Title: My Dear Larry
Author:
rubyofkukunduWords/Time: 871 words, 56 minutes (let's not count the editing time hahaha >_>)
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:
Unsent LetterSummary: Peter's writing a letter, but Larry scuppers his plans by arriving before Peter has a chance to send it
Notes: Took me longer than I intended, but I've been meaning to write this one for weeks. So here you go.
Larry bursts through the door to Peter's study to find Peter hastily scrambling to hide a sheet of paper beneath a stack of books.
"Good God, Larry!" Peter's face is pale. "I thought you were still in Singapore!"
Larry winks at him. "They let me go a month early. My ship arrived last night."
"Last night?" Peter's shock is more than a little amusing. "But you... you didn't tell me you were leaving early!"
Larry gives a mock pout. "I thought it might be a nice surprise. But if you're not happy to see me, then maybe I should go..."
Peter finally rises from his desk. "You ass," he says with a smile, "of course I'm happy to see you," and they both laugh as Peter catches Larry up in a hug.
"So," says Larry when they break apart. He eyes Peter's desk, "what is it that you're trying to hide from me?"
Peter flushes and then pales, all in the space of a second. He opens his mouth and no words come out.
"Is it really that bad?" asks Larry with a grin.
"I... That..." Peter stares at his desk. He swallows. "That is to say... It's a letter. For you. I was writing a letter to you, Larry." He frowns. "I thought you were still in Singapore."
Larry can't help but smile at Peter's hesitation. He really is adorable sometimes. "Come on now, Peter. Aren't you going to show it to me? It is for me after all."
Peter gives Larry a look that makes Larry's heart beat faster in his chest.
"Seeing as you're here now," says Peter, attempting to smile, but failing, "there's no point. I suppose I should just up and tell you."
There's a pause, but Peter doesn't say anything else, he just stands there, fiddling with his cuffs. After a while, Larry raises his eyebrows.
Peter looks at him. "I think it would be best if you sat down, Larry."
Larry does as he's told, and sits down in the winged chair by the fireplace. Peter takes the chair opposite, and after a moment's deliberation, he moves it forward until they're close enough that Larry can see the uncertainty in Peter's eyes.
Peter stares at the floor. He runs a hand over his mouth. "I..." he says, then closes his eyes and sighs.
Larry's heart is racing. He doesn't know what it is that's causing Peter so much difficulty, but when Peter's cheeks flush, Larry feels his own cheeks flush in response.
Finally, when Peter's eyes open, he meets Larry's gaze.
"Larry, I... I hope that you don't mind me saying this, but I thought that it's only fair for you to know. And... and I know that you're a good sort, so I hope you won't take it too badly if I were to... to..."
Peter's hand clenches on the armrest, fingers trembling. Larry swallows, mouth suddenly dry.
"Look," says Peter, "I've known you for so long... and all that time, I've felt that we... that you..." Peter sighs again. "Larry, you know... I..." He flushes even harder. "I... I think I'm in love with you, Larry."
Larry laughs; he can't help it. Then he stands up on shaking legs and drags Peter out of his chair and into a hug.
"You fool," says Larry, voice wavering. "All these years and you only tell me now?"
"I..." says Peter, tense in Larry's grip.
"The feeling's mutual." Larry hugs Peter closer. "Because I think I'm in love with you too."
It's Peter's turn to laugh, and suddenly he stumbles, his legs giving way, and they both tumble down into Peter's chair. But before Larry can extricate himself from Peter's lap, Peter kisses him.
Larry kisses back, warmly, and they stay locked in that embrace for a long time, breaking apart only to laugh breathlessly and knock their foreheads together like affectionate schoolboys.
Eventually, even though they still have red cheeks and racing pulses, Peter stands and leaves to go find them both a stiff drink.
Left alone, Larry can't help giggling to himself. He almost feels drunk already.
Peter. Peter. Oh Peter. All these years and he only tells him now. The fool.
For a moment, Larry is content to remain where he is, sprawled in the chair, but after a while, he straightens up. His thoughts wander to the letter that started this all: a love-letter, from silly, adorable Peter.
Curiously, Larry wonders how Peter was going to tell him. There's no sign of Peter returning imminently, so Larry stands, and steals over to Peter's desk.
There the letter is, poking out from beneath the pile of books. Carefully, Larry places them to one side, and picks the letter up to read it.
***
My dear Larry,
I don't quite know how to say this to you, and in a letter of all things. But I suppose it is best for me to just tell you.
I received a letter from Dr. Stiles this morning. He says that your father's operation was unsuccessful: he passed away yesterday afternoon.
I know how hard this news must be for you, Larry, and if there's anything at all that I can do for you, I