Work Text:
Hercules Mulligan was a man of many things, but most people would think of him as only have the capability for happiness or a slight anger from almost any time they saw him. For such a big person, he certainly carried such an elation with him. But right then and there, as he chatted with his friends online, his heart hurt and he certainly didn’t feel like he had any happiness other than what he could fake. He had been chatting with James and Thomas(on a night where he’d been a good guy, probably from a high of having sex with James) and for some reason, he just couldn’t help but feel jealous of them and what they had. They were some of his best friends(well, at least James) and they just happened to be absolutely perfect together with nothing less than 100% on both sides.
He regretted feeling jealous after a minute, Jefferson’s talent with words and many chances were nothing to be jealous of when he knew for a fact that Jefferson drank at least twice a week to make up for his loneliness. He had anxiety and depression episodes just about as often, if not more; Herc shouldn’t have been jealous at all. But here he was, fake laughing at another of Jefferson’s jokes while his heart panged with longing. James may have had the luck of being so amazing and even being in such a good relationship but he still struggled with making the fact that he was a him known and just his life overall. He was envious of the two and it made him feel sick to his stomach. It clawed at him, made him feel sick that he could be jealous of two good people that deserved his kind of situation and life.
The worst part was that he had talked Jefferson out of feeling guilty of being too possessive of Jemmy that week because of his jealously, convinced him that jealousy was a natural thing and when you loved someone, it was natural. He’d given a similar talk to Eliza, who had gotten worried when Maria hadn’t replied in a few hours. But somehow, he couldn’t say that to himself, the envy felt misplaced to him and it felt anything but natural. He couldn’t make it disappear, it stuck with him just as much as the guilt he had for it. He couldn’t make it go away, but he couldn’t just go out and say it to anyone. What was he supposed to say? “Oh, hey, I’m really jealous of the fact you guys are so perfect even though I know you aren’t, not to bother or guilt you or anything like that."
No, he couldn’t. He kept silent and faked his usual attitude, somewhat of a happy, joking mixture that ended up in him feeling like a mess. He made it die down, at least, to the point where he could go for a few hours without it bothering him. Just long enough to get through any moments and then, in the night, it’d bother him again. He wanted to just tell someone, anyone how he felt. But, he just couldn’t, he didn’t want to bother anyone with it but it was too much to leave alone. The guilt ate away at him and he needed to get it out in the open, he needed to express himself. But, there was no easy way to just get it out there without potentially ruining everything. So instead, he put pen to paper, like Alexander often did, and wrote it out. Oh, how much it helped for the moment, to admit it. He was jealous, and while it wasn’t necessarily ok, it was done and out there. Under a pseudonym, of course, he posted it and left it for whoever wanted to read it. His little piece of sin.