#jekyll pre-hyde still showing nasty hyde bits

[nik-the-bik]

"Glove" - Jekyll/Utterson

The Henriel well has run dry so I've had to resort to actually finishing my own stuff. Wack.

Summary: Utterson finds something he lost. Jekyll is kind of a freaky dude.

Content Warnings: period-appropriate attitudes towards homosexuality, descriptions of sexual acts, alcohol mention, some angst

***

A loud knock echoed down Gaunt Street as the esteemed Dr. Jekyll stood at the door of his old friend, Mr. Utterson. While his face remained cool, his fingers fidgeted with the cuff of his jacket, betraying an otherwise invisible unease. The habit ended immediately as the door was opened by Mr. Utterson’s house staff, who beckoned the familiar face into the home. Dr. Jekyll admired the neat, simple, gray house as he was ushered into Utterson’s study, where the gentleman was at work over a pile of papers.

“Dr. Jekyll, a pleasant surprise!” spoke Utterson, head straightening as his boyhood friend entered. While Utterson rarely smiled, Jekyll caught himself skipping a breath when he met the man’s eyes, which shined with a warm delight at seeing him.

How did he manage to do this every time?

Jekyll cleared his throat, raising a hand to cover his mouth and hopefully any change to his complexion. “Good morning, Mr. Utterson.”

“To what do I owe the visit?” Utterson asked, rising from his seat. “From what you told me last night, I was under the impression that your schedule was booked up for the next few weeks.”

Jekyll raised an eyebrow at Utterson. “Would you prefer I didn’t see you again so soon?”

Now it was Utterson who had a rush of color to his cheeks. “Well, that’s not what I meant, of course. You know you’re always welcome, Harry.”

Jekyll beamed. “Excellent.” The doctor grasped Utterson’s hand in both of his and gave a curt shake. “I’d be happy to see you each day if my time was my own,” he sighed. “Unfortunately, I can only stay for a few moments today. My morning required a few errands, and I made sure to include an extra stop –“ he paused as his right hand reached into his breast pocket, “- in order to ease both of our minds.” He revealed in his hand a single white dinner glove.

“So, you found it at last?” Utterson asked, the corners of his mouth beginning to twitch up as that glorious light in his eye gleamed again. Jekyll offered the glove, and Utterson took it in both hands, examining it. “Wherever did it go?”

“It was caught between the arm of the chair and the seat cushion.”

Utterson looked up at Jekyll, his brow furrowed. “I could have sworn I checked that chair a dozen times, you saw that I practically turned the thing upside down.”

Jekyll simply shrugged. “I’m just glad you have a matching set again. And that my furniture didn’t need to be ruined in the process.”

Utterson let out a long sigh. “I suppose I am grateful that it did turn up, although more so because the whole disappearance would have vexed me, rather than losing the glove itself.” His face returned to a calm, polite mask again. “So I thank you, Harry, for not only finding it, but for giving me a solution to a puzzle that would have scratched at the back of my mind all day.”

“I’m happy I could provide some relief, then.”

Jekyll caught himself sinking into the calm warmth of Utterson’s eyes. Utterson, however, kept flicking his eyes back down to the single glove in his hands.

“Although…something tells me you’re still unsatisfied.”

Utterson’s brow furrowed again. “I am grateful, Harry, truly! I just…how on earth did it vanish last night? I’m entirely at a loss!” Jekyll suppressed a laugh at Utterson’s quick unraveling. “You know where I left both gloves – “

“You mentioned that you neatly laid them over the arm of the chair,” Jekyll replied.

“I did! And you and I both know that no one else stepped foot in your drawing room between the time I took them off to the time I discovered that just one was missing. For it to fall into the cushion of the chair, fine, but for it to not turn up there when I was searching for it – “

“My dear Utterson, you have a hard time letting little mysteries go, don’t you?”

Utterson shut his eyes and shook his head, practically laughing at himself. “Perhaps I do. And perhaps it’s nothing at all – I just wish I could account for it, don’t you?”

“I completely understand. I’m sure I would be of the same mind if it was me.”

“I think so. Especially since you like to splurge on finer silk gloves than I do.” Utterson’s eyes twinkled again. “I am surprised that your scientific mind didn’t dive as deep into the search as I did last night.”

There was that heat rising to Jekyll’s face again. “I was a bit more distracted by your own urgency, so that I could only watch how your mind tried to work it out,” Jekyll said.                                                                                                                                                                            

Utterson sheepishly laughed. “Yes, yes, you were laughing at me the whole time.”

Jekyll squeezed Utterson’s shoulder fondly. “Not laughing at you, no. Just enjoying seeing something spark some excitement in you, my friend. I think I should find you more puzzles to stimulate that curious nature of yours.”

Utterson took Jekyll’s hand from his shoulder and pressed it between both of his own now. “As long as you don’t think I was behaving foolishly, I’m satisfied.”

“I would never think you a fool, Utterson,” Jekyll muttered, having to look away from the man across from him. He removed his hand and immediately smoothed his front, adjusting himself. “I should let you return to your business, I’m sorry I don’t have more time to chat today.”

Utterson blinked. “Oh, yes, I shouldn’t keep you. Thank you again for stopping in today and for returning this,” Utterson said, waving the glove before setting it aside. “Best of luck with your presentation on Wednesday.”

Jekyll nodded. “Thank you. In fact, I can tell you more about it this Thursday if you wouldn’t mind joining me at my home for dinner. I had the evening open up and – “ Jekyll abruptly lost his thought as he caught Utterson smiling – actually smiling! – in response.

“Yes, I would be happy to come, Harry.” Utterson replied eagerly. Between the warmth of his smile and that damn shine in his eyes again, Jekyll felt his heart lurch and his stomach knot up.

“Great!” Jekyll choked out, “I’ll be sure to notify Poole so that he can make arrangements. I’ll see you around 8?”

“I look forward to it, Doctor.” Utterson took Jekyll’s hand once more in a brief shake before Jekyll quickly retreated to the door, not trusting his tongue to say anything more.

As he stepped back out to the brisk London air, Henry Jekyll found himself in pure ecstasy. He began to whistle as he made his way down the street, promising to himself that he would make sure to deliver as many future dinner invitations to Utterson in person as possible.

He couldn’t help replaying the discussion in his mind. That smile, that glorious, glorious smile, affected him deeply. Any doubts Jekyll had of Utterson’s attachment to him were dashed by that beautiful face lighting up with joy at a mere dinner invitation. However, the realization struck him that Utterson’s regard might be challenged if his curious lawyer friend were to mull over the damn glove situation any deeper.

That joy vanished as Jekyll contemplated what Utterson would think of him if he guessed at the truth.

Yes, Utterson had been frustrated last night by the sudden disappearance of the glove. No one else had entered the room, and he and Jekyll were wholly alone the entire time. It was unclear to Henry Jekyll why Utterson’s mind hadn’t pinpointed that the sudden disappearance must have been Jekyll’s doing.

Because as soon as Utterson left his seat unmonitored, Jekyll had stashed the glove into his pocket.

It was impulsive, yes. Stupidly so.

After their dinner, Henry had invited Utterson to enjoy a bottle of red wine with him before the fire in his drawing room. An ordinary part of the many evenings they had spent the same way together. But this time, as Jekyll worked to uncork the bottle, he had watched as Utterson meticulously peeled his gloves off his hands and neatly draped them over the arm of his chair. Something about the way Utterson delicately moved, putting so much care into the position of his gloves, flooded Jekyll with fondness for his old friend. Always the perfect gentleman, Utterson instinctively appreciated little details. As he offered the glass of wine to Utterson, Jekyll felt his eyes continue to wander back to the gloves, perfectly placed.

A little time passed, Utterson rose to stand nearer the fire, and Jekyll took the opportunity to take the glove for his own.

Utterson hadn’t noticed anything for some time. He and Jekyll were able to sip at their wine and carry on their discussion. But once he returned to his seat, Utterson’s expression immediately fell as he noticed that one of the gloves was missing. He left the chair, checked underneath it, and then at last voiced his surprise and confusion.

While Jekyll tried to show sympathy, and suggested Utterson may have misremembered what he had done, he couldn’t help but be amused at Utterson’s uncharacteristic pout of frustration, and the animated way he paced the room and tried to account for the disappearance. The put-together Utterson caught off his guard was, admittedly, comical.

It was easy to feign ignorance in that moment, pretending he hadn’t even noticed Utterson had taken the gloves off, but while he watched the gears in Utterson’s head spin, Jekyll felt a twinge of anxiety that the man would see straight through him. And if Jekyll was forced to admit he took it, something he really had no reason for beyond a sudden whim, he would only look like he was playing a rather rude joke.

No, Utterson would have to drop the search altogether.

Ultimately, Jekyll urged Utterson to forget the whole thing, and was surprised by how much his voice raised. Utterson seemed taken aback, but solemnly apologized for his anxious behavior. Jekyll, too, apologized for his outburst and insisted that they move on to a new topic. He reached towards Utterson’s hand and even got to hold it for a moment while the lawyer sighed. The rest of the evening was relatively amicable, but Utterson didn’t stay for much longer.

The two men said their goodbyes, and Henry Jekyll watched his friend until the carriage taking him home was out of sight. It was then that Jekyll crept his way to his bedroom.

Slowly, the door was shut and bolted. Curtains were drawn. Jekyll had one lamp by the side of his bed lit as he sat down on the edge of the mattress, hands trembling slightly as he removed the prize from his pocket.

Jekyll held the glove in his lap, staring down upon it, lightly brushing his thumbs against the soft material. It wasn’t the same high quality silk that Jekyll would buy for himself, but he could see that Utterson took remarkable care of his possessions regardless. The stitching was immaculately done, there wasn’t a single speck of dirt visible, and Jekyll laid the glove over the palm of his own hand, noticing that it must have been an excellent fit on Utterson, but a tad too small for himself. He let the index finger of his free hand wander up and down the length of the glove, appreciating the respect that Utterson had for this simple little garment.

Then, Jekyll took the glove in both hands again and raised it to his nose, inhaling deeply.

It smelt like Utterson. Of course it did.

He could smell old books and gin and traces of the cologne that Utterson wore – the exact same scent that Jekyll had bought him as a gift decades earlier.

Henry released a shaky sigh. Wonderful, reliable Utterson. Still loyally wearing the same fragrance.

He breathed in the aroma as he dragged the glove across his cheek, basking in the softness of the material and imagining Gabriel’s hand caressing his face in the same way. What he’d give for that affection, true, physical, tangible affection –

Henry felt his heart racing up towards his throat as he brought the glove before his eyes again. Here, it seemed so small. There was no possible way Utterson’s hand was this small, was it?

The glove was brought to his lips as Jekyll softly kissed the palm. He kissed each fingertip in turn, pinky to thumb, before returning and kissing them again in the opposite order.

How many years had he spent wanting to do this to the humble old lawyer?

How often had he restrained himself when the urge to kiss his beloved tugged at him?

He imagined Utterson before him, rosy faced as Jekyll held one of his hands in both of his own and planted kisses along the fingertips. The tip of the glove’s middle finger found its way between Jekyll’s teeth as he pictured himself dragging the glove off Utterson’s hand, and getting to feel the warm, bare, flesh brush against his lips. How wonderful it would be to kiss those hands, those cheeks, feel those graceful fingers in his mouth, letting Utterson’s hands caress his face while his own hands worked their way to Utterson’s hips.

He'd be on his knees soon enough, tearing through buttons to reveal Utterson’s glorious manhood, swollen with a shared desire. He’d let his mouth get to quick work, impatient to make the stoic Utterson whine and pant like a whore.

When Jekyll finished his task, he would strip down himself, begging Utterson to make a whore out of him in return - right there on the floor.

These were common fantasies for him. In actuality, Jekyll was laying atop his bed, trousers discarded, with one hand working furiously while the other clutched the Utterson-scented glove over his mouth and nose, muffled moans escaping him while his back arched.

Release came, and with it, his face grew hot with shame.

Pathetic.

He had let his grossest, most wicked impulses overcome him again. He had indulged that grotesque voice in his head that he could never seem to shake, and for what? A mess to clean up, a sickening amount of guilt, and one solitary glove that didn’t fucking belong to him.

He discarded the glove and cleaned himself before extinguishing the light and putting himself to bed.

When morning came at last and Jekyll peeled himself from his pillow, the first thing he noticed was the slightly crumpled glove next to his face. He brought the glove to his nose and sniffed it but couldn’t smell any of Utterson’s cologne anymore.

It was time to return this to its rightful owner.

He took extra care to make himself presentable that morning. Jekyll scrubbed at his face and hands, hoping that a visit to Utterson wouldn’t reveal his sins of the night before.

What would Utterson make of him, if he knew the sick and twisted way that Jekyll thought of him?

But the visit had gone fine.

Utterson was happy to see him. Happy to accept an invitation for dinner later this week.

Happy to ignore any possibility of Henry Jekyll being corrupt, dishonest, filthy.

As Jekyll reached home and the inside of his lab after returning from Gaunt Street, he prayed that he wouldn’t be tempted to misbehave at their next evening together.