[identity profile] smokingthings.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] indeedsir_backup
Title: After the Row at Clapham Common
Author: SmokingThings
Rating: PG16ish for kissing and petting, but nothing explicit.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to P.G. Wodehouse. This is strictly for my own amusement.
Note: I just finished reading Psmith in the City over the weekend and I was so delighted by the image of Psmith springing to Mike's aid that I had to write something. So here it is. And here I am. Hi. Btw, I'm a newbie in every way- new to the community, the fandom, and slash in general- and this is my third-ever attempt at a fic. I urge all this as an excuse and ask that you be merciful :)


“Now then,” said Psmith with the air of a busy but not entirely unsympathetic surgeon. “If you will allow me, Comrade Jackson, I’ll just have a look at where that misguided ruffian got you with his stick. Your jacket, if you wouldn’t mind…? Thank you. Hm. Better have the shirt as well, I’d say.”

Mike, grimacing, shrugged himself out of his shirt. The flat was rather warm, but there was a slight breeze coming from the open window.

“Just so, just so,” murmured Psmith, examining Mike’s shoulders. “Well, there shall be a nasty bruise, I expect, but that should be the extent of the damage. Let it be a lesson to you, Comrade Jackson, not to participate in brawls.”

“You were singing a different tune when you got that bloke in the chin,” Mike grinned.

“True,” Psmith acknowledged. “I will admit that in certain exceptional circumstances a man must take action. Was I to let that hooligan get away with wounding my confidential secretary and advisor? I should think not. The sight was more than flesh and blood could stand. In short, I lost my head. Ah, well. Let us chalk it up to experience, then, Comrade Jackson. Now, does it hurt much when I do this?”

“Rather,” Mike winced.

“Just as I suspected.” Psmith frowned and gently put his hand on Mike’s bare shoulder. “You’ll be all right, Comrade Jackson, but I don’t mind admitting that I was a bit shaken. Mine is a delicate sensibility. If I have a weakness it is that I cannot bear to see my nearest and dearest in pain.” His tone was so sincere that Mike looked up.

“It’s all right, you know,” he said, rather awkwardly. “It’s just a bruise.”

“I know,” said Psmith thoughtfully, not moving his hand. Mike had a sudden urge to take that hand in his own, and did so. He studied it. Psmith’s palm still bore the indentations of his neatly manicured fingernails. Without pausing to give the matter any thought, Mike gently kissed the knuckles, raw from the afternoon's scrapping. Psmith quickly drew his hand away and Mike suddenly felt a frightful fool. He was just about to gather up his shirt and excuse himself when he caught Psmith’s eye.

Psmith did not look horrified or disgusted or any of the other things one fellow might look when another fellow has just tenderly kissed his knuckles. For a moment Mike couldn’t at all identify Psmith’s expression, but then his natural intuition in regards to others’ feelings kicked in and he knew.

Psmith was looking at him with longing.

Wordlessly, Mike stood up and faced his chum. His eyes were serious, but the corners of his lips twitched slightly. Psmith opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything Mike had reached up and pulled Psmith’s mouth to his.

The kiss was awkward at first, but there was something appealing in its very awkwardness. The warm, wet grappling of tongues; the gentle click of teeth; the very inexperience of both made them feel like schoolboys again, engaged in some new game. Neither knew the rules well but both were keen to expand their knowledge. Psmith’s waistcoat (he had removed his jacket) was very warm and slightly scratchy against Mike’s bare chest. His hands, as if of their own accord, moved to unbutton the waistcoat. Psmith shrugged it off urgently, his hands immediately resuming their exploration of the muscles of Mike’s back.

“I say, let us have some of that, then,” Mike murmured.

“I beg your pardon?” Psmith asked absently, too intent on capturing Mike’s mouth to allow an answer. Mike’s hands went up to unbutton Psmith’s shirt and examine the smooth, pale skin beneath. Their boyish grappling was quickly becoming something rather less pure, but neither felt compelled to halt this progression. Mike, having succeeded in freeing Psmith of his upper garments, pressed their bodies together urgently.

“This sensation,” Psmith managed, “of skin against skin… it’s quite sensational.” Mike took advantage of this opportunity to scatter kisses down Psmith’s neck and jaw. “I wonder if it might be … if we might …” Futher attempts at speech were rebuffed by Mike reclaiming Psmith’s mouth, but he had grasped his friend’s intent. Fingers sure of their course, he proceeded to unbutton Psmith’s trousers. The other side made a similar attempt. They stepped out of these garments and the exploration continued.

“I say,” said Mike suddenly. “We’d better close those curtains before somebody sees.”

“An excellent suggestion,” said Psmith, stepping over to the window. “I ought to have thought of it myself. Once again, Comrade Jackson, you have displayed an admirable practicality. Not for you the swoon, the bated breath- no, Comrade Jackson is thinking always of What Must Be Done and How to Do It. The aim? Not being arrested. Apropos, has it occurred to you to wonder just what in heaven’s name we’ve just been doing?”

Mike groaned. “I think I’d rather not talk about it just now if you don’t mind.”

“Very well,” said Psmith, crossing back over to where Mike had sat down. “You are, as ever, the man of action. But perhaps at some later date, when it is convenient for you, you might consider furnishing me with an explanation. In the meantime, shall we resume?”

Mike’s answer was not in words, but in a matter of moments the two lay tangled up on the carpet and the investigation was back in full sway.

pslash!!

Date: 2005-06-15 10:26 am (UTC)
ext_14419: the mouse that wants Arthur's brain (Default)
From: [identity profile] derien.livejournal.com
Oh, yay!! This is lovely, and you did very well with Psmith's voice, I thought. :)

Okay, I would probably have been happy if it was any Pslash, but I sort of held my breath hoping it wouldn't be a butchering, since this fandom is my baby, at the moment - my New Love, and my New Relationship Energy is high - but you did a great job. Thank you. :)

Date: 2005-06-15 01:28 pm (UTC)
ext_6382: Blue-toned picture of cow with inquisitive expression (Default)
From: [identity profile] bravecows.livejournal.com
Awww! This is lovely, and the voice is awesome.

Date: 2005-07-20 12:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rosamundeb.livejournal.com
Catching up here...

Haven't read any Psmith, but I thought it sounded great! *S*

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