RL with Apollo- Bertie's got a husband!
Comfortably ensconced beneath his blankets, Bertie squirmed a little, making small, snuffling noises of contented sleepiness. Instinctively, he cuddled up to the warm shape of a body next to him, one long leg slipping over those of his companion. The moment was so lovely, in fact, that Bertie didn't even really mind when he found himself drifting slowly but steadily into wakefulness. It was a rare thing indeed that he awoke before Jeeves arrived with his morning tea, and usually it entailed aunts or Fink-Nottles or other undesirables hanging on the bell, requesting the dubious honour of Bertram's presence. At this moment though, it was nothing but him and Apollo. Bertie wriggled onto his side, facing the other man, and the sleepy smile he gave him was so soppy, it might well have been worthy of Madeleine Bassett herself.
He lay quite contentedly for an indeterminate amount of time, warm and fuzzy under his blankets, in the weak, warm rays of the rising sun that filtered in through the window, until he realised precisely where he was.
They were in his flat. In his bed. Bertie's eyes shot open, and he flipped over, groping for the alarm clock on his nightstand. 9:45. Jeeves was due to shimmer in with the old breakfast tray at any moment, and here Bertie was, lying in an unmistakably intimate embrace with another man. Another man who- as was his habit- was sleeping entirely naked.
He clutched frantically at his face for a moment before turning back to Apollo, shaking him hard. 'Dash it all, wake up!' He hissed. 'We are in the wrong house, O l. of the Wooster b. If Jeeves finds us here...' he trailed off with a little shiver, before shoving at Apollo's shoulder again. Getting thrown in chokey for gross indecency would be just the way to ruin what had started off as a lovely morning.
He lay quite contentedly for an indeterminate amount of time, warm and fuzzy under his blankets, in the weak, warm rays of the rising sun that filtered in through the window, until he realised precisely where he was.
They were in his flat. In his bed. Bertie's eyes shot open, and he flipped over, groping for the alarm clock on his nightstand. 9:45. Jeeves was due to shimmer in with the old breakfast tray at any moment, and here Bertie was, lying in an unmistakably intimate embrace with another man. Another man who- as was his habit- was sleeping entirely naked.
He clutched frantically at his face for a moment before turning back to Apollo, shaking him hard. 'Dash it all, wake up!' He hissed. 'We are in the wrong house, O l. of the Wooster b. If Jeeves finds us here...' he trailed off with a little shiver, before shoving at Apollo's shoulder again. Getting thrown in chokey for gross indecency would be just the way to ruin what had started off as a lovely morning.