A Little Bit of Valentines Day fluff
Feb. 14th, 2010 03:55 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
mrs-rochester11.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
indeedsir_backupJust a short drabble I wrote this morning. I'm not usually a Valentines day person, but I can make an exception for these lovely boys. They're too cute:) No beta, and I'm not a very experienced fic writer, so please excuse any mistakes, they're all me.
Title: Jeeves and the Arrow of Eros
Rating: PG-13 just to be safe
Pairing: Bertie/Jeeves
Summary: Jeeves has never been a fan of Valentines Day...
Warnings: Nothing much, though there is talk of man-smexing
Jeeves and the Arrow of Eros
It will not surprise anyone who knows me intimately, to discover that I was never an enthusiastic proponent of Valentine’s Day.
My acquaintances would probably tell you that this is due to my natural inclination towards stoicism, and this is in part true. I had always found it slightly ridiculous to see the profusion of cards in the shops absurdly decorated with a plethora of hearts and cupids; and to not be able to walk along the streets of London without seeing pairs of young couples whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears, was nothing short of nauseating. My naturally reserved nature revolted at it. But that is not the only reason that I have never been over-eager about the holiday.
Because to see the happy couples of the metropolis, strolling arm in arm in the late winter sunshine, only served to remind me of what I could never have. To see two lovers holding hands in the light of day was often more then I could bear.
I admit that my employer often exaggerates my mental prowess in his writings but I flatter myself that I am no fool and by the time I was an adolescent, I believe I was well aware of my proclivities. The plain truth is that I prefer the company of men. I am an invert.
For many years I was ashamed. I hid it beneath layers of propriety and threw myself into the work of being a valet. I feared discovery more than anything and so I concealed my emotions, protecting my soul with a mask of passivity.
Until I began to work for Mr. Wooster, when my profession became a sweet never-ending torture.
Before Bertram, I had worked for older, respectable gentlemen who were as dry as the air in their stuffy houses. They hadn’t cared for me and I hadn’t cared for them. It had been a job and one which I had performed well. But Bertram was so different, in so many ways. Firstly there was his beauty; even in the hung over, rumpled state in which I found him when I first rang the bell of 3a Berkley Mansions, I was still stunned by his exquisite good looks. Eyes as blue as the bright summer sky, dark blonde hair, tinged with gold and a slim body worthy of the artists brush. But aside from his physical attractions, he was the kindest employer I had had; I could not help but be happy in the presence of his shining optimism and bright smile.
I tried my hardest to be careful, to stay strictly within the bounds of the master servant relationship. And I failed. After a brief two months in his employment, I knew I was irrevocably ruined. I had fallen in love, and at the time I had no hope of it being returned.
Yet I determined to stay by Mr. Woosters’ side. If I could not have him, I could at least protect him and watch over him. And just as I had resigned myself to silence when Bertram, nervous and blushing, crept into the kitchen one day and, to my amazement, told me he loved me.
For the first time in my loquacious and eloquent existence, I was at a loss for words. Thankfully on the occasion, Bertram stopped my mouth with a swift kiss, thus rendering an answer unnecessary.
I could not, nor can I now recall, when I had been happier. Those first few days were bliss and after much discussion, we decided to take a vacation to Cuba to celebrate.
“I know we can’t formally announce the bans and all that, but we might as well have a proper honeymoon what?” Bertie said.
“Indeed, Bertram.” I answered smiling.
We spent a month in a rented cottage on the beach, basking in the warm sand and clear waters during the day and making love throughout the cool, long nights.
That was a little over a year ago. And our situation, if anything, has only improved. There have of course been some difficulties; the fact that we cannot express ourselves in public is a continual source of frustration. Yet we are happy.
Thus it was that I awoke this past February the 14th and smiled as Bertie kissed me tenderly,
“Happy Valentine’s day old thing.” He said with a smile in his voice, nudging into the warm crook of my neck like a contented cat. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer, kissing his forehead gently.
“Happy Valentine’s day, Bertie.” I rolled over gently till my lover’s lithe body lay beneath mine and took to nibbling at his pale, smooth neck, eliciting a deep hum of pleasure from Bertram as he snaked his arms around my shoulders. I looked up from my task, into his sweet blue eyes, “Shall I prepare us something special for breakfast sir?” I asked
“Not a bit of it Jeeves! You’re not going to move a muscle today my love. We shall have breakfast in bed and I shall make it.” And with that pronouncement he slid out of bed and after dressing quickly and making me promise not leave the bed, he hurried to the kitchen. I was understandably nervous; my master-turned-paramour has many merits, but culinary skill is not amongst them. And when after twenty minutes I detected the faint smell of burnt toast and hear a disconcerted cry of, “Jeeves?”, I dressed and made my way to the kitchen with alacrity .
“Couldn’t lend a hand could you Jeeves?” Bertram asked sheepishly as he frowned at two blackened pieces of toast and the still smoking toaster and I couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped me.
“Of course, sir”
In the end we managed, together, to produce an admirable breakfast, which we partook of on the couch in the living room. As we chatted amiably, Bertie sat with his legs curled in my lap, my free hand stroking through his hair.
After breakfast we exchanged gifts. I presented Bertram with a stack of new piano music I had purchased for the occasion, much of it modern songs I knew he would enjoy singing, but I had also included some Bach and Debussy for my own pleasure. Along with this I had bought him a pair of exquisite chocolate brown leather gloves. I had seen them in the shop and I confess that, aside from their obvious quality, the idea of Bertram’s delicate fingers encased in smooth leather, roving over my sensitive skin was more than I could resist. He expressed his joy at both gifts and my heart leapt at the obvious pleasure in his face.
With a dramatic flourish, Bertie pulled his gift for me out from behind his back. He held a small box which looked like it had come from a jewelers shop and I took it with curiosity. I opened it to reveal an expensive, yet elegant pair of gold cufflinks. I stared at them for a moment before looking up at Bertie again, an anxious expression on his face.
“I know I can’t buy you rings and shower you with jewels and what not like most couples. But I just wanted to get you something you could where in public; to show that I care for you…” He trailed of nervously. I took his hand in mine.
“They are absolutely wonderful Bertram.” I leaned in so our foreheads were touching and stroked his cheek, our lips inches apart, “And even if we cannot show it, I know you love me. And you should never doubt that I love you just as passionately.”
“I never do.” He said quietly. I surged forward and kissed him for all I was worth, sucking on his bottom lip like a sugary sweet before he opened his gorgeous mouth so our tongues could stroke against each other in a delicious rhythm.
We spent the afternoon side by side at the piano, Bertie playing through the more classical pieces I had chosen, to please me. I rested my hand at the exposed skin at the back of his neck and caressed him gently. Occasionally we paused to kiss languorously, knowing we had all the time in the world. At least for now.
I do believe that Valentine’s Day has become much more bearable.
Title: Jeeves and the Arrow of Eros
Rating: PG-13 just to be safe
Pairing: Bertie/Jeeves
Summary: Jeeves has never been a fan of Valentines Day...
Warnings: Nothing much, though there is talk of man-smexing
Jeeves and the Arrow of Eros
It will not surprise anyone who knows me intimately, to discover that I was never an enthusiastic proponent of Valentine’s Day.
My acquaintances would probably tell you that this is due to my natural inclination towards stoicism, and this is in part true. I had always found it slightly ridiculous to see the profusion of cards in the shops absurdly decorated with a plethora of hearts and cupids; and to not be able to walk along the streets of London without seeing pairs of young couples whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears, was nothing short of nauseating. My naturally reserved nature revolted at it. But that is not the only reason that I have never been over-eager about the holiday.
Because to see the happy couples of the metropolis, strolling arm in arm in the late winter sunshine, only served to remind me of what I could never have. To see two lovers holding hands in the light of day was often more then I could bear.
I admit that my employer often exaggerates my mental prowess in his writings but I flatter myself that I am no fool and by the time I was an adolescent, I believe I was well aware of my proclivities. The plain truth is that I prefer the company of men. I am an invert.
For many years I was ashamed. I hid it beneath layers of propriety and threw myself into the work of being a valet. I feared discovery more than anything and so I concealed my emotions, protecting my soul with a mask of passivity.
Until I began to work for Mr. Wooster, when my profession became a sweet never-ending torture.
Before Bertram, I had worked for older, respectable gentlemen who were as dry as the air in their stuffy houses. They hadn’t cared for me and I hadn’t cared for them. It had been a job and one which I had performed well. But Bertram was so different, in so many ways. Firstly there was his beauty; even in the hung over, rumpled state in which I found him when I first rang the bell of 3a Berkley Mansions, I was still stunned by his exquisite good looks. Eyes as blue as the bright summer sky, dark blonde hair, tinged with gold and a slim body worthy of the artists brush. But aside from his physical attractions, he was the kindest employer I had had; I could not help but be happy in the presence of his shining optimism and bright smile.
I tried my hardest to be careful, to stay strictly within the bounds of the master servant relationship. And I failed. After a brief two months in his employment, I knew I was irrevocably ruined. I had fallen in love, and at the time I had no hope of it being returned.
Yet I determined to stay by Mr. Woosters’ side. If I could not have him, I could at least protect him and watch over him. And just as I had resigned myself to silence when Bertram, nervous and blushing, crept into the kitchen one day and, to my amazement, told me he loved me.
For the first time in my loquacious and eloquent existence, I was at a loss for words. Thankfully on the occasion, Bertram stopped my mouth with a swift kiss, thus rendering an answer unnecessary.
I could not, nor can I now recall, when I had been happier. Those first few days were bliss and after much discussion, we decided to take a vacation to Cuba to celebrate.
“I know we can’t formally announce the bans and all that, but we might as well have a proper honeymoon what?” Bertie said.
“Indeed, Bertram.” I answered smiling.
We spent a month in a rented cottage on the beach, basking in the warm sand and clear waters during the day and making love throughout the cool, long nights.
That was a little over a year ago. And our situation, if anything, has only improved. There have of course been some difficulties; the fact that we cannot express ourselves in public is a continual source of frustration. Yet we are happy.
Thus it was that I awoke this past February the 14th and smiled as Bertie kissed me tenderly,
“Happy Valentine’s day old thing.” He said with a smile in his voice, nudging into the warm crook of my neck like a contented cat. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer, kissing his forehead gently.
“Happy Valentine’s day, Bertie.” I rolled over gently till my lover’s lithe body lay beneath mine and took to nibbling at his pale, smooth neck, eliciting a deep hum of pleasure from Bertram as he snaked his arms around my shoulders. I looked up from my task, into his sweet blue eyes, “Shall I prepare us something special for breakfast sir?” I asked
“Not a bit of it Jeeves! You’re not going to move a muscle today my love. We shall have breakfast in bed and I shall make it.” And with that pronouncement he slid out of bed and after dressing quickly and making me promise not leave the bed, he hurried to the kitchen. I was understandably nervous; my master-turned-paramour has many merits, but culinary skill is not amongst them. And when after twenty minutes I detected the faint smell of burnt toast and hear a disconcerted cry of, “Jeeves?”, I dressed and made my way to the kitchen with alacrity .
“Couldn’t lend a hand could you Jeeves?” Bertram asked sheepishly as he frowned at two blackened pieces of toast and the still smoking toaster and I couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped me.
“Of course, sir”
In the end we managed, together, to produce an admirable breakfast, which we partook of on the couch in the living room. As we chatted amiably, Bertie sat with his legs curled in my lap, my free hand stroking through his hair.
After breakfast we exchanged gifts. I presented Bertram with a stack of new piano music I had purchased for the occasion, much of it modern songs I knew he would enjoy singing, but I had also included some Bach and Debussy for my own pleasure. Along with this I had bought him a pair of exquisite chocolate brown leather gloves. I had seen them in the shop and I confess that, aside from their obvious quality, the idea of Bertram’s delicate fingers encased in smooth leather, roving over my sensitive skin was more than I could resist. He expressed his joy at both gifts and my heart leapt at the obvious pleasure in his face.
With a dramatic flourish, Bertie pulled his gift for me out from behind his back. He held a small box which looked like it had come from a jewelers shop and I took it with curiosity. I opened it to reveal an expensive, yet elegant pair of gold cufflinks. I stared at them for a moment before looking up at Bertie again, an anxious expression on his face.
“I know I can’t buy you rings and shower you with jewels and what not like most couples. But I just wanted to get you something you could where in public; to show that I care for you…” He trailed of nervously. I took his hand in mine.
“They are absolutely wonderful Bertram.” I leaned in so our foreheads were touching and stroked his cheek, our lips inches apart, “And even if we cannot show it, I know you love me. And you should never doubt that I love you just as passionately.”
“I never do.” He said quietly. I surged forward and kissed him for all I was worth, sucking on his bottom lip like a sugary sweet before he opened his gorgeous mouth so our tongues could stroke against each other in a delicious rhythm.
We spent the afternoon side by side at the piano, Bertie playing through the more classical pieces I had chosen, to please me. I rested my hand at the exposed skin at the back of his neck and caressed him gently. Occasionally we paused to kiss languorously, knowing we had all the time in the world. At least for now.
I do believe that Valentine’s Day has become much more bearable.
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no subject
Date: 2010-02-14 09:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-14 09:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-14 09:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-14 09:52 pm (UTC)I think I just went into a diabetic coma that was so sweet <33
no subject
Date: 2010-02-14 10:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-14 11:54 pm (UTC)Right, now that that's done with,
AWWWWWWWWWWWW<3
Could use a wee bit more commas, etc, but as a one-shotter vair nice!
no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 12:32 am (UTC)Awwwwwwwwww...
So sweet and adorable! I loved it. :D
no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 01:08 am (UTC)AwwwWWWWWWWwwwwwwwwwwwwwWWWWWwwwwwwwwwWWWWWwwwwsweet :D
no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 01:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 06:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 08:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 10:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 08:20 pm (UTC)My acquaintances would probably tell you that this is due to my natural inclination towards stoicism << Jeeves' acquaintances have such a nice description of him lol
Cufflinks! Such a nice idea, Bertie ;D
no subject
Date: 2010-02-17 02:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-05 08:32 am (UTC)