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indeedsir_backup2010-10-01 01:19 am
hazeltea.livejournal.com) wrote in indeedsir_backup2010-10-01 01:19 am
Fic: Redempion, part 12 (R)
This has been rattling around in my brain since I read Yours, Plum: The Letters of P.G. Wodehouse a few years ago.I wanted to try continuing the 1953 fanfic by J. Maclaren-Ross , which was lovingly trascribed here by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chaoticchaos13
Pairing:Jeeves/Bertie
Disclaimer: I make no profit from the lovely world of Wodehouse.
Part 1: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/849688.html#cutid1
Part 2: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/851698.html#cutid1
Part 3: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/853433.html#cutid1
Part 4: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/854770.html#cutid1
Part 5: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/856387.html#cutid1
Part 6: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/861280.html#cutid1
Part 7: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/864721.html#cutid1
Part 8: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/867046.html#cutid1
Part 9: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/870100.html#cutid1
Part 10: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/871794.html#cutid1
Part 11: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/875432.html#cutid1
I froze, unable to speak. Jeeves, as usual, had his stuffed frog façade in place. Just a moment now until he called me “Wooster” in a stern tone, or worse, “Mr. Wooster”, a title which, when directly spoken to me, meant that we were to part on terms not so jolly. I backed against the desk, and opened my mouth. It was as though it were full of cotton balls. “M’Lord.” I managed. “I’m sorry.” I was shaking.
“One wonders what you have to be sorry for.” He continued. “Tell me, sir, what has happened?”
He’d called me ‘sir’. I felt a flicker of hope in my chest, and the first brace of fear was gone, but my stomach was still in knots. He placed a hand on my shoulder, and led me into the kitchen. Soon, I was sitting, a glass of iced water pressed to my lips. I hesitated to answer. Of course I wanted more than anything to blurt the entire bally mess out, but the truth had thorns, in this case. How could I even begin to explain? “I’m sorry.” I croaked, miserably. “Please, don’t ask me why.”
His expression was rum, cold and a bit disapproving and I recalled the times when the Rev. Aubrey Upjohn at Malvern House would call me into his study and tell me how disappointed in me he was, while I squirmed and wished that he’d just hurry up and give me a few whacks of the cane so that I could dash off.
“Sir, after so many years, do you not consider me to be your ally?”
The rummy expression became clearer, as I saw the twinge of hurt in it. “No! I mean, yes, dash it! It’s … it’s just…”
“I realize that you have lost faith in me, sir-“
“No!” I cried out. “I haven’t, not in the least. It’s just that I don’t want you to leave-“ my voice cracked, and I swallowed.
“I shall never leave you again, sir.” His eyes were dark with a resentment that I had not seen before.
I considered it. If the truth made him loathe my touch, at least I could still stay near him. It was better than what I’d had before, and certainly better than when I had convinced myself of his death. Shame overtook me as I began, lowering my eyes.
“Stiffy wanted me to find the dirt, so to speak, on Lord Farthington. I tried to say no.” I sounded pathetic.
“I see, sir.” He prodded, gently. “What had the lady to coerce you with?”
“I- I can’t. I’m sorry.” I’d lost my nerve, so quickly it was a wonder I’d ever had it in my grasp at all. My dreams of being his were slipping away. I set my jaw, determined not to show just how sorely I felt it. His hand closed over mine. It was too much.
“You’ll be disgusted.” I added, defensively.
“Sir, there is nothing about you that I could ever be disgusted by.”
The dread inside me was overwhelming. Just a few hard cracks of the cane, Wooster. Get it over with. “I’ve taken men to bed. For money.” I replied, terse and bold. I waited for my world to collapse. I wished that he’d order me out, or hit me. Instead, he drew in his breath, sharply, and radiated a cool, piercing rage from his eyes. It was unbearable. I looked away.
“I’ve done filthy things, you see. Most boys grow out of it, but I never did. I did it for comfort at first, but then, I needed some money, and I took charity. Often. Some of the Drones.” My ears were burning with shame.
Silence, still, from Jeeves. “Stiffy doesn’t know what I’ve done with her husband. I felt… that I owed her something. I didn’t want to betray you. I hoped you’d never know. I’m helpless and hopeless, but I’m not a lamb, like you think. I deceived you, and then I abused your trust. I can’t thank you enough for… for everything. I’ll go if you like, but I’d rather stay. I’d stay on you know, without pay even, just board, and … please, please say something. Hit me, if you like. Or fuck me,” I added, bitterness making me spit out the crude word, “I owe you everything.”
He had never been quite so inhumanly silent, or so frighteningly menacing. “M’lord?” I ventured, after several long minutes.
“Do not call me that. Not while we are alone.” He exhaled, seeming as though he’d held his breath in this entire time. “I have killed, sir, in the Great War. I have willingly taken life. Does that disgust you?”
“Well, no.” I managed. “War is a different thing altogether. I mean, it’s a terrible thing, but you can’t help it, loyalty to the crown and all that.”
“I wish to kill now, sir, the men who have used your body and your kindness, so selfishly and thoughtlessly. I wish to choke the life from them.” He took several more deep breaths. “That desire for blood is far worse of a sin than a man desperate for a meal and a night of passion. I left my post to fight for you, and in doing so, I threw you to the dogs. I will never leave you again, sir. I would sooner perish than raise my hand to you in anger. I will most certainly not force you to my bed. Ever, sir.” His ordinarily strong, soothing voice shook with quiet rage.
“Jeeves, I… I want it.” I whispered.
His face was resting in his hand, and he peered at me worriedly though splayed fingers. The table between us was an unbearable barrier.
“I will not allow it.”
Well, what does one say to that? “ Last night, you know, that was quite topping. I’d always wanted to kiss you, you know. Not just because you’re a handsome chap. I don’t know if you know, if you could have ever guessed, but I’ve always rather loved you.” I traced the wet ring the glass had made on the table with my finger.
“That is more than I could ever have hoped.” His voice was softer again, soothing. “I knew of your nature, sir. The area between mattress and box spring is not an entirely original hiding place.”
I grew red as a tomato. “That… er…”
“I will admit that I had always harbored ambitions of seducing you, sir. I have loved you, quite ardently, for many years. I did not dare imagine the sentiment returned.”
I stared at him, dazed. “I wish you’d have stopped this courtly love wheeze years ago, you know. I want you to touch me.”
“Your touch is not a commodity.” He countered.
“Jeeves!”
“Would you accept a kiss in lieu, sir?”
I fumed. “A dozen kisses.”
“Very good, sir.” He offered me his hand, and I took it. I swayed towards the bedroom, but he soundly steered me towards the chesterfield, and kissed me, quite soundly. I rested my head in his lap, and he began to stroke my hair.
“Why does Mrs. Pinker need this information, sir?”
I closed my eyes, savoring the light brush of his fingertips. “Lord Farthington promised the parish money, and didn’t ante up. She wants to find something unseemly to get him to.”
He was quiet for a moment. “You may tell her that the information which you found was quite dry and unsuited to her inquiries, sir, but you might also allude to the fact that he has a notorious reputation for gambling. It is information that might be acquired from any number of sources, and while still common knowledge, it may shame him enough to open his purse.”
I sighed. “Jeeves, you are a marvel."
He leaned to kiss me, just above my eye, and I shifted, pressing my open mouth to his lips. I wondered exactly what Jeeves had to do with this Lord Farthington, but I was more interested in tempting him.
I made certain to extract a baker’s dozen kisses from him before dinner.
chaoticchaos13 Pairing:Jeeves/Bertie
Disclaimer: I make no profit from the lovely world of Wodehouse.
Part 1: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/849688.html#cutid1
Part 2: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/851698.html#cutid1
Part 3: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/853433.html#cutid1
Part 4: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/854770.html#cutid1
Part 5: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/856387.html#cutid1
Part 6: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/861280.html#cutid1
Part 7: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/864721.html#cutid1
Part 8: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/867046.html#cutid1
Part 9: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/870100.html#cutid1
Part 10: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/871794.html#cutid1
Part 11: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/875432.html#cutid1
I froze, unable to speak. Jeeves, as usual, had his stuffed frog façade in place. Just a moment now until he called me “Wooster” in a stern tone, or worse, “Mr. Wooster”, a title which, when directly spoken to me, meant that we were to part on terms not so jolly. I backed against the desk, and opened my mouth. It was as though it were full of cotton balls. “M’Lord.” I managed. “I’m sorry.” I was shaking.
“One wonders what you have to be sorry for.” He continued. “Tell me, sir, what has happened?”
He’d called me ‘sir’. I felt a flicker of hope in my chest, and the first brace of fear was gone, but my stomach was still in knots. He placed a hand on my shoulder, and led me into the kitchen. Soon, I was sitting, a glass of iced water pressed to my lips. I hesitated to answer. Of course I wanted more than anything to blurt the entire bally mess out, but the truth had thorns, in this case. How could I even begin to explain? “I’m sorry.” I croaked, miserably. “Please, don’t ask me why.”
His expression was rum, cold and a bit disapproving and I recalled the times when the Rev. Aubrey Upjohn at Malvern House would call me into his study and tell me how disappointed in me he was, while I squirmed and wished that he’d just hurry up and give me a few whacks of the cane so that I could dash off.
“Sir, after so many years, do you not consider me to be your ally?”
The rummy expression became clearer, as I saw the twinge of hurt in it. “No! I mean, yes, dash it! It’s … it’s just…”
“I realize that you have lost faith in me, sir-“
“No!” I cried out. “I haven’t, not in the least. It’s just that I don’t want you to leave-“ my voice cracked, and I swallowed.
“I shall never leave you again, sir.” His eyes were dark with a resentment that I had not seen before.
I considered it. If the truth made him loathe my touch, at least I could still stay near him. It was better than what I’d had before, and certainly better than when I had convinced myself of his death. Shame overtook me as I began, lowering my eyes.
“Stiffy wanted me to find the dirt, so to speak, on Lord Farthington. I tried to say no.” I sounded pathetic.
“I see, sir.” He prodded, gently. “What had the lady to coerce you with?”
“I- I can’t. I’m sorry.” I’d lost my nerve, so quickly it was a wonder I’d ever had it in my grasp at all. My dreams of being his were slipping away. I set my jaw, determined not to show just how sorely I felt it. His hand closed over mine. It was too much.
“You’ll be disgusted.” I added, defensively.
“Sir, there is nothing about you that I could ever be disgusted by.”
The dread inside me was overwhelming. Just a few hard cracks of the cane, Wooster. Get it over with. “I’ve taken men to bed. For money.” I replied, terse and bold. I waited for my world to collapse. I wished that he’d order me out, or hit me. Instead, he drew in his breath, sharply, and radiated a cool, piercing rage from his eyes. It was unbearable. I looked away.
“I’ve done filthy things, you see. Most boys grow out of it, but I never did. I did it for comfort at first, but then, I needed some money, and I took charity. Often. Some of the Drones.” My ears were burning with shame.
Silence, still, from Jeeves. “Stiffy doesn’t know what I’ve done with her husband. I felt… that I owed her something. I didn’t want to betray you. I hoped you’d never know. I’m helpless and hopeless, but I’m not a lamb, like you think. I deceived you, and then I abused your trust. I can’t thank you enough for… for everything. I’ll go if you like, but I’d rather stay. I’d stay on you know, without pay even, just board, and … please, please say something. Hit me, if you like. Or fuck me,” I added, bitterness making me spit out the crude word, “I owe you everything.”
He had never been quite so inhumanly silent, or so frighteningly menacing. “M’lord?” I ventured, after several long minutes.
“Do not call me that. Not while we are alone.” He exhaled, seeming as though he’d held his breath in this entire time. “I have killed, sir, in the Great War. I have willingly taken life. Does that disgust you?”
“Well, no.” I managed. “War is a different thing altogether. I mean, it’s a terrible thing, but you can’t help it, loyalty to the crown and all that.”
“I wish to kill now, sir, the men who have used your body and your kindness, so selfishly and thoughtlessly. I wish to choke the life from them.” He took several more deep breaths. “That desire for blood is far worse of a sin than a man desperate for a meal and a night of passion. I left my post to fight for you, and in doing so, I threw you to the dogs. I will never leave you again, sir. I would sooner perish than raise my hand to you in anger. I will most certainly not force you to my bed. Ever, sir.” His ordinarily strong, soothing voice shook with quiet rage.
“Jeeves, I… I want it.” I whispered.
His face was resting in his hand, and he peered at me worriedly though splayed fingers. The table between us was an unbearable barrier.
“I will not allow it.”
Well, what does one say to that? “ Last night, you know, that was quite topping. I’d always wanted to kiss you, you know. Not just because you’re a handsome chap. I don’t know if you know, if you could have ever guessed, but I’ve always rather loved you.” I traced the wet ring the glass had made on the table with my finger.
“That is more than I could ever have hoped.” His voice was softer again, soothing. “I knew of your nature, sir. The area between mattress and box spring is not an entirely original hiding place.”
I grew red as a tomato. “That… er…”
“I will admit that I had always harbored ambitions of seducing you, sir. I have loved you, quite ardently, for many years. I did not dare imagine the sentiment returned.”
I stared at him, dazed. “I wish you’d have stopped this courtly love wheeze years ago, you know. I want you to touch me.”
“Your touch is not a commodity.” He countered.
“Jeeves!”
“Would you accept a kiss in lieu, sir?”
I fumed. “A dozen kisses.”
“Very good, sir.” He offered me his hand, and I took it. I swayed towards the bedroom, but he soundly steered me towards the chesterfield, and kissed me, quite soundly. I rested my head in his lap, and he began to stroke my hair.
“Why does Mrs. Pinker need this information, sir?”
I closed my eyes, savoring the light brush of his fingertips. “Lord Farthington promised the parish money, and didn’t ante up. She wants to find something unseemly to get him to.”
He was quiet for a moment. “You may tell her that the information which you found was quite dry and unsuited to her inquiries, sir, but you might also allude to the fact that he has a notorious reputation for gambling. It is information that might be acquired from any number of sources, and while still common knowledge, it may shame him enough to open his purse.”
I sighed. “Jeeves, you are a marvel."
He leaned to kiss me, just above my eye, and I shifted, pressing my open mouth to his lips. I wondered exactly what Jeeves had to do with this Lord Farthington, but I was more interested in tempting him.
I made certain to extract a baker’s dozen kisses from him before dinner.
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Thank you. Poor boys. They really do need each other, more than they realize.
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Ohhh, ohhh, finally... *wipes teary eyes*
I'm probably just too sleepy to figure it out, but I can't decide if Jeeves is refusing him fully or only temporarily... otherwise, why the smoochies? I'll have to reread when I'm less dain bramaged.
But I'm still enjoying it... gosh! How well you're portraying them! <3
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It's telling that I'm as duped/ devalued/ depressed at Bertie that I expect anger and rejection at every corner, even though Jeeves has not given any indication WHATSOEVER in this story that he would do that our poor bertie.
“Your touch is not a commodity.” He countered. And here our jeevesey- poo <-- am well aware that i am like the only person in the world who refers to him as such -- measures up to, and even exceeds the required standard. He again proves himself to be a man of more honor and integrity than Stinker or any of the drones. And when he says this he is slowly trying to bring Bertie to a more healthy sense of himself, and until Bertie is there he is not going to indulge in sexy times (much to my CHAGRIN!!) so that Bertie doesn't feel like he's doing it 'cause he's compelled or because he owes jeeves anything. That they do it of their own free will.
But oh how i adore:
bertie's efforts, a bakers dozen of kisses... *swooooooonnnn-uh*
Chesterfield snugglage
Jeeves' insta-problem solve
wonderful!
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Matters are going to get better now, aren't they?..
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This was lovely! Can't wait for more.
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Thank you!
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