Work Text:
“I’m trying to flirt with you, okay?!”
Bilbo stopped in mid-rant, hands freezing in the air with his fingers still half-curled in barely contained Hobbity irritation. “You-what?”
Bofur huffed and scrunched his poor hat even tighter in his hands. “Flirting! I’m trying to flirt with you!”
Bilbo looked around his kitchen. “With flour?!” he demanded, pointing at what had once been a bag of flour before his erstwhile houseguest had dropped it, coating Bofur, Bilbo, and the kitchen with a thin layer of white dust.
“Flours.”
“What?!" Bilbo could feel his nose twitching. He tried to control it. Bofur was his friend, he hadn’t meant to create a giant mess. He didn't mean to constantly make a collection of giant messes, and he always (tried) to help clean up.
"Flours." Bilbo tilted his head to the counter, where an intact bag remained. "Two flours.”
Bilbo blinked at him, nonplussed. His hands slowly lowered. “Flours.”
“Aye. I asked your neighbor what to do, since you’ve not noticed anything else I’ve tried. And she said I should get you some flours." He scratched the base of one pigtail with a faintly confused and floury expression. "I’ve not seen you bake much, but I thought…well. Maybe it’s a hobbit thing.”
“Flours,” Bilbo said, but now there was something bubbling up in his chest. “Flours!”
Bofur was looking hurt now. Even his poor white-dusted mustache was drooping. “There’s no reason to poke fun. I can see you’re not interested and I’ll clean it up. And I can get a room at the inn-“
"Oh, Bofur,” and now all the irritation was gone, replaced by a bone-deep fondness, “she meant flowers. F-L-O-W-E-R-S. Flowers. The kind that smell nice and grow in the yard. Not flour.”
Bofur blinked at him. And then, much to Bilbo’s astonishment, he blushed. Bright red on his adorably round ears. “Oh,” he said, and then, “Well. Balls.”
"But you know, I think I like this kind of flours." Bilbo stepped forward, sending up a little cloud, and took Bofur’s big, rough hands in his own. He wondered if he looked as silly and happy as he felt, with his hair all full of dust and awkward declarations.
Bofur slowly smiled back, fingers tightening. “Oh. Aye?”
"Aye,” Bilbo agreed, and positively beamed.