The Tub

[pickthisone.livejournal.com]

Title: The Tub
Pairing: Jeeves/Bertie
Rating: R...just to be safe. A bit smutty, I'm afraid. A wee angsty? For the perfume of a moment, and no more.
Summary: Jeeves gets slightly drunk, and something odd happens in relation to a tub. Not that odd, though, I'm afraid. I know what you're thinking, and I wish I'd thought of it earlier.
Disclaimer:  Don't own no Jeeves nor no Bertie. I do however, own a tub. It's a spa tub. I don't go in it often because it's quite expensive to fill it up with hot water. So I usually shower. Just in case you talk about tubs in your comment.
Note: This is my first fanfic I've ever been vaguely confident enough to put forward for the general public. So do be forgiving; it's not really very intellectual, and perhaps not very Wodehouseian I'm afraid. Oh dear, this sounds dreadful by this description. But do give it a go, I'll be quite grateful. All mistakes I take upon myself.

Tubby, Tubby Tub Tub! I love that word.

 

Jeeves sighed contentedly as he reclined into his small bed in his small room. It was high on nine o’clock, and his gentleman, Mr. Wooster, was out attending his many chums at the Drones Club. His return was not scheduled shortly, by Jeeves’ calculation, so in his own hospitable solitude he had offered himself a glass of wine. And ordinary one, no doubt – for though only a gentleman’s gentleman, Jeeves liked to own the sentiment of a gentleman, and not invade his employer’s more expensive examples of wine. As a rather fine example of the modern valet, Jeeves liked to uphold the social codes of his day. And he achieved this – well, nearly.

Jeeves placed his glass on his bedside table, and pondered a moment. He eyes strayed across his room and then back to his glass. His eyes fixed upon it with undue concern, and anyone who would’ve looked in would’ve sworn the look he bore was one excited by the sight of a mortal enemy. It might be assumed, by that very same viewer, that the contents of the glass were the object subject to his ferocious gaze. But what really struck Jeeves was his reflection. He saw a tentative secret in his very eyes, in the way his nose sloped, quivering upon his philtrum, and after a moment or two he shivered, averting his gaze. Most ridiculous. No one else saw it. And why shouldn’t Jeeves enjoy himself with some wine once in a while? Jeeves was a man of control, after all. A small amount wouldn’t go amiss. His small secret would be safe. And having assured himself as such, Jeeves commenced a rather slow, but ultimately progressive inebriation.

He continued back and forth from the kitchen, pouring himself glass after glass, with more and more absent thought, his mind concentrating on his secret. A secret he would surely have to bear to the grave because if anyone knew – well; only the prison wardens would know what would become of him. The great Jeeves, the respectable, the inimitable, in such sharp descent, bring not only shame to himself but shame to his employer. And all such, all such dreadful things for that one spark of genuine emotion and passion within Jeeves’ very chest. Wasn’t something like that supposed to be sacred? Wasn’t that supposed that supposed to be the most wholesome?

 

Jeeves sighed and took another, but rather exaggerated sip of wine, and allowing it to wet his throat, like a gentle wave crashing over his heart in the tide of his emotion. It was the sharp outline of man which haunted Jeeves – or perhaps that was the wrong word. It was more like he pleasantly meandered about his mind. That was, when Jeeves was attending to that man. When he wasn’t dressing him, the poor man who looked so charming but suffered from a severe case of sartorial ineloquence, mixing this man’s b. and s., preparing his bath, serving his meals, saving him from the feared and malicious macabre of matrimony, and heaven forbid – even helping him undress on the odd occasion. Jeeves blushed suddenly, whether because of the great quantity of wine he had consumed, or whether because he was witnessing the form of Wooster’s shapely disrobed figure, in his own picture-perfect memory, was not immediately clear. Perhaps Wooster wasn’t a man of mind, wasn’t a man who dressed well on his own accord, but Jeeves, why, Jeeves would do anything for him. Absolutely anything. Even if one night, Wooster came home, undid his belt, removed his trousers and demanded Jeeves to place his contrastingly soft mouth on Mr. Wooster’s very own –

 

Jeeves frowned and shook his head. It wasn’t to be, and there was no good thinking about it like that. If he admitted that he loved Mr. Wooster (and perhaps after several glasses of wine it was time he did) perhaps he should just be content to be in such close vicinity to him day after day. So near that amiable face, those beautiful and gentle eyes, that thin body he wouldn’t being draped across Jeeves’ own, holding him in a close embrace, close enough to smell his scent, to taste his lips…

 

Jeeves sighed again, but now in a lovely tone, as though a deep inner joy wished to escape and declare itself. With a smile playing on his lips – something rare indeed – the image he had procured inside his own mind was so clear cut he felt no need to regret what was never to be. In a drunken absenteeism of mind, he left his room and poured himself into the bathroom, for some inexplicably unclear reason.

 

*********

 

When the Wooster corpus made it’s way back to his residence in what was certainly to be considered the earlier hours of the morning, he was slightly miffed by Jeeves’ absence. Upon entering and crying, “What ho, Jeeves!” and receiving no response was most peculiar. He frowned, and while not put out of his amiability, he felt distinctly disgruntled. Wooster wanted to divulge some information on his wondrously musical night – and astound Jeeves by this Wooster’s most accomplished sobriety. He wandered through his rooms, occasionally calling out for Jeeves. Finding the kitchen, the dining room, even Jeeves’ own room empty, he began to worry as he continued his selective search. Why on Earth would his abode be without a Jeeves? It wasn’t Jeeves’ night off, was it? No, Jeeves always reminded him of that. D—ed good valet, Jeeves was, if Bertie had any reason to say so. Always impeccably dressed, always so bally well excellent in the brain exertion department, though he could be most irritating in the way he tried to make custom to Wooster’s attire all the time. But all in all, he was as well as any excellent valet, and a house without a Jeeves must be a very sad one indeed, he thought. Most certainly. But my, a dear old thought had just occurred to Bertram. He not managed to neglect the inspection of the bathroom – why Jeeves would be in there at this time of night (or morning, if you will) he couldn’t imagine. But if it solved this perplexing mystery…

 

Bertram opened the door slowly, peering into the room, which was surprisingly lit. Within, he saw something which caused him to start slightly, for there was indeed a Jeeves within the confines of the room. A figure was currently laid limp within Bertram’s bathtub. Not a bathtub he shared, mind you. In genuine anger, Bertram began to form the words, “Well I do say!” when something struck him about the figure. It was not the smiling construct one would expect to see in a tub, nor was it a particularly lively corpus in any sense. Indeed, if Bertram didn’t know any better, he’d say his prized valet was slumped unconscious, with a distinctly pallid appearance, and definitely lacking the usual pallor of his cheeks.

 

Wooster jumped forward, panicking slightly. He started to attempt to wake Jeeves, by the simple gesture of shaking and prodding him. In was in this process that he realised how remarkably cold Jeeves’ skin was. Placing his hand on this forehead, he confirmed this, and then placing it in the water, he realised that both had been cold for quite a long while.

“Dear God!” exclaimed Wooster. He reached into the water for Jeeves’ pulse and found it to be existent, which was certainly a good sign. Wooster knew he had to remove the body, but shuddered to think how. And as he thought about the nudity of Jeeves, a brief blush appeared upon his cheeks. Brief, because he realised that action was essential in this situation. He plunged his hands into the water, and attempted to lumber up the body, only realizing how heavy the average human body actually is. Bertram’s weak arms clasped around the silent figure’s, while the rest of Bertram winced at the cold. He tried several approaches, before realizing there was only one option left. He was bally well going to have to hold this masculine body in his arms like his Aunt Agatha had hoped he would bear any of his ex-fiancées over the threshold and into the realms of matrimony. He was going to have to lift him like he might hold a small babe. Not that this Wooster had ever done such. But dear God, no one was meant to hold a grown man like that. Were they?

 

With a slight wince, he plunged his arm into the water for the last time (he was wet enough by this point not to truly consider this as an inconvenience) and reached to clasp Jeeves around that upon which Jeeves sat.  His other arm was poised beneath his back. Bertram raised the body from the water, with the accompanying sound of falling water, which sounded dead heroic. But by Jingo! How heavy the man was! And how tremendously – a blush joining the thought – naked! Oh dear, where to place this Jeeves? This dreadfully cold, still unconscious, shamefully nude Jeeves? Wooster stumbled out of the room, wishing he’d had the brains to think this through. He decided the most comfortable and warm place in the entire residence would be his bed, and he grabbed a towel before leaving the bathroom and walked steadily to his own room. Rather indelicately, he placed the corpus on the bed. Wooster’s next course of action was, of course, to cover Jeeves in blankets, but was struck but how cold those blankets were. Well, sure, bodies do warm up the blankets eventually, but what if you’re as cold as Jeeves? Surely it’d be better to get something warmer onto his body? But where to get such?

 

“Aha!” spoke Bertram out loud, and promptly took off his jacket, and unbuttoned his shirt. It wasn’t going to fit Jeeves particularly well, but they were just going to keep the poor man warm. It’d be nice to dress Jeeves for once, after all the times Jeeves had helped with his morning ablutions. His only intention to was to spread the warmth. Just spread the warmth…

 

Sitting the cold Jeeves up, Bertram began sliding the limp hands, then arms, through the sleeves. Drawing it around his body, he picked up the jacket and did similar. He looked down to admire his handiwork. Why, Mr. Wooster had quite a hand at this dressing business! However, when his eyes trailed down to Jeeves’ lower half, he noted the daring nakedness of it. Jeeves’ manservant laying between those, well, Wooster would dare to say surprisingly smooth-looking legs – like alabaster. He felt an odd urge to stroke them – well, Jeeves would never know. And bally hell, hadn’t Wooster done him a good turn already? Just a harmless, fanciful whim…

The first touch was more of a gentle poke. Bertram checked that there was no response. The skin was still abnormally cold. Well, wouldn’t it be good to rub them, then? Yes, it would do well, and with that assurance, Wooster, started to do the very act.

 

So cold, so smooth…well, the coldness was off-putting, but he was getting warmer. What an odd fancy this was! But productive, and good, and beneficial…and then the appendage between Jeeves’ legs began to unsettlingly fascinate Bertram. Surely he’d seen enough of these things before, but not for a long while. Though that was a good thing, surely. And then at the worst possible moment, Jeeves’ voice rang through the still night air.

“Sir?”

Wooster looked up from his avid gaze at Jeeves’ genitalia, feeling bizarrely out of place.

“W-well, Jeeves…just, well, you know. Warming up your legs!”

He began to rub his hands along Jeeves’ legs enthusiastically. Jeeves, instead of objecting to this strange practice, merely flushed. He opened his mouth to speak, but obviously thought better of it, for he closed his mouth. And oddly, a grin appeared.

“Jeeves? Are you quite alright? Your face looks a bit odd.”

“Oh, this? I’m merely grinning, sir.”

“Jeeves…you never grin. And what were you doing in my bathtub, by the by?”

“I was in your bathtub? Oh my.”

“Yes, you bally were, Jeeves! You fainted in my bathtub! I’d like an explanation!”

Jeeves shifted awkwardly.

“I’m afraid I must’ve…I drank a bit too much, I’m afraid, sir. But I must ask an explanation as well…why is my lower half naked?”

Wooster blushed furiously.

“Well, I had to get you out of the bathtub myself – “

“That would explain the wetness, sir.”

“Yes, don’t interrupt, Jeeves.”

“Can’t I, sir? Can’t I interrupt with one thing, sir?”

Wooster looked surprised at his valet, who had decided to sit up so he could look at his gentleman all the clearer.

“You’re so distracting, sir…”

Wooster froze. What was this turning into? Where was Jeeves going?

“I’m very sorry, sir. I have to say this, though I can hardly say why. I…well, I’ve known for a long time…”

And for some reason, Bertram found himself reaching forward his hand and placing it on Jeeves. It just felt right, impulse more than conscious thought.

Jeeves looked up, hopefully.

“Oh, sir…”

And suddenly, Bertram found himself a member of a rather unexpectedly passionate kiss. Jeeves clasped the Wooster’s head, hands combing through his hair, tonguing his way deep into Bertram’s mouth. Bertram was too shocked to respond except by opening his mouth wider and wider, which Jeeves took to mean more and more of an invitation.

When they drew away, Bertram was surprised to see something weak and painfully needy, yet also shockingly and irrevocably alive.

“Sir…” Jeeves whispered, “Sir, do you…”

“No! No! No! What? No! What…Jeeves…Did we just..kiss?”

The first part of his speech was firm denial, the second suspended belief.

“I believe we did, sir.”

“Well, golly. Jeeves, are we allowed to do that?”

“I don’t believe society smiles on it, sir.”

“Golly. Well. Boy.” He still appeared lost for words. A small spasm was seen to cross Jeeves’ face.

“I love you, sir.”

“You love me?”

“Yes. I’m afraid I do. I know after my behaviour tonight,” Jeeves faltered slightly, but quickly regained his professional manner, “I cannot stay as your valet any longer. But…I want you to know that.”

“You cannot…Hang on, Jeeves! Why should I send you away?”

“Because I’m exposed myself as an invert, sir.”

“Well! I can’t go firing your for being an invert! I mean…I think I…I might be one of them too.”

“What makes you think so, sir?”

“I think I love your legs.”

Jeeves frowned slightly.

“Sir?”

“Yes. Well, you know how you’re in love with me? Well, I think I’m in love with your legs. They’re just like alabaster, Jeeves! Just like it!”

“I hope you wouldn’t mind loving more of me than that, sir.”

Wooster let out a jolly laugh.

“I’m sure I could manage that…”

And his fixated his head slightly toward the what was found between Jeeves’ legs…

 

Comments

[soul-bonnie.livejournal.com]

...
...
Okay, that's the story you're vaguely confident about?
ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? WHERE IS THE REST OF YOUR STORIES, GIMME GIMME GIMME!!!!

[pickthisone.livejournal.com]

Oh dear! xD I'll have to get through some more, I suppose, if I achieved such a reaction...
Might be a while, though, I'm actually in the middle of exams, and though this was tremendous fun I should start avoiding distractions. But I promise you, there will be more.

[storyfan.livejournal.com]

Firstly, this fandom is thick with smuthounds so don't apologize for it being smutty.

Secondly, this is a wonderful first effort. It has a dreamlike quality, especially when we're in Jeeves's tipsy brain. The final conversation is very Wodehousian, so no worries there. The only thing I would recommend, and it's very minor, is to not use Bertie's slang when you're in Jeeves's head — words such as "chums" or shortenings such as "B&S." Of course, if he's imagining Bertie's speech, then that's a different thing altogether.

I very much like the phrase "hospitable solitude." It's catchy.

[pickthisone.livejournal.com]

Yes, thank you, I'll keep the slang in mind. Must read more Wodehouse so I get a grip on it, I suppose.
Indeed! Isn't it just? I owe it all to being slightly manic when I wrote the first part. I guess it works as good inspiration.

[ataratah.livejournal.com]

That was adorable! I love Bertie's odd way of coming around to understanding his own feelings. <3

[the-archandroid.livejournal.com]

This definitely made me smile so much, i love Bertie's preoccupation w. Jeeves' gams, and I love drunken jeeves, I didn't know I needed drunken jeeves in my life 'till JUST this moment, so many many thanks!

[pickthisone.livejournal.com]

You're very, very welcome. I love the idea of drunken Jeeves. I got the idea from another fanfic, I admit, but yes...it's a grand device, and I recommend it strongly.

...AAAAAAAND!?

[gunitneko.livejournal.com]

"And his fixated his head slightly toward the what was found between Jeeves’ legs…"
....AND!?

You STOPPED!? HOW DARE YOU! Finish this!

Re: ...AAAAAAAND!?

[pickthisone.livejournal.com]

For you, I shall. Just in possibly a few weeks because I have exams :\
Reason I didn't go through with it was because I was worried about whether this was any good to start with. But...I think I shall.

[chocolate-frapp.livejournal.com]

I love this!

[dogwoodblossom.livejournal.com]

I was grinning through most of that. I love Jeeve's thought process as he gets sloshed. And then Bertie coming home so pleased with himself that he's remained sober.

[mellifluous-gel.livejournal.com]

A very good first effort! It was a little odd seeing the Wodehousian slang in third person, but I c'n dig it. Other than that and needing a bit of beta love, this is great! Very cute and don't worry about the smut. There're R and NC-17 rating tags for a reason, eh? ;) Still newish m'self, so I'll say welcome to the club and thanks so much for sharing! You had some really nice little turns of phrase in this. The "malicious macabre of matrimony" really stood out to me. *thumbs up* Looking forward to more thingummies from you.

[pickthisone.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much indeed. Yes, I'm not sure why I chose third person but it just felt right. Yeah, I probably need one of those beta-things...never had one. Aware of their existence and what-not, but never had one. I think I've seen you around - you're writing a fanfic about a missing manuscript? I was going to read that, but then I was worried I'd get spoiled because I haven't actually read that particular Agatha Christie. I might have to go buy it expressly for the purpose.
But thank you once again. :]

[mellifluous-gel.livejournal.com]

Yes, my first fic! And don't worry about spoilers there aren't any except for the names of a few characters. =) Betas are around. So far as I understand it, they're just editor types. I've had erynn999 look over a few of the chapters for my fic just to make sure they're on track. You can post messages looking for betas, I believe. Everyone seems nice enough here to help you out if you ask nicely. I'd offer my own services, but I'm a bit swamped with real-world stuffs at the moment.

[lilyv687.livejournal.com]

“Jeeves? Are you quite alright? Your face looks a bit odd.”
“Oh, this? I’m merely grinning, sir.”
“Jeeves…you never grin. And what were you doing in my bathtub, by the by?”
“I was in your bathtub? Oh my.”
and
“I think I love your legs.”
Best. Lines. EVER.
I was having quite a bad day actually, but you and your brilliant fic just turned it right around. Thanks! XD

[pickthisone.livejournal.com]

Oh, I'm so glad you enjoyed it so much! I rather liked the idea of the legs, too. It seemed awfully silly, but...legs are pretty cool, really. I'm quite fond of legs.
But thank you very much, I hope the happiness continues to radiate :]

[trista-zevkia.livejournal.com]

This was lovely, and I thought pretty spot on character wise, but I'm pretty new here myself. One thing kind of jumped out at me, the paragraph were Bertie is hauling Jeeves to the bathroom. If you're going with a Fry and Laurie body type, which I tend to do cause I saw them before I read the books, it's kind of hard to imagine Bertie being able to pick him up and carry him to the bed, even stopping on the way to grab a towel. But that could just be me.
It is a lovely little plot device, it's even over on the kink meme, if you know about all that. It is a good story, well written and I enjoyed it!

[pickthisone.livejournal.com]

Yess...I got the idea from the kink meme, how did you know?! I love that thing! It's so dandy! Unfortunately, I'm not over 18...so I cannot participate, according to the rules. ]:
Ah yes. I haven't actually read the books, but I thought, 'well, what if it turns out Jeeves' body size in the book is actually comparatively less than with the tv show?' But yes, the towel might be quite a stretch, I agree, even with that...but I didn't want to make Bertie's bed wet. That would be dreadful!
But thank you, nonetheless!

[trista-zevkia.livejournal.com]

Well, if it only stuck out to me, ignore me.
I knew it was on the kink meme b/c I was working on my own version of Drunk Jeeves.
Hope to hear more from you!

[yumany.livejournal.com]

“Sir…” Jeeves whispered, “Sir, do you…”
“No! No! No! What? No! What…Jeeves…Did we just..kiss?”
“I believe we did, sir.”
“Well, golly. Jeeves, are we allowed to do that?”
“I don’t believe society smiles on it, sir.”

Jeeves is a helpful mentor in every sit. :)
Very funny. Keep writing.

[triedunture.livejournal.com]

Oh this was just WONDROUS. Some wording seemed a little strange, or was perhaps missing an "it" or "was" in places, but it was barely noticeable next to the very distinct and enjoyable style. I think someone said dreamy?

I love "the accompanying sound of falling water, which sounded dead heroic"; it was so Bertie and so not at the same time to notice something like that, and I think it worked 3rd person very well.

I LOOK UPON YOUR FUTURE CAREER WITH CONSIDERABLE INTEREST. :D