Bilbo slipped his arms around Thorin's waist, and pulled the Dwarf closer to him. He rested his head on the Dwarf's chest, and took in a deep breath. Taking in the familiar scent of Thorin. The one he had grown so very fond of, even before their time together in Madison Valley. "I love you, Thorin," he murmured, as he made himself comfortable against him.
"Legolas said I lived to be over eleventy-one and I never married. ...I can see why. Losing you back home was hard. I had never felt for anyone as I had you, and I felt like I had lost part of myself."
At least he'd taken in his nephew. He'd had company. He was sure he'd had a happy life, but without Thorin...