I’m not sure what I’m doing, Syazzy. But you refused to let me have random shooting and Thorin dies and Bilbo cries a la BoFA so.
"Thorin wants more coffee." Bofur’s head popped into the tiny corner that was supposedly his office.
Bilbo huffed. “Already? I just delivered a pot not five minutes ago. Hot. There is no way anyone — even someone with levels of “majestic” like Thorin — could have finished it that fast.”
"Um… About that." Bofur suddenly found his shoes very interesting.
"What." The normally good natured secretary growled. It was creepy, seeing someone who normally grinned and waved off their boss’s perpetual grumpiness he labelled "majesticness" growling at you.
Bofur gulped. “He didn’t like it.”
"Of all the…" Bilbo nearly shouted.
"Thorin Oakenshield! You get your head out of your behind now! I’m NOT your personal maidservant! Drink your damn coffee. It’s the same damn thing you forced me to learn to make the first WEEK I was here. TWO YEARS AGO. And you were the one that said I HAD TO LEARN IT PERFECT because YOU NEVER CHANGE SO YOU EXPECT PERFECTION." Bilbo bent over, slamming a set into the low coffee table in the corner before storming out.
From across Thorin, Dís raised an eyebrow. “Really, brother, I thought better of you.”
The CEO blinked rapidly, attempting to restore blood to the correct head. One needed to stay alert when speaking to Dís, or face beheading. In both senses of the word. “I’m sorry, sister?”
"That is no way to treat your fiancé, is it? I would have thought you figured out a smarter way for you to ogle his arse after so long." Dís smirked.
"Wha- I don’t- Dís!" Thorin sputtered.
His sister shook her head. “I don’t see why you have to go through the trouble. Just drag him into a cupboard and ravish him already. It’s not like you do anything worse at home, going at it like bunnies. The boys haven’t managed to mention either of you without going red since Bilbo moved in!”