Short breathing. Everything all at one too loud and too quiet as all either of them could focus on was skin on skin, lips on everything they could reach, quiet grunts and heated pants echoing in the dimly lit room, just dark enough to make it slightly eerie, but light enough to be electric with energy and power.
Teeth bared and everything exposed to the air and to each other, the covers had been kicked away a long time ago as fingernails dug into skin and that wonderful, wonderful voice, usually so excited and happy made unguided noises, the vocal chords rendered completely unable to form anything worth making out as words. That was exactly the way he wanted it.
Glasses lost somewhere in the sheets and a tie cast away, probably dangling on the edge of the bed, likely to slide off by the time they finished. Well-bitten lips hung open as unseeing eyes stared glazedly up at the ceiling, legs spread and back pressed down, chest heaving and gradually louder grunts punctuated by exaggerated moans; Arthur could only grin.
This was exactly where the American belonged, beneath him, writhing in pleasure and bliss, totally lost in the grip of Arthur's embrace, groaning his content with this position to anyone who might have been anywhere near enough to hear. The Briton replied with happy grunts and pants as he thrusted himself deeper and deeper into the greedy and inviting entrance, lulling Alfred further into that happiness and ecstasy-induced state that just looked sop at home on him.
This had been a common occurrence for a while, the two tumbling into the sheets both too eagerly and too slowly for either to be truly happy, only finding solace in pulling each other closer and tearing at every inch of open flesh and exposed skin, marking each other with kisses, bites and scratches. Alfred had no desire to look to any human for pleasure of this caliber anymore- Arthur was all that he needed, and the feeling was completely mutual. They didn't care if it was unorthodox, but they did it anyways, their attraction coming in explosions of passion and possessiveness.
Should anyone, human, Fellow, man and woman alike look in their direction, it sparked so much jealousy in the other, and each loved it, for when that angry reclaiming, reminders of who belonged to whom, they were beautifully passionate. Outside of the bedroom, they were comfortably together, trading economic deals and speaking in hushed tones quietly loving phrases and tender tones of affection. They seemed to be nothing more than happily accepted friends to the other Fellows, but to anyone willing to look into the Special Relationship any closer than the surface, it was amazingly clear how much more physical and beautiful that Relationship truly was.
Neither remembered when this started, and neither cared. They knew each other in much more intimate ways than either was truly comfortable with, but they kept at it anyway, not caring for the difference and opposition anyone might hold against them. They were of different nations, and to them, Fellows, to them that difference made everything so much more complicated and all the more beautiful that they could cast aside what should have been resentment or xenophobia so easily, top surrender to a much more primal desire and cling together through passions so wild that they rather doubted any human could have felt such raw attraction and still truly love their partner.
They passed and ignored any decree given to them. No Monroe Doctrine nor British Isolation could stop them from clinging to their passionate lover and constantly finding some way, some loophole, some escape to see each other.
Who knew when this started? Perhaps they were always like this, but they possessed each other in a way beyond politics and far ahead of the national culture that bound their every thought so limitedly and harshly, forcing past what should have been in favour of what could have been. This was the passion that erupted in the beautiful music of the British Invasion, the strong bond between Alfred and Arthur that no war nor declaration could ever break or even crack.
Constantly there for each other through pain and suffering, illness and depression, victory, defeat, success and everything they needed for all to go their way or all that it took to press them into the end. They could weather any storm that might have attacked what they had, and were too hotly passionate, too coolly intimate and content with each other to happily snuggle into each other to the point that what they held was really and truly love in the finest.
They belonged together, and nothing would ever, ever stop them.
This was all that flowed through their minds as, in the sweaty and blissful throes of spent passion, completely exhausted and covered in the heavy scent of sex and power, the American loosely draping his arms around Arthur's shoulders, and each of them snuggled happily into the other, drifting into sleep, their relationship solidified and strengthened forevermore.
This is what that Special Relationship truly was.