Fic: Oceans, part 16 (PG-13)
Feb. 21st, 2010 10:25 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
hazeltea.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
indeedsir_backupPairing: Bertie/Jeeves
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not profit from the lovely works of Wodehouse.
part 15 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/750867.html#cutid1
part 14 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/743385.html#cutid1
part 13 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/741218.html#cutid1
part 12 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/727612.html#cutid1
part 11 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/723716.html#cutid1
part 10 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/722065.html#cutid1
part 9 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/715646.html#cutid1
part 8 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/709635.html#cutid1
part 7 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/707880.html#cutid1
part 6 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/704354.html#cutid1
part 5 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/701596.html#cutid1
part 4 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/695505.html#cutid1
part 3 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/693063.html#cutid1
part 2 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/689461.html#cutid1
part 1 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/687730.html#cutid1
I was so deeply involved in my own reading one evening, that I failed to notice the paperback slip from Mr. Wooster’s fingers as he passed into slumber beside me. Hearing the faint flutter of pages as he shifted alerted me, and as I retrieved the book to place on the nightstand, I paused to admire his features, still for once in sleep. Faint lines had come to his brow and eyes while he had been living in his unfortunate situation, lines one could not notice when he was awake, for all the animation his customary expressions held. His skin was still petal smooth, his nose, daintily carved like delicate china, his dark, honey tinged lashes fluttering lightly against his cheek as he dreamed. I stroked my finger against that beloved cheek, and found my fingers damp.
“Sir?” I kept my voice soft, comforting. Gently I shook his shoulder. A whine emitted from his throat, forming my name. I pulled him into my lap and gave a firmer shake. Mr. Wooster came to his senses, gripping the fabric of my pajama shirt in vice-like fingers. For a long while, we stayed as such, wordlessly embraced, with Mr. Wooster clutching and curling close, myself supporting him, running my palm smoothly down his spine.
“Jeeves?” He untucked his chin to peer up at me.
“Sir?”
His expression was guarded, uncertain. “I had a bally rotten dream, Jeeves.”
“Yes, sir.” I ran my fingers through the strands of his hair, slightly dampened by his distress. “Would you like to discuss it, sir?”
“I don’t know.” He replaced his face into the crook of my neck, and patiently, I waited.
“Jeeves… I dreamed that there was another man.” His voice was small, and guilty, for he knew better than to accuse me of such.
“There is no one but you, my Bertram.” I said, smoothly. He nodded miserably. I reminded myself that dreams were irrational, and that his trust in me was complete.
“I dreamed that you accused me… of going around with Sid. I didn’t, you know. I didn’t, not even when I forgot you, I kept to myself. I always did. I’m so sorry that I forgot you.” He broke off with a sob that he failed to suppress deep in his throat. I tightened my grip, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to come together.
“It was not your fault that you forgot, my love.” I whispered, as he shook, sternly forcing himself to cease his trembling and sniffling. “It wouldn’t be your fault if you had found his company pleasing.” Anyone but him, I thought, almost sick to my stomach at the thought of such low rabble touching my master. I sighed into his hair, grateful that he had come back to me both alive and unattached.
“I can’t be with anyone but you, see.”
“And I, you, sir.” He had stilled in my arms, and was now pressing close in a way expressing more affection than fear.
“How will I do without you when you go away for your fishing?” he murmured, ruffling the hair at the nape of my neck. The final piece fell into place with a satisfying click.
“I will not be taking my leave this year, sir.” I replied.
“But Jeeves, you must!” he exclaimed. “You’ve done so much for me, I just can’t…”
Mr. Wooster never wanted me to go, it was true; but it was proper to take two weeks time and I had always enjoyed it immensely, even without his presence. In the future, I would need to take the usual holiday alone in order to keep from arousing suspicion about relations between us, but I had not planned on doing so this year; not when he was so vulnerable, not when I still wanted nothing but to see him every second of every day, safe and real.
“You need me, sir.” I reminded him. “Herne Bay will remain as it is for yet another year.”
“Perhaps a shorter holiday, then.” Mr. Wooster managed, glancing up at me shyly, “As I’ll always need you, you know. If I get out of practice, it will be harder to let you go next year.” I could see the quiet guilt in his eyes, that which had nagged at him until it had become an irrational, out of proportion nightmare. He did not wish to wrong me.
“Perhaps, sir.” I relented. “We shall discuss it as the time comes nearer, but I would prefer a short, local stay. It is important to me that I stay close at hand, and that I might, this time, return to you with expedience.”
“I worry that I’ll drive you away, needing you so much.” He whispered. “Without you, I’d have no clue to who I am, and no place at all in the world. You deserve the grandest holiday imaginable, old thing. I should be letting you safari, or sail the world, not piddle about in a country inn.”
I tilted his chin and smiled, allowing him to see the gleam of lust in my eyes. “Tell me, my Bertram, what is more pleasurable than feeling needed? Indulge me, sir, let me stay close, let me feel like a man.” It was a ploy, but it was also the truth. When those incredibly blue eyes dilated and those soft, pink lips parted under my words, there is no expedition that could have tempted me from his side. With the matter settled, I switched off the lamp, and took my right as his man.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not profit from the lovely works of Wodehouse.
part 15 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/750867.html#cutid1
part 14 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/743385.html#cutid1
part 13 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/741218.html#cutid1
part 12 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/727612.html#cutid1
part 11 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/723716.html#cutid1
part 10 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/722065.html#cutid1
part 9 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/715646.html#cutid1
part 8 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/709635.html#cutid1
part 7 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/707880.html#cutid1
part 6 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/704354.html#cutid1
part 5 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/701596.html#cutid1
part 4 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/695505.html#cutid1
part 3 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/693063.html#cutid1
part 2 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/689461.html#cutid1
part 1 http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/687730.html#cutid1
I was so deeply involved in my own reading one evening, that I failed to notice the paperback slip from Mr. Wooster’s fingers as he passed into slumber beside me. Hearing the faint flutter of pages as he shifted alerted me, and as I retrieved the book to place on the nightstand, I paused to admire his features, still for once in sleep. Faint lines had come to his brow and eyes while he had been living in his unfortunate situation, lines one could not notice when he was awake, for all the animation his customary expressions held. His skin was still petal smooth, his nose, daintily carved like delicate china, his dark, honey tinged lashes fluttering lightly against his cheek as he dreamed. I stroked my finger against that beloved cheek, and found my fingers damp.
“Sir?” I kept my voice soft, comforting. Gently I shook his shoulder. A whine emitted from his throat, forming my name. I pulled him into my lap and gave a firmer shake. Mr. Wooster came to his senses, gripping the fabric of my pajama shirt in vice-like fingers. For a long while, we stayed as such, wordlessly embraced, with Mr. Wooster clutching and curling close, myself supporting him, running my palm smoothly down his spine.
“Jeeves?” He untucked his chin to peer up at me.
“Sir?”
His expression was guarded, uncertain. “I had a bally rotten dream, Jeeves.”
“Yes, sir.” I ran my fingers through the strands of his hair, slightly dampened by his distress. “Would you like to discuss it, sir?”
“I don’t know.” He replaced his face into the crook of my neck, and patiently, I waited.
“Jeeves… I dreamed that there was another man.” His voice was small, and guilty, for he knew better than to accuse me of such.
“There is no one but you, my Bertram.” I said, smoothly. He nodded miserably. I reminded myself that dreams were irrational, and that his trust in me was complete.
“I dreamed that you accused me… of going around with Sid. I didn’t, you know. I didn’t, not even when I forgot you, I kept to myself. I always did. I’m so sorry that I forgot you.” He broke off with a sob that he failed to suppress deep in his throat. I tightened my grip, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to come together.
“It was not your fault that you forgot, my love.” I whispered, as he shook, sternly forcing himself to cease his trembling and sniffling. “It wouldn’t be your fault if you had found his company pleasing.” Anyone but him, I thought, almost sick to my stomach at the thought of such low rabble touching my master. I sighed into his hair, grateful that he had come back to me both alive and unattached.
“I can’t be with anyone but you, see.”
“And I, you, sir.” He had stilled in my arms, and was now pressing close in a way expressing more affection than fear.
“How will I do without you when you go away for your fishing?” he murmured, ruffling the hair at the nape of my neck. The final piece fell into place with a satisfying click.
“I will not be taking my leave this year, sir.” I replied.
“But Jeeves, you must!” he exclaimed. “You’ve done so much for me, I just can’t…”
Mr. Wooster never wanted me to go, it was true; but it was proper to take two weeks time and I had always enjoyed it immensely, even without his presence. In the future, I would need to take the usual holiday alone in order to keep from arousing suspicion about relations between us, but I had not planned on doing so this year; not when he was so vulnerable, not when I still wanted nothing but to see him every second of every day, safe and real.
“You need me, sir.” I reminded him. “Herne Bay will remain as it is for yet another year.”
“Perhaps a shorter holiday, then.” Mr. Wooster managed, glancing up at me shyly, “As I’ll always need you, you know. If I get out of practice, it will be harder to let you go next year.” I could see the quiet guilt in his eyes, that which had nagged at him until it had become an irrational, out of proportion nightmare. He did not wish to wrong me.
“Perhaps, sir.” I relented. “We shall discuss it as the time comes nearer, but I would prefer a short, local stay. It is important to me that I stay close at hand, and that I might, this time, return to you with expedience.”
“I worry that I’ll drive you away, needing you so much.” He whispered. “Without you, I’d have no clue to who I am, and no place at all in the world. You deserve the grandest holiday imaginable, old thing. I should be letting you safari, or sail the world, not piddle about in a country inn.”
I tilted his chin and smiled, allowing him to see the gleam of lust in my eyes. “Tell me, my Bertram, what is more pleasurable than feeling needed? Indulge me, sir, let me stay close, let me feel like a man.” It was a ploy, but it was also the truth. When those incredibly blue eyes dilated and those soft, pink lips parted under my words, there is no expedition that could have tempted me from his side. With the matter settled, I switched off the lamp, and took my right as his man.
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Date: 2010-02-22 03:31 am (UTC)I need a cold shower.
This whole story is gorgeous.
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Date: 2010-02-24 02:49 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-02-22 04:13 am (UTC)“I worry that I’ll drive you away, needing you so much.” :( Don't worry, Bertie! Jeeves needs you just as much!
I love this story,old fruit. <3
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Date: 2010-02-22 11:24 pm (UTC)And BEAUTIFUL!
Guh. Please, please update sooner rather than later. I do miss this dreadfully and I want to see what's next!
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Date: 2010-02-24 02:55 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-02-23 02:26 am (UTC)Lovely work, and it's great to see a new chapter! :D
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Date: 2010-03-27 10:34 pm (UTC)