Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Now see here Jeeves, need I remind you that I am in charge here? As in, I am the master and you are the valet."

"... Would you like my assistance in removing your claws from the curtain Sir?"

"... Erm, yes please Jeeves."

"Very good Sir."

Chapter Text

"Sir."

"... Yes Jeeves?"

"May I request that you please not knock that glass off of the piano?"

"Ah! Haha, was I about to do that?"

"It certainly seemed so Sir."

"Ah, well, right-ho Jeeves."

"Thank you Sir."
...
...
...

*Tinkle*

"*Sigh*"

Chapter Text

Bertie stuck his head round the Kitchen door.

"I say, Jeeves?"

"Yes sir?"

"Um..." One of Bertie's ears flicked nervously.

"Are you... are you particularly busy?"

"Not particularly sir. Do you require my help with something?"

Bertie's tail waved uncertainly.

"Umm, yes, well, sort of, uh... Look, uh, would you mind dreadfully coming over here?"

Jeeves followed his master into the living room, surpressing his confusion.

Bertie sat on the sofa, tail flicking and curling behind him.

"Well, Jeeves, the thing is... well, I've been having the deuce of a time trying to get to sleep for my afternoon nap. I've tried everything! Every spot I could think of! Nothing's working. But I suddenly thought that... well... um..."

Jeeves waited patiently.

Bertie sighed.

"I thought perhaps, a lap? Might just be the ticket. So, I know it's dreadfully unorthodox, but perhaps you could-"

Jeeves had already crossed the room and sat next to his employer.

He half turned his body, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture.

Bertie visibly relaxed, shuffling along the sofa until he could lay down across it, laying his head in Jeeves' lap.

Jeeves let his fingers run through his employer's soft curls, gently tracing the outside edge of one of his ears with the tip of a finger, causing it to twitch.

"I say Jeeves, this is jolly pleasant."

Bertie mumbled, his voice already quiet and slow with sleep.

Jeeves smiled.

"Indeed sir."

...

*Puuuurrrrrrrr*

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"Goodnight Vienna. You pom-tiddly tiddly tiddly-pom. Dum-dee-dee-didd-"

"Sir?"

"Hm? Oh, hello Jeeves!"

"Sir, forgive the imposition, but you are aware that it is 3 in the morning?"

"Oh, is it? Ah! I must be keeping you awake!"

"I regret so sir."

"Oh, I am dreafully sorry old fruit. It's just- well I couldn't quite get to sleep, and the urge to tickle the old ivories rather became overwhelming. I'll uh, try and keep the volume of the wailing down shall I?"

"Thank you very much sir."

"Well, uh, nighty night Jeeves."

"Goodnight sir."

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When the loud 'CRASH' came from the kitchen, Jeeves was glad that his bed-side clock showed it was 5:56 am, as it was almost time for him to wake up anyway. He slipped his dressing gown on and padded into the kitchen.

Mr. Wooster looked up guiltily from where he was sitting on the counter. Jeeves barely restrained a sigh and went to pick up the kettle his master had knocked onto the floor.

He looked up at his employer, who gave him a nervous smile. "Eheh, sorry about that Jeeves." "Is there something you require sir?" "Umm, well, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I would love a cup of tea."

Bertie hopped off the counter as Jeeves set about making the tea, making one for himself, as it was his breakfast time. He nearly dropped the cups in his hands as he felt something brush against his back. "*ahem* Did you require something else sir?" "Hmm? Oh, no. Carry on Jeeves."

Jeeves carried on, making the tea, and not commenting on his employer. Bertie stayed gently pressed against Jeeves' back, and after a moment, put his chin on Jeeves' shoulder. Neither of them said anything, and soon enough, the kitchen filled with the gentle sound of purring.

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"Sir?"

Bertie stiffened on his seat on the piano bench, glancing guiltily at Jeeves without turning his head.

"Sir, what do you have in your mouth?"

Bertie blinked at him, still not quite facing him, jaw moving subtly.

Jeeves sighed. "Sir..." Bertie was moving before the word was out of his mouth. Fortunately, Jeeves was very well-trained, and had tackled his employer to the sofa before he'd taken two steps. He held tight to Bertie as his employer wriggled and struggled, furiously clenching his teeth.

"Sir please! Open your mouth!" Bertie shook his head as Jeeves squeezed his cheeks, attempting to force Bertie's mouth open.

Eventually the Young Master relented, allowing Jeeves to pry his teeth apart. A well-chewed tie-pin now rested between Jeeves' fingers.

Jeeves sighed, reflecting that at least it was one of the tie-pins he himself was less fond of. Bertie had gone very still in his arms.

"Uh," He coughed nervously. "Sorry about that, Jeeves." Jeeves sighed, absent-mindedly scratching his fingers through Bertie's hair. Bertie relaxed under his fingers, a gentle purr rumbling through him, his tail lightly curling around Jeeves' leg.

"Please do not let it trouble you sir." Bertie pushed his head into Jeeves' hand, purr growing in volume. Jeeves couldn't help the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth.

"Though I must request that you not do this again." Bertie chuckled, a little self-consciously. "Right-ho Jeeves."

Chapter Text

"Jeeves?"

"Yes sir?"

"Is it possible you disapprove of this new tie of mine?"

"It is not my place to express such opinions sir."

"Right. Well it's not quite my place to call another man a liar, but I should like to point out that your ears are flat against your head and your tail is bushy as a bottle-brush."

"..."

"..."

"*ahem* If you do not require anything else sir, I have some matters to attend to."

Chapter Text

Bertie burst through the kitchen door, eyes wild and tail stuck straight out behind him. Since Jeeves was a professional, he didn't startle around or drop the cup he was cleaning, he merely turned with it still in his hands.

"Do you require assistance sir?" Bertie startled at Jeeves' voice, as though he hadn't noticed Jeeves was there.

Feeling his concern rising, Jeeves took a hesitant step forward. "Sir?"

Bertie jumped at Jeeves' movement, before turning and sprinting out of the room. Jeeves followed quickly.

Bertie was standing stock still in the middle of the living room, that same wild, wide-eyed look on his face, tail whipping from side-to-side.

As Jeeves watched, Bertie scrambled from his place on the carpet, tripping over his own feet as he raced toward the bedroom. This time Jeeves elected to not follow him, instead listening in concern to what sounded like the young master jumping on the bed.

Just as he was about to approach the room, Bertie reappeared, stood once again in the middle of the carpet, then slumped onto the chesterfield.

Jeeves cautiously approached, and gently cleared his throat. Bertie looked up him, a little blurrily. He was flexing his claws, seemingly absent-mindedly.

"Do you... Do you require anything, sir?"

Bertie gave him a tired smile.

"I'd love a cup of tea, actually Jeeves." "Of course sir." "Thanks awfully."

As Jeeves made his way back to the kitchen, he reflected that if this was going to be a regular part of this employment, he'd have to move the more fragile household objects to higher shelves.

Chapter Text

*shf shf shf*

"Sir?" "Hm? Yes Jeeves?" "Is there something unsatisfactory about my dusting?" "What? Oh, no, not at all! Most satisfactory, splendid job, carry on." "Thank you sir."

...

*shf shf shf*

"Sir." "Yes?" "Forgive the imposition, but the dusting would go faster were you not standing right behind me." "Oh! Right-o! Sorry." "Not at all sir. Thank you sir."

...

*shf shf-* "HYAH!" *smeck* "..." "..." Jeeves looked at his employer, whose hands were still pinning the duster to the wall, despite the nearly comical look of embarrassment on his face.

"Sir?" "Y-yes, Jeeves?" "Is it possible you wish to play with the duster?"

Bertie coughed, finally letting go of the duster and stepping back, allowing Jeeves to reclaim it. "Nonsense! I'm a fully grown man! And an English one at that! Fully grown English men do not go about playing with feather dusters!" "Just as you say sir."

...

*shf shf* *swish* ... *shf shf* *swish*

"*Ahem* Sir?" "Y-yes Jeeves?" "It has always been my feeling that a man should be at liberty to do as he wishes in his own home." "R-really Jeeves? No offence meant but one wouldn't think that was your feeling given the way you object to the young master's wardrobe." "If you will forgive me sir; your wardrobe will be seen and judged by the company you keep. But when alone in his own home, a man should be free of judgement." Bertie squirmed on his seat, tail waving in agitation. "So... by that logic, if I'm following you correctly Jeeves... my playing with the duster, wouldn't offend?" Jeeves allowed himself a small smile, turning towards his employer, gently waving the duster back and forth, and watching Bertie's pupils dilate.

"Not in the least sir."

...

It should have been embarrassing for at least one of them. Jeeves, swishing and waving the duster back and forth, and Bertie, batting at and pouncing on it.

But Jeeves found he couldn't care what the society outside their door might think, as his master gambled and played, purring and laughing, free of care or concerns.