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Words Left Unsaid

Summary:

Claude confessed to his lover in a letter a lifetime ago, but never sent it. Centuries later, he gets an unexpected phone call.

Notes:

I saw this post last night and got a brain worm, literally because the post uses the name "Claude." xD

This is not a fleshed out AU in anyway: We have immortals Dimitri and Claude, lovers, but never official, until now? Dimitri is a museum curator, Claude is... somehow employed. -shrugs-

This is not beta read, just had to get the idea out of my brain. Hope you enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Work Text:

Lightning illuminates the empty apartment momentarily before he flips the light switch, a clap of thunder shaking the windows. Locking the door behind him, Claude drops his work bag on the dining table. It’s late, it’s been a long week, and all he wants to do is embrace sleep.

How mortals work most of their lives, he’ll never understand.

From his pocket, his phone emits a shrill tone. Reading the caller id, it’s not someone in his contacts, most likely spam or a robocall. Normally, he would just let the phone ring or send it over to voicemail, but for some reason, he swipes to accept the call.

“This is Claude.”

There’s nothing but silence on the other end of the line.

He sighs, shoulders falling. “Look, if you’re calling about my extended warranty, I don’t have one. And I know I didn’t enter to win a vacation pack--”

“It’s me.”

Claude freezes. “Dimitri,” he greets, his voice surprisingly steady. “It’s been awhile. Not to sound ungrateful, but, how did you get this number?”

“I called in a favor,” the other man deadpanned.

“I see,” Claude moves the phone from ear to ear as he shrugs out of his jacket. “Didn’t know you kept in touch with the Professor too.”

“I don’t.”

“Ah. Judging by your tone, this isn’t a social call then?”

Dimitri hesitates on the other end of the line. “I… I came across something interesting in my latest exhibit. Thought you might find it interesting.”

Definitely not a social call. Claude hums and pours himself a glass of bourbon.

“We have a collection of documents and letters from an ancient country long forgotten,” Dimitri continued. “The best we can figure is they’re from around 1185 or so.”

“Do you need a translator?” Claude asks nonchalantly, content to play dumb. “My knowledge of ancient languages is limited, but I may know someone--”

“What I need you to do, is explain why you wrote me a love letter and never sent it!”

Claude’s blood ran cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking--”

“My greatest regret,” Dimitri recites, cutting him off, “is that I will not be there to see your new world--our new world. I’m leaving… but nothing will stop me from coming back to you. Someday. I love you, with everything that I am. Always. Signed, Your Beloved.”

Claude scratches at his neck and lets out a nervous laugh. “Wow, Dimitri. That’s lovely, truly. But I didn’t write it.”

“Khalid,” Dimitri states, ignoring Claude’s denial. “It’s signed, Your Beloved, Khalid.”

The silence stretched between them, thick even across telephone lines.

“I would know your prose anywhere, Khalid,” Dimitri continues softly, almost a whisper. “Do not lie to me.”

Claude let’s out a resigned sigh and sips his drink, welcoming the burn and warmth in his chest. “Alright, I won’t lie to you,” he concedes. “In my defense, you were never supposed to see that.”

“Why not?” Dimitri demands, voice thick with emotion, hurt, betrayal, frustration. “Why didn’t you say anything? In all this time--centuries, Khalid--we have crossed paths time and again and you’ve remained silent! You left that day without so much as a goodbye and--”

“What would you have me say, Mitya?” Claude counters, silently berating himself for how easily the casual nickname slipped past his lips. “It was a different world! You had a kingdom to unite and they never would have let you rule if they found out about us! I left so you could grasp your destiny!”

You were my destiny, Khalid!” Dimitri shouts, so loud Claude has to pull the phone from his ear. Dimitri continued, softer, “I would have given it all away to be with you.”

Claude sighs. “I know, Mitya. And I couldn’t let you do that.”

Silence again. All the centuries between them, the decades of run-ins and hookups that ultimately led to nothing had led them to now.

“And now?” the other man asks.

Claude’s heart raced like he was a lovesick student, back at the academy, falling in love with a Prince. Only Dimitri could make him feel like this. Always Dimitri…

“It is a different world now,” Dimitri observes. “I am not bound to royal obligations. People are more accepting. Maybe…” he trails off, a question left unasked, but understood nonetheless.

Maybe we can try again?

Claude allows himself a smile. “I can be on a plane tonight,” he offers.

He can hear the smile in Dimitri’s response. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

Notes:

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you'd like more of this - I think it would be fun to explore. ^-^

I'm on twitter, @amirah_leigh.

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