Fic: Too Close for Comfort
Oct. 1st, 2005 06:38 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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indeedsir_backupTitle: Too Close for Comfort
Pairing: Psmith/Mike
Rating: PG-13ish
Disclaimer: Psmith and Mike are not mine, they are Wodehouse's. This is strictly for amusement.
Notes: Written over the summer, during my lunch breaks; it is ridiculously long and irredeemably silly and owing to the former shall be posted in two parts.
Acknowledgments: Thanks very much to derien for the beta :)
Summary: Psmith and Mike are flirting with disaster.
Chapter 1
One does not generally think of a public school as a place with much privacy, but in fact when one has a study with a door that locks and afternoons of unsupervised archaeological field-work, there is little that one cannot manage. The latter happy circumstance had already served Mike well by providing him with an opportunity to play cricket; now, as his relationship with Psmith deepened into something quite unique in Mike's experience, both found the relaxed atmosphere of Outwood's a blessing.
Not every day, but generally several times a week, Mike found himself engaging in this new, sweet battle with Psmith. They necked in their study, they wrestled in the grass on Archaeological Society outings ("Awfully hard on the trousers," said Psmith sadly), and once, when Jellicoe was away at his aunt's for the week-end, Mike and Psmith spent the night together, in a cramped heap of limbs on Psmith's narrow bed. How pleasant it was to fall asleep to the sound of Psmith's steady breathing ... despite the fact that, due to the crowded conditions, Mike was obliged to do so several times throughout the night. And how very nice, too, to wake to Psmith's polite yet insistent kisses on his nose, forehead, cheeks ... There were moments Mike felt that he would die of being happy.
Of course, life was not entirely pleasant for them. The threat of detection was always present, and there were times when it made Mike very anxious indeed. His was a very open and honest nature, and to have to conceal this new secret was rather a drain on him emotionally. Mike wasn't sure exactly what would happen if they were found out, but he felt certain that it would be something very bad indeed. What made it worse was that Psmith, who could be positively Sphinx-like when he chose, seemed inclined to worry not a whit over the risk of discovery. In fact, he seemed to take a perverse pleasure in making Mike squirm. On more than one occasion Mike had been reduced to a bundle of nerves under Psmith's gaze in class, and as for meals, if Mike asked for something to be passed, it would inevitably be Psmith who passed it, taking care that their fingers brushed, which was itself enough to set Mike blushing and stammering like a bally girl. Which was disconcerting in itself because generally speaking these private dalliances were playful and masculine and essentially chaste. Mike would have been the first to admit that he was awfully fond of Psmith, but this hardly qualified him as a girl. It was only under the threat of being found out that Mike found himself behaving so foolishly.
They did have one or two rather close shaves. The first came after a rather grueling practice session with Adair. It was a very warm day, and everyone was glad to change out of his uniform. Mike had removed his jersey and trousers when he felt Psmith's gaze on him. He made the mistake of looking up, and was met with such a blatant look of desire that it nearly knocked him over.
Fortunately, the other boys were all too busy changing and chattering to notice anything was wrong, and the danger soon passed. Mike dressed hurriedly and escaped to the study, where, upon Psmith's arrival some few moments later, they kissed frantically, tugging ineffectually at one anther's clothing until they were gasping for breath.
To Mike, it felt like drowning.
The second disaster, coincidentally, also involved cricket. Since the affair of Sammy, the vermilion bull-terrier, Mr Downing had been, if not kind to Mike, at least a good deal less antagonistic. This was not out of any genuine warmth of feeling towards Mike, but rather a reluctance to appear foolish again. He still felt a bitterness towards him, and it rankled. Mr Downing was not the sort of man to let such a thing go. He was determined to get a bit of his own back.
His chance came one afternoon after a cricket match against the Sedleigh Old Boys' team. Mike had not had an ideal wicket, and his century was slow in coming, but due to the combination of his batting and Adair’s more than competent bowling, Sedleigh had emerged victorious. There was a scene of some chaos as the players cheered and slapped each other on the back, and Adair said, "I say, Jackson, well played! I don't know what we should've done without you."
"Rot," Mike had replied, rather abstractly. He was looking around for Psmith, who had bowled some very good innings himself. In the excitement, Mike quite forgot himself. He threw his arms around Psmith's neck and embraced him.
To the others, it seemed merely brotherly, and Mike quickly remembered himself and charged inside with his team-mates. It was a rather dreadful slip to have made, he thought, and it was very unlike him to be so emotionally demonstrative, but no matter. No one had noticed. He would merely have to be more careful in future.
He was wrong, however. Mr Downing, from his seat in the stands, had seen everything. He had caught the look in Mike's eyes, and this time it didn't take a Sherlock Holmes to make the necessary deduction.
Chapter 2
"I say, Comrade Jackson, do you find something funny?" Psmith inquired. They had left the victory party a bit early, citing a desire to put in some time with the old Greek texts.
"I can't help it," said Mike, through his laughter.
"Nor should I wish you to," Psmith returned softly into Mike's ear. His warm breath tickled so that the latter was completely undone. Breathless with laughter, he pushed Psmith down onto the sofa.
"I wonder," said Psmith gravely, "where else you might be ticklish. It is a subject of some considerable interest to me. For example, what would be the effect if I were to - ah, just so, just so. Very interesting, Comrade Jackson." He ran his tongue flickeringly over Mike's neck, resulting in another fit of smothered laughter. "Some might be offended," Psmith went on, running his long fingers daringly under Mike's shirt and over his ribs, "to have their tender caresses met with fits of hilarity, but we Psmiths are not proud people.” The hands traveled thoughtfully up to Mike's chest, where they found some quite engaging activity. Mike gasped even as he choked with ticklish laughter.
"You might let me in on the joke," said Psmith pleasantly. He had found Mike's ear again, and between Psmith's lapping gently at that organ and his hands on Mike's nipples, the old Wrykynian was being driven mad.
"Now let me see," Psmith continued. "So far today I've discovered you're ticklish on your ears, neck, ribs, and chest. I wonder ..." One hand slowly drifted down from Mike's chest, over his belly, hips, and –
Suddenly there came a knock at the door. Mike leapt to his feet and made haste to tuck in his shirt. Psmith, smoothing his waistcoat, strolled over to the door and opened it.
"Comrade Outwood, Comrade Downing, welcome," he said pleasantly. "What a nice surprise. What brings you to our humble abode?"
"Ah, hello, Smith," said Mr Outwood nervously.
"What are you two doing in here?" Mr Downing demanded.
"Studying," Psmith replied gravely. "It pains me to admit that, due to the amount of time we've been devoting to cricket of late, both Comrade Jackson and I have fallen a bit behind in our Greek."
"Is this true, Jackson?" Mr Downing demanded, turning to the unhappy Mike, who had taken the precaution of sitting down at his desk, book open.
"Yes, sir," he said.
"Very well, then, boys, in that case I think we'll be going, come along, Mr Downing -"
"Not so fast," Mr Downing growled to his uncomfortable-looking colleague. "I have reason to believe these boys are up to something."
"Ah, but what?" Psmith intoned mysteriously. Mike could have kicked him.
"What, indeed," said Mr Downing with an ugly sneer. "I saw you after the match."
"Saw us, sir?" Psmith inquired mildly.
"I saw Jackson with his hands all over you. I won't stand for it, I say! We at Sedleigh do not permit -"
"Comrade Downing," said Psmith sadly. "You wrong us deeply. Comrade Jackson's embrace was no more than that of one athlete congratulating another on a game well-played. It may be that Comrade Jackson would do well to be less demonstrative in his affections, and I have already spoken to him on that subject, but his is an open and warm-hearted nature - the heart of a little child-"
"That will do, Smith," said Mr Downing sharply. "I think we'll see what the headmaster has to say about this."
Chapter 3
"As far as I can see," said the Head from behind his desk, "There is little or no evidence of any wrongdoing. Indeed, I am hard-pressed to understand why this matter has been brought to my attention at all."
"You see, sir," said Psmith confidentially, "Comrade Downing is simply so concerned for the moral righteousness and well-being of his students that, in his zeal, he has made a bloomer. I do not grudge it to him - no! I know that Comrade Downing has our best interests at heart, sir, but -"
"That will do, Smith. Mr Outwood, have Smith and Jackson many friends besides one another?"
"Oh, yes," said Mr Outwood, pleased to be able to contribute something positive to the proceedings. "Both seem to get on very well with the other boys."
"Fine examples of English boyhood," Psmith murmured courteously, but was ignored.
"In that case," said the Head, in the manner of a man anxious to put a subject to rest, "I would suggest that Smith and Jackson make an effort to socialize with the other members of their class and, with that aim in sight, that they have their study taken away until further notice."
"Sir, if I may-"
"Smith, hold your tongue!" Mr Downing interjected. Psmith subsided.
*
Back in their dormitory, Mike sank heavily onto his bed. "That was awful."
"It was something of an ordeal," Psmith admitted. "Still, it could have been worse. We could've been sent down, or sent to prison or something. I have to say, Comrade Jackson, we've put ourselves in a deuced awkward position. If you wanted to call the whole thing off right now I would, of course, understand-"
"Oh, do stop rotting," said Mike dully. "You know it isn't any use. Even if we're good as gold from now on it won't make any difference. Another incident like in the locker room the other day and we're in the soup, and I can't help that."
Psmith smiled. "I see your point. Very well, if we're to be hanged one way or another, we may as well do what we like in the meantime. But it's rather inconvenient that we've lost our study. It was such a cozy, private spot. And I daresay we'll be supervised a bit more closely on Archaeological Expeditions from now on. I shall have to think of something. I hadn't finished my investigation yet." With this, Psmith sent Mike such a look that the latter felt surer than ever that such a situation could not stand. Something, he knew, would have to be done.
Part two:
On to Part II
Pairing: Psmith/Mike
Rating: PG-13ish
Disclaimer: Psmith and Mike are not mine, they are Wodehouse's. This is strictly for amusement.
Notes: Written over the summer, during my lunch breaks; it is ridiculously long and irredeemably silly and owing to the former shall be posted in two parts.
Acknowledgments: Thanks very much to derien for the beta :)
Summary: Psmith and Mike are flirting with disaster.
Chapter 1
One does not generally think of a public school as a place with much privacy, but in fact when one has a study with a door that locks and afternoons of unsupervised archaeological field-work, there is little that one cannot manage. The latter happy circumstance had already served Mike well by providing him with an opportunity to play cricket; now, as his relationship with Psmith deepened into something quite unique in Mike's experience, both found the relaxed atmosphere of Outwood's a blessing.
Not every day, but generally several times a week, Mike found himself engaging in this new, sweet battle with Psmith. They necked in their study, they wrestled in the grass on Archaeological Society outings ("Awfully hard on the trousers," said Psmith sadly), and once, when Jellicoe was away at his aunt's for the week-end, Mike and Psmith spent the night together, in a cramped heap of limbs on Psmith's narrow bed. How pleasant it was to fall asleep to the sound of Psmith's steady breathing ... despite the fact that, due to the crowded conditions, Mike was obliged to do so several times throughout the night. And how very nice, too, to wake to Psmith's polite yet insistent kisses on his nose, forehead, cheeks ... There were moments Mike felt that he would die of being happy.
Of course, life was not entirely pleasant for them. The threat of detection was always present, and there were times when it made Mike very anxious indeed. His was a very open and honest nature, and to have to conceal this new secret was rather a drain on him emotionally. Mike wasn't sure exactly what would happen if they were found out, but he felt certain that it would be something very bad indeed. What made it worse was that Psmith, who could be positively Sphinx-like when he chose, seemed inclined to worry not a whit over the risk of discovery. In fact, he seemed to take a perverse pleasure in making Mike squirm. On more than one occasion Mike had been reduced to a bundle of nerves under Psmith's gaze in class, and as for meals, if Mike asked for something to be passed, it would inevitably be Psmith who passed it, taking care that their fingers brushed, which was itself enough to set Mike blushing and stammering like a bally girl. Which was disconcerting in itself because generally speaking these private dalliances were playful and masculine and essentially chaste. Mike would have been the first to admit that he was awfully fond of Psmith, but this hardly qualified him as a girl. It was only under the threat of being found out that Mike found himself behaving so foolishly.
They did have one or two rather close shaves. The first came after a rather grueling practice session with Adair. It was a very warm day, and everyone was glad to change out of his uniform. Mike had removed his jersey and trousers when he felt Psmith's gaze on him. He made the mistake of looking up, and was met with such a blatant look of desire that it nearly knocked him over.
Fortunately, the other boys were all too busy changing and chattering to notice anything was wrong, and the danger soon passed. Mike dressed hurriedly and escaped to the study, where, upon Psmith's arrival some few moments later, they kissed frantically, tugging ineffectually at one anther's clothing until they were gasping for breath.
To Mike, it felt like drowning.
The second disaster, coincidentally, also involved cricket. Since the affair of Sammy, the vermilion bull-terrier, Mr Downing had been, if not kind to Mike, at least a good deal less antagonistic. This was not out of any genuine warmth of feeling towards Mike, but rather a reluctance to appear foolish again. He still felt a bitterness towards him, and it rankled. Mr Downing was not the sort of man to let such a thing go. He was determined to get a bit of his own back.
His chance came one afternoon after a cricket match against the Sedleigh Old Boys' team. Mike had not had an ideal wicket, and his century was slow in coming, but due to the combination of his batting and Adair’s more than competent bowling, Sedleigh had emerged victorious. There was a scene of some chaos as the players cheered and slapped each other on the back, and Adair said, "I say, Jackson, well played! I don't know what we should've done without you."
"Rot," Mike had replied, rather abstractly. He was looking around for Psmith, who had bowled some very good innings himself. In the excitement, Mike quite forgot himself. He threw his arms around Psmith's neck and embraced him.
To the others, it seemed merely brotherly, and Mike quickly remembered himself and charged inside with his team-mates. It was a rather dreadful slip to have made, he thought, and it was very unlike him to be so emotionally demonstrative, but no matter. No one had noticed. He would merely have to be more careful in future.
He was wrong, however. Mr Downing, from his seat in the stands, had seen everything. He had caught the look in Mike's eyes, and this time it didn't take a Sherlock Holmes to make the necessary deduction.
Chapter 2
"I say, Comrade Jackson, do you find something funny?" Psmith inquired. They had left the victory party a bit early, citing a desire to put in some time with the old Greek texts.
"I can't help it," said Mike, through his laughter.
"Nor should I wish you to," Psmith returned softly into Mike's ear. His warm breath tickled so that the latter was completely undone. Breathless with laughter, he pushed Psmith down onto the sofa.
"I wonder," said Psmith gravely, "where else you might be ticklish. It is a subject of some considerable interest to me. For example, what would be the effect if I were to - ah, just so, just so. Very interesting, Comrade Jackson." He ran his tongue flickeringly over Mike's neck, resulting in another fit of smothered laughter. "Some might be offended," Psmith went on, running his long fingers daringly under Mike's shirt and over his ribs, "to have their tender caresses met with fits of hilarity, but we Psmiths are not proud people.” The hands traveled thoughtfully up to Mike's chest, where they found some quite engaging activity. Mike gasped even as he choked with ticklish laughter.
"You might let me in on the joke," said Psmith pleasantly. He had found Mike's ear again, and between Psmith's lapping gently at that organ and his hands on Mike's nipples, the old Wrykynian was being driven mad.
"Now let me see," Psmith continued. "So far today I've discovered you're ticklish on your ears, neck, ribs, and chest. I wonder ..." One hand slowly drifted down from Mike's chest, over his belly, hips, and –
Suddenly there came a knock at the door. Mike leapt to his feet and made haste to tuck in his shirt. Psmith, smoothing his waistcoat, strolled over to the door and opened it.
"Comrade Outwood, Comrade Downing, welcome," he said pleasantly. "What a nice surprise. What brings you to our humble abode?"
"Ah, hello, Smith," said Mr Outwood nervously.
"What are you two doing in here?" Mr Downing demanded.
"Studying," Psmith replied gravely. "It pains me to admit that, due to the amount of time we've been devoting to cricket of late, both Comrade Jackson and I have fallen a bit behind in our Greek."
"Is this true, Jackson?" Mr Downing demanded, turning to the unhappy Mike, who had taken the precaution of sitting down at his desk, book open.
"Yes, sir," he said.
"Very well, then, boys, in that case I think we'll be going, come along, Mr Downing -"
"Not so fast," Mr Downing growled to his uncomfortable-looking colleague. "I have reason to believe these boys are up to something."
"Ah, but what?" Psmith intoned mysteriously. Mike could have kicked him.
"What, indeed," said Mr Downing with an ugly sneer. "I saw you after the match."
"Saw us, sir?" Psmith inquired mildly.
"I saw Jackson with his hands all over you. I won't stand for it, I say! We at Sedleigh do not permit -"
"Comrade Downing," said Psmith sadly. "You wrong us deeply. Comrade Jackson's embrace was no more than that of one athlete congratulating another on a game well-played. It may be that Comrade Jackson would do well to be less demonstrative in his affections, and I have already spoken to him on that subject, but his is an open and warm-hearted nature - the heart of a little child-"
"That will do, Smith," said Mr Downing sharply. "I think we'll see what the headmaster has to say about this."
Chapter 3
"As far as I can see," said the Head from behind his desk, "There is little or no evidence of any wrongdoing. Indeed, I am hard-pressed to understand why this matter has been brought to my attention at all."
"You see, sir," said Psmith confidentially, "Comrade Downing is simply so concerned for the moral righteousness and well-being of his students that, in his zeal, he has made a bloomer. I do not grudge it to him - no! I know that Comrade Downing has our best interests at heart, sir, but -"
"That will do, Smith. Mr Outwood, have Smith and Jackson many friends besides one another?"
"Oh, yes," said Mr Outwood, pleased to be able to contribute something positive to the proceedings. "Both seem to get on very well with the other boys."
"Fine examples of English boyhood," Psmith murmured courteously, but was ignored.
"In that case," said the Head, in the manner of a man anxious to put a subject to rest, "I would suggest that Smith and Jackson make an effort to socialize with the other members of their class and, with that aim in sight, that they have their study taken away until further notice."
"Sir, if I may-"
"Smith, hold your tongue!" Mr Downing interjected. Psmith subsided.
*
Back in their dormitory, Mike sank heavily onto his bed. "That was awful."
"It was something of an ordeal," Psmith admitted. "Still, it could have been worse. We could've been sent down, or sent to prison or something. I have to say, Comrade Jackson, we've put ourselves in a deuced awkward position. If you wanted to call the whole thing off right now I would, of course, understand-"
"Oh, do stop rotting," said Mike dully. "You know it isn't any use. Even if we're good as gold from now on it won't make any difference. Another incident like in the locker room the other day and we're in the soup, and I can't help that."
Psmith smiled. "I see your point. Very well, if we're to be hanged one way or another, we may as well do what we like in the meantime. But it's rather inconvenient that we've lost our study. It was such a cozy, private spot. And I daresay we'll be supervised a bit more closely on Archaeological Expeditions from now on. I shall have to think of something. I hadn't finished my investigation yet." With this, Psmith sent Mike such a look that the latter felt surer than ever that such a situation could not stand. Something, he knew, would have to be done.
Part two:
On to Part II
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