door Good Cooking, he was all set. She pushed the laptop into his hands, opened to the ‘Desserts’ page on the blog. Thorin sighed, but relented to her pleading. He didn’t know that this would become a much different project than what he had imagined.

It took a bit of looking before he found anything he wanted to try. It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. He wanted to make something simple, easy, that he wouldn’t be able to mess up, but he didn’t want to present Dis with a white cake and vanilla frosting. That was just too simple, really. He ended up bookmarking something called Strawberry Sparkle Cake. It was an angel food cake with strawberry filling. That would be a sure winner, as Dis loved strawberries dearly. Once she fought someone in the supermarket over the last container.

Thorin didn’t like reliving that day and still can’t go into Mirkwood Groceries.

The recipe gave the recipe to make the angel food cake yourself, but Thorin was half tempted to just get a box mix. Probably two boxes, since their family coming to the get together would be numerous. Surely it wouldn't be too different? He could still follow the steps for the filling and what not. However, when he told these plans to the cashier at Bag End Organics, he nearly had his head ripped off for thinking something so ludicrous.

Bag End Organics was this little shop tucked into the corner of a mall, but it was bright and well it and had the best selection of healthy groceries Thorin had yet to find. Bilbo Baggins, the owner, kept the vegetables well stocked from local farms and had other groceries that were healthy and, of course, organic. Thorin and Dis frequented the store at least once a week and would chat with Bilbo when they stopped in, so it was no surprise that when Thorin was glancing at the strawberries, Bilbo had sidled up to him.

“Those are fresh in today. Got them from a fellow a bit west of here named Beorn. He sells me some great honey too.” Bilbo spoke conversationally, his voice a simple, smooth tenor. Thorin nodded, looking at the recipe he had printed off. “I’m going to need a pound of these.” He told Bilbo, looking the shorter man over.

“These for anything special, or is Dis just craving them again?” Bilbo asked, laughing as he went to get a container.

“Both, in a way.” Thorin admitted, speaking across the store to him. “It’s her birthday in two days and I’m supposed to make her a cake.”

“Strawberry is probably a safe bet.” Bilbo agreed, bringing out a little brown cardboard box. “Is it a Strawberry Shortcake? Or something else?”

“It’s called a Strawberry Sparkle Cake.” Thorin said, nearly flustered at saying the name outloud. He showed the printed out webpage to Bilbo who looked over it for a moment. Bilbo nodded at it.

“Fresh strawberries are probably a better option than frozen, yeah.” Bilbo spoke softly, doling out the pound of berries into the box. “Figured out what you’re doing with the extra egg yolks yet?”

“No, I’m going to just do a box mix…” Thorin admitted, reaching out to take the strawberries. Bilbo pulled them back however, a near horrified expression on his face.

“A box mix!” Bilbo said, setting the strawberries down and putting his hands on his hips. “That’s nearly sacrilege!”

“Well, it’s not that bad.” Thorin said. When he saw Bilbo’s face, Thorin backpedalled. “I can’t possibly…”

“Sure you can.” Bilbo told him, picking up the box and thrusting it into Thorin’s hands regardless. “It doesn’t take much more effort, and it improves it so much.”

“I still don’t think I can do it.” Thorin admitted. “I’m not much of a baker and this is a bit over my head.”

“You know what.” Bilbo told him, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “I know how to make this by the back of hand and I can help you.” Thorin was, well, surprised.

“Help me?”

“Of course. Listen, you take care of the kitchen, I’ll bring the ingredients and the know-how.” Bilbo leaned over the counter with his phone out, showing several pictures of gorgeous looking cakes. One was even covered in blueberries and almond slices. “I bake all the time. I know what I’m about.”

“Are you sure about this?” Thorin asked but Bilbo just waved him off.

“I can help out a beloved customer, believe me.” Bilbo told him with a wide smile. Something about that made Thorin feel, in a strange, weird way, kind of special. It took him a moment before he could shake his head and actually hammer out any sort of a plan. Bilbo would come over tomorrow afternoon, which Thorin had taken off regardless, and they would work on it.

That night, when he related those plans to Dis, she just smiled at him. Not a sweet smile, but a smug, shit-eating grin. Of course, she had a lot of those kind of grins, but Thorin always hated it when she directed them towards him.

“What.” He asked blankly and she smiled wider.

“So, my birthday cake is your excuse for a date?” She teased him.

“Excuse me?” Thorin was startled. A date? It wasn’t a date, and he told her that. His face being flushed didn’t help his case and Dis just laughed at him.

“You’re not a good liar, brother.” She told. “And date or not, you will be spending quite a bit of time with a cute-”

“Dis. Stop.”

“Fine, ruin my fun. Just make my cake delicious.”

Regardless to the fact that he got her to stop, which was a miracle in itself, Thorin felt uncomfortable with the fact that she had even planted the idea of a date in his mind. It wasn’t that Bilbo was undesirable or anything of that fashion, in fact he was rather handsome. Curly brown hair and short stature but still feisty when need be, he was rather attractive...

Dammit Dis.

There was absolutely no reason why he should be awake in his bed in the middle of the night thinking about the possibilities of Bilbo Baggins.

He was thinking about him anyways.

If Thorin was less rational, he might have agreed that Dis was on to something. Thorin was anything but irrational, however, so he ignored the thought as he turned over in his bed. Tomorrow would be fine, it was not a date, and he was not interested in his neighborhood grocer for fuck’s sake.

In the morning, he got to enjoy the mania of putting two boys in the car and bringing them to school. Before they got to that point, however, both boys needed to eat breakfast, brush their teeth, comb their hair and get dressed. It should be something simple, it wasn’t like it was rocket science.

Of course, somewhere in that mix, Kili fell asleep in his oatmeal and when he jerked awake, flung brown sugar flavored mush all over the dining room floor. Fili stepped in it and tracked it through the living room and into the bathroom, where he proceeded to get bright cerulean toothpaste smeared over the ceramic basin.

Then Fili couldn’t find his left shoe, which they had to tear through the mess of a front room for. By the time they found it, Fili had lost his right shoe in the mess, so they had to look through it again. Kili smacked into the frame on his way out the door and lost his loose tooth, which he insisted go into an envelope immediately and under his pillow. At least Thorin persuaded him not to bring it to school for show and tell.

They made it to school just an eyelash width away from being late. Thorin slumped in his seat as the boys raced off with happy cheers to ‘Have a good day Uncle!’. If the morning was any indication as to how his day would go, there would be a murder by four o’clock. Maybe three if he was impatient.

When he got to the office, he was bothered nearly all morning by his colleagues about taking the afternoon off. Dwalin and Nori were particularly bad about it, Nori even more so when he refused to tell them the reason.

“Come on, Thorin taking the afternoon off without being on his deathbed?” Nori snickered from his side. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’ve taken the day off before.” Thorin defended himself.

“Not for a personal day.” Dwalin interrupted. “You would take it off if you were doing something with the boys, but I know Dis has them tonight.”

“How would you know that?” Thorin fired back, knowing fully well that Dwalin and Dis talk, being related and all, but unwilling to not have the last word.

“Because I’m going with them to the museum tonight. Dis asked for a hand in keeping them tethered while they give you some ‘alone time’ for your date.” Dwalin told him with a smirk and Nori’s eyes lit up like a firework.

“A date?” He drawled, leaning against Thorin’s desk. Thorin stopped his typing and smacked his head against his desk.

Dammit Dis.

By the time he left the office at noon, he was thoroughly harassed and almost embarrassed about scurrying off. He couldn’t puzzle why everyone made such a big deal about Bilbo coming over.

“I mean, even if it was a date, it’s not like I’ve never dated.” Thorin muttered to himself, fully aware that he hadn’t been in a relationship since Kili was born. There were casual dates, of course, but nothing serious. Maybe it was time to put himself out there a bit more. He wasn’t getting any younger, after all.

All dating ideas could wait though. He had to get home and make sure the house was decently presentable. There more than likely oatmeal still smeared somewhere and he wanted to unload the dishes in the dishwasher. If he had time, a shower wouldn’t be remissed.

The cleaning was less than he thought, so he was able to take a shower like planned. When he stepped out, he took his chin in his hand and looked in the mirror. Maybe the beard should go? Was clean shaven a better look? Would Bilbo like it or did he like the beard?

Thorin nearly smacked himself. Why on earth did he care if Bilbo liked his damn facial hair? Too many wayward comments from his sister and friends probably soured his mind. It was stupid, why should he care? He decided the beard would definitely stay, as he tied his long black hair up into a loose ponytail, but if he used his more expensive cologne, no one would need to know but him.

When he entered his bedroom, he looked at his work clothes that were laying out. They would probably be fine. A simple button-up and slacks would work, right? There was still a shimmer of doubt. He wanted to look nice, but not overly nice or fancy. Definitely not formalwear but did a ratty t-shirt and jeans really fit either?

He ended up throwing on black t-shirt and his slacks from earlier. After a moment, he put on his button-up but left it open and rolled up the sleeves, to keep them out of his way. He spent an embarrassing long amount of time standing in front of the mirror adjusting the way his hair fell and how his shirt was tucked.

Thorin was buttoning up his shirt halfway when the doorbell rung. He caught himself rushing to the room, so he adjusted to a brisk walk, a weird jaunting movement that he hoped didn’t make him look stupid as he opened up the door. Bilbo looked the same as always, but rather different too.

He was the same Bilbo, with swooping brown curls brushing over his forehead and the tips of his slightly pointed ears and wide green eyes, but he wasn’t in the green apron and tan khakis characteristic of Bag End Organics. He wore a plaid short sleeved buttoned-up shirt and a pair of near immaculate jeans. Bilbo brushed a hand through his hair quickly.

“Hello.”

“Hello.”

They stood in the door for an awkward moment while Thorin glanced over Bilbo’s rosy cheeks and slightly parted lips until they moved to speak again.

“Can I come in?” He asked, hefting the grocery bags in his hands up where they were easily seen. Thorin stood dumbly for a moment before shaking his head.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Thorin said, moving out of the way slightly to allow Bilbo through while hooking his hand through the handles of one of the bags Bilbo was carrying.

“Oh! Thank you.” Bilbo said, allowing Thorin to take it. “Now, which way is the kitchen?” The shorter man looked at the front room and then beyond to the living room before Thorin guided him to the right where the kitchen was waiting.

“Wow.” Bilbo said simply as he set down his bags on the counter and Thorin followed suit. “This is...gorgeous.” Bilbo stepped carefully through the modern kitchen with its shiny metallic appliances and white countertops. “You know, mine has much more dated look.” Bilbo joked with a smile. “But I like the vintage, you know?”

“Dis insisted on a modern kitchen when we bought the house.” Thorin said, unpacking the organic groceries from the canvas bag. “We grew up with an oven that only heated when it felt like it and Dis wanted to be sure that when she put cookies in the oven, they wouldn’t be raw in the middle and burnt on the outside.” Bilbo let out a small, good natured laugh.

“I imagine. Speaking of Dis, we should get started on the cake before we run out of time to frost it.”

“Yes, right.” Thorin agreed. Bilbo smiled again, a small one, but radiant all the same. It was cute, Thorin thought. He loved Bilbo’s smiles, regardless of their size because they were nearly always bright in intensity. But enough about smiles, Thorin also thought.

Thorin set the printed out recipe on the counter and began getting out the various utensils and bowls they would be needing. Bilbo went to the sink and began washing his hands. Thorin laughed quietly at himself as he set one of the mixing bowls down.

“I should have gotten these out before you came.” Thorin admitted softly. Instead of preparing to bake, he had been preparing himself like he was going out on the town, and he was kind of embarrassed about it.

“No worries.” Bilbo smiled again. He dried his hands on one of the towels hanging from the oven door. “I didn’t expect it anyways.” He said as he took out some more materials from his bags. Once Thorin and Bilbo had all the ingredients and utensils set out, Bilbo took the hand mixer he brought and a carton of egg whites.

“Can you sift the sugar?” He asked, measuring out the egg whites. “I’m going to need it here in a bit.” Thorin took the sifter Bilbo also brought and measured out the’ sugar and sifted it through a few times. When he accidentally spilled about a quarter cup’s worth, Bilbo giggled a little and Thorin felt a bit flustered.

Thorin finished sifting and looked over at Bilbo, who was using the mixer to beat the egg whites. The eggs looked a lot less like weird slime and more like foam. It was still liquidy, but with lots of bubbles. Bilbo turned off the mixer after a bit longer and set it to the side before reaching in front of Thorin for a small container.

“What is that?” Thorin asked, handing Bilbo the teaspoon when prompted.

“It’s cream of tartar.” Bilbo told him, scooping some out and plopping it in the mixture. “Could you sift the flour and salt now, please? In a separate bowl from the sugar.” Bilbo asked before continuing. “Cream of tartar helps keep the eggs stable and makes sure it doesn’t collapse.”

Thorin nodded, measuring out the flour like requested of him. He looked back at Bilbo, who had started the hand mixer again and was beating the egg whites with the cream of tartar. The light from the window had started to shine through a bit brighter and reflected off of Bilbo’s hair. It was more of a honeyed brown in the light, and it caught each curl just right.

Thorin had to stop measuring abruptly as he almost sifted in an extra cup of flour while he wasn’t paying attention. As he finished sifting, he looked back at Bilbo. His face was concentrated, serious and focused, until Bilbo looked up and saw he was being observed.

“Did you want to look?” Bilbo asked, moving aside a bit so Thorin could move in closer. The egg whites were fluffy, for lack of other words to describe them. They were almost like whipped cream or, if Thorin were a more eloquent man, like clouds.

“Now for the next bit. Can you hand me the sugar?” Thorin passed the bowl, pausing as Bilbo’s slightly smaller hands brushed over his as he took the bowl. Bilbo turned the mixer on a lower speed and gently fed the sugar in. The egg whites were still fluffy but more rich and less liquid now.

“You know, whenever I make this, I always want to just dip my hands in.” Bilbo told Thorin softly. “I know I shouldn’t, but it looks so soft!” Bilbo laughed at himself, and Thorin chuckled with him. Bilbo looked up a little abruptly for a moment and then his face softened a little.

When Bilbo turned the mixer off, Thorin had a moment of utter silliness and dipped one finger in the creamy egg mixture and promptly smeared it across the bridge of Bilbo’s nose. Bilbo gasped, the egg spattered over his cheekbones. Then he got a wicked look on his face and took the tips of his fingers, skimmed them over the top of the bowl and made to smack Thorin with it.

Thorin saw the return attack coming and tried to block it but only succeeded in catapulting the foam from Bilbo’s fingers to be flung against his mouth. Thorin was nearly tempted to lick it and used his free hand to try to wipe it off instead, probably further plastering his beard.

Bilbo’s face scrunched up in giggling delight and just started laughing. Thorin watched him just break down laughing, almost dumbly. Then he started to let out a small, rumbling chuckle. Then it grew until it was full out laughing, still holding Bilbo’s hand. His hand was warm and the laughter was warmer.

“I’m sorry, that’s just-!” Bilbo collapsed into more laughter. “It’s just-Oh gosh, your face!”

“Do you really have room to say anything?” Thorin said, swiping his finger across Bilbo’s nose, wiping up some of the mix from his face. Bilbo’s dazzling green eyes looked up at him and they were breathtaking. The light danced across the emerald irises and the sparkling brown flecks.

Thorin adjusted himself awkwardly, standing up almost suddenly. He did reach out his opposite hand to help Bilbo stand as well, clearing his throat. “We should probably not waste anymore of the batter.” Thorin said, refusing to look at Bilbo’s confused face.

“I suppose so.” Bilbo said quietly. He began gently spooning the flour into the bowl, almost pointedly not looking towards Thorin. Thorin took his time to observe Bilbo again. Was it so bad that Thorin just wanted to kiss him? Just to feel those soft curls in his hands?

Well, probably not, but also yes. He was not a stranger and he got along with the boys, which was a good portion of his criteria, but Thorin was unsure of how Bilbo m’ight return his affections, if at all. Thorin was unsure about his feeling, himself. How could he expect anything of Bilbo when he couldn’t expect much from himself?

“Hand me the vanilla?” Bilbo asked softly, almost biting his soft looking lips, breaking Thorin’s revelrie. Thorin handed him the bottle nearly wordlessly. The spoon swirling through the fluffed batter and occasionally scraping against the sides was enough for now. It was an awkward, pregnant silence besides, but that would have to do.

“Oh, could you-?” Bilbo asked gently, nodding to the angel food batter and then the two pans they would be putting them into. Thorin held one tube pan steady as Bilbo scraped out the batter in rolling, soft swells and then the other pan. Bilbo put down the bowl and started smoothing out the batter at the top of the pans but Thorin was loathe to remove his hands from the sides. Bilbo was close enough that Thorin could feel warmth nearly radiating off the smaller man.

When Bilbo turned, Thorin reluctantly let go, so the pans could be put into the prepared oven. Bilbo fiddled with the top panel of the oven for a moment before his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Thorin? I just can’t figure out how to set your timer.” Bilbo pouted. Thorin smiled slightly, moving behind Bilbo and leaning past him to set the timer for forty minutes.

“You press timer, then these buttons to adjust time. Then you press timer again and then start.” Thorin told him, that familiar warmth very nearly pressed against his front as he demonstrated.

“Okay, I think I got it.” Bilbo said quietly. He seemed almost flustered. “I have an egg timer at home, nothing so fancy.” He said quickly. “Not that this isn’t neat too, but it’s a bit easier to just twist than to press all these buttons.”

“I suppose so.” Thorin agreed. Bilbo nodded before he ducked under Thorin’s arm to the counter.

“If you can boil the water...?” Bilbo half asked, searching for the gelatin package. Thorin frowned at the lack of presence next to him but did as asked regardless. He took one of the bowls out and Bilbo poured the package of strawberry gelatin into it. Thorin began washing the strawberries in the sink as Bilbo mixed together the gelatin. When the strawberries were washed, Thorin took out a paring knife and began slicing the tops off. When the tops were off, Bilbo took them, and also using a small knife, sliced them into thin slices. They worked in mildly comfortable silence.

When the strawberries were all sliced, Bilbo put them into the gelatin and mixed, creating a thickened syrup. Thorin covered it with plastic wrap and put it in the fridge. It would be a bit before the cakes were done, much less cooled. There wasn’t much left to do, and the whipped cream for the icing would have to wait until the cake was ready.

Thorin stood with his hands on his hips, slightly turned from the fridge and Bilbo was leaning against the counter, relaxed slightly.

“I...thank you for helping me.” Thorin said feebly.

“It’s no problem.” Bilbo smiled.

They stood quietly for a moment. Thorin stepped towards Bilbo and leaned against the counter as well. There was still egg whites on Bilbo’s face, slightly crusty and crisp. Thorin reached out his hand and used the pad of his thumb to brush it off of Bilbo’s fair cheekbones. He almost paused against the corner of Bilbo’s mouth and slowly withdrew his hand anyways.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Bilbo exclaimed and took two handfuls of Thorin’s shirt and pulled. The kiss was quick and less than elegant, but it was perfect. It caught him by surprise, but when Bilbo started to pull away, Thorin wrapped his arms around Bilbo’s waist and leaned right back in. After some time, they both leaned back slightly, but neither left each other’s space. Bilbo rested his forehead against Thorin’s and exhaled happily.

“It was about time.”

“Did you-?” Thorin asked the million dollar question.

“Yes.”

“...Do you want to-?”

“Oh gods yes.”

Unfortunately, the timer went off with a loud chirping sound. They were tempted to simply ignore it, but the threat of Dis’s birthday cakes being burned would be the death of both of them. Either being uninterested in impending doom, Bilbo moved to the oven as Thorin pulled out a pair of oven mitts and handed them over. Bilbo took out both pans and set them down.

“Do you have wine bottles?” He asked and Thorin pulled out two bottles from one of the higher cupboards.

“Isn’t it a bit early to drink?” Thorin teased but Bilbo just laughed and shook his head.

“Just set them on the counter.” Bilbo said. When Thorin set them down, Bilbo upended the pans on the wine bottles, keeping the cakes upside down. “It’s to keep it fluffy.” Bilbo explained.

The silence returned to them in this moment. The air was stiff and hard and their eyes glanced to each other; steely blue meeting livacious green. The air began to thrum with tension as Bilbo stepped back to Thorin. Bilbo moved under Thorin’s arms and against his chest like the fitting puzzle piece. The curve of Thorin’s neck left the space for Bilbo’s head to rest. The gentle contour of Bilbo’s arms linked under Thorin’s broad arms to join in the small of his back.

They rested there a moment, in a state of intimacy that neither quite knew before. They clicked together. It was like a model airplane. All the pieces were there, waiting to be just put together and to be interlocked in just the right way. They found that the pieces all matched. They stood in the kitchen for what may have been an embarrassing long time, just sort of holding each other. It felt like the right thing to do, so they continued, doing no more than maybe shuffling a little to reposition an arm. Eventually Bilbo shifted backwards a touch, his eyes meeting Thorin’s again.

“Sorry, I just don’t…” Bilbo started, but he could not find a way to end.

“I think I understand the predicament.” Thorin said back, breathy with a hint of exhale.

“Where on earth do we go from here?” Bilbo asked softly.

“I’m not sure.” Thorin admitted. “I don’t know what to make of this.”

Bilbo gave a low hum. He touched his forehead to Thorin’s again, and this is when Thorin realised that Bilbo had to stretch to his tiptoes to do so.Thorin crinkled his nose and laughed gravelly.

“Think the cake is cooled?” Bilbo asked, almost cheekily and Thorin chuckled again.

“Perhaps.”

Bilbo checked over the cakes and deemed them cool enough. Thorin took the filling out of the fridge as Bilbo set his hand mixer back up. They moved around and about in a elegant way, precise and like clockwork. It was a dance now, in a way. Bilbo began mixing whipped cream as Thorin stirred the strawberry syrup, which had begun to gel, and measured out a bit to add to the whipped cream.

They cut open the top of the cakes and dug out bits of angel food to create a hollow on the cakes that they filled with sweet, sticky gelatin syrup. They replaced the tops and swirled whipped cream over the cakes, this time not getting into a fight with sticky foam. The cakes were set in the back of the fridge to finish setting and to await tomorrow.

The cakes finished, Bilbo and Thorin nearly slumped against each other. Thorin took Bilbo’s hand and lead him over to the living room. Thorin sat on the one side of the couch and Bilbo nearly immediately snuggled in against his side. Thorin let out a soft whistling exhale.

“I should thank you again.” Thorin said gently, with a rumble of his smooth timbre.

“For helping make the cakes?” Bilbo mused, a smile wry smile on his face.

“Yes, that too I suppose.” Thorin reflected.

“And what else for?” Bilbo asked, turning slightly. Thorin found himself a sort of speechless. He had no words to say what he was thankful for, for what he was contented with. Bilbo graciously left it at that for him. He let the words hang in the comfortable lull. It was quiet, peaceful for some time before Bilbo softly sighed.

“I’m sorry Thorin, but I need to get going.” He said, regretfully. “I’m due to pick up my nephew soon.” Thorin would not begrudge him that, but he almost wished he could just keep Bilbo here. The smaller hand laying on top of his, the curls brushing against the skin of his throat, it all felt good and right. He must admit defeat this time, he knew though.

He reluctantly moved his arms and released Bilbo. He rose soon after the smaller, however, and walked him to the kitchen. Thorin helped pack up the things Bilbo brought. It was much like the previous silences, but a touch more strained. Thorin walked Bibo to the front door and Bilbo stepped out onto the front step. He turned around, the slowly dimming light crowning him with a halo of sunlight.

“I hope Dis likes her cakes, at any rate.” Bilbo said quietly, his bags in front of him like a shy schoolchild.

“I’m sure she will.” Thorin replied, just as tenderly.

“Well…” Bilbo trailed off.

“I would invite you tomorrow, but I’m afraid During family gatherings are a bit much for the uninitiated.” Thorin warned. Then he hazarded a small smile. “But I would like to invite you out for coffee, perhaps on Sunday?”

“Make it hot chocolate, and I accept.” Bilbo told him cheekily.

“I suppose I can make that sacrifice.” Thorin said gingerly, moving slightly closer.

“Silly man.” Bilbo huffed, closing the gap between them and pressing his pouty lips against Thorin’s thin ones.

It was far too soon when Bilbo finally shifted back and stepped off the porch. He put the canvas bags into the passenger seat of his fern green Mercury Sable. He opened the driver’s side door and started the car. As he reversed out of the driveway, Thorin watched him from the door with a small smile on his face. Bilbo waved at him and waited for Thorin to flutter his hand back at him before accelerating down the street.

It wasn’t until he had already shut the door when Thorin realised he hadn’t gotten Bilbo’s phone number. He could always reach him at the store, he supposed, but that was rather impersonal. When Thorin found the business card on the counter, however, he smiled. Scrawled across the back of the Bag End Organics card was several digits and a silly looking smiley face with a large tongue sticking out. If Thorin tucked it into his wallet, so as to not lose it, even after entering the number in his phone contacts, no one needed to know.

The cakes turned out to be a great hit at the party. Dis had the honor of cutting them, as Kili brought out one and Fili the other. Thorin had to smack her hand to get her to not swipe a finger across the whipped cream, to which she pouted.

“Oh come on, Thorin.” She whined, jokingly. “It’s my birthday!”

“Well, then the birthday girl better get ready to blow out her candles.” Dwalin roared from behind them. Bofur started up the tune on his flute and Kili and Fili were trying to follow along on their violins as the rest sang.

Despite the few off violin notes and loud, roaring voices, the birthday song was it’s own kind of special as Dis blew out the candles. Balin picked them out of the cake and Thorin handed the cake knife to Dis to cut with. Dis set the knife to the edge of the cake and pressed down, revealing a bit of red on her knife.

“Thorin?” She asked, almost amused but he motioned for her to keep cutting. She did the next cut and took out the slice, to reveal a strawberry filled angel food cake. “Oh Thorin.” Dis sighed, looking at her big brother with a doting grin.

“Well,” Thorin said, beginning to cut the other cake. “I could only do the best for my little sister.” He said.

“You’re telling me Uncle made that?” Kili said, distributing out the cut pieces of cake, a few of which were mysteriously missing a finger’s width of whipped cream.

“Why do you think we went to the museum? So Thorin and Mr. Boggins could make it.” Fili said smartly.

“Baggins, darling.” Dis corrected, handing him his own slice of cake.

“I gotta hand it to you two.” Gloin said. “This cake is nearly as good as one of Thaunli’s.” He referred to his wife, of course, as he usually did.

“It is really good.” Gimli, his son, agreed.

The party went on greatly, and they were having the time of their lives for the rest of the night, but not without some more jabbing at Thorin for his ‘baking date’. Thorin let it brush off, however, like water off an oiled fabric.

When Dis closed the door behind the last guest, she whipped around to face her brother. “So, what happened with you and Bilbo?” She demanded. “You were so cheerful the whole night and you were even smiling. You didn’t even let Dwalin’s teasing get to you.”

Thorin shrugged with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I’m not sure what you mean, sister dear.”

“Bullfuck.” Dis insisted.

“We’re going out for coffee tomorrow afternoon.” Thorin relented. Dis’s face softened and her smile grew.

“I see.” She said. “Just make sure you wear something nice.” Dis told him, brushing past him with a quick, sisterly peck on his cheek. It was easier than Thorin had expected it to be, but Dis also knew boundaries and could probably feel that Thorin had been teased enough over this.

“Thank you, Dis.” Thorin called back to her quietly.

“Of course.”

On sunday morning, Thorin was abuzz with a similar energy as he had been the other night. When he came out of the shower and found clothes already laid out for him, most likely by Dis, Thorin allowed it. The simple white v-neck shirt and dark jeans seemed like a decent choice. Thorin put on one of his belts and then the leather jacket that Dis had set out.

When Thorin stepped out of his room, Dis looked him over. She then brushed his hair back behind his ears and looked at the small braid he had put on either side of his temples, as he usually did. She then went off to the bathroom wordlessly and returned with a ponytail.

“It’s looks good up, and I know Bilbo likes it like that as well.” She insisted.

“How do you-?” Thorin started, but thought better of it. “Nevermind.”

“Sisters have the best advice.” Dis sing-songed.

Thorin almost snorted at that, but allowed her to do some ‘final touches’. He had messaged Bilbo and they were going to meet up at this little coffee place called Dale’s. Thorin left earlier, so he ended up sitting in the coffee house for a bit. He was a bit nervous about it, but didn’t want to seem like it, so he sat down in a corner booth with enough room from everyone else, and with a vantage point to see when Bilbo arrived.

He took out his phone to bide his time in the meanwhile. After checking his Facebook for moment, he decided to open up Green Door Good Cooking. He usually didn’t, but he was tempted to leave a good review on the Strawberry Sparkle Cake recipe. Thorin did notice a new entry. It was a recipe for a Blueberry Almond Coffee Cake. It was a bit intriguing, especially since it wasn’t an expected entry. Mr. Underhill usually updated on Wednesdays, but this was updated yesterday.

“I am glad the weekend is finally here. It’s been a long week, believe me! But there have been some excellent points as well. I got to have Frodo over for the evening, which was great, but I also had an amazing afternoon. I helped a good friend of mine make cake for an upcoming birthday party, and wouldn’t you know it, we’re going to be going out for coffee later!”

Thorin frowned slightly. This entry was sounding awfully familiar to his own Friday afternoon.

“I haven’t been able to get in the kitchen as often as I want recently, but I was able to make this coffee cake the other day, which is rather fitting for this time. This recipe makes two cakes, one of which I had stored in the freezer for another day. My cousin loves coffee cakes, so I had this waiting for her when she came to get Frodo this morning. Frodo likes it with a glass of milk, but Prim likes it best with black coffee. Silly woman, but alas, what can I do? I prefer hot chocolate myself.-”

There, in the center of the green webpage was a very familiar picture of a cake covered in blueberry and almond slices. The backdrop was the apple green kitchen. As the pieces fell into place, Thorin didn’t know exactly what to feel. The bell above the coffee shop door let out a joyous ringing sound and Thorin looked up to see Bilbo’s green eyes meet his own.

“Thorin!” Bilbo said, stepping briskly towards the booth where Thorin was sitting. “I’m not late, am I? I got into some trouble…” He looked at Thorin’s face, his eyes flickering over him.

“What’s wrong?” Bilbo asked.

“What is this?” Thorin asked, holding his phone up to Bilbo, the cake picture very prominent. The screen light illuminating his face lightly. Bilbo’s face changed from worry to an almost apprehensive one. Those green eyes flit from the phone screen to Thorin's face.

“It’s a cake.” Bilbo said, making an awkward attempt to joke. Thorin was less amused.

“You are Mr. Underhill, aren’t you?” Thorin said. Bilbo exhaled in a huff and sat on the opposite side of the booth from Thorin.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Thorin asked, becoming irritated. He had thought that he could, what was the word, the feeling he wanted? He thought he could trust Bilbo, but he wouldn’t share this with him? Bilbo kept this from him?

“Honestly…” Bilbo started, biting his lip slightly. “I thought it was kind of cute, and flattering.”

“Cute?” Thorin asked, puzzled.

“Well, you were placing your faith in the blog, but you didn’t know it was me behind it. It...Well, it was kind of confidence boosting really. And you were so confident about Mr. Underhill that it made me feel so much better about all of it.” Bilbo said, waving his hand through the air vaguely.

Thorin felt still a little sting of unhappiness, but he also felt that glimmer of understanding. He knew what Bilbo hadn’t done it maliciously, at least.

“I’m not sure if I can forgive you yet.” Thorin said softly. Bilbo’s face drooped slightly and he made a motion to stand again. “Unless…” Thorin continued.

“Unless?” Bilbo asked him.

“You help me make that Blackberry Shortcake for Kili’s birthday.”

Bilbo smiled.

“You have yourself a deal, Mr. Durin.”