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"Look," Bilbo exclaimed for what felt like the hundredth time. "It is all very simple."
He pointed to the large cloth he had unfolded on the ground, a hand drawn four by four grid with various shapes covering it.
“Diamonds, spades, hearts, clubs. You at least know your shapes, I should hope or do I have to explain that to you as well?"
Kíli made a face at him while Fíli snickered something undoubtedly rude under his breath. Ori at least was staring at him in rapt concentration, nodding vigorously as Bilbo explained the rules yet again. The older dwarves were paying little attention, busy eating and talking amongst themselves, no interest in 'childish games' they had declared, when Bilbo had first suggested the respite.
He sniffed to himself. Childish games indeed! Twister was a skill that took time to master and Bilbo had won the tournament several summers in a row in the Shire. He had his little trophies in a place of honor on his mantle, back home at Bag End.
"So I spin this dial,” here he held up the square of sturdy parchment. “and you have to move however it lands. Left hand on diamonds, right foot on clubs and so on."
Kíli frowned, looking deep in thought.
"Are there any weapons involved?" he asked, proving he hadn’t been paying the least bit of attention.
"Of course not!"
"Oh!" Fíli said brightly, "Hand to hand combat is it? I'll definitely win this one."
He turned to punch his brother in the arm, laughing as Kíli yelped and shoved him back. It would have deteriorated into a wrestling match if Bilbo hadn't quickly broken them apart with a shout.
"None of that, now! No roughhousing! We are going to play a very hobbity game for I am absolutely sick of punching and shoving and shouting and all the things you dwarves like to do."
"He seems to like shouting just fine." Kíli muttered to his brother but Bilbo's glare shushed him right up.
"I am not yelling!" he yelled then took a deep breath and continued nominally softer. "I am not yelling, I am simply explaining to you the rules of the game."
Smoothing back his curls, Bilbo took several deep breaths, wrapping his Baggins respectability around him like a cloak. He was going to stay calm because they were going to play Twister and have fun, no matter what.
"I won't play this first round." he decided, eyeing the entirely too innocent looking Fíli and Kíli. "I'll supervise this time around, just till you get the hang of it."
He set the dial carefully down on a flat patch of ground and spun it once to make sure it worked. It spun smoothly and he let it stop on its own before gesturing to Fíli, Kíli and Ori.
“Some one must spin.” he said and Ori jumped forward before Fíli or Kíli could react.
"I'll go first," Ori said eagerly and Bilbo could not help but pat him on the head as Ori squatted to flick the dial. Ori beamed up at him and yes, Bilbo decided, sending one last glare Fíli and Kíli's way, Ori was definitely his favorite.
He bent to see where the arrow landed.
"Ah, left foot spade. You can put it on any spade you like Ori."
Off Ori went, hopping on to the game mat and then dithering a bit before deciding to place his foot on the spade second to the top. There he stood, chest puffed out, smiling proudly at them.
'Well this doesn't seem very hard at all." Kíli said and Bilbo folded his arms and glared at him.
"It isn't at first. It gets harder as the spins go on."
At Kíli’s disbelieving look, Bilbo threw his hands up in the air.
“Oh, just spin the dial." he said crossly and Kíli did as told, nearly tipping over when his brother gave him a discrete shove. Bilbo pretended not to notice.
Just as Bilbo had predicted, the game got tougher as the spins went on. Soon the dwarves were splayed out across the game mat, twisted around each other. Ori had done the best, feet and hands firmly planted on his shapes, bum up in the air but otherwise fairly sturdy.
Fíli, having made the unwise decision to bend over backwards on his second spin, was now stuck between Ori's arms, staring up at him as he balanced precariously. Kíli was curved right over Ori, their legs nearly tangled. The game was going rather well, Bilbo was just telling himself when Kíli and Fíli started grinning. They were not good grins, no they were not, and Bilbo felt a shot of alarm go through him.
"Oh, look,"Kíli said slyly, "I've got little Ori under me."
"And look," said Fíli, "I've got little Ori above me."
Ori squeaked as Kíli began to grind himself against his backside while Fíli tugged his face down for a kiss. Bilbo squawked.
"That is not how we play! Stop that! Stop that immediately!"
The only response was a collapse of dwarves, Ori falling on top of Fíli and Kíli landing on top of Ori. Bilbo could only gape in horror as poor Ori was pinned beneath Kíli and held tight by Fíli, one grinding down upon him as the other ground up. Although, to be fair, Ori did not seem to mind so much, not if his whimpering cries of 'more, yes, please, more' were of any indication.
Bilbo could only sputter, so overcome with horror that his words failed him, or maybe he had too many words, all trying to race out of his mouth so they got jumbled up instead, leaving him to make offended noises as he hopped from foot to foot in agitation.
And oh. Now the Durin boys were taking Ori's clothes off, his cardigan landing in a crumbled heap by Bilbo's feet even as Kíli tugged off his pants and Fíli busied himself removing his shirt. Ori was pale in the firelight, surprisingly slender once nude and Bilbo found himself staring the same way Fíli and Kíli stopped to stare.
It was quiet for a moment and then Ori whimpered, his hand dropping to his cock and Fíli and Kíli were a blur of movement, stripping rapidly until they were naked as Ori. Then they tackled Ori and certain mouths went certain places right on top of Bilbo's game mat.
Bilbo managed a high-pitched shriek.
All the words caught in his throat began to bumble and jumble inside him, pressure building like water in a stoppered tea kettle. If he didn't get these words out and quick, they were going to explode inside him and he was going to die and his headstone would read ‘Here lies poor Bilbo Baggins, dead because of horny dwarves’ and that wouldn't even be the end of his indignity because the Sackville-Bagginses would show up to strike out the name Baggins and replace it with Took.
Seemingly unconcerned with Bilbo's oncoming apoplectic fit, Bofur came rambling up, head cocked to the side as he took in the pornographic scene taking place before them.
"Mister Baggins, you made this game sound much less interesting when you were explaining it to us." he said, having the nerve to sound gently chiding. "I would have agreed to play if I had known this was what it was about."
Before Bilbo could protest that hobbits certainly did not play this way, a murmur of assent came from all the other dwarves. So quickly that Bilbo could not wrap his mind around it, dwarf clothing was flying every which way and the three naked forms on the game mat became four, five, six, on and on until only Bilbo was left.
It was, well, goodness, completely inappropriate and certainly unclean, just look at all the glistening sweat on those large muscular bodies, the way they gleamed in the firelight. And the noises! Far too loud, those heated groans and moans, whimpers and cries, even the sound of flesh on flesh, slick, wet noises...
Bilbo bit his lip, pretended his breeches weren't suddenly too tight and also pretended he wasn't staring because a respectable hobbit would look away. Not that any of the company seemed to care whether they were watched or not, much too busy touching each other, tangling fingers in beards, pressing mouths to skin.
Bilbo suddenly felt very lonely and was just turning sadly away when one of the hairy muscular bodies disengaged itself from the rest.
Thorin strode over to him, and Bilbo tried to look him in the eye, really he did but with every step Thorin took, his very erect cock bounced as if waving hello.
"Will you not join us, burglar?" Thorin asked, deep voice deeper still with arousal. “This is your game, after all.”
"Oh no, that's quite all right." Bilbo told Thorin's penis because he still could not bring himself to look away from it, it was so majestic. “I’m sure I'd just get in the way.”
Thorin huffed out a noise and then his big rough hands were divesting Bilbo of his jacket and his shirt and there went his pants and Bilbo kept waiting for the Baggins in him to start shrieking a protest. But it was oddly silent and the Took part was cheering loudly, gleefully pointing out that soon, soon they would be getting to touch that lovely cock.
Then Thorin scooped him up and began to carry him back to the pile of dwarves, who had not slowed down in the slightest while Thorin had stripped Bilbo. While Bilbo may have just acknowledged to himself, that yes, indeed, he was going to be joining in on a dwarf orgy, he could certainly do so on his own two feet. He was perfectly capable of walking the few feet to the game mat and told Thorin as much, trying to wiggle out of his arms. Thorin paid him no mind, depositing him right in the middle of the pile of writhing, naked dwarves. Then Thorin joined in and after that, well, Bilbo kept wriggling but he wasn't trying to get away.
*
Much, much later, sticky and sweaty and thoroughly sated, Bilbo reflected that dwarvish things were perhaps not as bad as he had first thought. In fact, a very hobbity game had been thoroughly improved by dwarvishness, although Bilbo doubted he could ever inform any one in the Shire of said improvements. Still, it seemed rough and tumble dwarf ways had their own charms.
Then he curled down into Thorin's arms, the snores of thirteen satisfied dwarves lulling him to sleep.