Work Text:
“Look at the fucking fag.”
Dwalin turned his head to look at the idiot who had just spoken, but said idiot wasn’t actually looking at him, he was busy pointing at the bartender. The skinny, sweet looking bartender who happened to wear braids in his rather gorgeous auburn hair, and it was probably those who had prompted the comment.
That it was this bartender in particular who was being abused didn’t have the effect of making Dwalin less mad, if anything it ensured the exact opposite.
He hadn’t been coming to this bar for very long, but he liked it. This time of day it was usually very peaceful and quiet, exactly the sort of place you wanted to go after work to have a drink with a mate. And… It was possible that Dwalin might also like the previously mentioned bartender... but that wasn't influencing his decision to go here. No. It was just conveniently close to both his work and his home. That was all.
Nothing to do with the always friendly and polite bartender with the crooked smile. Dwalin didn't even know his name, which surely was a point in his favour? Or maybe not.
Regardless, Dwalin had never been able to stomach bullies. Not that it made a different if the lad was gay or not, (though one could always hope) Dwalin had never been able to stomach idiots who thought sexuality was based on the way you looked either.
“Do not hit anyone,” Thorin murmured, taking sip of his whiskey. He had obviously noticed the same thing as Dwalin had. “You are twice their size so it’d be hard to claim that it was self-defence.”
“So you’re saying I’m not to benefit from having Dís is my cousin? She could get me out of it.” Dwalin rose to his feet without waiting for Thorin’s reply.
Stupid fucking college kids and their stupid bloody brains thinking that it was ‘cool’ to-
“See something you like?” the bartender asked, raising an eyebrow at the three fucktards snickering into their beers.
“Hell no,” the one who’d spoken up before protested.
“Good, then you won’t might leaving. Right now.”
“You can’t make us leave,” idiot number two protested. “We’ve not done anything.”
“I’ll refund your beers and you’ll leave, or I can wave to my colleague over there,” the lad pointed a finger towards a bear of a man hulking by the main entry. “And he’ll be glad to show you out. But he’s not nearly as nice as I am.”
“Or I would gladly be of service,” Dwalin cut in. He walked over to stand by the fucktard table, squaring his shoulders and folding his arms across his chest. “My ears burned just a minute ago. If you want to look at a fag, you’ve got one right here.”
It might be childish, but Dwalin still enjoyed flexing his muscles and seeing the colour drain out of idiot number two and three’s faces. Idiot number one on the other hand seemed to be a bit more stupid than the rest.
“Fine,” he spit out. “We wouldn’t want to stay anyway.”
The three of them got up, and without accepting the bartender’s much too gracious offer of a refund, they stormed out. Dwalin watched amused how they carefully avoided getting too close to the bouncer as they made for the door. Seeing idiot number one turn his head and glare at the bartender just before he got out wasn’t nearly as funny. He didn’t like the look of that boy for one second.
“Thanks for that,” the bartender smiled at him as Dwalin walked up to the bar to warn him. “Um, I’m sure you are very capable of handling yourself, and I’m not exactly hoping for a repeat of this, but if there should happen to be a next time you’re welcome to just remain at your table. Beorn, my colleague-“ the lad nodded towards the bouncer who was now smiling widely instead of radiating animosity. “He’s trained to handle people like that, and for the sake of our insurance premiums we prefer to let him do it.”
Dwalin rubbed a little sheepishly at his head.
“I take your point,” he said, nodded at younger man. “I just can’t stomach that kind of stupidity.”
“No harm done,” the lad smiled. “Neither furniture nor bones were broken, so we’ll call this a win. And I’ll even buy you a drink if you’d care for one.”
“Maybe some other night,” Dwalin nodded. “My friend and I have to leave soon.” Dwalin was just about to turn around when he remembered. “I didn’t like the look on one of those idiot’s faces when he left. Are you safe getting home after you’ve quit for the night?”
“Beorn always walks all of us to our cars or to the tube” the lad nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
Dwalin hesitated again. “Just in case, I could leave you my number. Who knows, maybe those three will come back on a day when he’s not here. I work just a block away, and I live -“
“Oh, no. You- um, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” the lad said, looking a bit stunned.
“You’re not asking, are you,” Dwalin said with a raised eyebrow. “I’m offering.” He snatched a napkin and reached over the bar desk to grab one of the pens that were offered to sign off on receipts and scribbled down his name and number.
“Well, thank you-“ the lad glanced down. “Dwalin.”
He really did have a nice smile, Dwalin observed as he got to be on the receiving end of a particularly brilliant looking one.
“No trouble,” Dwalin shrugged, awkwardly putting his hands in his pockets.
“I’m Ori, by the way,” the bartender said just as Dwalin was about to turn around.
“Nice to meet you seems like a stupid thing to say,” Dwalin said wryly. “Considering how this isn’t exactly the first time we’ve met. But hell if I know what to say instead.”
“Good-bye might be suitable,” Thorin said from behind Dwalin’s shoulder. “Dís just texted me, can we leave?”
“Aye,” Dwalin nodded. “Good-bye then,” he said to Ori who did a cute little wave and smiled again.
“I’ll see you around, I hope.”
-
“Kill me now,” Ori muttered into his bedspread.
“I’d rather not go to jail, if it’s all the same to you,” Bilbo said without looking up from his text book.
“You could make it look like suicide,” Ori suggested hopefully. “Or what’s the current legislation regarding mercy killings.”
“Just call him and ask him for a date. If he says no, then that’s that.”
“But he didn’t give me his number so I could harass him,” Ori protested. “He was so sweet, I can’t take advantage of that.”
“If you want him to take advantage of you, you better,” Bilbo said, scowling down at his book. “I swear this book makes no sense. None. I would say that it’s like Greek to me, but since it’s actually written in Greek and since I’m supposed to understand Greek, that rather ruins it.”
“That’s what you get for being a genius at languages,” Ori murmured. “I can’t even use English properly and that’s one of my bloody degrees. I rambled at him, and I never ramble. Dori would be appalled.”
“Dori is too busy being appalled at other things,” Bilbo said comfortingly, or as comfortingly as someone with an ever deepening scowl could manage. “Like Nori.”
“I am going to call him,” Ori abruptly decided pushing himself up on his elbows. “What do I’ve got to lose. Except my dignity.”
“That’s the spirit,” Bilbo said, finally looking up from his book. “Except since it’s two o’clock in the morning, you might want to wait until such a time when he might be awake.”
With a groan Ori let himself fall back against his bed once again.
-
Dwalin cursed as his cell phone rang. He hated, hated, hated his phone. It was entirely too tiny. It always felt like he was going to squish it when he tried to use it.
“You need a new phone,” Thorin said drily.
“Shut up, I know, hello?” Dwalin replied in one go, finally managing to press the tiny answer button without accidentally hanging up at the same time.
“Hi, um, it’s Ori, from the Green Dragon. You helped me out yesterday?”
“Are they back and giving you trouble?” he growled, making Thorin look up from his lunch.
“Ah, no actually, I haven’t seen them around. Though that might be because it’s only noon and the fact that I only start working at four... I was actually wondering if you would let me buy you that drink I offered yesterday? Or coffee. Or, umm, dinner?”
Dwalin needed a few moments to go from worried to pleasantly surprised, but unfortunately that short silence seemed to be enough to make Ori jump to the wrong conclusion.
“Or you won’t want to have any of those things. Oh, was it your boyfriend you were with yesterday? Not that I mean that you would want to have coffee if you were single, I’m probably not your type at all. Sorry, I’ll-“
“Would you really want to have dinner, with me?” Dwalin asked over the incoherent rambling on the other end.
Nice, polite people like Ori wasn’t really meant for people like him. And wasn’t Dwalin too old for him? Because he certainly felt too old to have a boyfriend.
“Um, yes? I did call you, didn’t I.”
“You did,” Dwalin agreed.
“So, um, dinner?”
Maybe he was just grateful for the offer to help? Though he when he’d been talking about Thorin being his 'boyfriend' he’d sounded rather disappointed. Hero worship? Seemed unlikely, but if that was the case then dinner should put a pretty good dent in it.
Dwalin had seen what the lad busied himself with when he wasn’t running around with people’s drinks, and he always had his nose stuck down some thick book. The last book Dwalin had read was... Yeah, he didn't even remember.
“I guess you don’t want to go to the Green Dragon,” Dwalin said before he could stop himself. Across the table Thorin had raised an interested eyebrow and Dwalin accidentally stepped on his foot. As if he had any right to get involved in someone else's potential love life's.
“Not particularly.” And Dwalin could hear the brilliant smile from yesterday. “A friend to my brother has this place, down by the riverside, it’s really neat, it’s in an old warehouse but it’s not- they completely redid everything when they opened. He makes the most amazing brisket burgers, and the ribs are really good too. I, um,” Ori suddenly sounded shy again. “Maybe you want to meet me there tomorrow, around seven?”
“You haven’t actually told me the name of this place yet.”
“Oh, Bombur’s. It’s called Bombur’s. Bombur is the owner.”
“Well who could’ve thought,” Dwalin said and immediately felt like smacking himself on the head. Way to sound condensing, asshole. Thankfully Ori just snickered.
“So, you’ll come? That wasn’t your boyfriend?”
“No boyfriend,” Dwalin agrees, wincing a little at the word boyfriend. How old was Ori anyway? He had to be legal or he wouldn’t be working in a place like the Dragon. But he couldn’t be over 25 or Dwalin would eat his non-existing hat. What if he’d just turned 21? It wasn’t pathetic to be 31 and go to dinner with someone who was just out of their teens, right?
Who was he kidding. It was, but he was going to do it anyway.
“Bombur’s, tomorrow at seven o’clock,” Dwalin said slowly. “Meet you there.”
-
“He said yes!” Ori quickly glanced towards his phone, but he had indeed already hung up. He didn’t need to make a fool of himself, again, just yet. Though time was sure to take care of that for him.
“Oh my lord, he said yes.” Ori looked at his phone in horror. “What am I going to do?”
“Go t’ dinner?” Bilbo suggested, words partially muffled by the pen sticking out of his mouth.
-
Learning that Ori was a student made Dwalin feel very old. Being told that he was 24 and in the middle of getting a masters in English Literature and another degree in something, something Art History made Dwalin feel old and stupid. It probably wouldn’t take long for Ori to figure out that he had no business being with someone who’d not even bothered to get even one degree.
Dwalin had learnt how to be a metalsmith from his father and he’d been happy to take over the business after he’d retired. Balin was the smart one in the family, well, together with Dís and Thorin who both also had degrees. And Frerin would probably get one too as soon as he stopped flitting around the globe in search of the meaning of life. Kids these days...
“So do you draw anything yourself?” Dwalin asked, genuinely curious. Ori had good hands for drawing, long but strong looking. Just the type of hands that should be doing pretty things.
“Yes,” Ori nodded. “I do, but it’s just a hobby.”
“I’d like to see them sometimes.” That wasn’t presumptuous of him, right? Fuck, it probably was, and Dwalin’s heart sank a bit when Ori started reaching for his bag. New record, got to be considering that they’d not even gotten their food yet.
“I usually sketch in this,” Ori said, pulling out a somewhat battered sketchbook from the bag, and Dwalin carefully banished any trace of ‘fuck I’m an idiot’ off his face before Ori looked his way again. “If you would like to look,” the red-head added shyly.
“If you don’t mind?”
Ori’s cheeks were suddenly tinged a little pink. “It’s fine. Please, have a look if you want to.”
The drawings were really good. Much too good to just be an hobby. There was everything from quick sketches of people around town to detailed landscapes and drawings of everyday things like pens and cutlery. But what really stood out was the many, many portraits.
When Dwalin realised that he was looking for one of himself the urge to smack himself abruptly rose to dangerous levels. As he turned the next page his eyes widened, but it wasn’t himself that he’d found.
“You know this guy?”
“Um, yes?” Ori looked adorably confused. “He’s my roommate. Erm, why?”
Dwalin contemplated making up something that would sound less insane, but he didn’t much like the idea of lying to Ori.
“Because my mate, the one you thought I was dating, is pining for him like a very large, bearded teenage girl,” Dwalin says. “And I’m not kidding, if I heard he had started writing bad poetry about him I would not be surprised. Your friend works at the bookstore over in the Erebor mall yeah?”
“He does,” Ori chuckled a little. “Small world. I’m afraid your friend is out of luck though, Bilbo-“ Ori suddenly frowned. “Unless... Your friend, he had dark hair, right? And a braid. Blue eyes?”
“Yeah?” Now it’s Dwalin’s turn to be confused, but he’s got a feeling he’s not quite pulling off the adorable aspect of it.
“He wouldn’t happen to work over at the mall as well?”
“He’s owns it actually. But yeah, he's got a store as well. Jewelry.”
Ori burst out laughing. “It really is a small world then. Oh god, Bilbo is going to faint.”
“Because Thorin works at the mall?”
“Because he, Bilbo, has a crush the size of an elephant on this guy who works at the mall, and this guy just happens to be – and I quote – ‘gorgeous with dark hair and the bluest eyes and how can someone that good looking be so annoying, and I want to touch his braid.’
Dwalin blinked.
“I’ve heard him say that too many times,” Ori said with a shrug. “Truly, I could write it down word for word by now. I call it Bilbo’s ‘gorgeous bastard ‘-rant.”
“Bastard?”
“Your friend hasn’t told you that the only thing he’s said to Bilbo so far is that he looks like a grocer?”
Dwalin didn’t actually know that Thorin had spoken to Bilbo at all. His cousin was absolutely crap at anything related to feelings though, so it sounded very likely that he'd managed to put his foot in it. Still:
“A grocer?”
Ori shrugged. “Bilbo said he’d been wearing suspenders at the time, I don’t know if that’s relevant or not.”
Dwalin shook his head. “Well, I’m perfectly willing to supply Thorin’s number if your friend would want to give a call to such a rude bastard. Serves Thorin right.”
Thorin had been infuriatingly smug when he’d realised that Dwalin was going on a date with Ori as he’d been the first one to point out that Dwalin spent an awful lot of his time in the bar by looking at their bartender.
“Yeah, that’d be, I hesitate to say good, but interesting for sure,” Ori smiled.
-
Dinner had been wonderful! And Ori hadn’t actually made a fool of himself even once. And Dwalin had seemed to like his drawings! There hadn’t been any good night kissing but Ori was not going to let that drag him down because they already had another date lined up! The world was a wonderful place!
“Someone sure is happy,” Bilbo said when he caught sight of his friend. “If you smile just a little wider I’m afraid you’re going to get stuck like that.”
“I think he likes me!” Ori said happily. “I’ve never been thankful that there are homophobic idiots before, but I’m starting to really see the point of them if they can make things like this happen. If I knew their names I would order them a fruit basket.”
Bilbo snickered. “Fitting.”
OH. “And you’ll never guess what happened!”
“If he proposed I hope you said no. Bit early to do that on the first date.”
“I guess I should have said, guess who he knows,” Ori amended with a smirk. “Trust me, you’ll want to know this.”