Homecoming (Part 4/4)
Summary: After avoiding Mr. Bofur for several weeks, fate deals you a physical blow. Will this be enough to shatter the walls around your cold heart?
Pairing: Bofur x Reader CW: No smut this time, just lust and kissing. Motor vehicle accident, injury, angst. 8750 words
Part of the big old Durin’s Garage AU! Garage AU Masterlist
You had avoided Bofur for three weeks.
No small feat, considering how small the town was, and the shared social contact points in your family members. You’d refused invitations to his pub. You had ignored his knocking the one and only time he had tried to come see you after you’d kicked him out. Thankfully, he hadn’t come into the shop at all.
He got the message.
But avoiding the man and putting him from your mind were two very different projects.
Your apartment held evidence of your - what? Friendship? - on every now-painted wall; in the large piece of art hanging in your living room that he’d gotten off of Nori; in the apple-scented candles that you’d bought.
One morning you went to pull milk out of the fridge for your cereal and caught yourself staring at the beer you’d bought for him. You had drunk the others a few nights earlier, a deranged act of self-harm that had only left you crying in your bed alone. Only one remained, and in a fit of sudden frustration with yourself, you grabbed it instead of the milk and poured it down the sink.
It’s just beer. He’s just a man. He’s probably over you by now. It’s been three weeks. Exactly twenty-two days, but who was keeping track?
You sat down with your cereal at your dining table and found yourself once again replaying his exit.
‘Aye, and because I love you.’ His words echoed again as you ate mechanically.
You weren’t completely ignorant. Despite what you wished were true, you knew inside that you returned his feelings. Or… the feelings that he’d claimed to have, back then, that he probably didn’t anymore. You loved his ridiculous hair and self-assured attitude, his quick smile, his passion for music. How thoughtful he was, able to read your thoughts even when you couldn’t voice them. You missed his light-hearted whistling and the deep conversations you’d have alone in the night. You missed him; because you loved him.
But the last man who you’d felt that way for had said he’d loved you too, and when it came down to it, he’d done nothing to stop his wife from getting you fired, socially exiled, and run out of town. While you didn’t think Bofur was that sort of person, in the heat of the moment, your defense mechanisms had shot you into a state of panic and rejection that - objectively - was probably disproportionate, and definitely made you want to crawl into a hole and hide.
You could only imagine what he must have thought of you now, how far beneath him he must see that you truly were. You wondered what sort of things he’d have to say the next time your paths crossed.
Maybe I should move again.
Your phone buzzed and you looked down to see a message from Kili.
---
Bofur’s family and friends were worried about him.
Nobody had actually come right out to ask what was going on, of course. They weren’t those sorts of people, mostly, and those that were had a pretty good idea that it might be related to the Durin girl that had clearly caught his eye.
The two of you had both been acting like it was nothing, but ever since the night you’d left with that yuppie, you hadn’t been back to the pub, and Bofur hadn’t been the same. It had taken a couple days for them to notice that despite the easy smile plastered on his face almost permanently, Bofur had stopped whistling and humming to himself.
The silence was making Bombur overeat and Bifur pick at his nails, but they just fretted away from Bofur and hoped he would recover on his own.
---
Bofur stood behind the pub on his lunch break, watching the snow drift over the parking lot. He questioned staying open, wondering if they’d get many people out in the weather if it kept up.
He puffed his pipe and closed his eyes as his thoughts drifted once more to you. His relationships never lasted too long, and usually didn’t have official titles like girlfriend anyway, but he felt more grief over your affair than he ever had before. He still believed what he had the day you’d met; that you were his soulmate. The problem was convincing you of this. He wondered if you still thought of him… or if you’d ever thought of him when you two weren’t in the same room.
Well, no, surely you must have. You had this way of pretending to not realize that he liked something, and just happening to have it on hand, but not actually wanting any for yourself. Why you couldn’t just come out and say ‘I got this for you’ was one of the things he had been trying to sort out about you before you’d kicked him out for voicing his feelings.
He could still picture the look of panic in your eyes when he’d told you that he loved you. He had given you a few days to think and cool off, but when he’d come back to talk, you had pretended not to be home. It ate at him to think that he wanted nothing more than to see you, and you were able to simply avoid him like it was nothing. Like he was nothing.
It wasn’t as though you didn’t know where to find him. And it wasn’t as though he didn’t know where to find you. But your words gave him pause. He had no desire to force himself upon you. What he really wanted was simply to be desired by you. Not just for help with a task, or a tryst; to be seen as someone worthy of your affection. To be treated as such, and to not be a (perhaps poorly kept) secret.
He put his pipe to his lips again, letting the smoke blow through his nose as he exhaled. Maybe what he wanted was simply too much to ask of you. Maybe whatever had happened with your last relationship had truly hurt you too much for you to be able to let him in. Could he blame you for that?
He sighed and looked out over the snowy parking lot. He knew he needed to stop obsessing over you, but he hadn’t sorted out how just yet.
---
You were driving down the highway in your fancy sedan, trying not to laugh.
Kili was in the front passenger seat, Fili behind him in the backseat, and they were doing all the parts to Bohemian Rhapsody as it played from the speakers. “MAGNIFICO!” you joined in, watching your speedometer carefully.
You were on your way to a nearby city to pick up some specialty car detailing equipment that they’d gotten a deal on. Kili had wanted to drive, but Thorin was nervous about their vehicles on the highway in the freezing weather. Your sedan had new winter tires, and while Fili had originally requested to borrow your car, to your cousins’ surprise, you’d offered to drive them instead; ostensibly because you didn’t want anyone else driving it, but secretly because an excuse to be out of town sounded too good to pass up.
So far, the excursion had been exactly what you needed. You felt more like a human than you had in weeks, talking about nothing and everything, and now joining in on a lighthearted bit of singing. The weather was clear and bright, but biting cold, the sun glittering off the snow-covered fields such that you had put on your sunglasses.
You glanced over at Fili and Kili briefly, still singing along. “Just gotta get right outta here!” When you looked back at the road you saw a car in the oncoming lane up ahead start to slide on black ice. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you realized it was moving into your path. In the fraction of a second you had to react, you tried to get the car as far right as possible to protect your cousins on the passenger side, the world moving in blinding speed again.
The crunch of metal on metal deafened you as the stereo stopped playing your song.
---
Bofur shuffled quickly down the poorly-shoveled sidewalks, hands full of a bag of supplies that Bombur had insisted he go pick up, as the kitchen had run short and their next delivery was two days away. He’d decided to walk, since it wasn’t far, and the roads were not well plowed on all streets.
He intentionally turned up one street early so he could pass by Durin General, disappointed to see the lights were off inside. When he paused by the entrance, he let out a small huff to see your handwritten note taped in the window.
Sorry to have missed you! Closed for family business. ♥ We will reopen tomorrow morning. Thank you!
He wondered what family business you were tending to, a sad smile playing on his face as he envisioned you writing out the cheery note. It seemed you were doing well. He felt simultaneously pleased and hurt to think so.
He took a deep breath and continued his cold walk back to the pub.
---
You blinked, disoriented, your head swimming with pain. The sounds around you felt far away as you tried to focus your vision. The winter air was chilling your skin, the only thing grounding you in your confusion.
You were in your car. But it was broken, bent around you in a way it wasn’t meant to be. You tried to push yourself up out of your seat, but cried out when hot daggers of agony shot through your body from your left arm. You could feel the wetness from the tears that ran over your cheeks, blurring your vision, and you cast your shades aside to wipe at your eyes with your right hand.
The airbags had deployed, and the windshield was shattered. You turned to your right, breath erratic, and panicked when you didn’t see Kili or Fili in the car with you. The doors were open, and you saw an ambulance parked on the side of the road. Oh god.
There was a man talking to you, shouting. You looked through the broken window on your left to see him shining a flashlight in your face. “Ma’am, are you okay?” “No,” you answered honestly. You felt like the world had given out beneath you. “We’re gonna get you out of there, okay? Just remain calm.” Your voice shook with panic. “W-where are my cousins?” “The men who were in the vehicle with you are alright. They’re being looked over by the paramedics right now.” “They’re okay?” The man’s voice was steady and reassuring. “Yes ma’am, so we’re gonna focus on you right now, okay?” You choked down a relieved sob. “Okay.”
The stranger did his best to keep you calm as they assessed whether or not you had sustained head or neck injuries. Once you were cleared, they dismantled part of the car and removed you, taking you into the back of another ambulance to get looked over. You mostly had minor scrapes, save whatever was wrong with your arm. You looked down to it, and saw only red soaking through your sleeve.
A moment later you heard shouting outside the ambulance. “Is she okay?!” Kili was trying to come over to see you, but the medic was urging him to calm down and let their coworker check you out.
“I’m okay, Kili!” you called out, then hissed in pain as the medic touched your arm. “We’re her kin,” you heard Fili say, and before anyone could stop him, he was up inside the back of the ambulance, looking you over with a tense expression.
The exceptionally calm man who was tending your wounds didn’t even turn to look at Fili. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step outside while I conclude my examination.” You met Fili’s gaze, and you seemed to be asking each other the same silent question. You nodded at him despite the pain screaming from your arm. “I’m okay, Fi.”
His nostrils flared, but he nodded and hopped out to reassure Kili that it seemed like everything would be alright. Then he pulled out his cellphone to start making the calls that needed to be made.
---
Late that afternoon, Bofur brought a to-go bag out from the kitchen and placed it on the bar while Nori pulled out his wallet. “After this I’m goin’ home and not leaving ‘til tomorrow. I’m freezing my nuts off running errands for Dori.” Bofur raised his brows. “Oh aye? He was just in here earlier.” “So I heard, but once the old coot got home, he gave me a list of chores like I’m his bloody wife.” Bofur chuckled. “Aye well it’s likely best yer off the road. Hear it’s gonna snow again.”
“Ah, not to worry, I’m a fine driver. Unlike that Durin girl.” Bofur’s brow knit. “What d’ye mean?” Nori gestured over his shoulder nonchalantly. “Just spotted her fancy little car being towed into the garage, whole driver side smashed in.” He shook his head as he put his debit card back in his wallet. “Thanks!” He grabbed the bag and the receipt and left, Bofur calling out a weak goodbye after him.
Bofur gripped the edge of the bar, trying to remain calm and rational. Surely you were fine. You had to be. As his pulse thumped in his ears, he refused to accept a reality where you weren’t. He picked up the receiver and dialed a number from memory.
---
Ori picked up the office phone, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Durin’s Garage and- oh, hello Bofur- I- What?” He blinked as the man on the other end of the line tripped over his words. “Oh, yes, her car did get towed here not long ago. Mm. Yes, it’s quite a sight. Mm? No, no. They’re all fine. No, Fili and Kili were with- Yes, I spoke with Fili an hour or so ago- Oh, just a broken arm and some- Well, I haven’t seen it-” Ori’s mouth fell open and then slowly shut, listening to Bofur ramble on about how they should have been more careful when driving.
He looked over to see the three in question coming toward the door. “Ah- I have to go. They’re here. Excuse me.” Ori hung up on Bofur, not wanting to have to explain that he’d been talking about you.
You walked in the door with Kili and Fili in tow. Fili had driven you all back in a rental car, both because of your arm and the painkillers you were on. He’d also been the one to argue with your insurance company to let your car be towed to their garage (citing it as your local mechanic, and more convenient for pickup later), rather than the nearest approved mechanic in the city you’d been headed to.
“Is it a complete write-off?” You asked morosely to Ori. Ori opened and then closed his mouth, unsure what to say. He noted the bandages and splint on your left arm. “We haven’t even looked at it yet,” Fili interrupted, stepping past you to go into the shop - carrying the tools and supplies you’d managed to pick up - to see the damage in a controlled environment. Thorin was in there working on another job, but he’d already had a good look himself.
“I’m sure we can fix anything,” Kili offered, leaning against the counter to face you. You rubbed the back of your neck. “But if it’s a lot, it’s probably easier to just buy a new one-” Kili laughed. “Why don’t you let the mechanics decide that?” “But I’m saying it would save you the trouble-” “It’s our job to fix things.”
Kili was right, of course, and no doubt your insurance would cover the costs, but it still felt wrong somehow to ask your cousins to fix your vehicle when they were in it when you crashed.
You let out a sigh, the weight of the day settling into you as your pain medication started to wear off. “Are you okay?” The softness in Ori’s voice made you purse your lips. “You look unwell.” “Yeah, I- It’s just been a lot, today…” You held your good hand to your head. “You should rest.” Kili nodded in agreement and patted the back of one of the chairs in the waiting room area. “Sit down for a bit. I’ll go see what the scoop is on your car!” “I’ll make you some tea,” Ori offered.
---
The next morning you were standing behind the counter of Durin General. Your arm didn’t hurt as much, the swelling already easing, but the splint was driving you bonkers. You hadn’t slept especially well, and you were nursing a coffee when you heard the door open.
Fili and Kili stepped in, each carrying a fruit box full of groceries and tupperware containers. “Food delivery!” Kili sang out cheerily. “What?” You furrowed your brow at them.
Fili grinned. “Mom wanted to make sure you had healthy stuff to eat. Everything is precut or ready to reheat.” You groaned internally. Aunt Dis… This was too much.
“You really didn’t have to do that.” “But we did, so too bad.” Kili laughed. Fili put his box on the counter. “Pass us your keys, we’ll take it upstairs.” “I can bring it up.” “No you can’t.” He snickered. “You can’t carry these boxes with one arm.” “You shouldn’t have brought me so much, I’m only one person.” “Keys.” Fili put his hand out expectantly, brow raised.
You sighed heavily. “Fine.” He took them from you and grabbed the box again, and Kili flashed you a wide grin before following his older brother out the back door of the shop to head upstairs.
You pinched your nose and tried to think if there was anything embarrassing lying around. Just the things that reminded you of Bofur, you supposed. Nothing they’d make sense of. For all they knew, you just really liked the smell of apples. You chewed your lip, both touched and ashamed that your family was going out of their way for you. You were sure you didn’t deserve it.
---
Fili unlocked the apartment door and took a tentative look around as Kili stepped in behind him. The dining table had a vase with fresh flowers in it (your lame attempt at cheering yourself up), and the accent walls and artwork were all more colorful and vibrant than he’d expected given your dry, standoff-ish behaviour.
He was reminded of the moments when you would let down your guard; laughter that you couldn’t hold in; joining in with them to sing in the car; the smiles you let slip when you thought nobody could see. Your apartment seemed to be proof that the warm, vibrant person he remembered from his childhood was still somewhere inside your cynical city-girl exterior.
He stepped into the kitchen after Kili and let his brother start moving the items into your fridge as he wandered further into your living space. He was surprised to find old family photos on your hallway walls.
He noted that none of them included your parents, but there were a few old ones of you and your cousins as kids - candid shots, like eating ice cream in the backyard, and a sleepover in the living room that he barely remembered. Then there was a shot of Thorin working on a beautiful vintage car. One of you and Ori writing at a table, Dori in the background with a pot in his hand. Dis holding Kili over her head.
The pictures were all from before you had moved out of town, and he was surprised you would still have anything like this, nevermind hang them up. You had dug them out of one of the mysterious abandoned totes in the back of the shop storage area. It seemed your father had deemed them not worth bringing along.
He continued on and opened the door to your old childhood bedroom. This appeared to be your personal storage and home gym, a mostly-empty space with a few things lined up against the back wall, including freehand weights and a yoga mat. He crossed the hall to the master bedroom and stuck only his head inside.
Your bedroom furniture was all fairly standard, and your usually-perfectly made bed was a little sloppy thanks to the loss of your left hand’s assistance that morning. You had covered the mysterious khuzdal wall with a vinyl mural of the forest, not quite willing to paint over it, but also not wanting to look at the strange message every night. Fili wondered if you had a thing for trees, but soon returned to Kili’s side, helping him with the last of the groceries.
Kili was trying to make the frozen foods fit in the small freezer. “I think she’s right, mom might have gone a little overboard.” “It’s probably best that way. She’s too stubborn to ask for help, so we have to force it on her.” Kili laughed. “I can’t believe she was going to try to carry this all up on her own with only one arm.”
Fili snorted. He could see where you might be coming from; used to handling things on your own. He liked to do the same sometimes, as a matter of pride. But there was nothing wrong with leaning on your family. “Maybe she’s not used to being taken care of.”
---
After lunch, the door chime rang out and you looked up, feeling a tight knot in your stomach as your mouth dried out.
Bofur met your deer-in-headlights gaze with a stoic one as he approached the counter.
While you had been dreading this inevitable interaction, you couldn’t deny the slight comfort you felt to be in his presence again, your arm temporarily forgotten. You’d wondered about him, of course, and seeing him safe before you put some part of you at ease.
He was even more ridiculous than you remembered. His braided twin tails were now topped by an outrageous hat unlike anything you’d ever seen in real life, and his jacket was so bulky and tattered that you wondered if he’d fished it out of a thrift store dumpster. You were already mentally considering ordering him a new one online before your brain kicked in to remind you that you’d forced him out of your house precisely twenty-three days earlier after a love confession. The dread returned.
Bofur felt like his heart might actually burst through his chest. It took all his pride and sense of decorum not to rush to your side and pull you into his arms in relief to see you in one piece. Well, mostly. You had a splint on your arm, and you were looking at him like he might hurt you, both of which kept the pit of worry in his gut fed enough to stay.
“Heard ya had an accident.” He gestured at your broken arm. “I lived,” you managed dryly. You were still processing the conflicting emotions at seeing him again, in person, instead of in memory.
He let out a small laugh, then nodded. He was back to his usual smiling self. “Thank the stars for that, or my seein’ ya would be quite a fright.” It took your overwhelmed brain too long to get the joke about you being a ghost and you just looked away awkwardly, unsure what to say. You felt a weight on your chest.
“I’m glad yer alright,” he offered softly after a moment. You looked over at him again. “Why are you here?” “Thought you could use some help.” “With what?” He pointed at your broken arm. “All manner o’ things, seeing as ye can’t use that arm o’ yours.” “I’m fine.” “Oh aye, I can tell. That cheery smile on your face really sells it.”
You were caught off-guard by his sarcasm, and scoffed in mild offense. “I don’t need your help.” “I think what ya mean is that ye don’t want my help, which is rather a shame seein’ as I’m here to help regardless. Because it’s clear as day that you do need the help. I happen to know you’ve got a shipment arriving in a half hour, and you won’t be able to move the boxes one-armed, lass.”
You rolled your eyes. Of course in a town like this he would know when your business got its shipments in, despite literally never having been present for one.
“I’ll figure it out.” He shrugged.
“I’m right here, may as well let me help ya.” “No. It’s weird that you’re here.” “Not really.” “Get out of my store!” “No.” Bofur leaned against the counter, looking quite relaxed, his arms crossed. “I came to help you and I mean to. Now, you can accept that, or you can call the coppers.” “You think I won’t?” You pulled your cellphone from your pocket. “That’s up to you, lass.” He shrugged and at you over his shoulder.
He was clearly insane. He was willing to have you call the police to get him to leave your shop? You contemplated it. What would you say? That your old fuck buddy was trying to help you since you broke your arm, and you were - what, too much of a bitch to let him? It wasn’t like you thought he was a threat or anything. At least not physically.
A threat to your ego, your heart… well, you weren’t going to go there.
You let out a heavy sigh and rolled your eyes as you slipped your phone back into your pocket. You could probably use the help. “Fine. But I’m not paying you.” “I wouldn’t take yer money if you offered it.” “Why are you doing this?” “I’m yer loyal knight, if you’ve forgotten.”
You snorted. You thought it was pretty stupid for him to remain ‘loyal’ to you, all things considered, though you also couldn’t quite bring yourself to call him ‘stupid’ to his face. His matter-of-fact tone and the way he was unfazed by your attempts to make him leave only tempted your heart to believe that maybe he did actually care about you, like he’d said before. To believe that maybe it was alright to rely on him, just a little.
Maybe just for today, you told yourself.
You shivered, and wondered if you should turn the heat up. “Yer underdressed,” Bofur remarked softly. You were wearing two tank tops layered over each other. “I couldn’t get any sleeves over this.” You explained, gesturing with annoyance at your splint. You had tried, but your wardrobe wasn’t exactly compatible.
He huffed, and you looked over to see him taking off his jacket to reveal a thick, green wool cardigan. He took that off next, and stepped over to drape it around your shoulders. “This is too big on ya, so it should do.” It was so warm in contrast to your skin that you let out a small noise, which made him snort. “No, you don’t need to-” “Hush now.” Bofur’s voice was so stern that it caught you off-guard. You looked down sheepishly and slipped your good arm through the right sleeve. It was like wearing a blanket, and you were grateful for it despite your awkwardness. He carefully closed the three large buttons on the front, your splinted arm loose underneath.
“Right. That should warm ya.” His fingers lingered on the woolen lapel, and when you glanced up to meet his gaze, you thought your heart might stop. His warm brown eyes stared back at you, guarded in a way that they never had been before, and you couldn’t look away. Being under his hands again - however barely - felt right. There were so many things you wanted to say, and to hear from him in return.
But he simply let go and stepped away, settling several feet from you behind the counter to put his jacket back on over his t-shirt. You felt the heat returning to your arms and chest, and you thought you might cry when you realized you were once again wrapped in his musky scent. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, then looked out the window to avoid eye contact. It was all bittersweet torture.
--
Despite the awkwardness you felt around him, Bofur was actually a big help at the shop, both with the shipment and especially as your regulars came in to check on you. When you got overwhelmed by the attention and well wishes, he would step in and chat them up while you excused yourself to ‘tend to something in the back’. He didn’t ask you about the accident, or bring up anything about your (previous) relationship, but your chest went tight every time you looked at him, and you felt the distance between you like a sea of your own unspoken wrong-doings.
When closing time rolled around, you carried out your usual shutdown process, silently eyeing Bofur. He made no obvious move to leave, and so finally you locked the cash register and started unbuttoning the cardigan he’d lent you.
“Time to call it a day,” you offered, sounding tired.
Bofur stepped closer and put his hand over yours, stopping you. “Keep it. Yer gonna freeze in wee strappy tops in this winter weather.” “I’ll turn the heat up.” “Don’t be a dope.” He refastened the button you’d undone. “Bofur-” His voice was humorless. “I won’t hear anymore protest, lass. Yer keepin’ it.” You swallowed. “Fine.” You shifted uncomfortably, his proximity both wanted and awkward. You knew the polite thing to do would be to thank him, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to do so.
“What are ye doin’ for meals?” You pinched your nose and sighed. “My aunt sent over a ton of pre-portioned food, so I just have to heat it up. I’ll be fine. Seriously.” It wasn’t as though you’d completely lost the ability to be an adult, you just had a temporary injury in one arm.
He let out a soft hum, nodding to himself. If Dis had sent things over, you probably were fine and didn’t need the help, instead of just refusing it. “Grand, then. You be sure to eat it so yer able to heal.” You rolled your eyes, irritated that he was telling you what to do again. “Okay, dad.” “Don’t be a brat.”
You gaped. “I’m the brat?” “Aye, you’ve long been one.” Your annoyance bubbled over, making you ramble at him. “You barged into my private business, refused to leave-”
“Because yer too stubborn to admit-”
“-and now you’re telling me what to do like I’m some idiot who doesn’t know to have dinner-” “I’m just tryin’ to help you, ya wee-” “Why?!”
Your shout echoed off the back walls of the store. All of your frustrations had been captured in a single, self-loathing syllable.
Bofur took a long, slow breath. He hadn’t expected you to raise your voice at him, nevermind yell with such ferocity. He licked his lips and met your gaze, looking as tired as you felt.
His large, rough hand gently cupped your jawline. “You know why, dote.”
You could feel your pulse in your neck, staring back at him with wide eyes. Was he really saying he still loved you?
You wanted to ask, but it was like your whole body had turned to stone. He shouldn’t love you after how you’d reacted before. After how you’d avoided him for weeks, and argued with him for daring to help you today.
“You do know, don’t ya lass?”
He waited for some kind of response, but you just stood there silently, looking at him with a surprise that he didn’t feel was warranted. He supposed he might never get the response he wanted from you. He knew it didn’t matter either way; he felt how he felt.
You watched his deep, dark eyes move down to your lips, and then back up to meet your stare. The air felt thick with uncertainty. You swallowed, wishing he’d come closer, crossing the final distance between you; or else wishing you could make yourself do it. The fear that froze you was just slightly stronger than the heat of need growing inside.
Finally, he let go of you and sighed. He turned, walking away as he zipped up his jacket. “I’ll be here first thing. Get yer rest.” You watched as he slipped out the front door, not looking back.
---
After locking up, you returned to your apartment in a sort of daze, replaying Bofur’s exit, and wondering what he might have done if you’d answered him. Would he be there with you now? Was that what you wanted? On some level, you knew it was.
You were staring at the contents of your - quite overstocked - fridge and freezer when you heard two sets of out-of-sync knocks on your door at the same time. Through the thick wood you heard a laugh that you’d recognize anywhere.
You opened the door to see Fili and Kili - again. “Hey.” “Hey!” Fili grinned and pushed past you with a large paper bag in hand, which he deposited on your dining room table. Kili stepped in just after, placing a two-liter of soda there before following Fili into your kitchen. “Um-” “We brought dinner. Chinese from the place at the south end of town!” Fili explained, pulling open your cupboards at random until he found plates.
You stepped into the kitchen, feeling your shoulders tensing, and the dull ache in your arm starting to return. “You didn’t need to do this. Or the groceries for that matt-” Kili shrugged. “We did this because we wanted to.” “Why? I almost got you killed on the road-”
Kili’s eyes grew wide with distress. “What? The accident wasn’t your fault!” Fili nodded. “If anything, you turning the car like that stopped us from being hurt.” You shook your head. “We just got lucky.” “Either way. You’re injured. Let us help you, cuz.” “But why, though?”
You watched as both Kili and Fili knit their brows. Fili tilted his head. “Because you’re one of ours?” “I’m not, really.” Kili looked positively distressed. “Of course you are. You’re a Durin!”
You shrank into yourself. “But I’m… not like you. I don’t fix things, or take care of people, I just- make messes.”
“That’s garbage.” Fili pressed the stack of plates he’d grabbed onto the counter.
You were surprised by the frustration in his tone. “I’m just saying-”
“You think we don’t all know what you do in the store? You think you’re so slick that we believe this I-don’t-care attitude?” To be honest, you’d sort of hoped everyone did. It was the only thing you had to protect yourself.
He put his hands on his hips, his voice the stern, disappointed scolding of an older sibling. “I don’t know what happened in the city, but you need to get over it. You’re here now. You’re a Durin, and you’re home. So act like it.”
You felt the sting of tears as they slightly blurred your vision, but you frowned, staring at his feet. Your voice was small. “I don’t know how.” Fili sighed. “Stop pretending like you don’t belong. Just accept that you’re stuck with us and let us in already.”
You pursed your lips, not arguing with the admonishment. He was only speaking on behalf of your family, of course, but you couldn’t help but think of another person you needed to let in. Wanted to let in.
After a few seconds of silence, you finally gave a slight nod, not raising your gaze to meet his.
Kili stepped between the two of you and opened cupboards to start retrieving the glasses and cutlery you needed for dinner, back to his usual cheery self.
“You have tongs?”
“Uh, yeah, they’re-” You turned and pulled open the right drawer with your working hand. “Here.”
You walked over to the table as you watched your cousins set it, feeling the shard of ice in your chest starting to thaw as you saw how at-home they were in your space. They seemed to refuse to be as awkward and distant around you as you were with them. Maybe it would be okay to think of this place as home. To let yourself belong… somewhere, to someone. Some people.
As Fili started opening the containers, Kili launched into a full account of (what he thought was) a hilarious interaction with a customer that afternoon. You eased into your seat and let yourself laugh at his punchline, earning you a head rub from Fili.
The meal was pleasant, and you found yourself opening up more, answering their questions about your day and your arm without lying or deflecting, or pretending not to care. You casually mentioned that Bofur had been by to help with the shipment and that you’d appreciated his help.
While you chatted, Fili’s calm and steady warmth balanced out Kili’s boisterous enthusiasm, and at the end of the night, you found yourself somewhat reluctant to say goodbye.
“Thanks for coming over,” you offered earnestly as they stood on the back porch. “Of course,” Fili smiled crookedly. “We take care of each other.” Kili’s eyes were bright as he grinned back at you. He felt like you were finally comfortable around them again. “Don’t be a stranger.” “Okay.”
You watched them walk down the back steps to Fili’s vehicle.
Your hand hesitated over the switch for the porch light. You’d had it on every night for Bofur’s visits, but had been keeping it off since your - well, breakup might not have been the right word. You chewed your lower lip. It was probably pointless to leave it on. Unless he actually drove past the back of the property, he probably wouldn’t know it was on, and even then, given your hostile behaviour, he’d have no reason to think it was meant for him.
Still, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to turn it off, so that night you laid in bed half-listening for a knock that never came.
Alone in the dark, you thought back on Fili’s words. You were a Durin, and you were home. If that were true, then what was to stop you from allowing yourself to be someone who belonged? Who was welcome; was wanted?
Even loved?
When you imagined the hostile life you’d left behind in the city, you realized that you hadn’t found any of that vitriol and pomp in the people around you now. Your family and those they ran with had been kind and accepting despite your walls and judgment. Their hands reached out in welcome, not attack. Two hands in particular, warm and calloused. Two hands you missed like the heat that had greeted you the day you’d arrived in town.
---
In the morning, you wore another tank top, and left your hair down since you couldn’t figure out how to do much else with it one-handed. When you pulled Bofur’s wool cardigan on, you took a deep breath to inhale the lingering notes of apple, smoke, and musk.
You packed some of the containers of the food that your cousins had dropped off into a grocery bag to take downstairs to the shop break-room; enough for two to have breakfast and lunch, and then some. You made a mental note to thank your aunt later.
When Bofur arrived, right at opening, he couldn’t help but smile to see his clothing on you once again. You looked a little more relaxed today, and that made him happy, too.
“Good morning,” you offered politely as he settled into a spot he’d claimed for himself behind the counter. “Good morning, dote. Did ya sleep well?” You made a vague humming noise. You hadn’t actually slept all that well. “You?” “Not especially, no.”
You couldn’t help the soft laugh that fell from your mouth at how cheerily he’d said so. He grinned, rolling his eyes. “Oh, it’s a gas, is it?” You tried to contain your smile. “No, no. I’m sorry to hear you didn’t sleep well.” You cleared your throat. “I’ll be right back.”
He nodded as you stepped into the back room. You prepared two coffees - one black and one with cream - then carefully picked them both up by the handle in the same hand.
You came back out to the front, walking a little slower than usual, and set them down on the counter he was leaning against. “You still take your coffee black?”
Bofur blinked in surprise. “Aye.” He took the black coffee as you picked yours back up. He shook his head at you having carried them both out in one hand. “You didn’t have to get me a coffee, lass. I could have-” “I wanted to.”
He cocked his head, touched by your straight-forward desire to do something for him. “Thanks, then.” He sipped the coffee and was pleasantly surprised by the quality. Then it occurred to him that you were absolutely the sort of person to buy fancy, expensive coffee, and that it was probably some brand he’d never heard of.
Your voice was soft as you stared down at your mug. “Thanks for coming again.” He knit his brow slightly. “Yer welcome.” “You didn’t have to. You shouldn’t have, actually; I’ve been so awful.” “I’m sure you’ve been as kind as you’ve been able to be.”
You chewed your lip, still looking down into your coffee. “I used to be better than this.” Your eyes stung with the threat of traitorous tears. Harsh criticisms that had been lobbed at you in the city flooded your thoughts, and shame filled your voice. “Now all I’m good at is going places I shouldn’t be and being given things I don’t deserve.”
He shook his head. “You deserve all good things, lass.”
It made your chest ache to think he believed that. That he thought so highly of you, even after you’d been unreasonably hostile to him.
“But I ruin everything.” “What’s ruined?” You looked up to see him tilting his head at you in confusion. You puffed out your cheeks and then let out the breath. What isn’t ruined? “Let’s see, my reputation? My car? My arm?” You gestured with your mug at your arm, and then to him. “This?”
He took a step toward you, frowning. “Yer car’s being fixed by the finest mechanics around. Yer arm’s on the mend. I’ve no earthly idea what reputation ye think ye have, and as far as this goes-” He shrugged. “I haven’t run yet, lass.”
He was right. Here he was, despite your protests, and avoidance, and ungrateful attitude. Who would put up with all of that? What sane person would put up with you? Despite feeling unworthy of it, you wanted him to; desperately. You wanted to believe you could rely on others and be cared for, because wasn’t that what ‘home’ was?
“Bofur…” You put your coffee down and turned to look up at him with wet, vulnerable eyes. “Will you stay?”
He knit his brow, concerned by the fear in your features, wanting to comfort you. He wasn’t sure if you meant to help with the shop or something more, but it didn’t matter.
“I’ll stay as long as ye’ll have me,” he answered honestly, his hand moving to gently take yours. You felt the tears well over and roll down your cheek and you looked away, embarrassed, chewing your bottom lip.
He pulled you into a loose hug, careful not to touch your injured arm. “There’s no need for tears, dote. All’s well.” You pressed your forehead into his chest and took several deep breaths, feeling foolish and yet comforted, safe. “There there.”
You wiped your face dry. “Bofur, I-…” The words caught in your throat and you swallowed. He could read your thoughts as you stared up at him, face still full of turmoil. He reached a hand out to caress your cheek. “Aye. I know.”
You tipped up, and he met you to share a slow, sweet kiss. Wrapped in his warmth and his comforting scent, his mouth pressed to yours, you felt a sense of peace and belonging in your chest. As you sighed against his lips, you realized at once; Bofur felt like home. Not the home you’d grown up in, or the home you’d made for yourself in the city; but exactly where you were meant to be right now.
You heard the door clang shut and then a whooping sound coming from that side of the shop. Your face burned red when you turned to see Kili grinning like an idiot and hollering cheers at you and Bofur while Fili just stood smugly behind him.
“Doesn’t look like we’re needed to help today, Ki,” Fili said, pulling his brother back out the door with a laugh.
You ran your good hand over your face. “I don’t suppose they’ll keep that to themselves.”
“Oh, the whole town’ll know fer sure,” he agreed lightly. “‘Course I think they had an inkling before, mind you.” You sighed, then rolled your eyes. As long as Bofur wasn’t bothered by it, you supposed you could accept it, too.
You looked over to see him take a sip of his coffee, his smile warmer than ever. He leaned back against the counter and started whistling a familiar tune.
You felt a surge of happiness at the sound, and stepped over to him with your own drink. He wrapped his arm behind your hips carefully, pulling you close, and - safe in his hold - you hummed along while you waited for the next customer together.
---
Between customers, you and Bofur caught up slowly on what you’d been up to since that fateful morning a few weeks prior. It seemed you’d both had fairly uneventful times, aside from your accident.
Curious as he was, Bofur fought the urge to ask if you’d taken any other lovers in the meantime, knowing it was none of his business. At worst, he felt he was back to whatever you’d had before; undefined but something. He hoped, at best, that maybe it could be more. That he mattered to you in the ways that you mattered to him.
After the usual rush of folks popping by on their lunch breaks, you suggested to Bofur that the two of you take one. He followed you into the back, and before you could get the small fridge open to pull out some of the food that had been gifted to you, you felt his hand on your shoulder.
“Hm?” You turned to face him with confusion. “Just-” He leaned in slowly, closing his eyes as his lips met yours once more. Eyes still closed, you felt your brow raise in surprise even as you melted under his touch. He slowly backed you against the counter, one hand on your waist as the other cradled your neck.
He’d so missed this; the taste and the feel of you. Your little sighs that escaped as his tongue met yours. The way you trusted his touch, letting him do as he pleased, submitting to his desire.
As heat flushed your body, you felt relief. You’d felt anxious that he wouldn’t want to touch you like he had before; that his implications of loving you were a misunderstanding, or that he’d think you were too injured to have his hands on you. This was exactly what you’d been craving, though. His kisses and caresses were a soothing balm to your nervous heart until the door chime rang out.
He pulled away swiftly and inhaled deeply. Looking you over, it was clear that you were a little worked up, your cheeks rosier than he recalled seeing them. He smirked a bit to himself as he turned away to go out to the front and assist whoever had come in.
You took a moment to compose yourself, and then started putting together the lunch you’d promised him.
The rest of the afternoon, you two exchanged familiar lusty looks as you tended to shop duties. The growing ache of need you had for him seemed worse than ever, the weeks of waiting making themselves known in the thrum of excitement in your skin.
---
At the end of the day, you began your shut down routine while Bofur gave the floor a sweep without prompting. Once everything was locked up, you stopped near the back door, your hand on the light switch. “You coming up?” “I’d like that very much, lass.”
You snorted and shut off the lights, feeling a fluttery sort of anticipation in your stomach as he followed you up to your apartment. You felt stupid getting nervous about him again after how comfortable you’d gotten before; you’d been seeing him every day for weeks. But the distance made it all feel new again, tentative and uncertain. Would he think of you differently now?
---
Standing in the kitchen, you watched as Bofur pawed through the contents of your fridge, trying to determine what the two of you should have for dinner.
His love confession replayed in your mind, guilt settling heavy in your gut as you recalled how you’d admonished him.
“Bofur?” “Mm?” He looked over to see you staring at the floor, your right hand fidgeting with a button on the cardigan you were wearing. You looked so small, he thought, hunched and shrunken in on yourself in shame.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted how I did before. I- I had a hard time, with the last person I loved, and- I just panicked. I should have acted differently. I should have answered the door when you came, or gone to see you, I just- I couldn’t, and- well- it wasn’t fair to you.”
He slowly nodded. This was honestly much more of an apology than he’d expected to get from you based on your previous behaviors. “Thanks for saying so. I forgive ya.” “And I…” Your voice grew quiet, barely a whisper. “I love you. I loved you then, too.”
“Aye, and I love you too, dote.”
He closed the fridge and stepped toward you to tip your chin up and claim your lips with his again.
“Can I call ya mine?” You felt the color in your cheeks once again. “I- suppose,” you conceded. His hand cradled your jaw and neck as he pressed his nose to yours, eyes shut and voice low. “Ye are mine, ain’t ya, lass?” You shut your eyes, feeling foolish for being so affected by him and for being vulnerable enough to want to be his.
You whispered your reply. “Yes, Mr. Bofur.”
Your acquiescence was met with a tender kiss that was soon deepened. You sighed against his lips, the weeks of deprivation making you melt at his advances. “Aye-” Bofur murmured between kisses. “I’m yer Mr. and yer my wee bonny lass.”
He felt a heady high being able to claim you as his own. He’d known from the day you arrived in town and batted your lashes at him over the bar that he was yours; utterly at your mercy and loyal to you. To have you admit to loving him, to agree to be his in return; it was intoxicating.
Your right hand reached up to cup his large face, fingertips resting in the stubble where he kept his beard short. “I missed you,” you admitted, your shaking voice betraying the pain that being away from him had caused. He pressed his forehead to yours, happy to hear it but for the suffering in your voice. “I missed you too, dote. Every moment of every day.”
“Will you really stay?” “I really will; as long as you’ll have me. If yer mine, I’ll be here with ya come what may.” “I’m yours.” He offered you a pitying smile. “No more tears dote, all’s well.”
He kissed you again, and for a moment, you felt the world fall away around you. When he pulled away, you looked up at him hopefully. If you were each other’s, if you loved each other, then maybe you could do it right this time.
“I know it’s all backward, but- Would you… want to go on a real date sometime?” A slow, warm grin stretched across his lips. “I’d love to.”
---
A/N: Sorry there was no smut, and it's so long, and it took so long to get out. It would have taken even longer except a great friend assured me that it would be fine to post without a sex scene, since that was the holdup for the last... uh, two months I guess? JFC. I go cry now.
In case anyone was curious, my headcanon for the sad song Bofur was always cheerfully whistling was Dryad's Promise by Tricky Pixie.
Tags: @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @the-poldarkian @middleearthpixie @myselfandfantasy - Sorry, I wasn't really sure who to tag on this one, so based it mainly on prev. parts rebloggers. If anyone wants to be on any kind of taglist for me (or removed) just lemme know. Never feel pressured to read my work, please.
