#fiki100

*

He made it to the hospital in record time. Probably broke a few speeding laws on the way there, and probably didn’t have enough change for the extortionate parking fees, but all of that was irrelevant.

The only thing relevant was Kili.

Fili pushed his way to the front of the queue and locked eyes with the receptionist. “Kili Durin.”

He watched her eyes flicker to the grumbling people behind him and opened her mouth. His eyes narrowed, and Fili felt no small sense of satisfaction as she seemed to think better of what she was about to say and turned her attention to her computer.

“Ward 5C, room 3. Follow the overhead signs.”

Fili gave her a brusque nod and stalked away. His hands curled into fists and he shoved them into his pockets, trying to rein in a fury that threatened to tear him apart.

*

If Fili could feel grief, he might have wept at the sight of Kili’s unconscious form.

But he could not. All he felt was his control rapidly spiralling, and he hated every second of it. It was all because of Kili. Before he’d entered into this… domestic arrangement, before the convenient alibi had become something more, weakness had never been a word Fili applied to himself.

Now, he was weak. He was weak because the rage he’d kept a lid on for his whole life was at risk of spilling out, and it was all because of Kili.

It was all because Fili had taken a jagged knife and carved out the chasm where his heart should be, and Kili had filled that void with a love that had contaminated the rest of him. What once was clinical and composed, was now anything but.

His train of thought was lost as Kili stirred, his eyes cracking open. The brown pools were a stark contrast to the pallid skin, almost entirely devoid of colour. “You came.”

Fili glared at him. “Obviously,” he ground out. “What happened?”

“Accident,” Kili’s voice was feeble, tired. “There was a car, it mounted the pavement.”

An accident. A simple accident had almost cleaved Kili from his life. Fili took a huge breath and let it out in shuddering increments. Someone would pay for this.

“No,” Kili said, a little more firmly. “I can hear you plotting from here. Fee, it was an accident. Please.”

Fili wasn’t going to make any such promise, but Kili was hurt and not in a position to argue. He clenched his jaw. “We’ll talk about it when you’re home,” he relented. That was the only concession he could make right now.

Kili’s hand reached out slowly, fingers turned up in invitation. Fili took it without hesitation, and felt some of his anger dissipate at the warmth of Kili’s skin.

“You’re mad,” Kili said.

Fili stared at Kili, wondering if perhaps there was some additional brain damage the nurse had neglected to inform him of. He wondered if maybe Kili had missed the obvious way he had invaded every aspect of Fili’s life. That by accepting him, he had become part of Fili’s ritual as well as part of his life. And the universe had dared try to take Kili from him.

“I think I have a reason to be. You were almost killed.”

“Careful,” Kili slurred. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in love with me.”

Fili’s hand twitched in Kili’s, and for an instant he thought about withdrawing, considered turning away. For the very first time, he felt what might have been construed as shame. Shame that he couldn’t love Kili as he deserved. That anyone else would be distraught right now, but Fili’s primary emotion was fury.

A thousand different responses ran through his head, but he settled on one. “You should leave me, you know. Find someone who can give you what you deserve.”

Even with his eyes half-closed, almost delirious with pain, his face almost as white as the pillow beneath him, Kili managed a brilliant smile.

“Did your morphine kick in?” Fili asked, dryly. “Or are you just relishing the thought of getting away from me?”

Kili hummed, sleepily. “The morphine. But you do love me.”

“You know that… you know I don’t. I can’t,” Fili hissed, and the hand that wasn’t entwined with Kili’s clenched tightly. “I told you, I do feel a… a bond towards you. I like being around you. It tempers me. You make every day a little less unbearable. But that’s all.”

Kili didn’t reply immediately, and Fili wondered if he’d fallen asleep. “You stupid man,” Kili breathed, as the morphine overtook him. “That’s what love is.”

*

Neither of them brought up Kili’s words again while he remained in the hospital.

But Fili thought of nothing else. Every night when he lay alone in a bed that suddenly seemed much too cold, much too large, he reflected on Kili’s words.

Was that truly how it was, to love someone? Fili didn’t think so. He’d never been able to fathom it as a concept. From birth, he should have unconditionally loved his mother, his father. He had not. He had looked at them and felt nothing but appreciation for their convenience.

So how could it be that Kili was so convinced that what Fili felt for him could be love?

The thoughts consumed him, and it was only when Kili returned to their home that Fili found the answer.

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded, kneeling at Kili’s feet and laying a possessive hand across his knee.

Kili smiled softly. “I love you,” he replied.

“I like hearing that,” Fili confessed. “It thrills me. I can’t understand the way you feel, but I know that it excites me, as if I possess you. That part of you has surrendered to me willingly, and accepts me for what I am. Each time you say those words, it’s a reminder of that satisfaction.”

Kili nods, curiously. “I think I understand.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. That what we have, what I feel for you, is love. I think that out of the two of us, you’re the best person to make that judgement.” Fili trails off, trying to gather the words to explain what he’d come to realise.

“I can’t say if you’re right, Kee. I don’t know if you are. But I know that your place in my life is both irrevocable and irreplaceable, and you deserve to know that. You deserve to hear it. So if that is what you believe love to be, then I love you.”

Kili leaned down and kissed him.

When they finally broke apart, Fili’s hand came up to grasp Kili’s chin, fingers tight as he gazed into Kili’s eyes. “You know that means I’ll kill you if you ever leave me.”

Kili shuddered, and Fili got the distinct impression that was less of a threat than he’d intended it to be. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Kili finding out wasn’t quite his intention, and yet Fili couldn’t stop himself from half-yearning for Kili to discover that behind the loving façade was a man who lacked empathy entirely. A man who had killed. A man who had killed for him.

Perhaps that was why Fili was letting the charade slip, a little at a time. Oh, he’d been so careful to stick to it at first. Cuddling after sex, making sure he stayed in bed with Kili for a reasonable amount of time. He made sure to share in his emotions, crying on cue when Kili’s mother had passed and offering comfort to his lover. Yet as soon as he was alone, the crying ceased, the buzz of emotion was turned off like a switch.

Fili had learned from a very young age how to mimic empathy. How to manifest human emotion at the drop of a hat. How to manipulate the emotions of others around him. He understood emotion perfectly. He just experienced it to a much lesser degree, and it had little lasting effect. 

Throughout his relationship with Kili, he had been careful not to give that away. These days, he was being less cautious. It was a game of risk, wondering just how much he could give away before Kili discovered something. Before Fili would have to kill him.

Fili often wondered what it would be like, to be covered in Kili’s blood. To see the light leave his eyes and feel his heart stop.

He wondered if it would make him feel something stronger. Would it be the click of a plan falling into place, the closest thing he felt to happiness? Or would there be frustration, the primary emotion that replaced an empty void where grief and remorse should be?

Alas, tonight would not be the night to find out. He’d slipped Kili a sedative in his wine at dinner. He’d sleep through till morning, missing all of the excitement.

It had given Fili the night to take full advantage of his latest victim—a former co-worker of Kili’s, who had gotten a little too vicious after a few drinks, and offered a little too freely her opinion of Kili’s lifestyle.

Fili had never known rage like it. The evidence of which was all over his shirt and arms. He usually took more care with his chosen victims, but tonight his emotions had got the better of him.

He hadn’t even packed a spare shirt.

But the deed was done, and her venomous tongue would never put doubts on Kili’s head again.

Unlocking the cellar door, Fili stepped inside his home, a silvery knife clutched in his right hand. It was part of the ritual now, since Kili moved in. An added precaution, in case he was discovered.

But the house was dark. No sound of movement.

Fili relaxed, setting the blade down on the bench and tearing off his shirt. He bundled it into the washing machine and moved to the sink to begin scrubbing his hands. The water swirled murky against the stainless steel, and the last evidence of his nightly activities drained away.

The light overhead flickered on and Fili wheeled around.

Kili stood before him, wide awake, still in the pyjamas he’d been sleeping in when Fili left. But his eyes held no trace of sleep.

In answer to the unasked question, Kili tossed a bottle at him. With still soaked hands, Fili caught it, his eyes flickering away from Kili for only an instant.

Pro Plus Energy Shot. He must have taken it to counteract the sedative.

He knew.

Fili’s eyes flickered to the blade he’d carelessly left behind him. It lay askew on the counter, mocking him for his negligence. It gleamed from its recent polish, only minutes before Fili had left the cellar. He took pride in his instruments. A combination of chalk dust and vodka brought out the brilliance of the sheen. How fitting that it would be the last thing he ever saw.

His mind raced, thinking of excuses, lies, ten different ways to escape this situation, most of them revolving around killing, killing, killing—

Kili’s eyes followed his own path to the blade and he picked it up. The blade buried in the top of their kitchen counter—the place they’d prepared dinner together only hours earlier—and began to twirl.

“Are you going to kill me?” Kili’s voice was hoarse but unwavering.

And this, this could be why Fili would have loved him in any other universe, if he was any other man. Because Kili was standing there, faced with his own potential demise, and there wasn’t a trace of fear in his eyes.

Fili licked his lips, the lie heavy on his tongue, and found he couldn’t bring himself to speak it. He wanted to know what Kili would do when faced with the truth. There was no way of getting out of this, so he’d satisfy his own curiosity if nothing else.

“I don’t want to. I’d never planned to.”

“But you’ve thought about it.”

Fili nods, his eyes fixed on the still-twirling knife. “So many times. The first night we spent together, after we fucked, I wanted nothing more than to cut your throat, let your blood run over my sheets. You would have looked beautiful.”

“Why didn’t you?” The knife paused.

“Because I looked at you when you were sleeping, and I realised you looked beautiful anyway.”

Kili pulled the knife away from the counter and stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

Fili didn’t move, just watched him approach with sharp eyes. Waiting for a window. Waiting for a trigger.

“Did you ever love me?” Kili asked, softly.

“I’m not capable of love, but I do care for you. I hold you in higher regard than anyone else I’ve ever met. My turn to ask a question now. How long have you known?”

Kili shrugged. “Not for certain until tonight.” The knife in his hand moved and Fili twitched, but Kili didn’t attack.

Instead, he did the unthinkable.

The knife twirled in his hand so the blade was between his fingers, and he offered the handle to Fili.

What was the play here? Why would he—?

Fili met the unwavering brown eyes that were fixed on him. Still no fear. He exhaled slowly and reached for the knife, feeling it slip from Kili’s grasp into his own.

His head tilted curiously, and he pointed the blade towards Kili’s throat, just close enough to touch the tip to his Adam’s apple.

Kili swallowed, and his pupils dilated at the motion. Not fear, still. No. Something else.

The knife slipped lower, down Kili’s chest. Over his stomach. To the waistband of his loose navy pyjama pants. Pants that had gotten a whole lot tighter over the last few moments. 

Ah.

Kili was aroused.

Fili calmed instantly, something foreign welling up in his chest. No, not exactly foreign, but something rare. Something he never really felt outside of the ritual.

Acceptance.

He could see it written all over Kili’s face as plain as day. Gone was the naïve and oblivious mask Kili had worn daily, and Fili let his own mask slip away in return.

In that moment, he laid himself bare for Kili, and found nothing but incomprehensible love. Kili loved the monster behind the man, regardless of whether or not the man could ever love him back.

They’d found something together that worked while they lived a life of smoke and mirrors. With those obstacles removed, Fili knew that they would only find something better. Something dark and beautiful.

The knife slipped below the waistband of Kili’s pants, and Kili closed his eyes, his head tilting back as his lips parted. The exhale was music to Fili’s ears. He withdrew and tossed the knife behind him. His mouth sealed over Kili’s moments before it clattered against the wall.

Kili’s acceptance had sparked a different kind of need in him tonight. Something urgent. Something hungry.

Something that would not be denied.

And it was clear Kili had no intention of denying him.

“You sound as though you doubted I would wake at all.”

Fili reaches for Kili, and his hand stills as he looks around the room. Oin is already beating a hasty retreat, and as the door closes behind him, Fili can just about make out the slight click of a lock.

He’s giving them privacy.

“It’s been a whole week since the battle. My fear made me doubtful, but my heart knew you’d return to me,” Kili whispers.

Fili traces Kili’s immaculate braids, fingers clumsy moving to trace his ear, palm curving down to settle at the side of his neck.

And Kili preens, leaning into the touch with all the eagerness of a cat. The tension in his body slips away and he all but melts under Fili’s attentions.

He’s never done that before.

Fili’s fingers continue their exploration of Kili, thumb brushing along his jaw, over his cheekbones, sweeping across his lips.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs.

Kili’s shoulders tremble, and the sound that escapes him can only be described as a sob.

“Kee, what’s wrong?” Fili tries to prop himself up further, but it tugs at the stitches in his chest and he stops. “Did I scare you so much that you must weep?”

Kili shakes his head. “That’s… that’s not… it’s nothing.”

“Tell me,” Fili insists. “Sannadadith, tell me what pains you so.”

“It’s… I simply forgot how nice it is to be touched, to be complimented. Such a simple thing… and it feels so selfish to say.”

“Surely I am not the only one to touch you? To give you a compliment? Surely Thorin must have told you how bravely you fought at the battle?”

Kili’s hands wring together and he doesn’t meet Fili’s eyes. “There has been much to do, and Thorin has been busy...”

Fili tries his hardest not to betray how that really makes him feel, but resolves to have words with Thorin at the first opportunity. “I see,” he says mildly. “Then I shall have to stop being remiss in my duties. Lie with me?”

“Fee, you’re hurt.” Kili tries to object. “Besides, you just woke up. I should be taking care of you....”

“And there will be time for that later. For now, as you say, I’m hurt. So you should join me rather than making me get up. Get over here.”

Kili slides on the small cot. There’s barely enough room for Fili, but they’ve always found a way to make room for each other and this is no exception.

They curl around each other, and Fili’s hand buries itself in Kili’s dark hair, massaging his scalp and combing through the soft locks.

Kili goes pliant under his touch, face buried in Fili’s neck.

They don’t speak, for no words would add to this moment. Content to lie entwined, they both feel truly whole for the first time since the battle.

And that’s how Oin finds them when he returns thirty minutes later, intent on checking Fili’s bandages.

*

When he opened his eyes, he saw the stars.

They were brighter than he’d ever remembered, and reminded Kili more of the ocean than the night sky.

These stars were deep and shallow all at once, and he could stare for hours and never be able to identify every shade of blue.

He blinked again and realised that the stars were talking to him.

“Can you hear me? Can you tell me what your name is?”

“Kili,” he breathes, and his eyes begin to flutter closed again.

“No, keep your eyes open for me. Kili, stay with me, okay? Kili!”

The stars said his name so sweetly, but the saccharine embrace of sleep called to him more strongly, and Kili remembered nothing more.

*

Opening his eyes stung like hell, but his doctor insisted he try.

His head lolled to the side in an attempt to shield himself from the brightness of the overhead light, and he cracked his eyes open again, feeling them water from sensitivity.

The first thing he saw was a burst of colours: pinks, purples, whites. They all blurred together, until Kili blinked again and his vision cleared.

Flowers.

A glimpse of movement caught his attention and he turned instinctively. Someone was leaving his room. Kili saw a glimpse of blonde hair and broad shoulders and licked his lips.

“Hey,” he croaked.

The man froze, and turned, looking a little sheepish to have been caught. “You’re awake.”

“So it appears. I’m still not convinced I’m not dead.”

“You were lucky. You punctured an artery. My partner and I had a hell of a time keeping you alive until we got to the hospital.”

“Your… partner?”

The stranger perched on the edge of his bed, and Kili got a better look at him for the first time. Those eyes… why did they look so familiar?

“I’m a paramedic.”

Kili didn’t know what to say to that. Thanks didn’t seem like enough, and either way the word stuck in his throat. “You often visit your patients?”

If he had the strength, he would have kicked himself for that. Way to sound ungrateful, Kili.

“Sometimes.” The man didn’t seem offended. “I’m Fili, by the way.”

Kili tried to nod, but it bought a fresh burst of pain behind his eyes and he hissed behind his teeth. Better not to try that again. 

Instead, he changed topics again. “The flowers are beautiful.”

He was surprised when Fili almost seemed to fidget at the words. “I just… I wasn’t… everyone deserves to have flowers when they’re in the hospital.”

Kili’s eyes widened just a fraction. The flowers were from Fili? He managed a smile. “Do you often bring flowers to your patients?” He asked.

So he was being kind of a dick. The way he saw it, he nearly died and everyone could cut him some slack.

“Only the ones that wax lyrical about my eyes while I’m scraping them off the tarmac.” Fili shoots back.

Kili’s eyes widened even further. “I did what?”

“Yep.” Fili’s mouth made a pop sound on the plosive, and he looked quite pleased with himself. “It was quite flattering, really.”

“Yeah, well, I can hardly be blamed for not having a filter and talking absolute rubbish. I did hit my head after all.”

This felt familiar. Easy bickering, light and insincere. It was the first time Kili had felt normal in the few days or so since he’d first woken up, and he even started to smile.

Of course, that was exactly when Fili’s pager went off and he glanced down at it instantly. “I have to go.”

Kili promised himself he wasn’t disappointed, and tried to ease back into casual politeness. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you. Lives to save, and all that. Maybe the next patient will weave sonnets about the golden colour of your hair.”

For fuck’s sake.

But Fili only smiled. “I’ve no doubt you could do better. I’ll come back in a couple of days and you can give me your best shot, how about that?”

“Don’t count on it,” Kili muttered, but he couldn’t stop the smile spreading over his face.

Concerned another troll situation might be brought upon them, Balin kept one eye open when everyone settled down for the night.

The whispers started first, but he couldn’t make out the words. Just the occasional breath, the sibilance of private words that drifted on the light breeze. Nothing unusual there. Whispers in the dark were a frequent lullaby as they all drifted off. Platitudes and snipes, compliments and questions, whatever popped into their head.

The point was, the whispering was not uncommon.

Then Kili sat up and jerked his head towards the forest.

Balin didn’t move, but a quick sweep of his gaze told him nobody else was awake. He watched through narrowed eyes as the future princes rose from their beds and disappeared into the trees, out of sight.

For a moment, he contemplated following them. But his bones were old, and he was quite sure he wanted no part in whatever scheme or prank the boys were concocting.

It had just better not be aimed at him.

Still, to be safe, he stayed awake for a while longer, just to make sure they returned safely.

He remained awake long enough to see the boys reappear, and subsequently witnessed the kiss Fili pressed to Kili’s lips. Nothing that could at all be mistaken for brotherly. There was no mistaking the tender expression on his face, a look that was reflected back from Kili.

Agony gripped Balin’s heart, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Oh, no.

*     *     *

Though Balin was the first to notice, he was not the last. That honour went to Thorin.

Balin knew that it was not a lack of observance that made Thorin blind to his nephew’s actions, and was simply his devout hope that he was mistaken.

“You know.” Thorin’s pony hung back to align with Balin’s.

Balin gave a resigned nod. “Aye, that I do. They aren’t exactly subtle.”

“They know not of the consequences that await them if somewhere other than us discovers them.” Thorin’s words are quiet, solemn, spoken with the gravitas of a future king and not a concerned uncle.

“I imagine they don’t. How could they? Yet they know enough to try to keep it secret.”

Thorin’s mouth stayed a thin line of disapproval. “Not well. They didn’t inherit Dis’ subtlety, but they retained Thrain’s temerity.”

“You’re not exactly lacking in that trait yourself, Thorin.” Balin gave him a knowing look. “Should I take your words to mean you don’t disapprove?”

Thorin didn’t reply immediately. “I would not say that,” he replied delicately. “But I would say I’m not surprised. They’ve always been… close.”

Balin nodded. “Aye. But close is not forbidden in our laws. Are you going to tell them exactly what the punishment is for incest?”

He was grateful for Thorin’s wince. It showed his heart still held some sway over his head.

“Not yet,” Thorin said eventually. “Should we fail in our mission, they intend to strike out on their own anyway. Make their own life. They need never experience the shame of our laws upon them.”

“But if we reclaim the mountain, they will be princes. Your heirs. Every eye in Erebor will be upon them. They should have that forewarning.”

Thorin mused on that for a long moment. “No. We have a perilous journey ahead. Let them have this time.”

Balin glanced over his shoulder at Fili and Kili, who were riding side-by-side, deep in animated conversation.

Fili unscrews the bottle cap, and recoils from the smell. He misses ale. Mead. Sickly sweet wine. Not this… paint stripper that humans have the audacity to call alcohol.

His heart yearns, for something that not even mead could fix.

Fili puts the lid back on the bottle and tosses the bottle into the backseat. His legs move of their own accord, and Mahal, he's not dressed for this, he's wearing yesterday's t-shirt and his hair hasn't seen a comb in two days, but it's now or never—

He pushes open the doors and strides into the church with a confidence that he doesn't feel. All eyes turn to him, but he only has eyes for one man.

"Fili, what are you doing?" Kili hisses, and he takes a few steps away from the altar before his brain catches up. He freezes, lingering in place uncomfortably, a half-glance over his shoulder at his bride-to-be.

And Fili's mouth goes dry because he truly thought he'd have chickened out by this point, and he doesn't even know what he wants to say.

But he has to say something because if he doesn't, if he lets Kili get married, he'll have squandered this second chance Mahal has given him.

"I remember everything about both of our lives," he begins quietly. It's unnerving, having the attention of the full church on him. People he knew in his last life, and some he did not. Yet all of them watching him open his heart, lay it bare in desperation.

A last attempt to mend it, before it's broken beyond repair.

Fili swallows and continues. "I know you only remember fragments, but I remember it all. I remember that my heart only truly started to beat the moment you were born, in this life as well as the last. I remember that my last act in Arda was to send you away from me so that you would survive. I remember that I loved you more than anything, more than Erebor, more than my own life. That hasn't changed."

Kili chokes back a sound of shock, but Fili's eyes drift past him to a stunned Tauriel and despite everything weighing on this moment, he can't help but feel bad for her. "And I'm sorry—Tauriel, I'm so sorry that I did this now, I'm sorry that I'm here to take him away from you again..."

Tauriel's chin lifts, an attempt to try and maintain her composure. It doesn't quite work. "You didn't take him away from me last time."

Fili meets her gaze steadily. "Didn't I?" He might not have been around to see it but he's heard Kili's fractured memories of the battle many times. That Bolg had him, that he hadn't even attempted to struggle. Kili could never remember why his heart had turned to lead, or his joints to stone, but he'd confided in Fili that he did remember his death had been welcome.

As if she registers the truth in his words, Tauriel averts her eyes, but Fili is already looking back at Kili. And being here now, seeing him all dressed up in a gorgeous suit, with fluffy hair that won't be tamed for anyone, it's only too easy to say how he feels.

Everyone else fades away, because Kili is the only person that matters now.

"I love you, Kee. I love you now as I loved you then. Not as a brother but as half of me. As my destiny."

Kili looks up at him, a face torn with indecision but his eyes are intense and solemn. "I don't believe in destiny."

But it's not a no, it's not an outright rejection, and by the murmuring and gasps from the pews, Fili isn't the only person who realises that.

It gives him hope.

"Then believe in me," he says simply. "In every lifetime I have been and will be by your side until Mahal himself tears me away. I know with certainty that this is where I'm meant to be. The only question left is, where are you supposed to be?"

The silence that echoes his words is deafening. Fili doesn't even breathe, isn't sure he can remember how to⁠—

Then Kili takes a shaky step forward, and then another. On the third step, he stumbles, but Fili is there to catch him as he always is, as he always will be.

There's uproar around them, but Fili doesn't care one iota, just guides Kili back down the aisle without a second glance.

He almost can't bring himself to look at Kili, to see him flinch from the disparaging names being called after them both—the most colourful unsurprisingly coming from Legolas—or find any hint of regret, but when Fili glances over, he just sees peace.

He plans on making a quick getaway—or as quick as his shitty rust-bucket car will allow—but as soon as they're seated in the car, Kili reaches for him.

Fili follows his lead as a soft hand winds around the back of his neck, allowing himself to be pulled forward as their foreheads touch. His eyes flutter closed, savouring the moment.

"Fee," Kili whispers, and there's a lifetime of love in that single word.

It had been an accidental meeting and a whirlwind romance. Fresh out of a failed relationship, Kili had gone out to have a few drinks with friends. There’d been an accidental bump, a spilled drink, and Kili had whirled around to throw a punch.

He hadn’t banked on how adorably embarrassed Fili had been, or the attractiveness of the mouth that was apologising over and over.

They’d spent that night together, and the next. Three months later, Kili had all but moved in with Fili. 

Two days after that, he’d gotten a call from his agent.

Another two days after that, Fili had kissed him goodbye at the airport.

That had been two years ago now, and they hadn’t spoken since.

*

“I am so, so, sorry. I’m just… god, I’m just the clumsiest person in the world. Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?

“...yeah, okay. No harm done.”

“I’m Fili. Fili the fundamentally uncoordinated.”

“That must look really awkward on your passport. I’m Kili. Nice to meet you.”

*

Fili’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the hands-free display distractedly.

Kili Durin leaves costar Sigrid Bardsdottir’s manor in the early hours.

He swiped off the notification with irritation and hit the indicator with a little more force than was necessary, and then chastised himself mentally.

He was working, had to pick up yet another rich arsehole flying in from some mansion, and drive them around for the weekend.

He didn’t have time to be angry.

He shouldn’t be angry anyway. It had been two years.

Kili was allowed to date whoever he wanted.

It wasn’t wrong for him to move on. Deep down, Fili knew that. He was the weird one. He was the one who was still clinging on to what might have been.

The one following Kili’s career in the news.

The one still in love, though he’d never even admitted it aloud.

Fili pulled into the designated parking spot at airport arrivals and cut the engine. He needed to stop torturing himself with thoughts of what might have been. If things might have been different, if only he’d told Kili he loved him.

If only he’d asked him to stay.

Instead, when Kili had finished telling him about the audition, Fili hadn’t know what to say.

So he’d let him go.

*

“So? What do you think?”

“It sounds like the big break you’ve been waiting for. You’re not likely to get another chance like this.”

“You think I should take it then? It’s… it’s a whole year in LA.”

“Kee, of course you should. We never made any promises about this. About us. It’s still new. Too new for you to make any rash decisions, and I know I don’t want to hold you back. Take the role.”

“...yeah, okay. You’re right.”

*

Kili grabbed his suitcase from baggage claim and stopped to take a couple of selfies with some approaching fans.

“Is it true you’re dating Sigrid Bardsdottir?” One of them asked, bravely.

“Not at all.” Kili assured them swiftly, putting on a charming smile for the camera. “She’s just a friend.”

He ducked away at the first polite opportunity, wishing them a pleasant day, and began looking for his ride. It had all been arranged for him, under the pseudonym ‘Mr. Thorinson.’. Supposedly his driver would be holding up a sign with that name.

It was easy enough to find. He saw the placard and, weary from the long flight, was already halfway over before he bothered to look up at the man holding the card.

Only to stop dead, shock reflecting back at him along with recognition.

“Fili?” He gasped.

“Kili?”

Kili closed the gap between them, dropping his suitcase on the floor and enveloping Fili in a firm hug. Maybe if he’d thought about it for a second longer, he would have reacted differently, but he didn’t think so.

All he knew was a familiar face, a face he’d been yearning to see again. Luck and coincidence and maybe fate had brought them here.

And oh, Kili was just so happy to see him.

Fili returned the embrace just as tightly, Kili was glad to note. But all too soon they broke apart, not having any clue what to say.

“I… I’m working,” Fili mumbled, gesturing to his placard.

“That’s me.” Kili rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Mr. Thorinson was what my PA booked everything under.”

“Oh.” Fili’s face was unreadable. “The car’s this way, then.”

Kili nodded, feeling like there was suddenly half-a-dozen walls between them. Walls he wasn’t sure he could break down.

Walls he wasn’t sure he had any right to.

*

“What are you thinking? That’s your serious face.”

“That I’m going to miss this. Going to miss you. Being here, like this, with you… it makes me happy.”

“Let’s not talk about it anymore. Your flight leaves in, what, nine hours? Just for now, let’s be right here, in this moment.”

“I’m here, Fee. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

*

They drove in silence for a long way, silence broken only by the sound of the radio.

Kili had refused to sit in the back of the Bentley, separated by a screen. Instead, he’d climbed into the front with Fili.

“So… you drive fancy cars now?”

“It’s a job, and it pays well,” Fili shrugged. “We can’t all have movie star wages.”

Kili flinched, and Fili felt a bitter stab of satisfaction. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean? That I’m not making the most of my skills? Or maybe that I haven’t done much with my life since you’ve been gone?”

“I had no idea you thought so poorly of me,” Kili replied quietly.

Fili glanced away. “I haven’t thought of you at all,” he lied.

He didn’t mean to be so hostile. He really didn’t. But Kili was here and Fili was just so aware of how lacking his life was without him.

How he’d lost his drive to do more. Be more.

“I thought about you.”

Fili felt his anger drain. Why did Kili have to be so completely honest all the time? He always just said whatever he was thinking, and it was one of the things Fili had always loved about him.

“Yeah?” He asked wearily. “Was that before or after your date with Sigrid Bardsdottir? Or maybe after Tauriel what’s-her-name?”

“That’s horseshit and you know it. All of those rumours are crap,” Kili snapped. “That Tauriel rumour was less than a month after I arrived in L.A. If you think I would just tumble into bed with someone when I still hadn’t moved on from you, then—”

“Hang on,” Fili wasn’t even sure where to begin dissecting that sentence. “You’re trying to say that in two years, there hasn’t been a single person…?” He trailed off.

Kili stared out of the window, his jaw clenched. “No.”

“Bullshit,” Fili said eventually.

“Believe whatever you want. Fee… Fili. But it wasn’t me that ran out of the door. You told me to go. You don’t get to blame me for not immediately moving on.”

*

“You’re going to miss your flight.”

“I don’t care. Just… kiss me again.”

“Kee, are you crying?”

“Of course I am, you prat. I’m going to miss you.”

“You’ll forget all about me in a couple of weeks, once you get a taste of the celebrity life.”

“Not a chance.”

*

“That’s not fair, Kili. This was your big chance. I had no right to hold you back, to put that kind of pressure on you. We’d only been dating for a few months, we hadn’t even said… things.”

“I know.” Kili stared out of the window. Two years he’d been gone, and everything looked so different and yet so fundamentally the same.

“Then how could I ask you to give that up to be with me?”

Kili shook his head. “You could have let me know the option was there. You told me to go, so I thought… well, maybe you weren’t interested in me staying. Like you said, we’d never made any promises.”

When Fili didn’t immediately reply, Kili glanced over. “What?”

“I never wanted you to go,” Fili admitted.

Kili gave a bitter smile and turned away. “If only you’d said that two years ago.”

“Would it have made a difference? If I’d asked you, that day you told me about the audition, to give it all up and stay with me, what would you have said?”

Kili had thought about that exact scenario almost every night for the last two years. The answer rolled off his tongue without a second thought, before he could make any attempt to censor it or hold it back.

“I’d have told you I loved you. And that I wasn’t going anywhere.”

*

“This is Fili, leave a message.”

“Hey. It’s me. You’re probably driving home now, I’ve just gotten through security. I’m just sitting here feeling like I’ve made a huge mistake, Fee. I should stay. Please, just call me back and ask me to stay. I need to tell you that I love—”

“Message complete. To re-record your message, press 1. To delete, press 2.”

“... Message deleted.”

*

“You can’t know that.” Fili’s voice came out strangled, but he did nothing to repress it. Overcome with emotion, he pulled over at the side of the road, cutting the engine.

Kili had loved him too.

“I do. I called you from the airport lounge. I would have stayed.”

“Then you would never have known if you’d made the right choice. And even if you did, I wouldn’t have. I would have been always wondering if I’d made you give up your chance at the life most people dream of. I would have always wondered if you regretted it If you’d made the wrong choice.”

“I hadn’t thought about it like that,” Kili admitted. “But I can tell you with complete honesty that I did make the wrong choice by going.”

Fili nodded.

“I don’t have to make that mistake twice,” Kili offered quietly.

“Are you saying—?” Fili’d head snapped round, his mouth falling open in a gape.

“I’m saying that my feelings haven’t changed, not after all this time. Have yours?”

Fili exhaled. “No. But I have. As a person, I mean. We might not… we might not fit together anymore.”

But this time, he wasn’t going to talk Kili into leaving him behind. The choice had to be Kili’s, but Fili would present him with all his options.

“I’m in no rush to get back to L.A.” Kili smiled, holding his hand out. “We could find out.”

“I’d like that.” Fili took the offered hand and used it as leverage to pull Kili forward. Their noses bumped together slightly, and then Fili corrected his angle and kissed him gently.

“Stay,” he breathed, as their lips parted.

“Always,” Kili whispered.

*

“Hey Bilbo, this is Kili. I know I asked you for six months off, but the thing is… I’m getting married. And I’m ready to settle down out of the spotlight now.”

“I see. This isn’t entirely unexpected, but you’re a talented lad and I’m sad to see you go, my boy. I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask, though… are you sure this is what you want?”

“There’s not a doubt in my mind. I found where I’m supposed to be.”

“Then I wish you and Fili the best of luck. And if you ever change your mind and need an agent again, you know where I am.”

 “Thanks, Bilbo. You will come to the wedding, won’t you?”