Jeeves winced at the sight before him as he entered Bertie Wooster's bedroom with his morning tray. Bertie was dreaming, his face flushed, sounds of pleasure emerging from his parted lips. His erection tented the bedclothes as he shifted restlessly. He was a ravishing sight. One that Jeeves had been greeted with for twelve straight mornings.

He'd thought nothing of it at first, except to appreciate the forbidden beauty displayed for him. Bertie was a young man with a young man's appetites. It was perfectly normal. He'd left the room silently, unwilling to cause the young master embarrassment by allowing him to realize the position Jeeves had seen him in.

It took him several days to realize that the situation was not as normal as it appeared. Bertie's erotic dreams had continued, surprising Jeeves with their frequency. In his previous years with Mr. Wooster, they'd been rare at best. He cast his mind back over the past few days until he ascertained the reason for the continued torment. Once he set his mind to it, the reason readily became apparent.

Bertie had not allowed himself release at any point after the dreams.

The tell-tale signs of orgasm are obvious to any good valet no matter how circumspect his employer might be.

Jeeves was a very good valet.

And one who knew all there was to know about his employer. He knew that Bertie had no emotional or sexual entanglements. If he was not indulging in self-gratification, then...

Well. It certainly explained the dreams.

It also explained why Bertie had been looking somewhat drawn over the past few days. Jeeves had feared his master was becoming ill but the truth was much simpler, and much stranger, than he had anticipated.

For he had no idea why his employer would be denying himself release. He'd always indulged freely in other pleasures, it made no sense.

And so Jeeves had stepped back to observe the situation, to try and puzzle out the reason for Mr. Wooster's behavior and to see if it would remedy itself.

After twelve days it was clear that it wouldn't.

*~*~*~*~*

Action needed to be taken.

Bertie was slumped in a chair, fingers nervously tapping against the arm. He'd been oddly silent the entire evening, offering no excuse as to why he had opted to spend the night at home. Jeeves took in the fine lines around his eyes and steeled himself to follow through with his plan of action. Bertie was one of nature's bachelors, his code of honor would never permit him to seek the services of a professional and he would not pleasure himself.

There was only one option left.

Jeeves just hoped that it wouldn't result in him losing his situation.

He set down the tray he carried and coughed his delicate cough. "Excuse me, sir."

Bertie looked up irritably. "Yes Jeeves, what is it?"

The valet stepped forward. "I could not help noticing that you seem to have lint on your jacket and trousers. If you would permit me..."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Jeeves. I'm not going anywhere this evening. What difference does it make?"

"Proper grooming is always important, sir." Jeeves responded, brushing his fingers over the fabric that covered Bertie's chest. The ostensibly professional touch was firmer than he normally used, its purpose not to remove lint but to gauge his master's reaction to his touch.

Bertie's response was immediate. He shifted slightly, breath catching in his throat. As Jeeves watched, his eyes fluttered closed against the almost-caress. Satisfied that his interpretation of the situation had been correct, the valet turned his attention to Bertie's trousers. He repeated the caress against his employer's upper thighs, carefully avoiding the growing bulge between his legs. Bertie moaned softly at the touch, turning his face away from his manservant. His face flamed in embarrassment as his eyes remained tightly closed.

Jeeves swallowed hard and reached out with a hand he did not allow to tremble. Gently cupping the firm length of his employer's erection, he said softly, "Let me help you with this, sir."

Bertie's eyes flew open. "Jeeves?"

Willing his expression to remain inscrutable, the valet replied. "It has been my honor to serve you in all things, sir. I ask you to grant me the liberty to give you what you need."

"What I need?"

Jeeves replied, never moving his hand, "Yes sir, I have noticed your situation over the past days. With your permission, I would ease you."

Bertie stared at him wordlessly for a long moment. Jeeves began to wonder if he had overstepped his bounds too far this time. He would not willingly part from Mr. Wooster for the world but in this circumstance he might not be granted the choice. Bertie dropped his gaze and Jeeves braced himself for the words that would destroy him.

"Carry on, Jeeves."

Heaving an internal sigh of relief, Jeeves moved to kneel between his employer's legs. He made short work of the buttons on Bertie's trousers, wanting to begin before his employer could change his mind. Freeing Bertie's erection, he allowed himself a moment to simply gaze upon the sight before him. He'd seen his employer unclad before on numerous occasions but he'd never seen him in this state of arousal. Flushed and firm, Bertie's length curved towards his belly. Moisture was already gathering at the tip, evidence of how badly he needed this.

Leaning forward, Jeeves pressed his lips reverently against the side of the shaft before flicking out his tongue to swipe at the liquid pooled at the tip. Pausing to savor the salty-bitter flavor, Jeeves closed his eyes for a moment, the sound of Bertie's choked cry still ringing in his ears. His own desire rose at the thought that *he* was doing this to Bertie. *He* was the one giving him pleasure. Although Bertie would never see this as more than another of Jeeves' ways of being indispensable, the valet would always have the memory of this intimacy to treasure. It was far less than he wanted with his employer but more than he had any right to hope for.

Hungry for more of Bertie's unique flavor, Jeeves closed his lips around the tip of his erection and began to suck gently. Instantly the young man tossed his head back, the tendons standing out in his neck as he bit into his lower lip. Encouraged by the expression of agonized pleasure on Bertie's face, Jeeves started to suck harder, taking more of his length into his mouth.

Bertram Wilberforce Wooster was losing his mind. Strike that- he had already lost his mind. That was the only explanation for the situation he found himself in. Because there was no way that Jeeves was doing what he thought he was doing. There was no way that that smooth, dark head was really bobbing up and down in his lap. No way that he was really caressing the velvety sack between his legs. No way that he was really flicking his tongue just there-

Bertie surged out of his chair with a cry, Jeeves' hands moving to his hips to prevent further thrusts. The valet gentled his mouth, not wanting the experience to end so soon. He pulled back to blow a stream of cool air against the tip of Bertie's length. His employer whimpered at the sensation, hands moving to grip the arms of his chair so hard that his knuckles turned white. Jeeves ran the tip of his tongue slowly up the length of Bertie's arousal from root to tip. He then swirled his tongue around the flared head of Bertie's erection, glorying in the muffled moans that reached his ears.

Jeeves risked another look upward and his breath caught at the sight before him. Bertie's face was darkly flushed, his brow dotted with perspiration. His eyes, squeezed shut against the pleasure, opened as though aware of Jeeves' scrutiny. His normally cerulean eyes were dark with desire, their expression slightly wild as he held Jeeves' gaze. The two men stared at each other, frozen in a moment, the silence broken only by Bertie's ragged breathing.

Suddenly certain that his expression was revealing much more than was proper, Jeeves redoubled his efforts, swallowing his employer's length to the root in an effort to distract him. The ploy met with success. Bertie cried out in startled ecstasy, hands moving from the arms of his chair to his manservant's head as he leaned forward.

Bertie's fingers fluttered against Jeeves' dark hair but made no move to guide his movements as the valet had expected. Instead they remained there, petting lightly as though Bertie merely wanted to be assured of his reality. Convinced that he had indulged himself far too long, Jeeves once again pulled Bertie's length down his throat. At the same time he reached to stroke the crumpled velvet sack drawn tight against his chin. He fondled his employer almost roughly, letting his shaft fill his throat.

Moaning almost continually now, Bertie's grip on Jeeves' hair tightened. The valet was too lost in the moment to notice, much less care. He let his teeth scrape lightly against the base of Bertie's erection, dragging another cry from his employer. Pulling back until just the tip of his master's length was left in his mouth, Jeeves lapped repeatedly at the sensitive spot just under the head of Bertie's shaft. Closing his lips once more around the tip, Jeeves sucked hard.

Bertie screamed as he came, arching off his chair. Jeeves swallowed convulsively, not losing a drop of the bitter fluid that tasted like ambrosia to him. He continued to lick and suck as his employer's breathing gradually returned to normal. Once he was satisfied that Bertie was clean, he rearranged his employer's clothing into the immaculate state he always strived for. He then smoothed his own hair, wiling away his arousal before rising. Only then did he dare look into his master's face.

Bertie stared blankly at the ceiling, his normally open expression for once as inscrutable as Jeeves' own. He face was gradually losing the hectic color of arousal but his curly hair was thoroughly mussed. All in all he appeared to have been ravished. Jeeves reflected that this was one circumstance where appearances did not deceive.

For once unable to gauge his employer's mood, the valet stood patiently, waiting for some reaction to the events of the past few minutes. When none was forthcoming he moved to exit, wanting to leave Bertie in peace to ponder whatever it was that he was pondering.

Just as he reached the door, his employer spoke. "Is this a normal part of your duties, Jeeves?"

The valet answered honestly. "None of my previous employers have ever required the service, sir."

"But you thought I did."

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

Jeeves considered, "Sustained tension of any kind is unhealthy, sir. I sought only to remove a source of stress. I apologize if I have offended you, sir. That was not my intention."

Bertie shook his head. "No, no Jeeves. You haven't offended me. I was merely.. taken aback."

"Understandable, sir. Would you prefer me to give you more warning next time?"

"Next time?" Bertie goggled.

His master's shock did not ruffle Jeeves who continued placidly. "Yes, sir. I will add this to my normal roster of duties if it pleases you." He was careful not to allow any hint of his internal turmoil to cross his face. Outwardly he remained calm and dignified, showing no hint of his too-long ignored desire to touch Bertie even once more. Once more to memorize his taste, the sound of his moans. Once more to share that incredible connection. Oh please, just once more...

Bertie stared at him wordlessly for a long moment before saying, "I... I'm not sure if that... Let me think about this for a while, eh Jeeves?"

The valet nodded solemnly, "Yes, sir." With the ease of long practice he ignored the screaming of his heart, locking the pain away until he found an appropriate time to deal with it. "Will that be all, sir?"

Bertie, once again lost in thought, jumped a little at the question. "Yes, that will be all. Thank you, Jeeves."

"My pleasure, sir." His forbidden pleasure. Now that he knew what Bertie tasted like, looked like in the throes of passion, it would be even more difficult to live without that intimacy. Even still... He'd had one moment, more than he'd ever dared to hope for. The memory of that one moment would have to be enough to sustain him through the remainder of his lonely nights.

Bertie, for his part, was thinking harder than he had since he'd opted to let Jeeves take over the run of his life. Everything about the valet's demeanor said that this was merely another service to render, no more personal than pressing a pair of trousers or preparing the morning meal. True it wasn't a service that any of his previous menservants had performed but Jeeves always did believe in going beyond the call of duty. He could almost dismiss it as just another example of Jeeves' feudal spirit, would have if it weren't for the brief glimpse he'd gotten of what lay behind his valet's usual impenetrable mask. For one brief instant they'd looked at each other and Bertie had seen the man inside the manservant.

And it looked like that man loved him.

For the life of him he couldn't imagine why. Mentally negligible; too tall and too thin with a nose on the largish side, it certainly wasn't his overwhelming physical beauty. He could be charming when he had to be but surely that was canceled out by his annoying habit of constantly needing to be rescued from scrape after scrape. What could he possibly offer a man like Jeeves?

This was exactly the kind of situation where he needed Jeeves' superior reasoning skills. Unfortunately, under the circumstances, he could hardly ask him about it.

But... Did it really matter why Jeeves loved him? Wasn't it enough that he did? Bertie had been certain of his own feelings for years, content to love silently and enjoy simply having the marvelous man in his life. Jeeves took care of him, shared his life. Wasn't that enough to ask? Now their relationship had been consummated, after a fashion. All that was left was to put the pieces together. Maybe then some of the gut-wrenching terror he felt each time they had a difference of opinion would fade. Jeeves had left his service once and he'd never quite shaken the fear that he would do it again. If they were tied more strongly...

If they were tied more strongly than that terror would be replaced with the knowledge that one day Jeeves would grow tired of sharing his bed and life with a man he could think circles around. Surely Jeeves wanted more for himself than the certifiable Bertram Wooster. The only way to know for certain was to ask. This circumstance was too important to trust to one of his plans which did have the unfortunate habit of falling apart at the seams. He rang the bell.

Jeeves obligingly materialized before him. "Yes, sir?"

"I'm in a rather rummy situation, Jeeves."

An eyebrow went up a precisely calculated fraction of an inch. "Indeed, sir?"

"Yes, Jeeves. I've recently discovered that one of my acquaintances is believed to be in love with me."

The eyebrow went higher. "'Believed to be', sir?"

"Yes. I find it a bit hard to credit. This person is very intelligent and accomplished. I don't really know what I have to offer." There. Jeeves should be able to take it from there.

Jeeves covered his shock by adopting a pensive expression. He'd been found out. He'd inadvertently revealed his deepest secret and his employer didn't seem revolted. Not only was he not revolted, he actually seemed to believe that he wasn't good enough for his manservant. The valet couldn't imagine how even his normally confused employer could get *that* notion so backward. Unable to quite accept what he was hearing, he asked, "You find it hard to believe that this person would desire you, sir?"

"Yes Jeeves, I do rather. We both know that I'm not much in the brains department and appearance-wise I'm adequate at best. What could a wonder like this person possibly want with me?" Why me, Jeeves? Out of everybody in the world, why did you choose *me*?

The valet looked intently at his master, who gazed back guilelessly. They both knew what they were really talking about, hiding behind layers of propriety and convention. At the very least, Jeeves reflected, he would be granted the opportunity to speak his heart to his unattainable master. "Perhaps it was your kind heart that attracted this person to you, sir."

"My heart?"

"Yes, sir. Your sweet nature, thoughtfulness and compassion are some of your best qualities. I believe that your admirer values those traits."

Bertie nodded slowly. "So you think all that makes up for not being overly bright?"

Jeeves seemed surprised that his employer had to ask the question. "Of course, sir. Those are all virtues to be prized above rubies."

"So you think it is possible that this person might indeed be in love with me?"

"I feel it is most likely, sir."

Bertie rose from his seat and advanced upon the valet. Searching his eyes, he asked quietly, "And it's really love, Jeeves? The 'happily ever after 'till death do us part' kind?"

Dropping all pretense, Jeeves answered honestly. "It is, sir. I dare not hope for requital but my feelings for you are everlasting." Unable to hold Bertie's gaze a moment longer, he looked away before continuing, "I shall seek other employ if that is your wish."

Bertie rested a gentle hand on Jeeves' chest. "I don't think that will be necessary. I didn't mention it before but I've been in love with this admirer of mine for some years now."

Jeeves reached a hand, that would have been described as trembling had it belong to anybody else, to cover Bertie's where it lay against his chest. "Years, sir?" he queried, finally daring to look into his master's eyes.

Bertie smiled faintly. "Ever since the time you left me to work for Chuffy." His gaze once again became serious. "I couldn't get along without you, Jeeves."

The valet inhaled sharply, before raising the hand he held to his lips and placing a fervent kiss to its palm. "Could I work my will, you shall never have to, sir."

"Excellent news, Jeeves." Bertie smiled devilishly. "And one more thing."

"Yes, sir?"

"After due consideration I feel that the services you rendered this afternoon should definitely be added to your regular nightly duties." His smile gentled. "I do requite thee Jeeves. It is requite, isn't it?"

Jeeves returned Bertie's smile with a rare one of his own. "It is indeed. Bertie."

And the kiss that followed was quite as satisfactory as either could have hoped.