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If Lanyon had been told a year ago that he would be dating Edward Hyde, he wouldn’t have believed it. To be fair, he was under the impression that Hyde was a blackmailing criminal that planned to kill his best friend.
Not his fault that he turned out to be his best friend.
So, approaching the situation with a fresh impression of Hyde, he had got to know him a bit more. Or maybe, simply got to realize he had known him all along.
Sure, Hyde was loud, brash, and reckless, but he was also passionate, decisive, and honest to god fun. He was unphased by Lanyon’s sass. He joined in on Lanyon poking fun at high society, rather than worrying about his reputation. And he was outwardly, unrepentantly honest.
He was rather a lot of things he had liked about Jekyll, actually.
The fact that he was Jekyll was still something Lanyon was getting used to. Yes, he had seen the transformation time and time again, but...
But Hyde looked so different.
He had fallen in love with eyes red like autumn leaves, not electric green ones that he swears glow in the London moonlight. He remembers running his hands through short-cut hair, not the longer blonde locks his fingers graze upon now. He keeps expecting to meet his partner’s gaze near his own, only to realize and tilt his head downward.
It is this vast difference in appearance that must have shoved him away from uncovering the truth for so long. Lanyon curses himself for not seeing it sooner.
Because for the past couple years, Jekyll had been different. He was almost... supernaturally perfect. And Lanyon wasn’t just saying that because he was his boyfriend, now. No, it was more like no matter how much you squinted and cocked your head you couldn’t detect any selfishness, any reckless decision-making, anything normal and human.
But Lanyon had also seen the opposite in Hyde, for the brief time he had known him before he learned of his identity. Suddenly, putting the two together made perfect sense. They were both extremes of the same self. If Lanyon looks at both of them together, suddenly they form the picture of the man he fell in love with back in college.
The very man Lanyon has come to visit, who still instills within him those fluttery feelings from their youth.
As Lanyon enters the head office of the Society, previously occupied by Jekyll and soon to be properly occupied by Jasper, he finds Henry inside, sorting through random paperwork and office supplies, trying to prepare the space for Jasper.
That’s what Lanyon is here to help with. Now that Jasper is taking over, he and Jekyll will be taking a more casual role in working for the society. Finally Jekyll will be taking a goddamned break.
Jekyll doesn’t notice Lanyon enter, too engrossed in squinting at some smudged documents. He startles as Lanyon taps him on the shoulder to get his attention, and Lanyon laughs at him.
Jekyll shakes off the mild embarrassment, his cheeks dusting imperceptibly pink. “Hey,” he greets, “I’ve made a bit of a dent already. You can sort anything from there–” he gestures to a pile of random boxes stacked haphazardly, “and put it in one of these piles. This one’s for important documents, this other one for basic records, and that last one’s just junk.”
Lanyon’s eyes drift over the messy state of the room as he takes in the information. “Hmm. How long have you been here? I’m not late, am I?”
Jekyll looks sheepish. “No, I came early. I wanted to make sure I made a good start.”
Lanyon claps a hand on Jekyll’s shoulder. “Henry, what did I tell you?” Those piles indicate he’s been working a lot more than just arriving a bit early.
“I’m not intentionally overdoing it! I just... want to make sure Jasper has a smooth transition.”
Lanyon just sighs and makes his way over to the stack of boxes.
They work for a solid hour or so, going through paperwork so old Lanyon doesn’t even remember signing it.
It’s around this point that they start to get distracted.
Surprisingly, it’s Jekyll who initiates. He climbs over the piles he has been sorting through and sits next to Lanyon, leaning his head on his shoulder.
“Tired?” Lanyon asks, gentle.
“I’m probably overdue for a break,” Jekyll admits. Lanyon sets down the papers he was looking at and runs his hand through Jekyll’s hair, who leans into his touch. Lanyon used to do this back when they were in university, alone in their dorms. He smiles at the familiarity.
“Robert?” Jekyll prompts. Lanyon hums. “I’m so... glad, that I’m here, with you.”
Lanyon looks down at him. Jekyll gazes into those eyes, so full of love and warmth, and moves in, meeting Lanyon’s lips. They embrace each other for only a few moments before Jekyll spasms in Lanyon’s arms.
Lanyon tightens his hold on him. “Henry? Are you okay?” Lanyon asks, concerned.
Jekyll doesn’t respond, but his eyes widen in alarm. A moment later he coughs up emerald green sludge, and Lanyon witnesses the indescribable horror that is one of his boyfriends transforming into the other.
Jekyll screams as his bones shift – as frequent as his transformations have got, the pain has not exactly dulled – but as Hyde emerges, it shifts into a maniacal laugh.
“Heyyyyyyy gorgeous,” Hyde greets, eyes half-lidded. “Lucky me, now I get to do all the kissing.”
Lanyon rolls his eyes but surges forth into Hyde nonetheless.
He’s actually relieved to have tempted Hyde out, because that means Jekyll won’t spend too much time working today. And hey, maybe Lanyon kinda preferred ditching their boring work and doing something more interesting, anyway.
Lanyon wakes up slowly. He’s in the privacy of his bedroom, holding the warm body of his partner, the two of them wrapped in comfy sheets. The sky outside is grey and cloudy, and the misty morning just further encourages him to snuggle up against the body heat next to him.
Then that body shifts and stretches, and Lanyon feels a scruffy head of hair brush up against his face. He blearily opens his eyes, greeted with a mess of blonde instead of the chestnut he was expecting.
“Ngh, Edward?” He asks, still half asleep.
Hyde blinks at him, not fully aware himself. “Huh?” He says dumbly. Lanyon frowns. He’s not sure if he’s still getting used to the light, but he can’t really tell what color Hyde’s eyes are. They don’t seem to be their usual green, but they’re not really red either.
But then Hyde pulls his hair into his vision and his eyes blink back into their supernaturally bright green. “Oh, this hasn’t happened in a while, has it?”
Lanyon makes a probing hum. “A while?”
“Oh yeah,” says Hyde, “I forgot, we kinda ran out of the room last time. This happened the first time we slept together.” He smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at that sentence, then continues. “Well, the first time since I, ” he gestures to himself, dressed in pajamas a size too big on him, with a flourish, “slept with you. ‘Cept you didn’t know it yet.”
It takes Lanyon’s sluggish morning brain a second to process, and he frowns as he does. He supposes that makes sense, considering their shapeshifting was all over the place that day.
Hyde pecks him on the cheek, startling him out of his thoughts. “Anyway,” he says, getting up from the bed. “What a perfect gloomy day to have some fun! What d’ya say, we go out somewhere? Romp about in the mist? Visit the park so I can push you into the pond?”
Lanyon ignores that suggestion. “Going out? Like that?” Lanyon gestures to the, erm, all of Hyde.
“What?” He scrunches his face in confusion, looking at his pajamas. “Obviously I’ll get some more appropriate attire first, duh.”
Lanyon stands up and gives him a skeptical look. “It’s morning. It’s broad daylight. You’re supposed to be dead.”
Hyde groans. “Ugh, right. I forgot.” He clicks his tongue, then looks around the room in thought. “Well, you and Jekyll are probably just going to do boring stuff at the Society today, anyway,” He leans against Lanyon dramatically, causing him to stumble back against Hyde’s sudden weight, “I guess I’ll change. Change-change. Y’know.”
Lanyon just rolls his eyes at Hyde’s antics and looks down at the shorter figure, who’s looking at him with a catlike smirk and big green doe eyes. Lanyon smiles at that and Hyde’s face starts to go red.
He coughs. “Anyway~! Okay, changing now!” And he pushes off Lanyon’s chest with little regard for Lanyon, who, used to Hyde, had already steeled himself against being knocked over. Hyde shuts his eyes and curls his fists, breathing in deep, something Lanyon has seen him do a few times before.
Lanyon watches, knowing he’ll cringe away when the gruesome transformation starts. Though... it’s rather taking a bit to kick off. Hyde rocks on the heels of his feet, then lets one eye peek open, glancing at Lanyon.
Lanyon blinks at him and tilts his head in mild confusion. “Er, are you good?”
Hyde’s face has gone scarlet again. “I’m fine! I’m great! I don’t know why it’s not working!”
Lanyon’s confusion strengthens. “You can’t transform back? At all?”
Hyde’s countenance grows annoyed, and Lanyon can’t help the jolt of upset that rocks his chest, like he’s looking at a wild animal ready to bite. Apparently this happens a lot – a side effect of Hyde’s nature – so he ignores it.
“No,” he spits out. “My heartbeat won’t stop going crazy! Close your stupid pretty brown eyes!”
Lanyon’s brain takes a second to catch what’s going on under Hyde’s annoyed front, but when it clicks he just laughs. “Alright, if that’s what it takes, mister.”
“No laughter either!” Hyde growls, stomping his foot childishly. That just spurs Lanyon on further, feeling a warm glow in his chest. Not that he wants Hyde to have trouble transforming but... it makes him feel proud, almost, that his partner is struggling because Lanyon is the one distracting him.
“Hey! If I can’t transform, then you’ll have to entertain me. I’m not staying cooped up in here all alone.”
“Well, maybe just try to think of what makes you Jekyll?” He suggests, not really sure what would help.
Hyde looks at him curiously. “What do you think makes me Jekyll?”
Lanyon sputters, a bit put on the spot. “Well, uh...” he thinks about it. “Reliability. Courtesy. Earnesty, but not honesty. Structure.”
That makes Hyde’s face flush again, but he also seems to calm down, that frantic energy that’s always present in this form receding. He takes in air, then lets it out slowly, measuredly.
Then Lanyon hears the cracking of bones and he turns away. It’s merely a moment before Jekyll stands before him, smiling sheepishly. “Well, it seems I better get ready for the day then.”
It’s nighttime, and very late. The kind of late that means no polite visitors should come knocking for quite a while. And yet, as Lanyon sits in his bedroom, dressed in his evening gown, he hears a knocking.
…At his window.
Before he can stumble out of his stunned silence, the window slides open and a figure hops into the room.
“Hyde?!” Lanyon exclaims. There are a lot of things Lanyon has come to expect from Henry’s shadow, but breaking into Lanyon’s house was new.
“Hey darling,” says Hyde, in his best romantic drawl, “I was just out on the rooftops, when suddenly I had the brilliant realization that I’d rather be here, warming myself up next to you. Maybe getting a little exercise, if you know what I mean.” His grin splits his face open into an uncanny leer.
Ugh, it’s too late for this. Lanyon pushes Hyde away from him. “Sorry, I’m tired. Another time.”
“Aww,” Hyde says, grinning despite Lanyon’s gentle shove, “too tired for a little late-night sin? I’ll quickly change your mind.” He grabs Lanyon’s hand and pulls them both onto the bed.
Lanyon has no choice but to follow his harsh tug. “Hey, I said no!”
Hyde’s eyes are glowing. “Come onnnnn,” he whines, playfully grasping Lanyon’s wrists.
Lanyon struggles under Hyde’s arms pinning him to the sheets. “Edward, I’m not in the mood,” he declares, getting rather cross. “I’m sorry, but you need to– to leave.”
Hyde’s cheshire grin falters, and all at once he pulls back, face souring. “Oh. Ah, I’m–” is all he gets out before he curls in on himself and Lanyon recognizes the familiar signs of an oncoming transformation.
“Sorry, Lanyon,” Jekyll apologizes when he comes to, wiping emerald chemical from his eyes. His face is bright red. “I, uh, I’ll leave you be.”
He stumbles to the window, and exits with far less grace than the way Hyde came in, stuttering and apologizing the whole time. Lanyon watches him leave blearily, but quickly lies down and retires to bed.
He’ll deal with that in the morning.
The next day, Lanyon finds himself at the society at a very early hour. Early enough that breakfast is still being served in the common area.
He’s not looking forward to a long, boring session of teaching Jasper the basics of the society’s finances, but here he is.
As he approaches the kitchen, he can hear distant conversation.
“I’m not making you cookies for breakfast.” That’s Rachel.
“Pleaaaase? Jekyll never eats anything. I’m starving!” and Hyde...
“So have literally any of this perfectly fine healthy breakfast food!”
“But I want cookies!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be showing me finances today? You’ll need more than just sugar.” Oh, seems Jasper is here too. Lanyon walks through the entrance, largely unnoticed by the arguing party.
“Yeah, you two lovebirds would gang up on me,” Hyde snarks, crossing his arms.
Jasper blushes a little. Rachel sputters for a minute, then gets her composure back. “Why’re you even out so early, oh spirit of London at night? ”
“I’ll have you know that I’m just out very late!!!” Hyde refutes, raising his arms, before his face goes sour. “Okay, not really, whatever, Jekyll just ended up cutting my outing short last night. For sleep of all things.”
Lanyon finally steps into the conversation. “If I recall correctly, the last time you didn’t get any sleep you started vividly hallucinating nightmare creatures?”
Despite the sass, Hyde’s face lights up when he notices Lanyon. “Oi! I was besties with the nightmare creatures. That was only a problem for Jekyll.” He waves his hand dismissively, then kicks his legs up on the table, which are shoved off by Rachel almost immediately, unbalancing Hyde.
“Right. And Jekyll’s mental state has no connection to yours whatsoever.” Lanyon frowns.
Hyde notices Lanyon’s face and his own complexion gets a bit flushed as he squirms in his seat, clearly uncomfortable.
“Er, look, about last night–”
Lanyon quirks an eyebrow up at Hyde. He isn’t really bothered, but he isn’t above a little pettiness.
“Well. Uh. You know.” Always dancing around the issue, this one.
“Do I now?” Lanyon asks with a smirk.
“Ugh, do I have to say it?”
“You must,” Lanyon says with false innocence, “for I have no idea what you plan to say, darling.”
“Fine! I’m very, very sor–” he coughs once. “S-sorry,” another cough, frustrating him. “I mean it! I swear! I just, augh–!”
His sentence remains incomplete as he slams his hand on the table, bending over and hacking up potion sludge all over the chairs. He growls and snarls as the transformation takes him, clearly biting down pained shouting.
Rachel frowns at the goop that’s getting everywhere. Jasper’s watching the transformation with interest, or perhaps with sympathy.
Lanyon frowns. Wow, he has really seen his friend transform rather frequently lately. That isn’t… that hopefully isn’t a bad thing, right?
“I’m sorry Lanyon,” Jekyll rasps gently after clearing his vocal chords, and Lanyon snaps out of it.
He hums. “It’s not as fun if Hyde isn’t the one saying it, but I accept your apology.” Lanyon punctuates his words with a kiss on Jekyll’s cheek.
They’re interrupted by a wolf whistle. “Okay, lovebirds!” Rachel calls out.
Jekyll smiles sheepishly, flushing a little. “Uh, I’d also like to apologize for begging you for cookies.”
Rachel laughs. “Don’t worry, Dr. Jay. I’ll have some if you stop by later, at a more reasonable time to consume sweets,” she says with a wink.
“Huh. If Hyde’s the spirit of London at night, does that make you the spirit of London at day–?” Jasper speaks up after what appears to have been a solid consideration of the concept.
“Please, I don’t need any more silly titles.”
“Oh but you’re always the one out at day! It makes perfect sense,” Rachel joins the bandwagon.
Jekyll ignores that and instead gets up from his seat, focusing on Jasper. “So, finances?”
“Ah, hang on, did you actually end up eating anything or did you just beg for cookies the whole time?” Lanyon probes.
“He absolutely hasn’t had breakfast yet,” Jasper exposes.
Jekyll scowls. “I’m ready enough, we really shouldn’t delay.”
“Hyde literally said he was starving,” Jasper points out.
Lanyon grabs Jekyll by the wrist and pulls him back to sit at their table. “Here, let’s have a meal together first, hmm?”
A long day of finances has passed at last.
Jasper has significantly less training in the area than Lanyon and Jekyll do, both having studied the topic at college, but he’s a quick learner. The only issue is that financial affairs are rather dull, and unlike animals or people, lack the personality that Jasper seems to pick up on so well.
So, they plan to be back on it tomorrow. Sigh.
Jasper’s gone to give his menagerie their evening feeding, so Lanyon and Jekyll are in the office alone. Lanyon’s already draped himself over the fainting couch, melodramatically positioning an arm over his forehead.
Jekyll’s shuffling some papers together at the other end of the room, tidying up. Lanyon peeks an eye open and idly watches him. As he watches Jekyll’s careful movements, his mind starts to wander, thinking about this morning’s transformation.
Every time he sees his friend transform, it makes him wince in sympathy pain. Jekyll always assures him that the transformation isn’t that bad, that he’s used to it, but Lanyon knows better. He knows just how good Jekyll is at hiding his agony, and if he still screams when it occurs, it can’t possibly be mild.
Lanyon wishes he didn’t have to transform at all. But apparently he has little control over it, seeing as how frequently Lanyon has witnessed it. Actually... Lanyon has been present specifically for quite a few of them. Is he somehow the catalyst?
“Henry… do you know why you transform involuntarily?” Lanyon almost surprises himself by speaking aloud.
Jekyll looks over to him, also a bit startled by the breach in quiet. Having had more time to devote to his research in recent weeks, and having chosen to expand upon his experiment now that his secret was out, Jekyll quickly smiles at the question. “Ah, I suspect it’s to do with our environment. Hyde has always been the one to deal with our passions, just as I have been the one to deal with our restraints. Therefore, if either of us find ourselves in a situation we don’t usually handle, our emotions will trigger a change. We tend to naturally shift back to me when tired, for example.
“This… didn’t really happen until recently, though. I mean, I used to change rather deliberately. But since the transformations have grown involuntary, I’ve noticed they tend to align with my emotions.” Jekyll frowns, thinking.
Lanyon considers this information. Then he moves onto his next inquiry: “So… when you say Hyde deals with your passions… is that why I’ve been kissing him more than you?”
Jekyll flushes. “Oh dear, that has happened rather a lot lately, hasn’t it?”
“Not that I mind,” Lanyon says, “but I kinda wanna be able to kiss you too, y’know.”
Jekyll hums. “I’m having plenty fun as Hyde.”
“Well... I miss your face. Does Hyde have to do it all?” He considers a moment. “It’s not impossible for you to do that, right?”
“Of course not!” Jekyll declares. “I just must have had rather poor control over my emotions, lately. It won’t happen next time.”
Lanyon comes to sit next to Jekyll. He presses a chaste kiss to Jekyll’s cheek. “Good. Because I wanna do this…” Lanyon says as he caresses Jekyll’s face with his hand. His thumb runs over his lips, parted slightly. He can see Jekyll’s eyes dilate and– flash green?
Lanyon frowns. “You’re doing it again.”
Jekyll shakes his head, resetting. “Oh,” he breathes. “I didn’t even realize…”
He takes a moment to mutter to himself. Lanyon doesn’t like the angry look that crosses his face as he reprimands Hyde. “Well, he’s complaining now,” Jekyll says.
“He’s had his turn,” Lanyon replies.
Jekyll nods once. Lanyon hesitates a second, checking where Jekyll stands before moving in to meet his lips. They linger for just a moment, and then Jekyll stumbles back, clutching his nose which begins to bleed with the formula. “Ugh. I think I made it worse. Hyde just wants out more now.”
Lanyon just kisses him again. The formula tastes like salt when it reaches his tongue, a bit like tears. He pulls back when he tastes more of it on his upper lip. It’s leaking from Jekyll’s eyes now, too.
“Uhh… can you resist the transformation like that?”
“Not– really,” Jekyll says haltingly, wincing in pain. Almost in spite, he surges forth again, pulling Lanyon close, running his hand up his back.
But it’s only moments before he cries out, and fully loses control over his body. Lanyon holds him close as he shifts. He can feel his muscles liquidate and reform, his bones diminish, his hair pull against his scalp and brush up against Lanyon’s neck.
It’s disturbing. It sets Lanyon’s heart aflutter with worry that his friend won’t be okay, despite knowing the transformations, while painful, are now an intrinsic part of his existence.
When Hyde pulls back out of his embrace, Lanyon chooses to ignore his revulsion at his shapeshifting and instead chastises him. “You were supposed to be giving Jekyll a turn.”
“Who cares! Why do you need to kiss his pretty face anyway? Ain’t I enough for you?”
“You’re plenty. A handful even. But I want to kiss all of my boyfriend.” Lanyon boops Hyde’s nose.
Hyde sticks his tongue out. It’s glowing green, still coated in formula.
Lanyon hums. “Let me kiss both of you– all of you. I don’t just want your passion. I want your reluctance, too.”
Hyde averts his eyes, but as Lanyon’s hand caresses his cheek, his wide-eyed gaze meets his.
He kisses him, then whispers against his face, “You’re my good friend Henry, and you’re my doe-eyed sweetheart. Let me love all of that.”
This time when he kisses Hyde he can taste the formula again. When he pulls away, he’s met with Jekyll’s visage– mostly. His hair is just the slightest bit lighter, just the smallest bit messier. When Jekyll opens his eyes, they’re equally green and red.
“Oh, fascinating,” he breathes. “I haven’t felt like this in... a while.” He grins widely at Lanyon, then hops off the couch. “I have to write this down!”
“Wh– hey!” Lanyon sputters, startled at the change in attitude.
Jekyll focuses back on Lanyon. “Hmm, well maybe I can take notes on the bed... with you behind me... maybe petting my hair?” His face is bright red as he suggests it, but he doesn’t stutter.
Lanyon just laughs and complies.
Henry’s strange merged state doesn’t last forever, but it’s a point of intrigue for the rest of the night, as they relax and cuddle after a long day of work. How compelling, that Lanyon seems to bring out cooperation in the two clashing halves of his partner.