storyfan (storyfan) wrote,
storyfan
storyfan

Age Comes to Us All: A Jeeves and Wooster ficlet

Title: Age Comes to Us All: A Jeeves and Wooster ficlet
Pairing: Bertie/Jeeves, established relationship
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: Jeeves and Wooster belong to P.G. Wodehouse, not to me. I'm certainly not making any money from this.
Notes: This story has not been viewed by a beta. All mistakes belong to me. If you find any, I can fix them. About 580 words.
Summary: Bertie and Jeeves have a serious talk.


Bertie rolled onto his side to face the wall, closed his eyes and tried to will away his anger and frustration. God, he hated getting old, especially as Jeeves still seemed to be as virile as the first time they’d made love.

At first he ignored the gentle hand on his bare shoulder, but knew he wasn’t being fair. His inadequacies weren’t his lover’s fault, after all.

“I’m sorry, Jeeves,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Seems to happen more often these days, doesn’t it?”

Jeeves pulled Bertie onto his back, his hand gentle but firm. Bertie opened his eyes and gazed at that remarkable face. Even in the room’s dim light, Bertie could see the love and concern in his lover’s eyes. He thought again of his great good fortune in having this man at his side for more than 25 years. Jeeves had seen them through a depression, a world war, had rescued Bertie from what seemed like dozens of engagements and had helped conceal a secret that still had the power to destroy them both.

Bertie touched the tiny wrinkles that crinkled in the corners of his lover’s eyes and then ran his fingers through the silver and black hair. 

“I love you, Jeeves,” he said. A sigh escaped his lips. “I just wish I could still please you the way I used to. The old Wooster corpus isn’t what it used to be, I suppose.”

Jeeves pressed a soft kiss on Bertie’s unhappy mouth, then smiled his small, quirky smile.

“That doesn’t matter in the least to me, sir. What matters to me is that you still, after all these years, want me at your side and in your bed.”

Bertie ran his thumb across Jeeves’s lower lip. “Are you saying you don’t miss the old days, Jeeves? When the young master could keep you up all night and then attack you in the bath first thing in the morning?” Bertie looked at the ceiling. “I know I do.”

Jeeves placed a warm palm on Bertie’s cheek and forced him to meet his gaze. “Sir,” he said, “although I have always appreciated and enjoyed your passionate nature, our physical relationship was never the most important part of what we are together.”

Bertie opened his mouth to interrupt, but closed it again when Jeeves raised his eyebrows.

“Your love is most important to me, sir. I’m thankful every moment of my life because you are in it. I would never have traded these years with you for any amount of physical passion.”

Bertie pulled Jeeves into his arms and held him close, his face buried in Jeeves’s warm neck.

“Thank you, my love,” Bertie said after a long moment. “I don’t even want to think about where I would be without you.”

“You need never worry about that, sir,” Jeeves said and kissed Bertie’s cheek.

 

Hours later, Bertie found himself staring unseeingly in the dark room.  He knew what Jeeves was doing in the bathroom and the pain of it twisted something inside him. He could have done for Jeeves what he was doing to himself now but knew Jeeves wouldn’t ask and would refuse the offer for fear of making Bertie feel inadequate.

Jeeves tried to be discreet and Bertie appreciated that, but even a marvel such as Jeeves couldn’t be silent while in the throes of pleasure. Bertie swallowed the lump in his throat and pretended to be asleep as Jeeves climbed back into their bed.

 

 

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