darnedsocks | FIC: August by darnedsocks. Jeeves & Wooster, Slash, 15+

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FIC: August by darnedsocks. Jeeves & Wooster, Slash, 15+

Title: August
Fandom: Jeeves & Wooster
Characters: Jeeves/Wooster
Word Count: Approx. 3,400 words.
Rating: 15+.
Disclaimer: Jeeves & Wooster belong to PG Wodehouse. I'm just borrowing them.
Authors Notes: Beta'd by

skyblue_reverie Cross-posted to

summer_flinging and

indeedsir

August.

"Good Lord, it's beastly hot!"

I fanned myself half-heartedly with an ancient copy of Horse and Country - or maybe it was House and Country, or Horse and Hounds. Anyway, it was exactly the sort of rag one would expect to find laying about the place when one was house-sitting for Sir Cyril "Rocky" Hetherington-Stone, a man with a face like granite, fists like boulders, and a way of asking one for favours that sounds like a challenge to pistols at dawn. Man could have had a perfect career as a Sergeant-Major, if he hadn't been born into the officer class by mistake.

Still, the house was nice enough, if a little heavy on the antlers, and the staff were so well-trained as to be invisible. Best of all, Jeeves and I were the only guests. Thank heavens for Lady Hetherington-Stone's compulsive need to go one better than her neighbours, that's all I can say. The cathedral-like conservatory I had taken to spending most of my time in, with its indoor pool, clean lines, and blessed lack of antlers, would never have existed without her relentless one-upwomanship. Now if only it wasn't so hot.

"Is this sort of thing normal for Norfolk, Jeeves?"

Jeeves shimmered into existence next to the Wooster elbow with a tall carafe of iced punch before I'd even finished exclaiming. Those funny Eastern wallahs sitting on their mountain-tops had nothing on the psychic abilities of one Jeeves.

"Well, it is August, sir."

"Well, yes. You don't feel that August is overdoing things a bit, Jeeves? After all, it's an English August. I mean, no need to show off."

An eyebrow quivered, and I knew that Jeeves, that model of restraint, agreed with me whole-heartedly. "Indeed, sir."

I slumped back onto the lounger. "Remind me again why we didn't go to Scotland?"

"There was the issue of an Aunt and several young ladies whom you wished to avoid, sir."

"Oh, yes." The dreaded Aunt Agatha, the battleship of the family fleet, able to destroy a helpless nephew with a single volley. I shuddered at the thought.

Still, Scotland was calling to me. Admittedly, it was doing so in a rather thick accent, and I was having some trouble understanding it, but it was definitely saying tempting things about snow and spring-fed streams babbling merrily down mountains into deep cold lochs. I was beginning to think that braving the odd ex-fiancée or two - or three - might be worth it for the blessed cold, when Jeeves spoke up, just in the nick of time.

"I believe I have a solution, sir." So saying, he floated over to the door and locked it, and then proceeded to make a circuit of the room, closing all the windows and the curtains. The dimness was certainly soothing, but I had to wonder about the reason for shutting out all the draughts. Perhaps Jeeves was, as I had often suspected, over-trained?

He turned to face me, eyes glinting oddly in the blue light from the pool. "Please stand up, sir."

I stood, and Jeeves' nimble fingers began to divest me of my clothing. Now, this is hardly unusual; I mean, the man's my gentleman's personal gentleman, so his fingers often go about vesting and divesting and so forth, but usually only in the privacy of my own chambers, and hardly ever in the middle of the morning. It all seemed a bit thingummy, so I voiced my sternest protest.

"I say!"

I wasn't able to imbue that statement with the gravitas it deserved, since I now lacked a jacket and tie, and was in fact down to half a shirt, but I drew myself up to my full height nonetheless. "I say, Jeeves!"

"Sir?" Jeeves' hands paused at my waistband, where he was undoing my trouser button, and he raised one entire eyebrow at me, a sure sign that he was rattled.

"Perhaps you could explain this plan to me in more detail, Jeeves? I mean to say, drinks, locked door, closed curtains, disappearing clothes ... a chap might begin to wonder."

"It was simply my thought that you might be cooler if you disrobed, sir, in order to take advantage of the pool."

The man was a genius! "Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! You're a marvel, Jeeves!" And I’m dashed if my shirt wasn't already neatly folded on the end of the lounger. I hadn't noticed a thing.

"Thank you, sir. If you would take a seat, sir?"

I sat, and let the marvel go to work on my shoelaces. Not being the sharpest tool in the box, I was still hazy about some of the details of the plan, though, and so I made my confusion known, and Jeeves, wonderful chap that he is, explained all while he dealt with my socks.

"I locked the door to keep out the housemaids and the cook, sir. Since they are of the female persuasion, I felt it wise to take the precaution. We must observe the proprieties at all times, sir."

Now, I was fairly sure that it was the housemaids' day off, and I knew Cook had muttered something about 'shopping' and 'leaving out a cold lunch for us' at breakfast, but you can't be too careful with servants. Jeeves was always appearing when I was in the bath, for example. The man had an absolute mania for cleanliness; I hadn't been so well-scrubbed since Matron first got her hands on me at boarding school.

"And the curtains, Jeeves?"

"This is the countryside, sir. You never know when you may come across young ladies taking the air."

Well, I have to say, I didn't want to doubt Jeeves' word, but I was rather of the opinion that any delicate young ladies of sense would be busy fainting away in darkened rooms, and not, say, lurking about in random flowerbeds on the off-chance that they might catch a glimpse of the Wooster elbows sans shirt.

Besides, anyone gallivanting about the countryside today would undoubtedly have melted by now.

"If you would stand up, please, sir?"

I stood, and as Jeeves started in on my trousers, something occurred to me. "You know, it occurs to me, Jeeves, that you could have simply fetched me my bathing costume."

Jeeves' nostrils flared. "I'm afraid not, sir. The item in question had obviously suffered some unfortunate accident at the hands of the Royal Mail, and I had to send it back."

"An accident?" I hated to press the man for details when this incident had traumatised him so severely that he was flaring both nostrils, but a man expects to be informed about such sartorial disasters promptly. Besides, I was curious about what could rattle the imperturbable Jeeves. "What kind of accident?"

I sat down, holding my breath in anticipation of the horror, and Jeeves stood straighter as he prepared to impart the terrible news. "I'm afraid, sir, that when it arrived, it was ... puce."

"Puce? Isn't that some sort of reddish-pink?"

Jeeves shook out my trousers with unnecessary vigour as he said, "Brownish-purple, sir."

"You mean, like an aubergine-y sort of colour?"

"Possibly, sir; although I believe the Americans refer to it as eggplant." Jeeves folded my trousers positively fiercely, and I eyed him with some trepidation.

"Ah." Now at this point I found myself in somewhat of a quandary. You see, Jeeves was obviously under the impression that the puce-ness of said bathing costume had been some sort of dreadful accident, when in fact I had chosen that shade of aubergine myself, after some deliberation. Thus, the quandary. Learned chaps have a lot to say about honesty and integrity, and unless fiancées or aunts are involved, I generally agree with them, Code of the Woosters and all that; but this was Jeeves.

Jeeves - my loyal servant, trusted cup-bearer, and defender from Aunts - who had raised an entire eyebrow at me not five minutes ago. Jeeves, who was now flaring his nostrils like a thoroughbred racehorse unexpectedly confronted with the traumatic sight of Bingo's latest waistcoat, and who looked just as likely to bolt.

"Ah," I said, wisely, "well." I cleared my throat, and nobly sacrificed my bathing costume to the Cause of Domestic Harmony. "Well, never mind, eh, Jeeves?" I said, and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Sir," he said, and very nearly smiled at me.

I smiled back as innocently as I knew how, and made a mental note never to buy anything puce ever again. It might be a dashed flattering colour on me, but it just wasn't worth it if it was going to cause Jeeves this level of emotional upset. I mean, first the eyebrow, then both nostrils, and now very nearly a smile? The poor man must have been traumatised indeed.

"If you would raise your arms, sir," he said, and I obeyed. He promptly stripped my undershirt off over my head and started to fold it, and I was hit by a wave of nostalgia at the thought of going skinny-dipping in the pool.

"You know, Jeeves, this reminds me of my schooldays. On hot days like these, at the end of the summer term, we used to sneak off down to the river, strip off, and splash about like wild things. I’ve told you about all that, haven’t I?"

Jeeves said, "Yes, sir. Among other things," as he efficiently stripped off the rest of my underthings.

"Yes, well - those were the days."

I stood up straight and took a deep breath, enjoying the cool air across my sweaty skin, feeling decidedly decadent. I looked at Jeeves to compliment him on yet another brilliant plan, and paused. The man’s face was red as a boiled lobster, and I was struck by the unfairness of it all. Here was I, cool as the proverbial cucumber, and there was he, his face flushed and sweaty, hands tugging at the hem of his jacket, looking like he was about to faint from the heat ... or some such.

Now, I feel I should explain one or two things here. Firstly, my admiration for Jeeves goes beyond an admiration for his brain. Said b. is undoubtedly a work of art, but so is the body that supports it. He is, in my eyes, the perfect man: able to give Socrates and Plato a run for their money in the brains department, and more of a dish than Paris to boot. If the Greek gods were still about there'd have been swans and bulls and showers of gold all over the place.

Secondly, I can never tell him of the true depths of my admiration. I refuse to take advantage of my position in that way. The Code of the Woosters is quite clear on the whole Master-servant relationship, and errs rather more on the Christian side of things than the Classical. Also, if I were to - well, express my appreciation for the Classics, say - and Jeeves were not to share said appreciation, then he would feel he had no choice but to leave me, and that possibility is simply intolerable. I shuddered at the thought and took a swig of punch to calm my nerves.

This didn't stop me dreaming of happy endings, however. Horrible, sickly-sweet dreams they were, too; they'd have done Madeline Bassett proud. In fact, I venture to say that my dreams would have out-sapped even La Bassett, overflowing as they were with sunsets and declarations and green fields and good Scotch and sunshine, and a general feeling that it would start raining puppies and kittens at any moment.

Now in the past Bertram had always put such dreams aside, stiff upper lip and all that, until today. Something about the way Jeeves' eyes had glinted in the light of the pool, and as I'd said: drinks, locked door, closed curtains, disappearing clothes ... a chap might begin to get ideas. And now Jeeves was standing right in front of me, doing his best to ignore me, his eyes trained firmly over my shoulder - the perfect gentleman's personal gentleman, except for the way his fingers had trembled slightly and so very unprofessionally as he'd undressed me.

I might be an idiot, but I was not born yesterday, no matter what some people say. In an instant the scales had fallen from my eyes, and in that same instant, I came up with a plan. "I say, you should strip off too, Jeeves."

"Sir?"

I clapped him encouragingly on the shoulder. "This skinny-dipping idea of yours is marvellous. You should strip off and come in with me." Jeeves froze, so I started undoing the buttons on his jacket.

"Really, sir; I must protest-"

He tried to back away, and I followed. "Come, come, Jeeves-"

"-it hardly seems proper-"

"-where’s the harm? Nothing to be ashamed of, just two fellows taking a dip together-"

"Well, I-"

I slipped the last button on his jacket out of its buttonhole, and clinched the argument by saying, "I insist!"

Jeeves stopped backing away and straightened up. He smoothed a hand across his hair, and said, "Very well, sir, if you insist."

"That’s the spirit!" I smiled happily at him, then poured myself another glass of iced punch and sprawled out on the lounger to wait for Jeeves to begin disrobing.

Jeeves stripped off slowly, his movements precise, carefully folding or hanging or setting aside each item: jacket, waistcoat, tie, braces. He made me think of those new-fangled factory production lines, all cool modern efficiency and clean lines. He also rather put me in mind of the old Greek gods and heroes.

That led on to other Classical thoughts... There's nothing like a good public school education for teaching a fellow how to get on famously - or, well, infamously, as the case may be - with other fellows. As that funny writer fellow said, 'You can't expect a boy to be depraved until he has been to a good school,' after all. All I know is, it can be dashed distracting at times, suddenly getting hit by Classical thoughts - especially if there are any members of the fairer sex about. Or Aunts.

Looking on the bright side, though, I was beginning to think that I might have a chance to, ah, 'get on' rather well with my man Jeeves, if the flush at the nape of his neck was anything to go by. I've dreamed about the nape of his neck, you know. I knocked back the punch, and poured myself another.

Since he had his back to me, I let my eyes wander a little: the breadth of his shoulders under the shirt, the flex of his muscles as he took off his cufflinks, the hidden dip in the small of his back that I've dreamed of kissing for ages, the tight curve of his buttocks under the beautifully-tailored trousers as he bent over to deal with his shoes...

I may have moaned at that point. I do know that I blushed when Jeeves looked at me, and had to adjust my position somewhat. Luckily something about the circs. seemed to amuse him, and he simply raised an eyebrow, and very nearly smiled at me as he unbuttoned his shirt and revealed skin like marble.

I tell you now, if Michelangelo had been faced with that phys., he would have cast aside his chisels and - just knocked it on the head and gone home to cry into his linguini. My mouth felt drier and dustier than Tutankhamun's tomb, so I took another jolt of the old iced p. and licked my lips.

I was beginning to think that it might have been a bad idea to close the windows. I was having some trouble breathing, and I was just on the verge of asking Jeeves about the symptoms of that hypoxi-whatsis when I noticed that his chest was also rising and falling rather faster than normal, and then he started to unfasten his trousers and I could no more speak than I could fly to the top of Mount Everest; it was obvious that Jeeves had been having Classical thoughts of his own.

He dropped trou. and laid them aside neatly, then stripped off his unmentionables in one efficient move. I gasped, and shifted position on the lounger again - my Classical thoughts giving me some difficulty at that point - and Jeeves very nearly smiled at me again, his lips curling sweetly at the corners.

"Sir-"

I nearly dropped my glass, and put it down hastily with shaking hands. His voice, when he spoke, sounded different, deeper, and I'm not ashamed to admit that it did things to my innards. 'Sir.' I've heard that word every day for as long as I can recall, so often that I hardly even notice it anymore. It's just one of those words, like 'and' or 'tea' or 'you silly boy', that one ignores. After hearing Jeeves say it to me in that voice, though, I know I shall never be able to ignore it again. One syllable, only three letters, and more emotion in it than you can shake a stick at.

"Jeeves?" I said, or tried to say; my first attempt at speech failed, and I had to clear my throat and try again. "Jeeves?" And I’m dashed if my voice didn't do the same thing as Jeeves' voice had - it came out all deep and thrilling, rather like some matinee idol.

Well, he blinked a couple of times, and swallowed, and then cleared his throat and said, "Shall we?" I hesitated for a moment - Jeeves had a bit of a devilish glint in his eye as he held out his hand to me - but the Woosters have never lacked for courage, and I threw caution to the winds.

"Yes," I said, taking his hand, and he whooped like a Red Indian, scooped me up in his arms and threw us both into the deep end, splash!

Never let it be said that a Wooster can't take it like a man - I came up spitting water and laughing, and Jeeves... He looked at me the way people look at one of Anatole’s finest culinary efforts, and smiled; positively beamed, in fact. I was struck then by the sappiest of sappy thoughts: this is what my lover looks like; this is what my lover looks like when he's happy.

Jeeves tried to reel me in, but I held him off, and took a moment to trace his smile with my fingertips. His eyes darkened until he looked like some kind of disreputable pirate, and he licked at my fingers, pulling them into his mouth and sucking on them delicately. I shook like an aspen.

He kept torturing me until I broke. I grabbed his head and kissed him fiercely, and put as much carnal desire into it as I could. I may not know the rules when it comes to kissing women, but I bally well know how to kiss a man, and I kissed him until we were both breathless. We were so distracted, in fact, that we went under for the second time, and came up spluttering and laughing again.

It lightened the mood a bit, but didn't break it, thank goodness. We kissed and played and splashed about like otters in spring, interspersing the odd caress here and there; I beat him on lengths and widths, and he beat me on depths and dunkings. I don't want to say he cheated, but he certainly fought dirty on the dunkings front, distracting me in the most outrageous ways.

When we were pleasantly tired, he whispered, "I believe I have a plan you'll approve of," in my ear and towed me over to the shallow end of the pool, the edge of which turned out to be just the right height for what he had planned.

On occasion in the past I have doubted the wisdom of his plans, but no more! From this day forward, Bertram has turned over a new leaf - indeed, an entire new forest - and I declare that I shall never doubt again. I have faith; I have been converted; I have found my road to Damascus.

Afterwards, as I lay cradled in his arms, I said, "One for the record books, I think, Jeeves."

He stroked my hair back off my forehead and smiled, a trifle smugly. "Indeed, sir."

^{1) Stephen Fry, the actor who played Jeeves, lives in Norfolk (which for those of you who don't know Britain, has a reputation for being insular and, well, inbred. [Insert your cousin joke of choice here.] He told an anecdote on QI that went something like this: A new doctor, seeing a note on a medical file that he doesn't recognise, asks the local doctor about it, and he says with a smile, "NFN? Oh, that means 'Normal - for Norfolk.'"

2) Saki (H. H. Munro), (1870-1916) "You can't expect a boy to be depraved until he has been to a good school." A Baker's Dozen.}

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

how absolutely charming! such a delight to read. the idea of jeeves whooping like an indian has me completely squeeful.

From this day forward, Bertram has turned over a new leaf - indeed, an entire new forest - and I declare that I shall never doubt again. I have faith; I have been converted; I have found my road to Damascus.

and that's just so very bertie. awww.

I do like the idea of an off-duty Jeeves relaxing and having fun. And Bertie is always so sweet.

Thank you for the feedback!

Fantastic! your Bertie voice is spot on :)

Thank you. *g*

So so good! This is lovely, and sweet, and hot. I've already pointed out some of my very favorite bits in my email, but I'll just say again how fantastic this is. And I said it before, but I'll say it again, I love this line:

I was struck then by the sappiest of sappy thoughts: this is what my lover looks like; this is what my lover looks like when he's happy.

Ohhhhhhh. *wibble* Playful!Jeeves is so sexy, and it's a concept I've never really seen explored before, but it works so well.

I also love the new opening section - it's wonderful!! And the last line as well - completely perfect. What an absolutely corking tale, old thing - you really must write more!

Thank you so much for beta'ing it - I couldn't have done it without you.

Sappy!Bertie and Playful!Jeeves are so cute, aren't they? *g*

'What an absolutely corking tale, old thing - you really must write more!' - Thank you - you're too kind. *blushes*

Pish-tosh! I was thrilled to help, but it was already lovely when I saw it.

Sappy!Bertie and Playful!Jeeves are indeed adorable! Especially when naked and wet. I just want to hug them and cuddle them and do... um... all kinds of inappropriate things to them. *g*

I see that you are using some of the same icons I use (I remember you snapped the tie hearts one in the post where you asked for betas - hee!) and I keep getting confused as I go through and look at the comments because I keep thinking that I wrote the comment, but nope, it's you! :)

One thought - you may want to bung a link to this up on

fryandorlaurie because I think they'd love it over there as well.

Awww. *blushes*

'I just want to hug them and cuddle them and do... um... all kinds of inappropriate things to them.' - oh, yes, so do I. *g*

I know. *g* I only have three J&W icons on this account, so they're all getting a lot of use here.

I may well put a link up over there; I just keep forgetting to log out of my main lj and log in again as darnedsocks to do it all.

Ohhhh very sweet, It goes from pure Wodehouse to Erotica.

Thank you. The Erotica was very hard to write; it took me yonks to find a style that worked with the Wodehouse style. I'm glad you liked it.

Overall, I liked it. Your Bertie is amazingly spot-on, and he's not the easiest voice to pin. Jeeves was good as well- Like others have said before me, the beginning was pure Wodehouse.

I have difficulty suspending my disbelief enough to accept that Bertie has been in love with Jeeves for ages and knows it- Bertie seems like the type who is blissfully unaware of what's going on until Jeeves kindly points it out to him, but that may be more of a personal thing. I similarly have difficulty accepting that Jeeves would do something that could be as badly misconstrued as stripping off Bertie's clothing without a prior request for permission to do so so that sir could take a swim, blah blah blah.

But still- a very creditable piece of work. Hope you write more. :)

Thank you for leaving such thoughtful feedback.

Well, I think it fits because although Bertie knows he likes men, and knows he likes Jeeves, he completely misses the fact that Jeeves likes him back, until Jeeves comes up with this plan that makes it so obvious that even Bertie can't miss it - but still allows either one of them to back out at any time, and write it all off as innocent fun, if that's what they want to do. But it's very hard to put all that across when writing from Bertie's (limited) point of view. *g*

I'm glad you liked it.

Well done! Both extremely funny and hot.

"Still, The house was nice enough, if a little heavy on the antlers," This line made me laugh out loud, it's such a perfect description.

"Admittedly, it was doing so in a rather thick accent, and I was having some trouble understanding it," Pure Bertie.

"Jeeves was always appearing when I was in the bath, for example." Gee, I wonder why that is.

"If the Greek gods were still about there'd have been swans and bulls and showers of gold all over the place." Sweet sentiment, but eww, eww, and eww. ;)

Thank you! That's what I was aiming for, and it was dashhed hard to do.

Poor Bertie, having *no idea* why Jeeves always turns up when he's in the bath. And poor Jeeves, trying to woo Oblivious!Bertie.

Oh, hey - don't blame me for the ew! - blame Zeus. (Although, I think I shall go back and make that last "gold coins", just to clarify things.) *g*

And poor Jeeves, trying to woo Oblivious!Bertie.
Heh, he knew what he was getting in to from the day he started working for Bertie.

(Although, I think I shall go back and make that last "gold coins", just to clarify things.)
Nah, isn't "shower of gold" how it's decribed in the myths and paintings anyway? The phrase has just gotten an unfortunate alternative meaning with time.

'Nah, isn't "shower of gold" how it's decribed in the myths and paintings anyway? The phrase has just gotten an unfortunate alternative meaning with time.' - Hmmm, yes. I think I'll go and change it back; after considering it, I think most J&W fans will be litereate enough to get the original reference, even if it does raise a smile now. :D

Ah! Delightful! Positively brimming over with charm and humour and Classical allusions.

Tick! V.G.!

Thank you! The Classics were very inspirational; I liked playing with the idea that although Bertie thinks of himself as an idiot, he's still a very well-educated idiot.

*blushes* *gives you an A+ for leaving feedback* *g*

*squees* So sweet! I love the thought of a playful Jeeves. X) Corking, love!

Playful!Jeeves is my favourite thing in this whole piece, I think. Thank you!

Oh! That was just lovely and charming...an playful Jeeves is marvelous!

Oh, you're too kind. *g* Thank you for the lovely feedback.

Awh, that was really cute.

I tell you now, if Michelangelo had been faced with that phys., he would have cast aside his chisels and - just knocked it on the head and gone home to cry into his linguini. - The Best Sentence Ever.

Haha, that was really sweet. Thanks for posting!

I'm glad you liked it. Thanks for taking the time to leave feedback! *g*

Whew...!!!! Too many perfect lines to comment on! Unfortunately I've been neglecting reading the stories here - too busy as I go through my f-list - so I'm glad I thought to poke my head in here today. Perfect!

Hee! Thanks awfully, old thing. I'm glad you liked it so much. *g*

Tonkerty-tonk! *G*

Awwwww. First, melting into puddle of squee and puppies and similar things. No greater love hath man than sacrificing his clothing for twoo love. Also, y'know, good sex, but clothing first.

(and to go with other comments, I'm as much a big a fan of Oblivious!Bertie as I am of a Bertie who knows exactly how much he wants Jeeves but feels he could never impose due to the constraints of being a gentleman. Also known as 'how many times can a man be relieved to be getting out of the impending bonds of matrimony to return to the bosom of Jeeves'.)

'No greater love hath man than sacrificing his clothing for twoo love' - Yes, and Jeeves knows it, too.

I've always seen Bertie as one of those chaps who knows what he wants, but not how to get it; more helpless than oblivious. He seems to get into most of his scrapes not so much by being oblivious, but by being too well-mannered and/or kind-hearted to be nasty enough to get out of whichever mad scheme he's been roped into. Anyway, I'm glad you liked my version of him. *g*

'how many times can a man be relieved to be getting out of the impending bonds of matrimony to return to the bosom of Jeeves' - Well, Bertie is an *ahem* 'confirmed bachelor' after all. ;-D

Just wanted to add my congratulations to the many you have already received. This made me smile, giggle and generally grin like an idiot which makes it good in my book. Some great lines, and personally I prefer it when Bertie is not completely stupid and clueless. After all, it was Stephen Fry who commented that the books are all written in his voice. Obviously Jeeves is the more resourceful, practical and keen on intellectual pursuits for their own sake but I like to think of Bertie's brain as being underexercised and unfocused rather than completely lacking and his nature as being exceptionally sweet and self-deprecating. Even Oxford wouldn't take complete imbeciles! ( Guess where I went?)And it makes sense that a public school education would have given him some knowledge of 'the classics'! I do hope you will write more and look ofrward to reading it.

I'm glad it made you smile. *g*

'I prefer it when Bertie is not completely stupid and clueless. After all, it was Stephen Fry who commented that the books are all written in his voice' - yes, my thoughts exactly! And I agree with the rest of your comment, too.

I've always thought that Bertie's 'stupidity' is relative: he may be a bit slow compared to Jeeves (who I always see as a very intelligent public-school-educated scholarship boy) and some of the Oxbridge types he rubs shoulders with, but he'd be brighter and certainly better-educated than the vast majority of the population. I think Bertie would rather be 'a good egg' than an intellectual, anyway.

I probably will write more ... eventually. I really enjoyed writing this. I'm glad you enjoyed reading it, and thank you for leaving such thoughtful feedback.

Re Jeeves- see ' The intellectual life of the British working classes' for the amazing feats of private scholarship performed by Jeevsian figures, plus I think Grammar school not public school. Also really small point, I think Bertie would say Scotch rather than Bourbon. Look forward to your next fic, hope it won't be too long.

Sorry for the unforgivably long delay in replying.

It is hard to say what Jeeves education would have involved; he could easily be entirely self-educated. And yes, grammar school is also a good option. Thinking about it, my vision of Jeeves as a public school boy is down to Stephen Fry, who is so *obviously* a public school boy in so many ways.

"Bertie would say Scotch rather than Bourbon" - Gah, of course he would! *facepalm* I can't believe I missed such an obvious thing. Thank you for pointing it out! *g*

I'm a slow writer, and I'm not working on any Jeeves & Wooster at the moment, so unfortunately it may be a long wait. Sorry.

You made me laugh out loud! you passed the Wodehouse test! Authentic Wodehouse is one of the only things taht can make me genuinly laugh out loud, so i know a piece of wodehouse fanfiction is good if it can do that.

Thank you!

and i am completely in love that when bertie imagines girls spying on hhis nudity, he thinks of themchecking out his elbows. thats so cute! very victorian ankle esque. and i love how you mad bertie aware of his errm, nature, but not soberly so - he think of it in that mangled fantasy way that he thinks of everything, and still comes off ass silly even when talking about very seriouse things. ahhh, love. Michelangelo despairing at the perfection of Jeeves' body is the perfect finishing touch!(ignoring the smut of course)

Sorry for the late reply.

Bertie was a lot of fun to write! I really enjoyed it, and I'm glad you enjoyed reading it too. *g*

I enjoyed this very much indeed, it was very amusing, ('classical thoughts' is the best euphemism ever) and sweetly touching. Thank you

Thank you for the feedback. I'm glad you liked the 'classical thoughts'. *g*

I hated to press the man for details when this incident had traumatised him so severely that he was flaring both nostrils...

*tries to flare one*

this is just as good the fifth time that i've read it.
:D

Oh, wow - you've read it five times? I'm flattered. *g* I'm glad you liked it, and thank you for the lovely feedback.

*giggles at them flaring nostrils*

See, apparently when I lie, my nostrils flair.

AND OMG GREAT STORY EEEEE YAY AWESOME BLOODY HELL IT IS AWESOME.

That is all.

Jeeves would definitely flare his nostrils; he's that kind of man.

"See, apparently when I lie, my nostrils flair." Hmmm, really? *squints at you* ;-D

OMG - Thank you for saying such nice things!

Hee!

I have just found this fic via the Jeeves and Wooster 'Indeed Sir' archive, and it is absolutely adorable - I feel about as sappy as Madeline Basset now!

I loved the way you built up the sexual tension during the course of the story and the Michaelangelo line was the icing on the cake. Jeeves whooping like an Indian was so unexpected, yet so lovely, and the idea of them frolicking about in the pool has made me feel warm and fuzzy all over :-)

It is an interesting take that Bertie might be experienced with men (I usually imagine Jeeves as his 'first'), but it works well in the context you describe. Best of all was this:

this is what my lover looks like; this is what my lover looks like when he's happy.

Jolly good show all round, Madam. May I enquire as to whether you have written any other J/W stories?

PurpleFluffyCat x

LMAO at your Author's Note 1. Poor, poor inbreds. xDD

"Yes," I said, taking his hand, and he whooped like a Red Indian, scooped me up in his arms and threw us both into the deep end, splash!

I CAN TOTALLY IMAGINE THIS! Hahaha <33

CLASSICAL THOUGHTS!! Oh bless Bertie's heart. He really does come up with the best euphemisms! Aww this fic was great! It was really cute and made me laugh a lot. This is my favourite bit:

I stood, and as Jeeves started in on my trousers, something occurred to me. "You know, it occurs to me, Jeeves, that you could have simply fetched me my bathing costume."

Jeeves' nostrils flared. "I'm afraid not, sir. The item in question had obviously suffered some unfortunate accident at the hands of the Royal Mail, and I had to send it back."

"An accident?" I hated to press the man for details when this incident had traumatised him so severely that he was flaring both nostrils,

Traumatized him so severely he was flaring both nostrils!!?? HEHEHE!! I just found that to be the sweetest thing. Thanks for writing. :D

Oh my, this was marvellous. I admit to usually having a hard time believing anything beyond subtle flirtations to be truly in-character, but something about the pool and the transformations rendered by a good dunking made this feel like a record that just might have been hiding in the very back (under fat lock and key) of the Wodehouse archives... heehee!
Ripping stuff, I say!

Michelangelo just knocked it on the head and gone home to cry into his linguini.
Bless you.

HOW COME I'VE ONLY JUST FOUND THIS? One of the best JW stories I've read. Love it! <3

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

FIC: August by darnedsocks. Jeeves & Wooster, Slash, 15+

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more admiration

Re: more admiration

Re: more admiration

Re: more admiration

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