so i tried to write this in a similar style to books written in this age, including the actual book this is from, and idk how well that turned out, especially for the 'scene', but whatever. tumblr makes it hard not to ship these two and im physically incapable of writing jekyll and hyde fic without ti being in the style of the original book

so here have some awkward smut and self cest because i dont know what im doing with my life.

Henry Jekyll awoke with a gasp to the feeling of strange hands running along his body.

He shot upwards, his hands clasping at his sides, attempting to catch the perpetrator, but there was no one there. The feeling, so confusedly manifested, had disappeared upon waking, leaving him with only the ghost of a touch along his sides. It had been gentle, as a lover delicately caressing him, sending pleasant shivers down his spine. It was strange, but it was gone now, leaving him confused and upset.

He struggled to remember what he had been dreaming of before waking, but only flashes of memory returned to him. Bright green eyes, watching over him hungrily, unfamiliar yet so familiar, on the tip of his tongue. Strong but thin hands cupping his face, drawing along his chest and down his stomach, moving back up his sides and to his neck in a large circle. Calloused fingers tracing patterns into his flesh, pressing and caressing breathy moans out of him, but never straying too far.

It was quite the conundrum, but not one Henry could afford to focus on. He had a busy day today, and the problem would have to wait 'till that night for him to think on it again.

He sighed and got up, thinking he might as well start the day off, now that he was up and about anyways. It was still dark outside, a grey mist permeating all of London, masking the buildings and making the gas lamps lights fuzz in the air. But the horizon was lightening, and dawn would soon be upon them. He shucked off his nightwear to begin the day.

After ringing the bell to wake the servants and slipping on his jacket, Henry set out for his laboratory. He would go and check on yesterday's experiment-a continuation of his ongoing feud with Edward Hyde-and see how it was progressing, and by the time he would finish with that, breakfast should be done and ready to eat.

As he walked out into the courtyard and the morning mist, headed for his laboratory, a light touch on his shoulder had him spinning around, startled. The hand he had felt was gone, that who did it nowhere to be seen, leaving him more confused than ever. His hands were up in a weak attempt to defend himself, but from what? The mist?

The touch was gone, but poor Henry was on guard now. He looked around furtively as he sped across the clearing, closing the door carefully behind him, keeping an eye out for anyone. As the touch did not return, and he saw no one near, he guessed he must have imagined it. And as he got to work cleaning and checking things, he cautiously let his guard down.

He worked for a bit, checking chemicals and pH levels on mixtures he had set aside to heat overnight. Anything blackened or burnt was tossed, the vials far too gone to rescue, but those few that had survived the overnight exposure were set carefully aside to examine later.

Then he began to set up for that night's experiments. Several things needed to be done before then, and if he started on them now, it would leave plenty of time that night for him to do the actual experimenting.

His hand was on the door handle, he having finished and prepared to leave, when the ghostly touch from earlier returned. Sure fingers caressed his neck and trailed down his back, resting somewhere above his tailbone and pressing lightly, eliciting a shiver from Henry. His neck prickled, and he could have sworn he felt hot breath wash across the back of it, goosebumps rising on his skin. The fingers pressed harder, and he snapped out of the trance the touches had put him in.

He spun around, intent on catching this specter at work, but it was gone again- or had it ever been there in the first place? Was he imagining all this? The fingers had left him when he turned, leaving him with a ghost of a feeling once more.

"Who is there?" he finally managed to ask, his voice seeming shaking. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Speak now, ghost. Why do you touch me so?"

But no one responded, as per what he had thought would happen.

He cursed and turned back to the door, staring hard at the handle and waiting for the touch to return. But return it did not, so he turned the handle and left the laboratory, closing the door with far more force than necessary.

He strode across the courtyard quickly, not giving the specter a chance to keep up with him, and soon made his way back into the building and into the dining room. Breakfast was set up, as he had predicted, and Mr. Pool was waiting at the side of his seat.

"How are you, sir?" he asked, clearly seeing something was wrong with his master.

Henry schooled his features into something less spooked, less irritated, and said "I am fine, good man. No worries."

Poole nodded and began to leave, when Henry was struck with a sudden thought. "Wait!"

He coughed as Poole jumped, startled at his outburst. "Apologies. Why don't you dine with me this morning? We could chat for a bit before I am off to work. Come on, old friend. We haven't done that in ages!"

Henry's real thoughts were that the touch might leave him alone if another was present, but he did not let his butler in on that thought. Though Mr. Poole was a wonderful man and a stellar servant, Henry feared the madhouse, talking of ghostly touches and phantoms in the night. No, he would keep this to himself for now, though he would not hesitate to take advantage of Poole's presence to rid him of the feeling for at least awhile.

Poole sat at the other end, not without a dash of confusion, and nodded as another servant brought out a second tray for him. He watched his master carefully as they folded their napkins in their laps and began their meal.

"So how has the family been, Poole?" Henry asked after a moment, dreading the silence and thoughts brought on by it. He deigned to fill it with idle chatter.

Poole swallowed and said "They are fine. The children continue their studies, and Mrs. Poole visits her friends near daily now."

"That's good, that's good," Henry responded, nodding. "How about the other servants? How have they been? I have not spoken to them much lately."

Unsureness marred Poole's features, but he answered yet. "They are well as well. Victoria and her children recently moved houses, and Gregory's wife has taken ill, but she is expected to make a full recovery before the week's end. What I am wondering, sir, if I may ask: why the sudden interest?"

Henry started. "Why what? I have always been interested in your lives, I have just been too busy as of late to keep up with things."

"With all due respect, sir," Poole interrupted, "that is a lie. You have never once before asked after my family, and the other servants, while not having been scorned by you, have fallen under your disinterest more often than not."

Henry pshawed, waving his hand and picking up his fork without making eye contact with his dear butler. "You are wrong, dear fellow, you just haven't noticed my interest as of yet."

Poole did not look convinced, but he let the matter at hand drop and went back to his meal.

Henry let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. So far, everything was going relatively well, comparatively. The food was nice, the conversation was awkward, but going well, and best of all, that blasted invisible touch hadn't-

His foot jerked out, kicking the leg of the table, as a light touch landed gently on his knee. "God!"

Poole leapt out of his seat, hand clutching his breast as he shouted at the outburst. "Dear God, sir, what happened?"

"Nothing!" Henry snapped, panicking. The touch refused to leave, even as he shifted his knee back and forth, attempting valiantly to escape it or throw it off. It stayed, inching higher along his thigh, delicate but strong fingers alternately pressing and caressing his skin through the fabric of his slacks. He shivered as they made their way up his leg, but struggled to keep a straight face. "I am fine! Sit! Please!"

Poole was getting more and more suspicious, but he did not speak his suspicions, instead gathering himself and carefully returning to his seat. "How has work been with Dr. Lanyon?" he asked politely, still staring at his master strangely. "I have not heard from him in quite awhile, nor has he placed a visit to your estate."

Henry's face twisted as the ghostly hand continued its search up his thigh, nearing dangerous territory. "He is fine as well!"

Poole watched as Henry did a little wiggle in his seat, trying to throw the hand off but passing it off as readjusting his position for ease of comfort. "Are you quite alright, sir?"

"Again, good man, I am fine!" Every time Henry shifted, the touch moved higher, brushing against certain parts that Henry hadn't felt touched by another since his days at uni. He gulped, heat racing to his cheeks and down his spine, the touches to his parts getting surer and stronger. He stifled a moan, embarrassment streaking through his consciousness. "Dear Poole, ah, sir…" he trailed off, breathing heavily, and struggled to collect himself as the mysterious touch relentlessly felt him up. "Could you, could you take leave of our meal? I have, ah, enjoyed you c-company, but it is high time we retired for the evening, eh?"

Poole nodded slowly, suspicious eyes never leaving his master, but he relented and picked up his plate, heading towards Henry to retrieve his as well.

Henry crossed his legs in an effort to hide his growing shame of the situation present, and nodded politely as Poole gathered his dishes. With one last curious look, the man exited the room.

All at once, Henry sagged in his chair, releasing the tension that had been building and building and then arching his back as the feelings intensified tenfold. A ragged moan tore itself from his lips, labored breaths stuttering and tapering into low groans while he thrashed and growled and his skin alighted with sparks and darts. A particularly rough stroke on his member made him catch his breath and clench his eyes shut, for it was all becoming too much, too quick, and any moment he would-

And it stopped. Henry huffed out a breath, raising his head from where it had fallen back, and gasped at the sight before him.

Hyde himself was crouching over him, grinning a salacious grin that set Henry's cheeks aflame with how dirty it looked. His hands were currently down Henry's pants. His tongue darted out to lick his lips as Henry saw him, and his look intensified.

"H-H-Hyde!" Henry shouted. He scrambled to back away, but only managed to almost tilt his chair over. Instead, Hyde caught him by his hands, bringing him closer until their noses were almost touching. Henry held his breath as Hyde spoke.

"Hello, doctor."

Henry gulped, then asked "W-Why are you here? Why are you doing this to me?"

Hyde chuckled darkly, leaning in even further but to where his teeth scraped gently along the shell of Henry's ear. He was leaning over him, standing, but crouching, in a manner similar to a possessive gargoyle hoarding its prey. The way he stood sent shivers down Henry's spine, as if her were owned, possessed, the property of the man in front of him that belonged only in his mind, yet was somehow separate from himself at the moment. It was quite perplexing, and had Hyde's tongue not been tracing patterns down Henry's neck towards his shoulder, he would have given it more thought.

Henry gasped as his other half nipped at a spot on his throat, where shoulder met neck. His slacks strained, interest in the situation having flagged briefly, but shown again as Hyde's possessive nature made itself known. He struggled in Hyde's grip, attempting to remove himself from his counterpart, but nothing seemed to work, as the man's hold grew only stronger and his attacks bolder.

"H-How are you doing this?" Henry managed to stutter out, the why having been forgotten by both. "You are, ah, you're not separate from me, I didn't- didn't make you so, and yet you're, hhhh… you're here, in front of me, t-touching me…"

Hyde's hand had snaked its way down his chest, tracing lines with deft fingertips and tweaking parts of him that brought out low moans, until it settled between Henry's legs once more. He stroked idly as he thought, not seeming to notice that he was bringing his other half closer and closer to the edge as he did, or either not caring.

He finally brought their faces together again, to where Henry could see every fleck of color in Hyde's maniacal eyes, where the glint off his teeth made Henry stumble over his breath again, and whispered, low and dirty. "You're lonely, dear doctor."

"W-What?" Henry asked, confused. He hadn't even known he felt that way, how could Hyde know?

Hyde's grin was unsettling, and never left his face. "You need company, and sadly, I'm the only one who gets to give it." His tongue darted out again to lick his lips, but this time, he was close enough to his counterpart that it slid deftly across Henry's before slipping back into his mouth. "You're lonely, and no one wants you." He leaned closer until their lips were barely touching. "Except me."

He captured Henry's lips in a searing kiss, banishing all thought from the poor doctor's mind with that single action. His lips slid across Henry's, tongue catching the other man's up in a dance that sent all sorts of evil sparks dancing down his spine. He was talented, and soon had his other half in a panting, moaning mess, and he hadn't even begun to move his hand again.

He slipped into the doctor's lap, writhing against him in such a way that had Henry growling. He seized Hyde's hips, pulling him closer, all thoughts about how this was wrong and weird and unnatural gone from his head, the only thought between them being that clothes needed to disappear and soon. His hands slid under Hyde's vest, untucking his shirt and running across the bare skin that was presented, nails digging into his flesh as Hyde bucked above him, driving their arousals together.

Their chests pressed close as they kissed furiously, everything heat and need and want want want until all at once it stopped, searing white overtaking Henry's mind as he fell over into the abyss, into Hell awaiting him for what he made of his life and this moment.

Finally, finally, it slowed to a stop. The world, which had somehow sped up to unknowable speeds and frozen, continued the way it was, and Henry came down from his high. He blinked, not seeing a thing in front of him, the pressure from the man that had been sitting in his lap all but gone. Hyde was nowhere to be seen, but the evidence of his influence shone brightly as the dark stain on Henry's trousers.

He grimaced and looked around, wondering where Hyde had gone off to, but even though he asked "Hyde?" he got no response.

He stood slowly, on shaking legs, as the post-orgasmic endorphins slowly filtered their way out of his system, and headed off towards his room. He really needed to get changed, before Poole or one of the other house servants saw him in this state. And he needed to get somewhere private so he could figure out a way to contact Hyde and ask him what in blue blazes had just happened, and where/why he had just up and left like that.

Throwing open the door to his chambers, Henry's eyes alighted on a scrap of paper, laid carefully in the middle of his bed. He snatched it up, looking about the room to see if the perpetrator was still there, but there was no one. He held it up to the light and read it, then smiled. After a minute of deliberation, he walked over to the dresser and placed it in the top drawer, underneath the clothes there. He smiled to himself, and nodded, closing the drawer.

That would be a conundrum for another day. For now, he would sleep well.

Dear Henry,

If you're ever feeling lonely again, know I will be there.

You. Are. Mine.

Love, Edward.