Kinkmeme Fill: Jeeves in the Shower
May. 16th, 2011 08:13 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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indeedsir_backupTitle: Jeeves in the Shower
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
saylee
Pairing: Bertie/Jeeves
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1029
Warnings: PWP
Summary: In which Bertie barges in on Jeeves in the shower.
Disclaimer: I don't own it, and I'm not making any money off this. You know the drill.
Author's Notes: Written for the kinkmeme prompt: "We had stories about taking a bath, but what about taking a shower? - Jeeves/Bertie". Thank you to the lovelystoryfan for the beta job.
‘Jeeves! Jeeves? Dash it, man, where are you? Jeeves?’
Such was the sound of a distressed Bertram as I barged into Jeeves’s lair at six in the ack emma. Now, normally I am far too much of a preux chevalier to go bursting into my man’s private rooms at any time of day or night, but this was a bally emergency!
A quick scan of the small bedroom revealed plenty of books but no valets. A light was shining beneath the connecting bathroom door, however, and I could hear the hiss of running water.
‘Jeeves!’
In my panic, all common sense and notions of privacy fled, and I was through the bathroom door and flinging aside the shower curtain before the Wooster grey matter could catch up with the Wooster corpus.
‘Sir?’
Jeeves didn’t look the least surprised as he turned under the spray to face me. I, on the other hand, could only stare at him wide-eyed while my brain dribbled out my ears.
You must understand; a perfectly put together Jeeves in his valet togs is a sight to behold already, but a Jeeves in the altogether under the cascading water, dark hair plastered to his forehead and gleaming droplets sliding tantalizingly over his arms and chest and those strong thighs – my mouth went bone dry. He was as bronzed and fit as I had always imagined him to be, with the perfect amount of unobtrusive muscle, with a smattering of dark hair upon his chest, and more in a trail leading from his navel to his groin, where I noticed he was aroused. I swallowed. Had he been touching himself, pulling himself off, before I interrupted? The thought made me weak in the knees.
A cough drew my attention upwards, away from his unflagging erection to meet his gaze. My face felt as though it was beet red, and there was a charming flush of pink on my man’s cheeks, despite the look of amusement and thingness he was giving me.
‘May I be of assistance, sir?’
I blinked twice, feeling rather dazed.
‘You needed me for something, sir?’ he prompted.
‘Oh, er, yes,’ I babbled. ‘That is to say, I do. Need your help, that is. Not making any vows, or anything. Dashed silly notion. What was I saying?’ A drop of water was rolling down his jaw –faintly stubbled, I noted, because of course he hadn’t shaved yet – and I longed to catch it on my tongue.
‘You were saying you required my help, sir.’ That was my man, always so helpful and full of the feudal spirit, and bally gorgeous besides – I stopped that thought in its tracks.
‘Right. Right. That is to say, right. I’m really in the soup this time, Jeeves. Lady Florence wants to marry me again, only this time she had Aunt Agatha with her, and a priest, and they had the dratted marriage licence and were going to tie me down and make me sign it, only I slipped away – we Woosters are slippery like foxes, you know, though why a fox should be slippery I can’t imagine, unless someone had coated it in butter, which I shouldn’t think advisable, and I’m getting terribly off-track, aren’t I?’ It was hardly my fault. There he stood being all handsome and helpful and wet and Bertram’s brain took an extended holiday. His lip twitched upwards, but of course he couldn’t out and agree with me. I plowed onwards.
‘Anyway, there I was, being chased over hill and dale and brush and bracken like one of Aunt Dahlia’s foxes, when I thought of you and knew you could save me, which is when I woke up and came looking for you, and – and –' I petered out, horrified, ‘Oh Lord, it was a dream, wasn’t it?’
He made a sympathetic tsk-ing sound. ‘It would seem so, sir.’
‘Oh gosh,’ I muttered, covering my face with my hands and peeking out between my fingers. ‘Terribly sorry to have interrupted your shower, Jeeves.’
If the warm thingness in his ‘Not at all, sir’ hadn’t been enough to make me glance up at him in wide-eyed shock, the warm, wet fingers sliding over my cheek would have been. It took me barely a second of stunned immobility, staring into his dark eyes, before I was flinging myself, heliotrope pyjamas and all into his arms, kissing him madly beneath the spray. I had him pressed up against the tile wall, while he clutched at my buttocks with one hand and used the other to tear off the soaked silk of my clinging pyjama top, without even bothering with the buttons. Then there was a bead of water clinging to his nipple that I simply had to taste. He speared his fingers into my wet hair, groaning as I licked and sucked. When I made to sink to my knees, intent on drinking the warm water from the tempting length of his prick, his fingers tightened in my hair.
‘No, sir. Bertram, you’ll drown.’
Given the cascading water, this seemed like judicious advice. I allowed him to pull me to my feet and pin me against the wall with my hands over my head, his hips pressing against mine in an absolutely maddening way that had me throwing my head back and whimpering as he pressed sucking kisses down the length of my throat. He gave a little nibble and I was gone, spilling into my already sodden pyjama bottoms.
It was only the weight of his body pressed against mine that kept me upright, but despite my jellified knees, I managed to wriggle one hand free and reach down to take his prick in hand, the water making my strokes easy as he shuddered and nipped at my ear.
‘You’re so bally gorgeous like this,’ I whispered as he shook and came off, coating my hand.
After a long moment spent simply breathing heavily, we sank to the floor, exhausted. He stripped off my ruined bottoms, tossing them aside and pulling me into his arms. I rested my head against his shoulder as we simply sat and let the warm spray wash away the mess.
Author:
saylee Pairing: Bertie/Jeeves
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1029
Warnings: PWP
Summary: In which Bertie barges in on Jeeves in the shower.
Disclaimer: I don't own it, and I'm not making any money off this. You know the drill.
Author's Notes: Written for the kinkmeme prompt: "We had stories about taking a bath, but what about taking a shower? - Jeeves/Bertie". Thank you to the lovely
storyfan for the beta job.‘Jeeves! Jeeves? Dash it, man, where are you? Jeeves?’
Such was the sound of a distressed Bertram as I barged into Jeeves’s lair at six in the ack emma. Now, normally I am far too much of a preux chevalier to go bursting into my man’s private rooms at any time of day or night, but this was a bally emergency!
A quick scan of the small bedroom revealed plenty of books but no valets. A light was shining beneath the connecting bathroom door, however, and I could hear the hiss of running water.
‘Jeeves!’
In my panic, all common sense and notions of privacy fled, and I was through the bathroom door and flinging aside the shower curtain before the Wooster grey matter could catch up with the Wooster corpus.
‘Sir?’
Jeeves didn’t look the least surprised as he turned under the spray to face me. I, on the other hand, could only stare at him wide-eyed while my brain dribbled out my ears.
You must understand; a perfectly put together Jeeves in his valet togs is a sight to behold already, but a Jeeves in the altogether under the cascading water, dark hair plastered to his forehead and gleaming droplets sliding tantalizingly over his arms and chest and those strong thighs – my mouth went bone dry. He was as bronzed and fit as I had always imagined him to be, with the perfect amount of unobtrusive muscle, with a smattering of dark hair upon his chest, and more in a trail leading from his navel to his groin, where I noticed he was aroused. I swallowed. Had he been touching himself, pulling himself off, before I interrupted? The thought made me weak in the knees.
A cough drew my attention upwards, away from his unflagging erection to meet his gaze. My face felt as though it was beet red, and there was a charming flush of pink on my man’s cheeks, despite the look of amusement and thingness he was giving me.
‘May I be of assistance, sir?’
I blinked twice, feeling rather dazed.
‘You needed me for something, sir?’ he prompted.
‘Oh, er, yes,’ I babbled. ‘That is to say, I do. Need your help, that is. Not making any vows, or anything. Dashed silly notion. What was I saying?’ A drop of water was rolling down his jaw –faintly stubbled, I noted, because of course he hadn’t shaved yet – and I longed to catch it on my tongue.
‘You were saying you required my help, sir.’ That was my man, always so helpful and full of the feudal spirit, and bally gorgeous besides – I stopped that thought in its tracks.
‘Right. Right. That is to say, right. I’m really in the soup this time, Jeeves. Lady Florence wants to marry me again, only this time she had Aunt Agatha with her, and a priest, and they had the dratted marriage licence and were going to tie me down and make me sign it, only I slipped away – we Woosters are slippery like foxes, you know, though why a fox should be slippery I can’t imagine, unless someone had coated it in butter, which I shouldn’t think advisable, and I’m getting terribly off-track, aren’t I?’ It was hardly my fault. There he stood being all handsome and helpful and wet and Bertram’s brain took an extended holiday. His lip twitched upwards, but of course he couldn’t out and agree with me. I plowed onwards.
‘Anyway, there I was, being chased over hill and dale and brush and bracken like one of Aunt Dahlia’s foxes, when I thought of you and knew you could save me, which is when I woke up and came looking for you, and – and –' I petered out, horrified, ‘Oh Lord, it was a dream, wasn’t it?’
He made a sympathetic tsk-ing sound. ‘It would seem so, sir.’
‘Oh gosh,’ I muttered, covering my face with my hands and peeking out between my fingers. ‘Terribly sorry to have interrupted your shower, Jeeves.’
If the warm thingness in his ‘Not at all, sir’ hadn’t been enough to make me glance up at him in wide-eyed shock, the warm, wet fingers sliding over my cheek would have been. It took me barely a second of stunned immobility, staring into his dark eyes, before I was flinging myself, heliotrope pyjamas and all into his arms, kissing him madly beneath the spray. I had him pressed up against the tile wall, while he clutched at my buttocks with one hand and used the other to tear off the soaked silk of my clinging pyjama top, without even bothering with the buttons. Then there was a bead of water clinging to his nipple that I simply had to taste. He speared his fingers into my wet hair, groaning as I licked and sucked. When I made to sink to my knees, intent on drinking the warm water from the tempting length of his prick, his fingers tightened in my hair.
‘No, sir. Bertram, you’ll drown.’
Given the cascading water, this seemed like judicious advice. I allowed him to pull me to my feet and pin me against the wall with my hands over my head, his hips pressing against mine in an absolutely maddening way that had me throwing my head back and whimpering as he pressed sucking kisses down the length of my throat. He gave a little nibble and I was gone, spilling into my already sodden pyjama bottoms.
It was only the weight of his body pressed against mine that kept me upright, but despite my jellified knees, I managed to wriggle one hand free and reach down to take his prick in hand, the water making my strokes easy as he shuddered and nipped at my ear.
‘You’re so bally gorgeous like this,’ I whispered as he shook and came off, coating my hand.
After a long moment spent simply breathing heavily, we sank to the floor, exhausted. He stripped off my ruined bottoms, tossing them aside and pulling me into his arms. I rested my head against his shoulder as we simply sat and let the warm spray wash away the mess.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2011-05-16 12:43 pm (UTC)I love the way you describe Jeeves, just perfect! Makes me wish I had a man like that.
Thank you :3
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Date: 2011-05-16 05:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-16 03:39 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-05-16 04:21 pm (UTC)...Sorry. That's all. You seem to have rendered me speechless.
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Date: 2011-05-16 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-16 05:25 pm (UTC)I must say I feel a bit bad for Bertie's pyjamas, mind you... ;)
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Date: 2011-05-16 09:28 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-05-16 09:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-17 03:01 am (UTC)Lovely story--the perfect length! (Something I imagine Bertie thinks to himself in re: a certain Himself not infrequently...)
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Date: 2011-05-17 08:25 am (UTC)Great voices for both & JEEVES IN THE SHOWER!!!!!!!
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Date: 2011-05-17 11:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-18 09:35 am (UTC)1. Hot.
2. "jellified" = cute.
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Date: 2011-05-18 11:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-18 09:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-24 03:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-24 10:35 am (UTC)(plus it's an ingenious stance to pick up after the messiness of said hot sex. But I still stress the cuddles).