Author's Note: Kind of a self-indulgent fic I came up with instead of sleeping based on the recent translation.
Francis exited the meeting hall, head held high. Another successful attempt at getting under Arthur’s skin. Now, of course, Arthur was easy to rile up, but Francis had a special touch, able to get him both flustered and angry in a matter of seconds. After all, he knew Arthur better than anyone else.
But now, in the quiet of the evening and golden paint of the setting sun, the heat of the moment simmered to embers. Was their relationship really nothing beyond politics? Were they merely allies, bound together by a piece of paper and nothing more?
What a way to sour the mood…
Francis returned to his hotel room, now feeling heavy. He threw on his pajamas and crawled into his bed. But his mind continued to spiral. What was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted source of banter was becoming more and more depressing by the minute.
They were all too aware of what was the cause of this sudden shift to melancholy. Though they refused to admit it even to themself, Francis had been in love with Arthur for well over a century. Perhaps even multiple centuries, though before the 1900s, Francis had been deep in denial about it.
His wallowing was cut short by a knock at the door. Fixing his hair and throwing on a t-shirt, Francis stumbled over to the door.
Arthur stood on the other side, a bouquet and a bottle of wine in hand. His face was a deep shade of red, and his eyes roamed around, never landing on Francis.
Francis’s jaw literally dropped at the sight. The proper thing to do would be to let the Englishman in or tell him to go away, but Francis was frozen in place, words caught in his throat.
“Are you going to let me in?” Arthur scoffed.
Francis let out a strangled noise at the back of his throat before moving away to let their guest in wordlessly. He watched as Arthur placed the bottle and flowers on the desk and draped his suit jacket on the back of the chair. The Brit rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms and causing Francis to audibly gulp
"What's all this?" Francis finally asked.
"I…” Arthur said softly, all his former suaveness dissipating, “I-I want to do this right... a-and in private."
"You're very special to me Francis.” Arthur took hold of Francis’s hands roughly. “I wouldn't be who I am today without you. Sometimes I wonder if I would even be here at all. Whether I've liked it or not, you have been a constant in my ever-changing and fragile world a-and… I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I… I-I love you. Not just as a friend, or lover… It's something… Indescribable really, but beyond all that.”
Francis smiled softly. "How long did it take you to rehearse that?"
Francis's cheeks burned. They were expecting some witty reply, a joking “a couple hours or so.” But this…All this time…It made their heart flutter.
"But I meant every word," Arthur stated, squeezing Francis's hand.
"I-I know… Oh, Arthur…Wow, I've dreamed of this, I'm just trying to process it all."
Arthur chuckled. "We've waited this long. Take all the time you need darling."
Under the loving gaze Francis never thought possible, the Frenchman felt himself melting. But he was not about to stammer like a lovesick schoolgirl (though he felt like one at that moment), he pulled Arthur close, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck. He buried his nose in Arthur’s unruly yet soft hair, the faintest scent of the ocean. The saltwater had never truly left him after all these years it seemed.
“Je t’aime aussi mon petit lapin…" Francis whispered, “This is what I’ve wanted for so long.”
Arthur smiled against Francis's neck. “Me too.”
Francis pulled Arthur even closer but lost their balance in the process falling back onto the bed, and pulling Arthur down on top of him. He giggled at the sight of Arthur above him, red-faced, eyes scanning over him. Was this what they called being undressed with someone’s eyes?
“Arthur,” Francis purred, smirking, “Something you want?”
Arthur buried his face in the crook of Francis’s neck. “N-No. I-I mean…I just want to…stay like this.”
Francis couldn’t help but beam. “Okay.”
And so, the two just laid there, tangled in each other as the sunset. Until the time for dinner came around and they went back into their usual habit of bickering, though this time, wrapped up in each other’s arms.
