Chapter Text
Legolas gulped sharply, eyes wide.
He liked to think that he was generally very hard to catch of guard. A lot of the kids had tried to scare him after Rosie noticed he was the only one not jumping a feet into the air after some prank (most certainly pulled by Merry and Pippin, but with this one they couldn't prove it was them) involving a very sudden and very loud stereo. But Legolas wasn't shocked that easily. He could take most things with a poker face.
Only, he just so happened to not be able to take this particular situation very subtly.
Gimli was standing just a few metres away from him, chopping up some wood for tonight's fire with one of his old axes.
Fucking shirtless.
Feeling all the blood rush to his face in a sudden wave, Legolas managed to stumble backwards to hide behind the wall he'd just rounded. Leaning against it, he pushed one hand to his forehead in an attempt to ground himself.
Because bloody heck. He knew, he knew! He was so well aware that Gimli was thick. He'd seen Gimli lift heavy objects before, and he knew a lot of strength was needed to swing a heavy ax around like that.
More than that, Legolas had picked the dwarf up before just to annoy him. He'd been heavy and partly soft as was expected, he would have had to be stupid not to have known Gimli was both chubby and ripped.
But- But it was another thing to actually get the proof right there in front of his eyes! With! No! SHIRT!
He also could have guessed that Gimli would have such a hairy chest, because he'd seen his arms and face. The thick hair had been visible against his dark skin even from the great distance, and there was a lot of it. Legolas quickly shut down the thought that he'd want nothing more than to run his fingers through it and see if it was soft, if the chest was warm beneath it.
Legolas never would have believed he'd think body hair as attractive, having always been expected to find attraction to only other elves. That was before Gimli had casually pushed up the sleeves of his button up shirt right in front of him, revealing a very enticing underarm. And this was a problem. This was a big, big problem.
Covering his burning face with his hands, Legolas hit his head against the wooden wall behind him, at least having the common sense not to do it too loudly.
But it wasn't entirely his fault, was it?! What was Gimli even doing running around half naked?
Elves were generally far less prude than other races, especially than dwarfs, so it wasn't as if he hadn't seen the chests of men before. But elves were so different! They were all tall and lean and hairless and by Mandos, the heat in his face just wouldn't subside!
He decided it was the shock of seeing a body type he hadn't before, that must have been the only reason he was acting like a love struck elfling. Besides, he'd been caught of guard! Sure, it was secluded enough, but anyone could have gotten a panic attack at a situation like this, right?
Legolas used to think he was too refined to ever appreciate a sweaty, hairy man like that. He'd been raised in a pristine household, mansion most would call it. His dad would always look picture perfect, as would their wealthy guests (most often business partners) and the expensive private tutors he'd grown up with. Even as a kid Legolas wasn't allowed to look a mess, so of course it was what he'd grown to expect from those around him.
He remembers his first summer working here, which coincidentally was Gimli's first as well. The first night, and the dwarf had had a burping competition with Boromir and Aragorn. Legolas had been utterly revolted, frankly wondering just what he'd gotten himself into with this job, before excusing himself to the restroom.
Gimli had been none of the things Legolas had spent his life considering beautiful. He wasn't elegant or tall or graceful.
No, Gimli's hair was so thick and unkempt, his chest apparently very hairy and his movements quick and sometimes brute.
And he would sometimes look a mess? He'd get in with his shirt all pushed up and wrinkled, his hair windswept and his forehead sweaty from labor. And Legolas found soon enough, that when Gimli looked a mess, he looked hot.
Which was the entirety of the problem!
But Legolas knew that of course he couldn't just gawk at Gimli, no no.
Which was why he did the only sensible thing and hightailed out of there, completely forgetting that he was supposed to help Gimli with cleaving the wood.