Work Text:
Black black heart
why would you offer more
"Time to suck cock, mister."
"Master Donovan, could you stop with that. It's... weird." Donovan raised an eyebrow, unbuttoning his zipper.
"Alright, liebling." As Jeeves looked at him incredulously, he pushed the man's head to his crotch.
"Mouth open, sweet thing. Now, there's a good boy." Jeeves didn't know if that was better or worse than "my man" and "mister", but he was getting undeniably aroused.
Melinda entered the room to find her husband smoking casually, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, exposing lean veiny forearms.
"Dear?" She pointed at their butler looking absolutely miserable, kneeling, face pressed between his employer's spread legs, mouth unmistakably full, throat may be as well. Was hard to tell with how thick his flushed neck was.
"Working on this princeling's gag reflex, dearest. No matter." He patted the sofa next to him, ignoring the huff Jeeves let out. "You have something for me?"
Melinda sat down next to him, using his thigh as a handrest. "There's an invite for dinner with Rochesters, on 17th. We should go."
Donovan frowned, took another drag and put the cigarette out, to not further insult her sensibilities with the smoke.
"Even if I decide he's worth something, that won't help him now. Roland wants his head."
Melinda nodded, "I am well aware, darling. But I have on good authority that Yilmaz will be there as well. A good opportunity to get him away from his father for once."
Donovan sighed and turned more fully to her, the action jostling poor man beneath him into gasping.
"How good is your source?" Melinda gave him an insulted look, and after a few moments of wordless arguing he stroked her chin in apology. "Alright, yes, then we are going. Jeeves, you noted this?"
The man nodded, the action only lodging the offending cock deeper into his throat.
"A cigarette."
Jeeves was a fast learner. He rolled the thing just the way he was shown, the lines perfectly even, the thickness evenly distributed.
"Like this?"
His fingers smelled of tobacco as he softly placed the end product between Donovan's lips, unnecessarily close, lingering to tease a cleanly shaven jaw with the tip of his thumb before retreating.
A snap of a lighter, the tip of the cigarette caught flame. With an inhale Donovan glanced at his watch, then at the brat still leaning over his chair, pretending to be an efficacious asset of a servant.
He took just one drag.
Then, tapping the offending hand aside, Donovan grabbed the back of the obediently bent neck, marvelling yet again at the thickness and strengths of muscle there. With the next exhale he breathed the dour smoke from his lungs straight into the boys's mouth, making him choke and cough on it.
Their eyes met, squinted with derision opposite ones widened in surprise. Lowering his eyelashes Jeeves submitted to the kiss, and in reward Donovan navigated their joined mouths towards something drawn out and pleasurable, cigarette still smouldering between his fingers as the overzealous attendant ended up shamelessly straddling his leg.
Donovan pushed the man away carelessly just in time when the knock on his door came.
He was lucky that all they had were these three minutes before the meeting started, otherwise he wouldn't be looking so pleased stepping behind the wide chair, not a hair out of place, just his lips this tiny bit swollen.
Pulling out roughly, Donovan didn't leave him any space to think or breathe, pressing their mouths together almost immediately.
Shocked at the intrusion, tongue a bit sensitive from all the vigorous thrusting and sucking, Jeeves keened softly as Donovan licked into him insistently.
Somehow this was making him more lightheaded than any deepthroating, the knuckle gently tracing his cheekbone sending a shiver through his spine at how disproportionate it felt to the rough manhandling of a few minutes before.
"Sir, we're here," the driver informed, his voice clear, since no one bothered to raise the partition at the beginning of the ride.
Donovan parted from the man, with satisfaction drinking in the sight of half lidded violet eyes.
Still. So. Fucking. Easy.
As Jeeves was raising himself onto the seat, Donovan, face already cold and menacing, ready to face the world, made sure to bump his knee against the man's half hard cock.
They were alone in the smoke filled room, the private study, the one leading to Donovan's bedroom. Going over the lines of transactions that officially didn't exist, that should and could be not traced back to the Desmond Group or even Ostania, matching frowns of concentration on their faces in the half-darkness well past midnight.
As the clock counted another half-hour Donovan stretched tiredly, took a sip of whatever drink they had on hand, sighed, came to lean against the desk on Jeeves' side and silently held a palm open, expecting a neat little smoking treat.
The attendant sighed in exasperation. The smoke permeated the air, the papers neatly separated into four columns on the desk, the clothes and hair.
"Maybe that's enough for tonight," he stated calmly, meeting the dark displeased gaze without reservation.
"Enough?" Donovan wondered, sizing him up.
"That would seem so," Jeeves stood his ground, knowing that Lord Desmond wouldn't bother with rolling his own cigarettes.
Lord Desmond instead after some silent consideration took him by the tie, and almost without conscious thought J was ready to kneel, hands going to unbuckle his master's belt.
Breaking the well established routine, Donovan tugged him up though, closer to himself.
This close, Jeeves was slightly taller, and there was something almost... playful in the way Donovan met his gaze heads on.
"Tonight, since you're so... assertive," he relaxed his grip on the tie, let it fall and slither between his slender fingers, a reminder of how good he was with all kinds of ropes and knots, as he honest to god twirled it, "just tonight, you may lead."
Jeeves' brain froze for a second as he computed what that meant, all his systems showing error message, sirens blaring. It had been made very clear years ago that Donovan would never be the one on the receiving end of anything and would tolerate nothing but submission, not shy to reinstate the hierarchy with a slap of his surprisingly heavy hand when necessary. And he did not tolerate even the barest hint of power against him.
Donovan chuckled at the chaos he wrought, turned to press himself against the edge of the desk fully, its height perfect for him to almost sit on (and bend his lovely wife over, of course) presenting an almost coy image to his shocked audience. A slim figure in his tailored shirt and slacks, tie and vest in perfect arrangement, hair slicked back, not a disarrayed strand to see even after hours of rigorous working.
"Think faster, darling," he teased, voice still with an inflection of command, "I am not offering a second time."
He swallowed in anticipation as something clicked in his obedient boy's head, raised to his full height now, shoulders this bit wider, poised to attack.
Jeeves' eyes darkened as he stepped to fully cage his boss against his own desk, hands on either side of him — an unabashed rare display of power as the neutral mask slipped from his face, revealing something raw and murderous underneath.
Why would you make it easier
on me to satisfy