Work Text:
It had changed, Henry Jekyll thought to himself, the feeling of being Edward Hyde.
In the beginning, when Hyde had first come into being, the pair had shared everything. For Henry, being Hyde had felt like sitting in a railroad car and watching the world roll by, knowing full well where the train was going and why he had chosen to board it. Whenever Henry had sent Hyde to do his business, such as getting rid of the hypocrites of the hospital board one by one, he had been right there, watching on and enjoying every moment. A euphoric jolt still ran through him when he remembered how it had felt like when Hyde had pushed a knife into their first victim.
But sometimes, and these days more often than not, Hyde’s actions were hidden away from Henry. Instead of sitting in the railroad car, it was like Henry watched Hyde walking down a street that disappeared beneath a thick layer of fog. Instead of peering out a window, Hyde taking over felt like Henry was just about to fall asleep. His mind felt warm and empty but with a million thoughts racing through it at the same time – and then, all of a sudden, he woke up somewhere else, unaware of how long it had been and what had happened.
Unaware, except for those brief occasions when a memory resurfaced from under the haze.
Usually, the reemerging memories were of exhilarating moments that made Henry’s heart jump, quick but intensely felt flickers of flying high or receiving pleasure. But sometimes, the glimpses he saw crossed the line between merely distasteful and truly disturbing. And the worst thing was that with these memories, he could never be quite certain if they were real, or something that his broken mind had conjured up while under Hyde’s influence.
Just two days ago, a memory had resurfaced where Henry was looking on while Hyde was dragging a very beautiful, very pale, decidedly dead young woman out of a coffin. Then the vision had faded to black. It had left Henry distressed, unable to put the scene out of his mind. If what he saw had really taken place… he didn’t know what Hyde was planning on doing with the corpse, or indeed had done with it, but every new option he came up with sent further chills down his spine.
Was that how he truly was like?
It terrified Henry how these days, Hyde seemed to have a mind all of his own. He went his own way, leaving scrapes and bruises on the body they shared and filling the corners of Henry’s mind with vague, disconcerting memories – but at the same time, transforming between the two states of being had become deceptively easy. At first, it had been a painful, nauseating ordeal. Nowadays, it was like slipping in and out of a dream.
It was like slipping, and now, the time had come to slip out of it.
Henry came to his senses, one by one. The first thing that entered his consciousness was the sound of heavy breathing – his own. Then – the sight of a familiar room, curtains closed, lit only by a flickering flame in the fireplace. And then – oh – the feeling of arousal, and the form of a man kneeling between his legs with his mouth around his–
Oh God.
Oh God.
“John!”
John lifted his head up and shot a perplexed look at Henry.
“No, keep going!”
Eyes wide, Henry watched as John did as he was told.
Henry felt certain it was not the first time Hyde and John had engaged in activities like this. His mind was hazy, but the body he shared with Hyde had a memory of its own. He knew the feeling of his fingers in John’s hair, he knew how John’s mouth felt on him, he knew how it was like to come–
For a while, the room was quite still.
Henry didn't tell John that Hyde had gone away, but he wondered if John could tell it anyway. He had a feeling that Hyde didn’t usually give John very much in return, what with John's visible surprise when Henry reached for him to repay the favour, and the way putting his mouth on John didn’t feel instantly familiar. If anything, it felt awkward – but, encouraged by the way John gasped and muttered a string of profane words he had never heard him use before, Henry kept going.
Hyde might’ve not felt the need to take turns, but Henry wanted to do it. He wanted to give John pleasure, wanted to find out how to make him lose himself in his touch. Just a couple of months ago, whenever such a thought had crossed his mind, he had tried his hardest to banish it… but now, when all his efforts to lead a normal life had fallen apart around him, it felt almost natural.
Or the least of his problems, anyway.
For a while, it was just the two of them, Henry with his mouth and hands on John, and John digging his fingers into Henry’s skin and moaning with pleasure, and as long as that lasted, Henry didn’t have to think about all the ways his life was ruined beyond repair.
Instead, he thought about how easy it would be, to just stay here. To let John shelter him. To let him come up with a way of making everything all right again, or at least better. John was always the one to get people out of trouble, he had done it so many times before, maybe he could do it even now – and besides, Henry was struck by the thought, it wasn’t like he had any other choice. Knowing what Henry now knew about the relations John and Hyde were having, certainly it would be in John’s best interest to make sure that Hyde’s misdeeds stayed a secret.
But Hyde wouldn't have it.
Hyde never cared about consequences. Instead, he was always looking for the next surge of excitement, the next rule to break. And now that he had broken free, he didn’t want to be sheltered or concealed anymore. Being able to slip behind the facade of the respectable Dr. Jekyll was the only safeguard Hyde felt he needed. Clearly, he wasn’t going to do as he was told anymore.
Henry knew he wouldn't stay around for long.
And indeed, when John Utterson finished, Henry Jekyll was already gone.