Summary: Rufus trusts Reim to perform some special duties of a personal nature. The two men have had a lot practice together, but sometimes encounters don't go exactly as planned. Fluff. Some smut. Kink meme prompt.

Words: 1358

Rating: First chapter is PG-13, then it's NC-17ish.

Writer's Note: This was the kink meme request: "ReimRufus. Yeah, in this order. ANYTHING. Fluff or smut, or 2in1 (lol), I don't care. All Anon-san wants is adorable!Rufus and manly!Reim xDDD"

Whenever I put two people together who we normally don't see together in "this way" I try to think of what characteristics we have seen of them in the manga and try to find the points of intersection. In the case of Reim and Rufus, my understanding is that both men generally prefer to remain within a comfort zone of what is orderly, predictable and known, and I figure that being together would likely enhance those tendencies.

Thanks to total_alias for beta reviewing!

(1)

Reim Lunettes entered the library of Barma manor to find Duke Rufus Barma slumped over a table, his face resting on top of an opened hardbound volume. He put his hand on his lord's shoulder and gently shook him awake.

"Hmm?" The duke opened his eyes sleepily, lifted his head and looked at Reim. "Ah. I appreciate you waking me."

Reim pushed up his glasses and looked sympathetically at the impression that the book's edge had left on the other man's cheek.

"You've been working hard, my lord. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Rufus looked down at his book and closed it, sighing, and then gazed at the chestnut-haired man, who was teetering expectantly back and forth on his heels.

"I could use your help," the duke said slowly, "in applying some pressure to my back…it is rather kinked up at the moment."

"I can do that, my lord. In your chamber, as usual?"

"Yes, I'll meet you there shortly," he murmured, splaying out his fan to disguise the smile forming on his face.

(2)

Reim already had pre-boiled a pot of water on the fire, had several towels of different sizes and a bottle of warm oil at the ready. By the time Rufus returned from the washroom dressed in only a silk robe, his sheets were already turned down and a hot water bottle was between them. Reim rubbed his hands together to warm them, and respectfully looked away as his lord slipped off his robe and into the bed.

The duke twisted his long hair into a sort of ponytail above his head and lay on his stomach, anticipating Reim's next move. From his pillow view, he admired his servant's broad shoulders and strong hands, as they removed a towel from the hot water and wrung it out. Rufus slid the sheet down as Reim walked toward the bed and spread the hot, wet towel against his back.

"This heat will help," Reim said confidently, pressing against Rufus' back through the towel. He began with gently soothing strokes, until he heard the man murmur a bit, then increased the pressure and rubbed until he felt the heat dissipate.

"It's getting cold," Rufus said, weary irritation seeping into his voice.

He always says that, thought Reim, as he peeled the wet towel off bit by bit, drying the moist skin with a warm towel as he went. He then poured a little oil from a flask in his hip pocket into the palm of his hand, rubbed his hands together and slowly crept them in between the other man's bony shoulder blades, pushing more firmly as the duke adjusted to the pressure.

"You'll go a bit lower, of course?" Rufus said in that manner he had – the manner that was as much of a command as it was a request.

"Certainly," Reim said, as he pressed circles down the other man's back with his thumbs. He lingered on his lower back and pressed outward, with firm strokes, until he heard a shuddering sigh, then saw his lord shift his hips and try to cover his face with his hand. This was his cue to blow out all but one of the candles in the candelabra, take off his glasses and climb into bed along side of him.

(3)

Rufus rolled over onto his side facing Reim and pulled the covers up. As soon as both men had their heads on the same pillow, the duke took one of his servant's hands in both of his and pressed it to his lips; each knuckle in turn was visited with flickering kisses. He kissed each knuckle on each hand, and then let his tongue tickle the hollowed-out places between each finger. Reim smiled his happiest closed-mouth smile, for he knew this would be the first of several rewards for a job well done.

"There's something else I need from you," Rufus whispered, still clutching Reim's right hand in his. "And you probably already know what it is."

"Indeed," Reim whispered back. "We'll come to it slowly, as always?"

"As always."

Rufus moved his face toward Reim's and they pressed their lips together. Their kisses were never so much romantic as they were practical: one step on a path to a more intense and needful gratification, which began with a quickening of the blood and continued with quivering exhalations.

Rufus began undoing the buttons on Reim's shirt in a meticulous and careful manner, letting in a slight chill from the cool air in the room. Once his clothes had been cast aside, Reim knew he'd be expected to press himself against his master's bare body, and then run his fingers through his long, auburn hair, massaging the scalp with firm strokes, as he pulled the man's lips into his once again. They lay like this for a while, gradually becoming more engrossed, their legs entwined: the duke warmed his cold feet on the back of Reim's calves and relaxed into the soothing strokes of the other man's hands against his body.

When Rufus rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, Reim knew he was ready for the next step. He sat up, pooled some oil in his hand, grasped his master's length and began to summon it to full attention. He watched the other man's face with rapt attention, waiting eagerly for those occasional moments when the duke would let down his guard, part his lips, tilt back his head and make some involuntary gasp or exhalation.

A moment later, he looked at his servant with languid eyes, his face lightly flushed.

"Would you…care to navigate the windward passage?" he queried, his voice tremulous.

Reim smiled slightly at his lord's endearing use of antiquated language and euphemism. He nodded, and Rufus rolled over, his back to Reim, as he preferred to be taken from behind so he could keep his facial expressions to himself while he was penetrated.

"Oh, that's very … mmm…" Rufus managed to mutter before pressing his face into the pillow to stifle a low moan.

Reim reached around and began the tricky task of trying to synchronize his thrusts with the movements of his hand on the other man's arousal. He knew that when his master reached a certain degree of hardness and breathlessness – and when his back developed a light film of sweat – it was time to let loose.

But today was different. Reim felt the surge of his lord's blood, the sweat on his back and heard his shuddering groan, and so he let himself come – and indeed, orgasm came to him easily, with its usual force and vigor. Yet Rufus was still unfulfilled. Reim continued to pump the other man with his hand in his sleepy, afterglow state, but several minutes later – nothing.

"I can't…finish," said Rufus, his voice barely audible. I don't know what's wrong, he thought, and I can't admit I don't know. He turned to face Reim, a thin film of sweat on his upper lip.

Reim put a hand on either side of Rufus' face and looked him right in the eyes, with the confidence that comes from years of experience.

"This has happened before," Reim told him. "And you always got through it. You can do it this time, too. Just be patient with yourself."

"The trouble is, I no longer feel like it anymore," Rufus half-whispered. "Perhaps we could just…do something different?"

Reim blinked a few times.

"Of course…what did you have in mind, my lord?"

He took Reim's hands in his own, and gently squeezed his fingers.

"I would like to…fall asleep holding your hands."

In the dim light, he looked at his master's tired gray eyes, and the subtle pleading behind them.

"Certainly," Reim murmured, exhaling a sigh of relief.

Rufus clasped those strong and capable hands in his – those hands that had given him so much gratification – and leaned his forehead against his servant's cheek. The candle reached its end and snuffed itself out, the two mens' eyes flickered shut, drawing an end to a day that had turned out to be not quite so completely routine after all.

END