[ Sometimes he wishes he didn't care so much because America was a disaster, but he's been a disaster too. It'd be unfair to completely turn his back, but did that really equate to having the younger blond suck his dick under a nice shady tree?

The dust of pink along his cheeks and the grope answers that well enough and he hisses out a breath. ]

How about we just start with the lips and tongue... [ His hands drop and ease the fabric further out of the way. Tight pants be damned. ] I saw how you treated that strawberry.

[ His attention darts from America's form to the space around him. There is something seriously wrong with him for letting America get this far, but he's hard and the younger blond's eagerness and relative inexperience kind of do things for him. France's hand rests on the boy's broad shoulders and squeezes, beckoning him closer to his prize. ]

So impatient. I hope you aren't planning on rushing through this just because someone might walk across us?

[ It'd be easier to make an excuse if America hadn't taken off his shirt, but here we are. ]