waqaychay (waqaychay) wrote,
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Jeeves and Wooster in Love, Part 5

Jeeves in Control

Author: waqaychay
Pairing: jeeves/wooster, of course
Rating: nc-17, but just barely
Warning: none
Summary: Tuppy goes and makes Bertie think, which messes up Jeeves's plan for that new bed.
Disclaimer: Not mine, and no offense meant to Hugh Laurie, Stephen Fry, or P.G. Wodehouse.
A/N: Thank you, as always, to my lovely beta crowson75. Without her, I'd still have no idea where the hell Wembley is. ;) Also, you may notice that I've used the phrase "underpants Charleston." This, of course, is not my own, so thank you to Bernard Black, as well. This takes place after Jeeves in Love, Jeeves in the Driver's Seat, and Jeeves in the Bath, and Jeeves in Bed.



You may notice, as you flip through the last few chapters of this love story of ours -- Jeeves's and mine, I mean, not mine and yours, obviously -- that the two of us became rather, well, let's say 'amorous' after we came to our gentlemen's agreement. Tuppy Glossop might say we 'shagged like rabid bunny rabbits', but that's Tuppy for you. No tact, that's his problem. But the fact remains that Jeeves and I had consummated our union an amazing six times in a day and half, a record in my book. The previous record had been four times in two days, 'consummated' by myself during stolen moments in a train lavatory. Because the train had been overbooked, Jeeves and I had been forced to share rather cramped accommodations, which had the little Wooster in a bally uncomfortable state for the majority of the trip. Being close enough to smell Jeeves's woodsy cologne does it to the little fellow every time.

Which brings us back to six times in thirty-six hours. Well, five and a half. I am ashamed to admit that Jeeves gave me a second dashed good o. in our bed, with fingers in new and unusual places, and I repaid him, blast it, by promptly falling asleep before I could return the favor. Hardly gentlemanly of me, I'm afraid, but as they say, the spirit was willing but the whatsit was weak.

Jeeves, being Jeeves, however, is a forgiving sort of chap. He let me sleep until the late afternoon, when he woke me with a kiss and a large glass of orange juice. I don't know how Jeeves knew I would be, but I was dashed thirsty. He bathed me, dressed me, and sent me off to the Drones for dinner.

It was good to be back at the club. Good to be back in the old metrop at all, really. The country has its advantages, a lack of complaining neighbors being at the top of the list, but London is home.

"Bertie!"

I looked up from a really excellent roast duck to see the previously mentioned Tuppy Glossop smiling with the light of a Soul's Awakening in his eyes. "Tuppy! You must be in love. Won't you join me?"

"How do you know I'm in love?" Tuppy asked as he sat and tucked in to his own r. d. once it was placed before him.

"I can see it in your eyes, my good man. Who is she this time? I assume it's not my dear cousin Angela."

"Angela. Hmph. Don't talk to me about Angela, Bertie. We're through, just because I told her that her new shoes made her feet look like crocodiles."

As I said, no tact, what?

"Anyway, I've met a girl, a cook. Oh, she's wonderful, Bertie! Sweet and sensitive and she makes the most incredible lamb you have ever eaten. Her mint sauce just dances on the tongue! And her steak and kidney pie is the best in the country! I'm going to ask her to marry me."

"I say!"

"Only there's a hitch."

"Absolutely not."

"But, Bertie, I haven't even told you the problem yet!"

"And you don't have to. You know me, Tuppy, old friend, I'm only too happy to help two lovebirds fly to the altar, even if those birds are you and some random cook."

"Oi!"

"But you've caught me at a bad time. I've my own love affair to look after just now."

"Bertie, you don't say!"

"I do say."

"Well, well. Now that you mention it, there is a kind of funny look in your eye."

"Is there? Well, quite."

"Tell me, what fair maiden has finally caught the heart of the elusive Bertram Wooster?"

The question gave pause. I certainly didn't want to tell Tuppy that I had been getting fruity with my valet, former or otherwise. Not that Tuppy would care if I were indulging with the staff. No, old Tuppy doesn't care about much that doesn't come with its own cream sauce. It was Jeeves's maleness that was the sticking part, though it happened to be the part I favored most. That sort of thing wasn't generally approved of, cream sauce or no.

"Oh, one doesn't like to name names."

"Well, what does Jeeves make of it then?"

"Jeeves? Oh, he's absolutely bucked. Over the moon. Completely oojah-cum-spiff."

Tuppy sat back in his chair and gave me a rummy look. After a thoughtful pause in which he sucked the last bit of duck from between his teeth, he uttered a sentence that would have had me on my knees if not for the chair in which I was sitting. As it was, a decided slump fell upon the Wooster shoulders. "Bertie, there's only one way Jeeves would be bucked that you were having a love affair, and that's if you were having the affair with him."

"My good chap!" I exclaimed reproachfully.

"Oh, it's no good saying 'my good chap' to me, Bertram Wooster. I know Jeeves and I know you. The only person in the world you'd willingly commit to is that valet of yours."

The rosy hue upon my cheeks was answer enough.

"But I thought he was working for Chuffy now. Rumor had it you had parted ways."

"He's back," I said, smug smile firmly in place. "We are reunited and all is forgiven."

"Well. Well, well, well. I never thought I'd see the day."

"And what day is that, Tuppy?"

"The day Jeeves finally got the noose around your neck. Has he roped you into his bed yet?"

"Good Lord!" The rosy hue turned scarlet.

"That's a yes then."

The conversation was taking a most uncomfortable turn. "Not that it's any business of yours," I snapped frostily, "it was actually my bed."

Tuppy sniggered. "You're right. It's not any of business. Nor should I like to hear the details."

"But you don't mind, do you, old chum?"

"Mind? Why should I mind?"

"Well." I frowned and lowered my voice. "The activity isn't exactly encouraged. Those who practice it are often shunned, from what I understand, or worse. We'd probably be given two years hard labor if the wrong person were to find us mid-embrace." I glared at him meaningfully.

Tuppy waved away my concern. "Never fear, Bertie. Your secret is safe with me, and I couldn't care less with whom you choose to do the underpants Charleston."

"Thanks awfully."

"So Jeeves, eh? I suppose if you're bent that way, you can do no finer. Excellent chap, Jeeves is. One of the best."

"I thought so."

"But there's no help for you now, Wooster."

"Oh?"

"Jeeves will have complete run of you. There will be no stopping him. You're in for it."

"What rot is this you're talking? You're not making any sense. Babbling, old thing."

"Oh, am I? You told me how pipped he was over those purple socks of yours, Bertie. And how he wouldn't help you out of that fiasco last summer after you bought that orange tie. Just imagine what it will be like now that the two of you are entangled. He'll have you trained like a lapdog."

Suddenly, in my head, I had the image of Jeeves refusing to kiss me unless I performed a clever trick at his direction. It was not a pleasant sight. The roasted duck in my stomach attempted to make a triumphant return to the plate. "Tuppy, you are an ass," I said in a rather queasy voice.

"Am I? Well, you'll see, Bertie. Jeeves is a remarkable fellow, but he does like to have his own way. Why did he leave you, anyway?"

I swallowed a blasted huge lump in my throat and said, "He disliked my trombone playing."

Tuppy smiled sadly in a way that clearly said 'There you go, old bean. It's been nice knowing you. When you go crawling back home, give Jeeves my regard, if he lets you, that is.' Tuppy stood and threw his napkin on the table. "I'm off. If you are unwilling to help me in my hour of need, I must find Barmy. He's the next biggest chump I know and always willing to help a friend. I'd congratulate you, Bertie, on your good taste, but I think I had better wish you luck instead. You'll need it." And off he went.

Now I know a great load of tosh when I hear it, and this wasn't it. There was something in what Tuppy said. Jeeves, paragon of a man that he was, did have a tendency to kick if confronted with something that didn't quite meet up to his required standard. Not that he would ever stoop to put up a fuss. Oh, no, Jeeves's brand of displeasure was much quieter and infinitely more polite. Something as innocent as a gaily-colored tie could have the man doing a stuffed frog impersonation that could put the amphibian exhibition at London's Natural History Museum to shame. And that was before we declared our softer feelings and shucked the clothing. Before me, I could see years and years of bending to Jeeves's every whim under the threat of withheld affection and phrases like "It would hardly be my place, sir, to put my hand there." The very idea prickled. That kind of thing ought to be nipped in the bud while the nipping is good.

Whenever I found myself confused or in an undesirable situation, my motto was always "Leave it to Jeeves." However, with Jeeves himself now being the cause of the confusion and u. s., I was at a loss. What did one do without a Jeeves to rally round and put the young master's troubles at ease with a stiff restorative and an "I have already thought of something, sir"? I shuddered to think of Bertram Wooster in that posish.

A few minutes' rumination failed to deliver any solutions to the problems of what to do with Jeeves and what to do without him. There was only one thing to do. Leave it to Jeeves.

"Jeeves," I said as I came through flat door and handed over hat, gloves, and whangee to the man. "I have been thinking."

"Yes, sir?" Jeeves said with a lift in one eyebrow.

"Yes. I have been thinking."

"Very well, sir." He closed the door behind me firmly and then bent to place a kiss on my cheek. The feel of those lips on the Wooster skin nearly drove all other thoughts from the old bean, but I gulped a deep breath and persevered.

"Would you like to know what I have been thinking, Jeeves? No, wait. Don't answer that, as I will tell you, whether you want to or not."

"Very well, Bertie."

"I was thinking, old thing, that I have a corker of a problem and, for the first time, you may be unable to solve it."

Jeeves froze like a thing that freezes, still holding whangee and gloves in one hand. "Oh?"

"That's right."

"I assure you that I would give the matter my fullest attention until a satisfactory resolution is found."

"I have no doubt you would, Jeeves, my dear chap. However, you would come up empty, I assure you. Would you care to know why?"

"Very much so."

"Because," I said, walking away from the man into the living room. "Because, Jeeves, the problem is you."

A loud clatter behind me indicated that the whangee had fallen to the floor. I turned to find Jeeves looking more wounded than I had ever seen him look. His damask cheek was paler than usual and his mouth hung open slightly, a sure sign of his absolute shock. For a brief second, I felt dearly for the chap and almost opened the lips to say "But never mind all that. Let's retire to the bedroom, what?" But then I remembered I had bud-nipping to do.

Those immensely kissable lips snapped closed and Jeeves's composure returned, only a slight greenish tint around his eyes betraying how ruffled the man really was. "I apologize, sir, if my performance has been anything but satisfactory."

I waved away his apology. "Your performance, Jeeves, has been exceptional, as you well know. The young Wooster is putty in your competent hands. And therein lies the problem."

A slight frown turned the corners of Jeeves's perfect mouth downward. "I'm afraid I do not understand, sir."

"There are times, Jeeves, when one doesn't want to be putty."

I lounged on the sofa and fixed the man with a Look that would have quelled even my Aunt Dahlia. Well, possibly not, but it would have given her a nasty jar before she reached for some objet d'art to chuck at my head.

"I don't suppose you've noticed, but you have a rather specific way of registering scorn and displeasure, until the young Wooster caves and brings back a sense of bonhomme to the household. Have you noticed, Jeeves?"

The frown on Jeeves's face deepened and his back stiffened. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, sir."

"Aha!" I cried and rose from the couch with accusing finger extended in his direction. "That's the wheeze right there!"

"Sir?"

"That damned stuffed frog routine of yours. You get very polite when you're angry or aren't given your head, Jeeves. You get cold. You pout, my man."

Calmly, Jeeves bent at the waist and retrieved the fallen whangee then turned to restore it and the gloves to their respective proper places. Once everything was tidied away, Jeeves gave a slight bow and an "If that will be all, sir," and biffed off to his lair. I followed him and caught the door before he could close it.

"Blast it, Jeeves, that is bally well not all!"

"Indeed, sir?"

"Indeed, my giddy aunt! This shall stop today, Jeeves. I say, what are you doing?"

Jeeves had pulled out a smallish suitcase from beneath his bed and was opening it.

"I am packing, sir."

"Oh, now that is the very limit! This is exactly what I was talking about, Jeeves. I love you most frightfully, but am I to live in fear of you leaving me? Am I to consult you before every word spoken or raiment purchased? We are two men of iron will, Jeeves, but one of us must eventually bend, and that one cannot always be me."

Jeeves continued to pack, blast him.

"I mean to say, Jeeves, what if, at some point in the future, we find ourselves at an impasse over, say, a gaily patterned waistcoat? Is the young Wooster to roll over and play dead in order to get a rub on the tum in reward? I think not! Tummy rubs are a must, Jeeves. Gaily colored socks or no. I insist."

Jeeves paused in the middle of slipping some pajamas into the suitcase. Very slowly, he turned to me and folded his hands in front of him. "Am I to understand, sir," he said in a soupy, frozen sort of voice, "that the problem to which you previously referred is that you suspect I would withhold affection, or even leave your side, if we were to have a disagreement in order to assure your capitulation?"

"You've done it before." And I meant it to sting.

By the look on Jeeves's face, I knew I had scored. The man went back to his packing.

"Dash it, Jeeves! Stop packing."

"Sir?"

"Don't 'sir' me, Jeeves. Not right now."

"Very well. Bertie?"

"Yes, Jeeves?"

Jeeves coughed politely into one hand. "You wish me to cease my packing?"

"Oh, right! Yes, yes, I do. No more packing, Jeeves. No more packing for a very long time, if ever again. Your packing days are through."

"That will make departing for the ship tomorrow difficult, Bertie."

"I don't bloody well care if it makes-- I say, what?"

"Our ship for France leaves tomorrow at six in the evening. Without properly packed luggage, I fear we will be unprepared for the journey."

Well, you could have knocked me over with an f.

"You don't mean.... You're not leaving me, then, Jeeves?"

It had taken me some time to recognize all the facial expressions of one Reginald Jeeves. The man is a stoic; a single arched eyebrow can convey anything from mild annoyance to keen interest. By this time, I fancied myself somewhat of an expert on Jeevesian f. e. But the downward tilt of lips and averted eyes he gave me now were new to me. I gawped as Jeeves fidgeted -- fidgeted! Jeeves never fidgets -- and blushed.

"No, Bertie, I am not leaving you."

Well, that was a relief.

"In fact," he continued, his back going even straighter and his shoulders impossibly squarer. "I do believe I have found a solution to your problem. I must apologize to you and assure you it will never happen again."

"You mean you won't leave me again? Or refuse my bed, no matter what I wear?"

Jeeves's eyes closed briefly, and it suddenly hit me like a bolt out of the blue. Jeeves was embarrassed. "No," he murmured, then made a rather obvious struggle to meet my baby blues with his own. "I give you my word, Bertram Wooster. I would never refuse your bed or your touch, or refuse you any intimacy, over such a trivial matter. If the truth be known, I do not believe I could now do so over any matter. To do so would wound me far greater than any situation could ever warrant."

Here, the softer emotions overcame me. The heart swelled, the eyes misted, and the body ached for Jeeves's strong arms. For the first time in my life, I could understand why one would want to call their beloved a specific dream rabbit. "Reggie," I croaked, "you are a specific dream rabbit."

Jeeves looked slightly puzzled and opened his mouth, probably to enquire why I was suddenly spouting rot soppy enough to rival Madeline Bassett's speech as to why the stars are God's daisy chain. I waved away his question in a gesture meant to be airy but which probably only achieved epileptic.

"I just mean that I love you, Reggie, and that all is forgiven."

And then I rather launched the Wooster frame at him.

I was stripped to the waist and working on Jeeves's trouser buttons when the bit he said about the ship came back to me. "Jeeves," I gasped against his delicious lips. "You said... ship... tomorrow?"

"Six o'clock," he answered me and then swooped down to take a nipple between his talented teeth. A sharp tug weakened the knees and had me clinging to broad shoulders to stay upright. "Tomorrow evening. Plenty of time," he assured my breastbone.

"Ah! Plenty of time for what?"

Jeeves scooped me up into those s. a. I had so ached for and legged it for the master bedroom. In about three seconds, he deposited me upon a bed large enough for two adult elephants and a gazelle or two besides.

"Jeeves!" I exclaimed. "Is this the new bed?"

"I hope it meets with your approval."

I bounced a few times on the new mattress while Jeeves watched intensely. True to Jeeves's word, the bedclothes were a blue that matched my eyes. It certainly met with the Wooster approval.

"It's wonderful, Jeeves! Really rather spiffy." I threw my arms wide and failed to touch either side of the magnificent bed. I looked up at Jeeves and raised an eyebrow at him. "Could get quite lonely, though, I imagine, with only myself rolling around on these--"

Before I had finished the observation, the man landed on my chest and began applying lips to skin. "Bertie, Bertie," he murmured between kisses and gentle nips.

I sighed and then exclaimed rather loudly when Jeeves slid a hand down my pants. "Oh, yes! Please, touch me, Reggie!"

Never before had the man carried out a request so swiftly and efficiently. Jeeves seemed to grow an extra hand or two, running these newfound body parts over my own. He stroked my belly, squeezed my rump, pinched my nipple, and divested me of my trousers all at the same time. Soon, he had me quite naked and nearly purring under his expert touch.

"Reggie," I gasped as the man licked my lower belly. In the course of undressing me, Jeeves had only managed to lose his own jacket and trousers. My hands clutched at the cloth covering his shoulders, and I had never before felt such dislike towards a piece of fabric. "Get out of these blasted clothes, man!" It hardly seemed sporting that I was on display for God and Jeeves to see, whilst the beauty that is my lover's form remained hidden from my eyes.

Groaning, Jeeves tore himself away from me and reared up onto his knees. Frantically, he undid shirt buttons while I writhed under his intense eyes and counted the seconds until he was touching me again. Once his shirt hung open, he moved on to pushing his pants down to mid-thigh and fell on me once more.

"I'm sorry, sir," he gasped into my neck. "I was going to make love to you properly, but now....” He trailed off and began arranging the Wooster limbs to his liking. I soon found myself flipped over and raised to my knees. I braced against the giant headboard of the giant bed, with Jeeves covering my back like a giant warm blanket. "I can't wait, Bertie, I'm sorry," he gasped again and shoved his sex between my thighs.

Jeeves had shown me many ways of making love, but this was new to me. Jeeves's massive prick was thrusting between my legs in a way that I wasn't quite sure could be pleasurable. "Jeeves?" I asked. "What do I do?"

The man's hands tightened their hold on my waist. "Just hold me tightly, sir," he panted into my nape. "Push your legs together. Like this." And Jeeves's strong hands pushed against my legs, closing them tighter around his flesh. "Oh, yes, sir!" he exclaimed and began to thrust harder against me, his shirttails brushing my sides with every lunge.

It became quite a trick to keep myself upright. My braced hands became sweaty and slipped on the polished wood, and Jeeves's hips slammed me forward slightly with every mighty thrust. I squeezed my legs together around the hard prick and desperately wished to feel Jeeves come undone against me.

I didn't have long to wait, as it turned out. Jeeves gave a particularly rough push and buried his face between my shoulder blades. A deep groan erupted out of him, along with what felt like a gallon of slippery wetness. I held us both up as Jeeves huffed and puffed and shuddered through his peak, gasping out the occasional word of love.

When it was over and Jeeves was shaking against me like a kitten in a storm, I found myself rather overcome. "Oh, Jeeves, you dear man," I said. If a tear born of the love swelling in my breast slipped down the Wooster face, well, what of it?

After a long moment of recovery, Jeeves very gently detached my hands from their hold on the headboard and lowered us both until I was sitting in his lap, my head resting against his shoulder. He was sweaty and hot against me and nuzzled my hair in the most awfully pleasant way. His talented fingers roamed freely until they found the mess on my legs and began to rub the fluid into my skin.

Jeeves's voice was rough with spent passion when he began whispering in my ear. "I'm sorry, sir. I was too impatient. I had wanted to christen our bed with something special, but I fear that, after your absence this afternoon and the unpleasantness of a few minutes ago, I found my desire for you to be somewhat urgent."

"No fear, Reggie," I assured him. "I found the experience.... Jeeves, I have no words for how I found the experience."

"I hope it was enjoyable, sir."

"Quite so. Is there a word for more than enjoyable? Say, ten times more than enjoyable?"

"Perhaps euphoric, sir?"

"Ah, yes, that will do nicely."

Jeeves's hands roamed upward and stroked the little Wooster. "I could make that orgasmic for you, sir," he said ardently against my throat.

I turned the old bean to catch his positively delish lips with my own. A dashed good kiss was interrupted a short time later by a jaw-cracking yawn from yours truly. "Perhaps, Jeeves," I said then yawned again. "Or perhaps not. Could we maybe just lie down for a bit? I'm feeling not a little exhausted."

"If you're sure, sir, though I shouldn't like to leave you wanting." Jeeves's tone made it a question.

"Quite sure, lover-of-mine. I really just want to hold you for a while. To feel you near me, you understand. Consider us even, as I owed you from this afternoon."

Jeeves chuckled quietly. "I was not keeping score, sir." He pressed his lips to my cheek briefly and I could feel the smile on his face.

A thought struck me. "About that ship, Jeeves. How did you book passage so quickly?"

"The Captain owed me a favor. I telephoned this afternoon and, luckily, he was able to accommodate us with a luxury cabin. The timing of the ship's departure is only a fortuitous coincidence."

"Fortuitous, Jeeves?"

"Yes, sir. Not two moments after ending the conversation with the Captain, Mrs. Gregson telephoned."

"Aunt Agatha!" I bolted upright, and Jeeves was forced to pull me back into his arms and settle my suddenly jangled nerves with a few deep kisses. Eventually, I was soothed enough to hear what the old nephew-crusher wanted with poor Bertram.

"She wished to speak with you regarding Miss Stoker. Word had reached her that there may have been some impropriety during our recent sojourn to the country, and she expressed her wish for you to marry as soon as possible, in order to avoid further scandal."

"Good heavens!"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, she'll be hard pressed to find me in France, what? Fortuitous timing, indeed."

"Yes, sir. Shall we retire to bed now, sir?"

Loath as I was to leave the man's embrace, I peeled myself from him and pulled back the duvet. After he finally divested himself of his remaining clothing, we settled down in the new bed. I lay on my side and Jeeves curled around my back rather, as I would imagine, like spoons might sit if you laid one atop another. He threw one perfect arm around my waist and I brought it to my chest to rest his hand over my heart. I might have wept for happiness if I wasn't so busy yawning once more.

As the Wooster eyelids began to droop, I contemplated what Jeeves had called 'the unpleasantness'. It was a great relief to know that Jeeves would never leave me again. I shuddered to think of what my life would have been without him. I'd probably be married to Madeline Bassett and have the world's loneliest bed. Not to mention the world's loneliest heart.

"Jeeves?" I said sleepily.

"Yes, Bertie?"

"I'm sorry we fought before. I don't care if I must always give in to you. It's worth being putty if I'm to be putty in your hands. I'll wear and do whatever you like, as long as you stay with me."

Jeeves squeezed me tightly around the middle. "No, Bertie, that won't be necessary. In the future, we will find a mutually acceptable compromise to any disagreement between us."

I patted his hand clumsily and let the eyelids fall shut. "You know best, Jeeves."

He buried his nose in my hair said quietly, "Not always, sir."


Tags: jooster, my fic
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  • (no subject)

    Title: Lovers of the Night, Part 3 Rating: NC-17 Disclaimer: The boys don't belong to me, not even in vamp form. Summary: Jeeves attempts to teach…

  • (no subject)

    Title: Lovers of the Night, Part 2 Rating: light R Warnings: for some squicky bodily fluids at the beginning, but it's quick Summary: The events…

  • Happy Valentine's Day, snakewhissperer!

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