moritat | there is always another au

"Only could?" He bends down, clearly expecting something!!

When he leads her to the back door, it leads into a vast kitchen space, room enough for at least a dozen servants to bustle around without bumping into one another. It's been modernised, but otherwise clearly the basis for period films. The hall it leads them into branches off into servants quarters and up a flight of stairs and through a set of double doors is finally the house as she knows it, placing them by the front foyer. There in the entrance stands Jekyll still in a lab coat, setting his filecase on a side table.

Paloma hides halfway behind Hyde by way of slowing her pace, hovering without fully committing to cringing. She stares bug-eyed at Jekyll, his case, and then her feet.

“Everyone’s here,” she says in a too-high pitch. His shower is upstairs. There’s cold semen soaked into the lace of her brand new panties. Can she tug the collar higher? She does.

"Oh- perfect timing!" There's that pretty smile. He has a keycard to take off and set with his case before stepping toward her for a small kiss on the cheek.

"She's making me shower, guessing she probably wants one too since I stunk up the place, right?" At least Hyde tries to give her an out for showering!

Jekyll shocks her with the chasteness of his kiss, after all she and Hyde did just a short while ago. Her responsive smile is helpless, unmanageable.

She’d forgotten the lipstick smeared everywhere over his lips and chin until his handy excuse makes her glance. Inhaling sharply, Paloma chokes.

“Yes! I-I would appreciate a quick one! Quick shower!”

To be fair, Hyde didn't even realise it was there. Jekyll clearly sees it, but politely turns his eyes away and pretends not to. "Of course, you can use my room, shall I take you?" Gentleman as ever he offers his arm.

Her face is in flames, nothing new there. Somehow it’s worse when Jekyll sees but declines to comment. The elephant in the room roots louder.

Surely he recognizes his own sweater hugging her frame when she links elbows with him, and presses to his side meaningfully. Hyde’s not meant to be ignored, just...

“Please. Oh, Edward asked about cake...?

"I wanted it for her, she should try it." Hyde tries to be nonchalant, of course.

"Mm, I asked for it, Poole said he would. It was our favourite when we were boys." He grins, hoping Paloma will see that Hyde's apparently being cute and soft but unwilling to admit it without saying so out loud to make him agitated.

“Aha...the truth comes out.” Paloma uses Jekyll’s shoulder to peer over and behind them at his very nonchalant brother, grinning. “I’m your excuse?”

If the fucking hadn’t already put a swing into her hips, the play certainly would. Her hand travels across his upper back— familiarly so as to compensate for being such a slut for his brother.

"That's not it! You make your specialty if your girlfriend comes for dinner right? But we don't cook, so..." So the best they can do is get servants to make their favourites. A pouty voice, next to Jekyll's shy blush.

We don’t cook, he says without an ounce of self-awareness. Forgive her the snort escaping Paloma in an unladylike moment of disapproval.

Girlfriend, though. She flushes too, hiding her face in Jekyll’s sleeve. “I never heard about that rule. Did you just make it up?”

"I'm not fucking saying it's a rule and I didn't just make it up, christ!" He doesn't much appreciate the scoffing either. "Thanks a lot, asswipe, really fucking great. You got anything else to make me look like a stupid cunt?" Hyde pushes past, ramming right into Jekyll's shoulder with his. It's not enough to get his aggression out though, so he turns around to push him backward too.

A light teasing flipped into outright rage faster than she can keep up with, frightening Paloma off of Jekyll’s arm and two feet further away before she stops herself.

Stunned but unwilling to let either of them be hurt, she skitters between the two as a human shield. “Edward! I tried to make a joke, he didn’t do anything! Why are you-!?”

"Because he pisses me off!" He flares red but because Paloma's there, averts his eyes. The real reason is only selfconsciousness, and her looking at him is worse.

"It's fine, don't worry." Jekyll steps to her side and gently takes her hand, offering a small smile. "Sorry, Edward, I didn't mean it that way..."

Of course that only manages to piss him off more, as if Jekyll's just trying to look good in front of Paloma. "Oh fuck off." He storms off upstairs, at least able to literally cool off in the shower.

She still can’t understand the real reason behind his behavior, and his aversion to eye contact further complicates the puzzle. Her hand lies limply in Henry’s.

Somehow it’s much, much worse to have the lingering physical effects of Hyde’s affection and watch him hare off to the staircase. So soon.

“I made a bad joke,” she says, tiny-voiced and chest tight. “Forgot where he’s coming from.”

"It's okay, he's...a bit unstable, emotionally." He squeezes her hand, wrapping his free arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. "I'm sure he has some something that could be treated, but he just won't see anyone about it. It isnt your fault." A weak smile comes to him with a defeated shrug. Sorry they're messed up.

She can’t hold a secret illness against Hyde. How could she ever, remembering as if it was yesterday what it is to be terrified of walking into traffic in the next bad moment? The bad moments that come by again every so often?

Jekyll is soft, clean, and smells wonderful. Her cheek rests nicely on him. “I don’t like setting him off so that he hurts you. We... can we both go after him to apologize?”

"I deal with that volatility every day, it's nothing new, and he won't truly hurt me." She might have a slight essence of Hyde's smoking on her, a little sweat, but he certainly doesn't see a need for a shower right away! Still, if she wants it. "Why don't you have your shower and we'll give him a chance to cool off before dealing with us both at once?"

Smoke. Sweat.

Sex?

Paloma nods morosely and rumples his buttoned-up shirt. “You tend to make sense,” she concedes. In a tone just as tentative and meek: “Join me? Save time, and...”

"I suppose it would be good to freshen up..." He doesnt really need a shower, and he's still very shy, but...maybe. If she wants him to. "Anything to be with you a little longer." Really that's what it comes down to, if he can see her a little more before she has to go.

Small movement against him indicates Paloma’s surprise. A soft pressure over his chest is a dry kiss, her twisting heart tied up in it.

“I love everything about the sound of that, Henry.” Let him lead the way. If there’s a chance for a downstairs shower they can dodge possible confrontation.

No, no, downstairs is for the servants, upstairs is rhe family. He laces his fingers with hers to lead her up the stairs. Less proper than giving her his arm, but probably more intimate. The patter of the shower running greets them as they climb the stairs, so at least Hyde's occupied for the time being.

He takes her into his bedroom and hangs his lab coat and tie up right away, the rest can wait. "How was it, was he good?" The show, and Hyde's behaviour, that is.

She hopes the time alone and stream of hot water help Hyde see things as they are again. He probably won’t apologize, but...

Paloma coughs. Her hand flies to her throat, covered in sweater, dried sweat and angry hickeys. What!!

“Good!” This is Jekyll talking. Sweet, gentlemanly Henry Jekyll wouldn’t ask how the sex was. “Yeah? Oh yeah! The genre is growing on me. I wasn’t so sure...” Bending to escape her heels offers a convenient preoccupation.

He laughs a little, nodding. "I try to go to support them as much as I can, but it really isn't my thing... I suppose I can agree with the meaning, more or less, but the sound and atmosphere is, ah, overpowering." He likes orchestral music, not rock.

He still feels like he should turn away to undress, even though...well.

Her too, nonsensical as it is to fuss over nudity now.

Maybe not so silly. Hickeys, light bruising, proof of someone’s complete attention and the mess of her once-pristine panties betray her; Paloma breathes a little faster, a little like a wheeze. Her cheeks enflame, but she half-turns regardless. “I think he’d laugh if he knew the kind of music I’m into— Gaelic ballads to pop.”

God, smite her, her body is a map of sin.

It's okay it's fine, he's making sure he doesn't look, his back is turned to run the shower and let the water heat up before they get in! Which also lets him go longer without taking off any more than his suit jacket and shirt. Pants? He can shower with pants....

"You're not as bad as me, at least. I prefer string orchestras..." A real lord.

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