Chapter Text
This is an early story, taking place about two months after Fili’s permanent move home to Erebor after earning his doctorate. It is also proof that these two are both utter sex god band leaders, and total dorks.
——
When Fili and Kili moved into their new house, they owned the following:
1. one king-sized bed, with sheets, a gift from their “Uncle” Dwalin (this was delivered the day before Fili arrived and the pair took residence, and never spoken of directly; Dwalin would have blushed and blustered and then gotten pissy if questioned about it)
2. one childhood dresser from Kili’s old bedroom, with cartoon stickers adorning the drawers
3. a brand new set of kitchenware from their parents
4. the television and gaming system Fili brought home from college, perched on
5. his childhood dresser, which was painted a distressing shade of orange
6. approximately five million pillows
The pillows were Kili’s fault.
He picked out the apartment under the guidance of their father, who had promised Fíli that he wouldn’t let Kíli buy the most “interesting” place he could find. He’d gently guided Kíli away from various “unique” fixer-uppers and “artistic garden homes” and toward a sensible and safe apartment in a small complex not too far from their parents’ rooms. Kíli insisted, however, that he and Fíli would set everything else up together, it’d be fun, really, no dad, we don’t need furniture Fíli will be here soon.
But then the house looked empty.
Their house looked empty.
And Kíli didn’t want Fíli coming home to an empty house.
So he went shopping.
Only, it was all a bit overwhelming and none of it seemed to match, and he really would rather pick out things like living room furniture with Fíli at his side (Fíli, who was graduating and would finally come home to stay, doctorate in hand), so what he ended up buying was pillows.
Lots of pillows.
Big pillows, little pillows, body pillows, decorative pillows, even one pillow big enough they probably could get away with calling it a guest bed.
By the time Fíli actually arrived, there were enough pillows in their new apartment to build a sizable nest in front of the fire, which came in very handy those first few days back, when they were extremely busy and couldn’t be bothered to leave the house.
Luckily, most of the pillows had removable covers for easy cleaning.
—-
The blizzard came two months after Fíli’s return home.
It was billed by the news as “the worst storm of the century,” though Fíli and Kíli knew their friendly elderly neighbors (who adored the “nice young couple who carried in their groceries”) would have opinions about that assertion next market day. As far as they were concerned, it was bad enough; snow piled on the mountain and covered the small windows along one side of their apartment, and the power went out four hours in. Luckily, Fíli kept an eye on the news and made sure they were well stocked with firewood, so when the lights went out they already had a fire burning cheerfully for light and warmth.
Well, some warmth. It went as far as the living room, at least, but no farther.
Which was where Kíli’s long-established nesting tendencies came into play.
“I’m going to build a fort,” he announced cheerfully, gathering up all the pillows and putting them in an embarrassingly vast pile near the fire.
Fíli kicked a few that had tumbled too close for comfort away. “We’re not twenty, you know.”
“I know,” Kíli agreed, “that’s why we’ll be able to share one instead of having to build two, and we won’t have to keep some for ammunition,” here he glared at Fíli, who smirked back, because Fíli had always, always hoarded the ammunition pillows until he had them all and then utterly destroyed impatient Kíli in a final assault, “which means it’ll be epic.”
“Epic,” Fíli said doubtfully. “An epic pillow fort.”
“Oh ye of little faith.” Kíli tsked sadly. “Watch and learn.”
Fíli watched.
Their mother had begun threatening to kidnap them and force them into a shopping trip with their father if they didn’t buy some kind of living room furniture. They had, out of a sense of self-preservation, purchased one comfortable brown love seat. This became the backbone of Kíli’s fort.
“A loveseat,” Fíli pointed out from his position comfortably settled on the hearth, feet near the flames, “is not a pillow.”
“I’m using it as infrastructure for the cushions,” Kíli argued cheerfully, demonstrating by removing the two firm sofa cushions and lining the front with them.
Seven minutes into construction (Fíli knew because he was timing it) Kíli instructed him to grab the torch and go get the sheets off the bed.
“Sheets,” Fíli told him, “also aren’t pillows.”
“Stop being a pedantic old fart and get the sheets,” Kíli shot back, then muttered, “It’s like living with a two hundred year old auntie” when Fíli’s back was turned.
Brat.
Twenty-seven and a half minutes after he began, Kíli presented his final product with all the pride of a master architect opening a new shopping mall.
And Fíli had to admit, it was epic.
Tall enough to sit up in with some headroom left over, open to the fireplace, well draped on both sides and carefully fortified to prevent disastrous loss of pillow walls, this was the sort of fort a dwarf could be proud of.
“Nice,” he said, and Kíli absolutely beamed at him before ceremoniously shoving him down and inside.
“It’ll be warmer in here,” he assured his brother. “You’ll see.”
“Ow! Kíli, I can get in on my own-”
“Sure you can but see, I’ve set up your favorite pillow just here for your head,” Kíli grinned and slotted Fíli into place, “and it’ll be even warmer when you’ve a proper blanket.”
“There aren’t any blankets left. You used the heavy one for the floor-ah. I see,” he interrupted himself as Kíli stretched happily on top of him, making a soft, pleased humming noise that warmed Fíli’s heart and a couple of other places as well, for bonus. “That’ll do.”
Their fingers tangled together, Fíli’s under Kíli’s, as his brother kissed him, slow and lazy and utterly pleased with himself. He had cause to be, his work really was clever, and Fíli thanked him for it with little nips to his lip and arching to meet the inevitable lazy thrusts that came from such prolonged contact.
Eventually Kíli let go, slightly chilled fingers working on the buttons of Fíli’s vest, lips against Fíli’s neck.
“We’ll knock the pillows over.”
“We won’t if you stay still,” Kíli answered with a grin.
Fíli raised his eyebrows. “Generally, when we have sex, I move around.”
“Well then,” Kíli shifted off to slip Fíli’s pants off with the ease of long practice (albeit aided and abetted by the instinctive lift of Fíli’s hips, “this’ll be a different kind of sex, won’t it?”
Fíli grinned.
Kíli stripped down as well, all warm skin and dark curls in the firelight, and Fíli had to fight hard indeed not to sit up and reach out and pull that waist where he could lick and suck and-
Kíli slid comfortably on top of him, straddling his waist with a saucy roll of his hips. “We’ve done this before,” Fíli said, reaching out to run pleased fingers along Kíli’s waist. He loved the look of Kíli’s stomach, the dark trail of hair leading down to one of his very favorite bits.
“Yes,” Kíli agreed, leaning down – not for a kiss, as Fíli suspected, but instead to flick one of his collection of pillows out of the way with a soft tah dah for showmanship. Resting on the pillow beneath was a small bottle of lube.
“You hid lube in your pillow fort.”
“Of course. I like to be prepared.” Kíli wiggled, utterly pleased with himself. “Now get those fingers of yours to work. Practice is important to maintain skills.” He scooted up a bit and lifted his hips.
He let out a familiar and well-loved moan when Fíli slipped slick fingers inside – a little too much lube again, but it was fine; he loved watching Kíli’s face, the way his hips would move as he looked for certain angles, how he rocked them for the stretch of it.
He hoped he never stopped feeling this warm awe in his chest that Kíli let him do this, that he could make his brother feel so good with just his fingers and breathless kisses.
Kíli could be impatient sometimes, but this time he held out for two fingers, wiggled up Fíli’s body for three (Fíli’s mouth mercilessly teasing his sensitive nipples), purred approval as he slid down and slid a condom on Fíli (flicker of teasing tongue), wrapping his own slick hands around Fíli and stroking. Fíli prepared to flip them over, but Kíli pinned him down (hands on Fíli’s shoulders in a way that sent a little shock of lust through him) and rocked against his groin instead.
“Kíli?”
Kíli moved again, thighs tightening against Fíli’s as he lifted and lowered his hips – and scowled.
He looked adorable like that, not that Fíli would dare tell him so. It also felt good – good but not enough, the uneven friction and Kíli’s awkward movements. “Baby?”
“It’s just…” Kíli wiggled, and the effect on Fíli’s erection was immediate. He’d be perfectly happy to grab Kíli’s hips and line them up a bit better and just-
But Kíli was less sanguine.
He twisted and glared down behind him for a moment. “This looked a lot easier on telly,” he muttered, and Fíli bit down hard on his bottom lip to hold in a laugh.
“You’ve been watching porn,” he said with a delighted grin that made Kíli turn the glare on him. It was impressive as always, even with the flush on his ears and his lips a little swollen.
“You were gone for two years,” Kíli snapped irritably, and the muscles in his stomach bunched and released as he lifted his hips and lowered them, only to torture Fíli a bit more as his cock slid between the wonderful globes of Kíli’s ass.
Fíli rubbed soothing hands along Kíli’s thighs, trying not to think of Kíli in his room back home, watching porn – probably with Men - and muffling his cries as he stroked himself off. “You do…” Fíli asked gently, “you do know it doesn’t work like porn?”
Kíli rolled his eyes. “Yes, Fíli, I am a grown person, I know it doesn’t work like porn, but I also know you and I have successfully slid tab A into slot B on several occasions now and I want to ride you!”
Fíli’s breath caught on a moan. “Oh,” he breathed, because the thought of Kíli moving on top of him, of Kíli driving himself and taking what he wanted and Fíli getting to watch-
Yes.
“Here, here, let me…” he released Kíli’s right thigh and slid his left hand down, wrapping it around himself with a little hiss. “Here, lift up.”
Kíli did, looking mildly suspicious in a way that made Fíli grin. It was still all just a little too slick, too-much lube and Kíli muttering to himself, but he did find it, did push down-
“Fíli!” a sharp little shout as Kíli threw his shoulders back, his hands tightening and pulling in the curls on Fíli’s chest as he lowered himself and Fíli was surrounded by perfect, tight heat.
Kíli was beautiful, his eyes wide and his lips parted, panting for air as he froze for one breath, two, three, and then a low moan in his chest.
“Are you all right?”
Kíli blinked down at him.
“Kíli?” Fíli asked again, fighting the urge to move his hips, to sink into that beautiful body and warmth and love. “Are you okay?”
Kíli breathed properly and shifted his hips. “Yes,” he said. And then louder, “Yes, I like it. It was fast just-” his thighs tightened against Fíli’s hips and he rose a little before sliding back down with a soft, pleased sigh. “Oh. I like it. You’re deep, like this.”
Fili’s eyes flickered over him, the twitch of muscles in his stomach, the sharp breaths in his chest. “It’s good?”
“Yeah.” Kíli shifted forward, rested his elbows on Fíli’s chest. “It’s good.” His cheeks were pink but his eyes were bright when he purred, “I love feeling you inside me,” in a voice Fíli’d never heard before.
Fíli’s hips jerked up and Kíli gave a surprised little yelp that made them both grin.
It took some practice, as always – Fíli pushing, Kíli pulling – before Kíli arched back and gave a low, deep moan that was one of the sexiest things Fíli had ever heard.
“Oh,” Kíli breathed. “Oh. That’s. Just right. I can feel every-oh.”
And he rolled his hips in a way that flexed from his shoulders to his thighs, every muscle moving under the skin, a piece of art brought to life.
Fíli stared up at him, his heart pounding in his ears, hard and wanting. “Move, baby,” he whispered, and there was a growl in his voice too, new and raw, “please.”
Kíli flashed a grin at him. “Oh, yes,” he said, “I plan to.”
He moved.
He moved, and he talked, a low purr of sound, his hands tugging at the hair on Fíli’s chest and stomach, kneading like a cat as he murmured, “Oh, yes, so deep, nnnn, Fíli, Fíli, it’s just-right there, yeah, yeah,” a pattering of satisfied moans as he ground down.
It was less friction than Fíli was used to but he didn’t care – everything was tight and close, the pillows, the fire, the heat, Kíli’s body, Kíli’s voice, and he came suddenly, with sharp thrusts of his hips that made Kíli laugh and grab for Fíli’s belly as he rode them.
“Yes!” he crowed, letting go, wrapping a hand around himself and jerking fast. A litany of yes yes yes as he climaxed, hot seed splashing Fíli’s skin, tangling in both their treasure trails as Kíli writhed and stroked himself to an unabashedly messy climax.
A handy, well-worn pillow case served for clean-up, as they came back to themselves tangled in Kíli’s nest of blanket and pillows, the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. Kíli stretched happily on top of Fíli, tucked his head under Fíli’s chin, a hot, heavy, perfect weight.
“So,” Fíli said, stroking his brother’s slightly damp back (a bit smug, even if Kíli did most of the work, that they’d worked up something of a sweat), “does this count as an earthquake test for our new addition?”
Kíli’s laugh came out as a hiccup, which was just as warm and perfect and their ridiculous blanket and pillow nest.