Chapter Text
| Entry tags: | fic, jeeves |
Fic: Jeeves and the Lessons on Love (Part 3)
I sat in bed and smoked what must have been about twenty-five of my Turkish cigs. I did a lot of staring out of windows and pacing the floor while puffing away like a bellows. It's conducive to thinking, the puffing, staring, and pacing, I mean. Hours passed, and I was curled up on my bed, having not even bothered pulling back the bedclothes. My last cig. was being stubbed when Jeeves entered. He didn't knock; he never does; but his glide wasn't as quick or assured as it might have been.
"Dinner is nearly ready, sir," he said.
I glanced at the window and was surprised to find that the sun had set sometime in my brooding. "I'm sorry, Jeeves. I should have mentioned I'm not very hungry. Hope you didn't go through too much trouble."
"No, sir. Very good, sir." And he moved to leave.
I stopped him with a low, "Jeeves."
"Yes, sir?"
"I would like you to book passage to New York. The very next ship, if possible."
"Certainly, sir. How long do you imagine our sojourn will last, sir?" He took his little pencil and notebook from his inner suit coat pocket, ready to mark down all the essential tasks that need doing when the young master leaves the homeland.
"Indefinitely, Jeeves," I said, reaching for my cigarette case. "And it won't be our sojourn. I'm going alone."
Jeeves' pencil stopped its scratching on the paper. One ebony eyebrow levered itself in my direction. "Alone, sir?"
"Yes." I sat up and pulled myself to the edge of the mattress with great effort. My muscles and bones creaked at the movement. "I don't know how else to put this, Jeeves, so I'll put it to you plainly. I've been thinking how things will be between us," I searched my pockets for my lighter, "now that you know everything that I—"
"Sir—" Jeeves protested.
"Jeeves, I do wish you'd let me speak!" I snapped. Jeeves' mouth shut obligingly. I gave up the chase for my lighter in my pockets and turned instead to the night table, where many things sat waiting to be knocked over in my quest to find the bally thing. I continued talking as I knocked said things about. "I've been thinking especially of the time you left my employ because you couldn't stand me anymore." I found the silver lighter underneath a face-down paperback and grabbed it. "Every time I do something you don't like, there is that unspoken threat that hangs in the air: that you can always leave."
"No, sir—" Jeeves tried again.
"Jeeves." My lighter flashed bright for a moment, and then dimmed as I lit my cigarette. I puffed once and said, "Let me finish. You can always leave; we both know that. But in this case, you will not leave."
"That is true, sir." Jeeves crossed over to the standing lamp and switched it on, casting a bit more light in the gloom. "I will not. The blame for these unfortunate circumstances does not rest on your shoulders alone. I would be loathe to give my notice over such a misunderstanding."
I gave a dry chuckle. "You just can't let me say what I need to say, can you, Jeeves? Will you be inserting your commentary during every breath I take?"
Strangely chastened, Jeeves bowed his head. "My apologies, sir. Pray, continue."
I took another long drag and regarded the weave of the carpet below my feet. "The crux of the matter, if crux is the word I want, is that I don't foresee my love for you diminishing at any future point." I could see Jeeves' stuffed frog facade was positively straining to get a word in edgewise. "I know what you mean to say, Jeeves. You think I'm foolish, young, naive, completely mistaken about the depth and nature of my feelings." His eyebrow told me I was correct. I shrugged. "I can only say you're wrong about that. And I suppose the only proof I can offer of that fact is that I—" I paused. Swallowed. Smoked a little more. Took a deep breath, then continued. "I cannot remain here with you, in this house, seeing you every day, and acting as if nothing's changed. I cannot live in such close quarters with you, so near to you and yet completely forbidden from showing you any gesture of affection. I wish I were a stronger man. If I could bury my heart and carry on, I would, because I know this is awfully unfair to you. But I can't live in this abject misery. I just can't."
I crushed my cig. in its tray along with its dead brothers and held my head in my hands. After a moment or two, Jeeves cleared his throat. Without looking up, I said, "Go ahead, Jeeves. I know you must have a lot to say."
When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble like thunder. "And what shall become of me, sir, if you go to America and never return?"
"You'll secure a new position in the blink of an eye, Jeeves. You'll have no troubles."
From the crease on his brows, I could tell Jeeves did not agree. "If my presence disturbs you, sir, I could take my annual vacation early. Two weeks of separation may shed some new light on your situation. Or I could keep my presence in the household to a minimum for a time, until you—"
I stopped him with a gesture. "No, Jeeves. I hate that it's come to this, but it's the only way as far as I can see. Prolonging the inevitable would be a terrible ordeal." I looked up at him, studying the lines of his face, pinched in anguish. "Please don't think I'm doing this to, well, punish you, Jeeves. I'll write you a glowing recommendation, of course." And I went back to staring morosely at the carpet.
Jeeves floated silently over to the bed and knelt, taking my hands in his as fast as a rabbit. His fingers clenched almost brutally. "Do you honestly think that is my greatest concern, sir?" he asked.
"No." I looked down at him with a stunned sort of expression. I slid my hands from his grasp and whispered, "And please don't think this is my way of blackmailing you into changing your mind. You don't need this job that badly."
With a pained look, Jeeves rose and turned to leave.
"The next ship to New York will leave in three days, if I remember the schedule correctly," he said as he exited, and if his voice sounded rougher than normal, what of it? This turn of events wasn't easy for either of us (though I couldn't help but worry for him). With my heart ripping itself to pieces in my chest, I kicked off my shoes and crawled into bed fully clothed.
The next morning I popped out of bed, dressed myself in a tidy suit, and strolled round the metrop. preparing myself and my estate for the long stay in America with a stiff upper lip . . . is what I wish I could tell you happened. In reality, this Wooster spent the next twenty-four hours in the hazy twilight of half-sleep, wrapped up in my bedclothes and not rousing for any meals or even a cup of tea. Jeeves may have come into the bedroom to coax me to drink some, but I vaguely recall waving him away.
The entire day went by, and night fell again. I was roused from my quasi-sleep by a hand shaking my shoulder. I looked up through the dim light to see Jeeves standing over me. In his hands was a wad of brown paper and a green leather-bound book.
"Sir," Jeeves said in his quiet morning voice, "this was in the kitchen. I've been cataloguing your belongings for shipment. Did you require this volume? "
I sat up and rubbed the grit of sleep from my eyes. "No." My voice was like gravel and frogs, all rolled together. In my just awakened state, I said the truth before I could think better of it. "It was for you, Jeeves."
"I've already read your published stories, sir."
"I know. It was a silly gift." I made a grab for the book, but Jeeves lifted it out of reach. "Jeeves, really, you don't need to keep it. Give it here."
I held my hand out for it, but Jeeves did not follow my directive. Instead, he slowly opened the front cover.
"Jeeves!" I lunged forward, but he was too quick for me. I could see in his face that his eyes were already running over the hastily scribbled lines that I had written there not one day ago:
J.—
For you, what may very well be the longest love letter ever written.
BWW
"I see, sir," Jeeves said quietly.
I didn't see how he reacted to the sodding inscription, because I had already pressed my fingertips to my shut eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears from finally coming. I gave a small sniff, and the mattress dipped suddenly. Jeeves' solidity and warmth was right beside me, and that made my eyes leak all the more.
"I suppose you think me very stupid," I said as I wiped my sleeves across my face.
His arm, heavy and strong, slid round my shoulders, and I was pulled into Jeeves' barrel-like chest. His chin rested in my hair, and I could hear his heart beating steadily under my ear. "No, sir. I do not think that."
"Well, that's one of us, then," I muttered.
Jeeves clutched me tighter and whispered to the top of my head, "Sir, don't leave."
I shook my head, I shook all over. "I have to." Another tear fell and soaked into Jeeves' waistcoat. "What else can I do?" My hands scrabbled at his lapels, hanging on for dear life. "You can't love me."
His hands petted at my hair, down my spine, almost frantic in their movements. "You said you could teach me, sir. You said you would show me how to love," Jeeves murmured into my ear.
A hysterical laugh bubbled from my lips. "I don't think I can, Jeeves. You don't feel anything for me. I can't make you."
"That is not true. I—" Jeeves shook his head. "I feel this loss as keenly as a severed limb."
"Pah!" I pushed him away from me. "You can't have it both ways, Jeeves! Either you don't love me, or you do; it's actually quite simple!"
One couldn't help but feel skewered by Jeeves' shocked expression. His mouth didn't quite hang open, but you could tell by a certain thingummy in his visage that he was hurt. "It is anything but simple," he said in a low voice. "I am not like you, sir. I've never been naturally given to deep emotions. This—this situation with you has been the most confounding experience of my life."
"You haven't seemed confounded, Jeeves. You seem positively un-confounded, if that's even a word." I scratched my cheek in thought, but then decided it didn't matter. "You turned me down like a bedspread without batting an eye, I mean to say."
"I am sorry, sir. My reaction was sudden." He looked up at me, and I noticed his hair was mussed just the tiniest bit. One strand hung down in his eyes, and Jeeves brushed it away. "I've had cause to turn down many offers of romance in the past; one might even call my actions instinctual."
"Really, Jeeves?" I frowned. "Who?"
Jeeves gave me a look that said I should know better than to ask questions like that. "From several corners, sir. The women were always dispatched quickly, as I have no wish to marry. It would not suit me." He swallowed. "I always made certain to keep the company of men who had no interest in anything but that day, or that hour."
My hand found his amid the tangled bedclothes for a moment. "What would you have me do, Jeeves? Because I'm dashed if I know what you're saying."
His fingers curled round mind tightly. "I wish I could erase my rash actions. I wish the clocks could be turned back to before I kissed you. If only I could force that from both our memories, we could return to our comfortable life."
His hair was in his eyes again; I reached up and brushed it behind his ear. "You wish you could still be darning my socks and brewing my tea, with neither of us the wiser? You'd wish you'd never touched me, or held me? Because if that's the case, then I think it's obvious that I need to leave for New York as soon as I can."
"No, I—" Jeeves dropped his gaze from mine for a moment before looking back up at me. "I do not look back on those times with anything but fondness, sir. But if it had never happened, then I wouldn't be here now, trying to decide whether I should lose you now," he brought our joined hands to his lips and kissed my white knuckles, "or lose you in a week, a month, however long it takes for my unworthiness to show."
"Jeeves—"
"Because you will find me wholly unworthy, sir. I do not smile, I do not laugh, I will not dote on you as a lover should. Your heart is ten times what mine could ever be; yours has space enough for a thousand of me, and I am unsure if I can allow just the one of you." Jeeves pulled me by the arm, and I found myself pressed up against his chest once more, his lips whispering in my hair. "By all accounts, I should be encouraging you to flee to New York. But I shudder to think about my life without you in it, sir. I would not be myself without you here."
I brought my stiff arms around Jeeves' shoulders and clung to him, my eyes squeezing shut. "I love you just as you are," I said simply. "I don't want you even a shade different." I heard the gasp of surprise deep in Jeeves' chest, and he held me ever tighter. So tight that a tear or two was wrung from me, I dare say.
"Please don't go," Jeeves said, and though he would never quite sound like he was begging, there was a pleading note in his tone. "Allow me to try, sir. I will love you as best I can."
I admit it: I kissed him then. Perhaps I should have been worried and wondering about how serious Jeeves was about this, about how master and servant could possibly embark on such a thing without going mad, about a million things that needed worry and wonder. But all I knew was that Jeeves was there, and he wanted me in his own way, and that was enough for me. It had to be, what?
On my orders, Jeeves stayed in my bed with me that night. Nothing terribly exciting occurred, of course; after the night we'd had, we resembled human versions of wrung-out tea towels. However, once we were pajama-ed and ready for sleep, neither of us particularly wanted to part. So we slept side-by-side, curled together like two well-used utensils.
"Jeeves?" I murmured against his shoulder, still fighting off the curtain of Morpheus.
"Yes, sir?"
"Why is it spoons? They never call it forks." I wriggled beside him to illustrate what I meant.
"I imagine the hipbones so resemble the cup of a spoon that the appellation has stuck, sir."
"Ah, I see." A pause. "Jeeves?"
"Sir?"
"You smell wonderful."
"Thank you, sir." He sounded rather chuffed; I could hear it even in the dark. "May I say that I find your unique aroma to be pleasing as well?"
"You may. Goodnight, old thing."
"Goodnight," he said softly, "my own."
Well, I mean to say! This is the cove who swears he has not a romantic bone in his corpus! I fell asleep with what could only be the silliest grin in the world on my lips.
The next week was one of rapture for the young master. I formally agreed to forget New York for the moment, and Jeeves agreed (very formally) to employ all his powers of concentration on the problem of overcoming his cagey heart. He left it to Bertram how best to go about this, so just as I had trusted Jeeves to show me the ways of seduction, he relied on me to coax the love from his heart. I knew it was there; I was sure I caught glimpses of it when he watched me play a piece at the piano, or when I allowed him to light a gasper for me.
My idea for educating Jeeves in this loving business was simple. When my hand on his elbow turned from playful to tender, I didn't let him leave the room to recover his infamous mask. When I kissed him and told him how much I loved him, I didn't let his eyes stray to the ground. Most importantly, I pried into his thoughts in a way I never had before. Jeeves is the sort of cove who plays it close to the vest, to borrow a phrase from Rocky Todd. You get an inkling of what he must be thinking, but you never fully understand how or why or by what powers of deduction he arrived at it. And so I carefully pulled these bits of information from Jeeves' brain several times.
On one such occasion, I asked Jeeves, "Jeeves, why is it you detest me in bright, cheery colours? I know you're perhaps a tad older than me—"
"Eight and a half years older, sir."
"Oh? Is that all?"
"Yes. Sir."
"Oh, I didn't mean to give you the pip, Jeeves! I only meant you sometimes seem to have stepped out of the Victorian era. One might expect Sherlock Holmes to follow you into the room."
"I think not, sir. The gentleman, if I remember, was never very careful in matters sartorial."
"Be that as it may! Though you belong to the generation before mine, I don't understand why you hate the latest fashions so." I stretched on the chesterfield and gave him a bit of the baby blues. "Would you care to enlighten me, Jeeves?"
Jeeves hesitated, and I beckoned him to sit with me, which he eventually did. He thought a little, then said, "When I was a young boy, the middle son of the master of my house was one of those young gentlemen who were made into examples during the uproar of the Wilde affair." He looked over at me, his eyes strangely slick-looking. "I do not know if he was an invert or not; I only remember he was flamboyant in his dress."
"Golly." I swallowed. "That would put you off orange ties, what?"
"He killed himself before the matter was ever made public," Jeeves said with a shake of his head. "I know you find my tastes much too conservative, sir, but—"
I lifted a hand. "Say no more. Jeeves, from now on, if you see some spats or a hat in my wardrobe that causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end, just get rid of the offending article. No need to go to great lengths to convince me to allow you the liberty." And I sat up and wrapped my arms round his shocked and speechless frame.
Within a few seconds, my embrace was returned with aplomb, if that's the word I want. Jeeves even gifted me with a glimmer of a peek of a smile. Still, as I had for the last few weeks, I refrained from using the more physical expressions of love, as I knew it would be all too easy for Jeeves to label such activities mere dalliances. I wanted our understanding to be completely mutual before making love to Jeeves. Still, it was difficult. The memories of his mouth, his hands, and his body haunted me when we sat close on the chesterfield like that.
I pulled away with great reluctance. "It's getting rather late," I said, because it was. "My pajamas are calling, what?"
"Sir." Jeeves framed my face in his hands, making it rather difficult to look away. "I have never told that tale to anyone."
"I won't breathe a word of it, if that's what you're worried for."
"No, of course not." Jeeves tucked one of my more adventurous curls back behind my ear. "I do trust you, sir. A great deal. I would tell you whatever you asked."
"Really?" The words tumbled from my lips before I would stop them. "Then may I ask, do you miss kissing me, Jeeves?"
Jeeves' hands caressed down my jaw, then my throat, to press against my chest. "Most dreadfully," he answered.
I ran through my checklist in my mind: my hair had been combed, my suit wasn't overly wrinkled, my teeth hadn't been brushed since that morning but dinner had been onion- and garlic-free. I still smelled quite spiffing and my shoes weren't scuffed. Right!
I grabbed hold of one or two of Jeeves' ebony locks and kissed him in a bruising fashion. Perhaps I overdid the teeth and tongue, but absence makes the h. grow f. and all that; I found I couldn't kiss Jeeves with anything less than complete abandon. He didn't argue, to his credit. His hands fisted in my shirtfront and waistcoat, and I swore I could feel some of the stitching give way.
"Jeeves," I murmured as I placed small kisses along his neck, "can you feel what I feel when we're like this? Do you—that is—do you sense this is more than mere civility? That I'm not just giving you pleasure out of politeness or courtesy?" I pulled back to look him in the eye. "Do I feel any different from the other lovers you've had? Because as far as I can tell, no one else I've met has got a patch on you."
"Yes, sir. Certainly you are different." Jeeves was taking such deep, rapid breaths; I could feel his lungs panting in his chest, we were crushed so close together. "You possess a tenderness and a blithe disposition the likes of which I've never encountered." He nibbled my ear, even though he knows what that does to me. "You offer me comfort when you should be cursing me," he whispered down my neck. "I don't understand what I've done to deserve your love."
"Nonsense." I ran my fingers through his hair, smelling the sweet scent of the brilliantine he used. "I wish you could see yourself as I see you, Jeeves. Then you wouldn't wonder."
He pulled away suddenly, his hands balled into fists in his lap. "Sir, I—" He turned to me, then faced straight ahead again, then shifted on the cushions as if he couldn't decide where to sit.
"Jeeves, are you all right?"
"I would like to say—" He paused once more. "At this juncture, I believe it prudent to . . . no." Jeeves shook his head like a frustrated frog.
"Oh my Lord." I peered into Jeeves' face. "Are you at a loss for words, old thing?"
"It is proving difficult to form the proper sentences, sir," he said.
My heart stopped in my chest. Was this where Jeeves finally informed me that, try as he might, he could never love me the way I did him? My hands shook, and my vision clouded. "Maybe you should just say it and be done with it, Jeeves," I said quietly.
"Very well." Jeeves took my hand in his and said, "I've examined all the facts and the non-facts, sir, and I know now that I love you." My heart stuttered, swelled, threatened to burst from my body! I searched Jeeves face for the slightest sign that he wasn't telling the truth, but I know my Jeeves. He may be able to lie smoothly to others, but I could always tell. And at that moment, I could discern no trickery.
"I am sorry for all the pain I caused you before I was able to arrive at this conclusion," Jeeves continued, "for my only excuse is that I've never felt this way, and never considered myself capable of it."
I placed a fingertip against his lips. "You'll apologise and explain yourself all night if I allow it. Just kiss me, will you?"
And so he did. We kissed for quite awhile on the chesterfield, Jeeves licking at my ear every few moments. I mussed his hair like I knew he enjoyed and listened to his low moans. It was incredibly similar to our old sensual lessons, except every action was accompanied by the wonderful knowledge that Jeeves was mine and I was his. When I couldn't bear being separated from Jeeves by even a molecule, I arranged my legs so as to sit astride his thighs, and his cockstand rubbed against me, stiff and eager.
"More carnal sympathy?" I teased.
"Never," Jeeves whispered. "It has always been my intense attraction to you that causes me to harden like this." He snatched one of my hands from his hair and pressed my palm against the bulge in his trousers. "My body wanted you long before my heart could fathom it. It has proven, in this instance, to be much more intelligent."
My own body shuddered deliciously. "Oh, Jeeves." I cupped him through the wool of his pinstripes. "I know it's probably too soon; this is all happening so fast. I—I'm afraid I will become rather forceful with you if we don't stop now."
Jeeves' hips bucked involuntarily and he sucked in a hissing breath. "Then let us continue," he said, kissing me once more.
When we parted for air, Jeeves directed, "Go to your bedroom, sir. I will follow you in just a moment."
If there had been a world record for the fastest sprint between chesterfield and master bedroom, I surely would have broken it then. All my dreams were coming true! I was finally going to make love to the one I cherished. But once I was in my room, alone and aching with need, doubt began to set in. Would I even have a bally clue about how to proceed? Fillies were one thing, but coves were quite another, and I had experience in neither. What if my lovemaking proved to be not at all up to snuff? One doesn't like to think that the tender emotions are completely dependent on physical dexterity in bed, but it seemed to me that if you were tying yourself to one man in a forever sort of way, you'd want to be sure that man could pleasure you like you wanted. Otherwise, you'd be missing a piece of the puzzle, what?
I was nearer to tearing out my hair than tearing off my clothes when Jeeves appeared. He stood in the doorway, illuminated from the lights in the sitting room, dressed in his shirtsleeves. I had no words for how beautiful he looked, standing there. He held a little something in his hand, which he tossed to me playfully. I caught it with my sharp helmet-grabbing reflexes and looked at the thing. It was a small jar of petroleum jelly. Frowns of confusion lined my face, I'm sure. But before I could ask Jeeves what the jar was for, he began disrobing.
He said nothing as he first unbuttoned his waistcoat and slid it from his shoulders. Silence remained as he unknotted his black tie and dropped it to the ground to meet the waistcoat. He undid the studs of his shirt while slipping off his shoes. Braces, trousers, socks and garters: they all were quietly discarded. He pulled his undervest over his head, his torso bunching and flexing with strength. And then, finally, the rest of his underthings were gone and Jeeves stood naked before me.
If you've never seen Jeeves sans uniform (and I'm betting you haven't), you couldn't know the physique he keeps hidden under all those layers. He was perfectly formed, tall and fit, with miles of tanned skin and crisp, dark curls on his chest and around his cockstand. If you took a dictionary and looked up "masculine beauty" there would be a lithograph of Jeeves. My mouth ran dry at the sight.
"Sir?" he prompted, resting one hand on his gorgeous hip and leaning his other forearm against the door jamb. It was a pose the likes of which I had never seen Jeeves in before. Fitting, I suppose, as he would hopefully be in several never-before-seen poses that evening with me.
"You're so absolutely exquisite," I breathed. I stepped close to him and kissed his lips, his neck, his bare chest. "Jeeves, you're aware that I will be relying on you tonight for everything? I've got a general idea of what goes on between two men, but the specifics are lost on me. I'm so damned out of my depth here, and you are so beautiful."
He wrapped his arms round me, and the sinful pleasure of his naked body against my clothed one filled me with desire. "I want you to take me, sir," Jeeves said, kissing my temple.
I was stunned. "Really? Are you sure? Not the other way around?" I had rather imagined that I would be taking a more passive role, being a fish out of water and all that.
"I've dreamt of being underneath you. Being buggered by you." His lips trailed down my cheek to whisper against my mouth. "I want to give you this."
"But will you enjoy it? That is, you are always so strong, Jeeves. So in control of everything," I said.
Jeeves nodded. "In my everyday life, yes. To relinquish that control is my most wanton fantasy." He kissed me softly. "Will you, please?"
"I'm certainly not going to say no!" I enthused. "Guide me as you will."
Jeeves directed my attention to the jar that I still had clutched in my hand, and told me this substance would go a long way in preparing him. We adjourned to the bed where Jeeves showed me what this preparation entailed. A normal person might have found this act too filthy to contemplate, but that normal person wouldn't have seen Jeeves do it. I watched Jeeves slick his fingers with the jelly and touch himself, working one finger into his little hole while his other hand pulled at his bollocks. He writhed like an animal on my bed and I, understandably, became an instant supporter of this buggery business.
"How long must you keep at this?" I asked, licking a drop of sweat from Jeeves' heaving chest.
"As long as it takes to be stretched for your cock," Jeeves panted. "Sir, take off your clothes. I wish to see you."
"Oh! Right-o." I undid my buttons and studs a bit haphazardly, trying to keep my eyes glued to the man beside me as I shimmied out of my togs. All the while, Jeeves spoke to me.
"Now my body is relaxed enough for a second finger," he said as he slid another into himself. "God in Heaven," he moaned, "I cannot wait to have you within me."
"I'm in a similar state, Jeeves." I pressed against him, our first embrace of bare flesh on bare flesh, and we both shivered at the heat, the sweat, the smell of each other's arousal. "Is there anything I can do for you, love?" I asked.
Jeeves slipped his fingers free of his body and took hold of my wrist, guiding my hand between his legs. "Give me your fingers. It would be wise to show you how this feels so that you may know when I'm ready for you in the future."
The thought of a future filled with nights like this made my cock twitch against Jeeves' stomach. My mouth found his, and we shared a kiss as I pressed my fingers to his hole. And Jeeves, mark my words, whimpered into my mouth. My fingers, aided by the jelly, eased in and out of his arse, hot and tight. I had to call upon everything I'd learned during our damnable, beloved lessons to stop myself from coming off right then.
"Jeeves," I tried to say without a quiver in my voice, "if you're ready, maybe we should continue to the next stage."
"Agreed." He tugged on my wrist until my fingers left him, then rose to his knees. He paused, then touched my jaw with a light and tender hand. "I love you so much," Jeeves said.
"Returned in spades, old thing." I grinned at him.
The corner of Jeeves' mouth lifted in return, and then he swiftly arranged himself on his hands and knees, facing away from me. His tempting bottom lifted before me, followed by the long, beautiful line of his back. Jeeves looked over his shoulder at me, his eyes dark with need.
"Inside me, now, before I die from wanting you," his rough voice demanded.
I snapped to it. A hand on Jeeves' hip to steady me, and a hand on my cockstand to steady it, and the pieces began to fall into place. I pressed onward, breaching Jeeves as slowly as I could. The feel of his body, inside and out, was incredible. Each twitch of muscle and shivering sinew was telegraphed straight to me, so I felt all that Jeeves was feeling. I ran my hands from his hips up his back, smoothing down his skin and attempting to control my urge to pound into him with all my might.
"Does it hurt?" I asked, because logic dictated it must, and I hated to think that I was causing Jeeves pain.
"Not as such," he whispered. "It is an odd sensation, but the majority of the discomfort fades the deeper you go." I obliged by sliding in steadily. "There is a small spot two or three inches—Oh Lord!" This was shouted just as my cock rubbed against a little nub inside Jeeves. He slammed back against me, his arse now flush against me.
Once my eyes were finished rolling in the back of my head I asked, quite smugly, "Was that the spot you to which you referred, Jeeves?"
"You know it is," he snarled back. His hips continued pressing back and forth, desperately buggering himself on my prick. Our skin slapped together in a filthy rhythm. "Touch me, please!" Jeeves cried.
My hand dropped from the small of his back to his cock, dripping and slick, between his legs. I took him in hand, intermittently rolling his bollocks in my palm before returning my touch to his cock. It was so inconceivable to me that Jeeves, a man of so much strength and power, was letting me take him in this manner, I almost convinced myself this was a dream. But the locomotive-like breathing of Jeeves beneath me, his body working furiously towards his peak, the unending pleasure that suffused my every cell, this couldn't all be a dream.
I draped myself over Jeeves' back like a blanket, one hand still on his cock and the other pinching at one of his nipples. "I love being inside you," I said into his ear. "I love seeing you like this."
"Oh, allow me to be like this always!" Jeeves groaned, his head dropping forward and baring the back of his neck for my teeth. I nipped and bit at that strip of skin hungrily while Jeeves said, "I will remain in your bed all day; I will never wear clothes; you could fuck me from behind like this whenever you wished, or order me to suck at your cock at any moment. It would be bliss!"
"Jeeves, you indecent rake! You would lounge in my bed all the time, waiting for me to use you? You sound positively whorish, my love."" I sucked at the skin on his neck until it raised in a red welt.
Jeeves gave a cry that mingled pain with longing. "Yes, yes, mark me!" he begged. "I am yours."
Caught up in Jeeves' delectable talk, I dug my fingernails into the skin on his chest while I left another lovebite on his shoulder. All the while my hips pounded into Jeeves' willing body. From either the force of my thrusts or the mounting pleasure coursing through him, Jeeves' knees gave out and he slumped down on the bedclothes, sprawled out under me. He moved as if to rise again, but my hands pinned down his wrists.
"Mine," I murmured in his ear. "Say it again."
"Completely yours," Jeeves swore, spreading his legs even more.
I was seconds away from coming off violently, so I reached under Jeeves' belly and took hold of his cock, which was leaking so much fluid I had to ask, "Have you come off, Jeeves?"
Words seemed to leave my man as he shook his head and buried his face in a pillow.
"You're about to?" I queried, tugging at his prick with all due speed. "Come off, love. Come off for me, Jeeves." I angled my hips just a bit and touched that small spot within him once more. Jeeves howled, muffled, into the bedclothes and his entire body jerked as if burned. His cock twitched in my hand, spurting his seed into my fingers. I waited as long as was gentlemanly possible for Jeeves to ride out his peak, but after a few moments I could stand it no longer, and I spent myself deep in his body.
I collapsed onto Jeeves' heaving back, slicked with sweat and not altogether aware if I was alive or dead. I felt so positively fantastic that I thought I couldn't be alive, and yet there were no angels hanging about. Unless one counted the mussed and panting naked valet beneath me, but if I were to call Jeeves such a thing, he would probably not appreciate it.
As I gasped in huge lungfuls of air, my hands gentled on Jeeves' wrists and I twined my fingers with his. "Are you all right?" I asked. "Did I do well?" Truth be told, I had been so wrapped up in the thing that I hadn't stopped to think if I was doing it properly.
Jeeves turned his head to meet my eyes over his shoulder. His black hair was in disarray, his cheeks were flushed, and he had never looked so beautiful as he did then. "You were exceptional," he told me, his voice filled with pride.
I couldn't hide my relief. "Thank you, Jeeves. You weren't half-bad, of course," I said, giving him a teasing peck on the nose. "Now let me get off of you. I'm sure you'd rather not sleep with a Bertram-shaped sack of potatoes slung across your back." With some effort, I levered myself off of Jeeves. My softening cock slipped from him, and a thin trickle of white seed ran down the inside of his thigh. "Oh, Lord, Jeeves," I whispered, sitting back on my heels and gazing at his prone, debauched form. "You'll make me harden again in a minute if you keep up this wheeze of yours."
"And what wheeze is that, sir?" he asked, rolling onto his side and giving me a good look at the glistening mess of fluid on his chest and belly.
"Looking so gorgeously sensual, of course," I said, flopping down beside him. Jeeves wrapped his arms round me, and as sticky and tired as I was, I couldn't help but be overjoyed. "Jeeves, I am overjoyed."
"So the experience was pleasing to you as well?" Jeeves asked. One might think he would say such a thing in a self-satisfied manner, but my ear was pressed to his chest and I could hear his heart skip a beat when he asked it.
"It was," I kissed the hollow of his throat, "the most," I kissed his chin, "enormously," I kissed his cheek, "fantastic thing. And I was able to share it with you, which makes it all the sweeter." I finally arrived at his lips, and kissed them thoroughly. "You may think you're not an easy man to love, Jeeves, but if our nights are just one-tenth as wonderful as this one, I don't think it will be a hardship."
Jeeves' face took on a grave look then. "But hardship is most certainly ahead, sir. Our lives will be shrouded in secrecy forever. The threat of discovery will hang over our heads until the day we die."
"Pish posh," said I. "Have you seen yourself in the mirror? Rather softens the blow for me, I should think."
Jeeves flipped us suddenly so that I was underneath him, helpless against his greater height and musculature. "Sir, this is serious." His eyes glinted in the fading light.
I gave him another soft kiss, one that lasted, one that he responded to after a short time. "So is my love for you," I said in a quiet voice when we parted. "I am willing to accept the terms. Can you, Jeeves?"
His frown softened, and he gazed down at me fondly. "I do, sir."
"Well, then." I grinned. "To the bath, my love?"
"Certainly, my only," Jeeves said, and swept me up in his arms before I could say hullo. That night, I taught Jeeves how to relax amid the soap suds and the rubber duckies, and he taught me how best to fit two grown men in one bathtub. This is all to say, the lessons never quite stopped. They continued on, with Jeeves and I trading the role of student and lecturer every day. Just as it should be, what?
fin.
Whew! This took a lot of time to finish up but I managed to use mu holiday wisely today and get it done. I hope you enjoyed, y'all. This was more smutty than I normally write, and also a different type of angsty. Let me know what you think. Comments mean I turn into a typing machine, so go for eet. <3 <3 <3