He was a hobbit of The Shire, and an incredibly happy one at that.

His nephew tugged on the leg of his trousers. "Uncle," he said quietly. "When will he be here?"

"Soon." Bilbo responded, leaning against the fence that stood some feet from Bag-end. "He promised he would return before sundown. You may go inside to wait if you wish."

Frodo shook his head. "No, I can wait." He said determinedly.

The hobbit smiled down at his kin, ruffling his hair affectionately.

Three years.

It had taken another three years to stabilize Moria, and some months more for Thorin to find an excuse to come and see him, if only for a short holiday. Bilbo received the news via a Raven that pecked at his window persistently before he came outside. He had nearly dropped the paper it had been written on, and immediately ran to find Frodo, who at that hour was still sleeping.

"Thorin is coming," He had said softly, poking his nephew's side. The blue eyed toddler sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Thorin?"

"Yes, yes, the one that I told you stories about." Bilbo hurried on. "The king under the mountain."

Frodo yawned. "That's nice." He said. "Can I go back to sleep?"

The older of the two laughed and nodded, still buzzing at the thought of seeing the king again, even if it would take him a few months to arrive.

It had been eight years since his adventure with the company, and by that time his hair was just starting to grey, and the wrinkles on his face became deeper. He was nearly sixty now, though by hobbit standards, had hardly aged.

It had been so long since they'd last met. He stopped and took a breath, shoving both hands in their pockets. He had to remind himself repeatedly that this was only a small visit, three days at most. His heart sank a little more each time he did. Would there ever be a time when he and Thorin could truly settle down and be together? Were they doomed to remain as they were, being distant lovers?

Frodo tugged at his trousers again. "Bilbo," he asked softly, and then pointing down the street with a pudgy hand he asked, "Is that him?"

His breath caught.

Thorin ambled slowly down the path to Bag-end, appearing to have not yet noticed the two hobbit's waiting at it's gate. He'd greyed significantly, and he too possessed more wrinkles than before. His time in Moria must have been trying indeed.

A small bag was laced over his chest and rested on his back, a sword was sheathed at his waist, and his hands were empty, though he soon held them out as an excited Frodo came barreling towards him. Though the dwarf seemed confused by the child, he accepted the embrace, lifting Frodo up to rest on his hip.

Bilbo could see them discussing something, and Frodo nodded, pointing towards Bag-end. Thorin followed his hand and with a small smile their eyes met.

"That's my nephew, Frodo." Bilbo explained as Thorin neared. "I'll be looking after him for some time."

"He's lively," Thorin commented, smiling as the young hobbit grinned at him widely. The king placed him gently to the ground, and Frodo looked up at Bilbo.

"This is him?" he asked. Bilbo laughed.

"I would hope so, because otherwise you just attacked a complete stranger!"

The hobbit's brow furrowed, and his uncle shifted.

"Why don't you run inside and get the drawing's you've been working on. I'm sure Thorin would love to see them."

Frodo nodded, and bolted up the stairs and through the green door. Bilbo turned back to Thorin.

"So," he began, "You've made it back I see, and in one piece at that."

"For the most part, yes." Thorin said, "Though I have quite a few scars to show for it."

"Moria is safe?" Bilbo asked, and the king nodded.

"We've driven out all that moved. At the moment we're working on restoration. Soon dwarves may begin to move back."

The hobbit smiled up at him. "I'm glad," he said.

A few moments of silence passed, awkward ones at that, in which each studied the other.

"I'm-" Bilbo paused, swallowing before his voice could croak. "I'm glad you're alright. I was worried."

It was before he could blink, before another word could even leave his mouth that Thorin wrapped his arms around the hobbit, pulling him close.

"I missed you, Bilbo."

He laughed into Thorin's shoulder, blinking back the tears in his eyes.

"Well," he said, "You're back."

A/N

Here's the alternate ending! It was short, but I feel like you guys might have had your fill of domestic fluff. I hope you enjoyed it! Though- I don't know what effect Moria being intact would have on the War of the Ring- so that's gonna bother me for a while.

Also, I'm laughing because of the most recent comment. Not sure if it was a flame or a troll, but thank you my good person, this fic is in fact gay, and a very gay one at that.

Thank you all for reading!

Quiteokayish