[ They'd been very pretty grapes and sweet making it difficult to resist the temptation of eating too many. France had even considered buying more just to see what kind of wine they could produce. He and America had crossed paths before he could return to the booth and haggle with the vendor. Wine is the furthest thing from his mind, which speaks volumes.
The way that he pants and goes slightly unsteady at the graze of teeth also speaks volumes. America speaks and ruins whatever patience the older man has. That is what the blond excelled at when it came to their partnership. There were fond feelings, yes, but then the rebellious side would come out to battle them. France is silent for a moment, eyes drawn to where the boy's hands worked the fly of his own jeans, transfixed at the display. ]
You wanted to learn, but you dig your heels in so stubbornly.
[ France's eyes are definitely watching the blur of skin on skin as his hand strokes quickly, groaning in mild frustration. He'd be lying if he didn't want to show him by example. Instead, he grabs the back of America's head, smirking at the rather forward demand. ]
Make me.
[ Also a heathen, France forces himself past America's lips, uncaring if he got teeth or not. The initial effort is paced, and when he hits the back of the boy's throat he tightens his hold on the hair in his fingers and holds him there just to feel the muscles work around him. He grunts and wets his lips. ]
I think that you like this more than you let on, America.
[ It's rhetorical, so much that it seems that France is doing his best to deter the blond from pulling off his dick at all to retort. They aren't in the kind of position to linger for too much longer, something that France is aware of in both the pragmatic and perverse sense. Maybe that's what makes him all the more eager to use the younger nation's mouth for his own pleasure. He'll make up for it later when they don't have the danger of prying eyes on them.
The pace is what hints at France being close but he pulls out before that happens. America had made a request, after all. He makes a mess, as it were, all over America's flushed cheeks and along his jaw. It takes him a moment to catch his breath but when he does he says something that he's probably going to have regrets about later: ]
no subject
The way that he pants and goes slightly unsteady at the graze of teeth also speaks volumes. America speaks and ruins whatever patience the older man has. That is what the blond excelled at when it came to their partnership. There were fond feelings, yes, but then the rebellious side would come out to battle them. France is silent for a moment, eyes drawn to where the boy's hands worked the fly of his own jeans, transfixed at the display. ]
You wanted to learn, but you dig your heels in so stubbornly.
[ France's eyes are definitely watching the blur of skin on skin as his hand strokes quickly, groaning in mild frustration. He'd be lying if he didn't want to show him by example. Instead, he grabs the back of America's head, smirking at the rather forward demand. ]
Make me.
[ Also a heathen, France forces himself past America's lips, uncaring if he got teeth or not. The initial effort is paced, and when he hits the back of the boy's throat he tightens his hold on the hair in his fingers and holds him there just to feel the muscles work around him. He grunts and wets his lips. ]
I think that you like this more than you let on, America.
[ It's rhetorical, so much that it seems that France is doing his best to deter the blond from pulling off his dick at all to retort. They aren't in the kind of position to linger for too much longer, something that France is aware of in both the pragmatic and perverse sense. Maybe that's what makes him all the more eager to use the younger nation's mouth for his own pleasure. He'll make up for it later when they don't have the danger of prying eyes on them.
The pace is what hints at France being close but he pulls out before that happens. America had made a request, after all. He makes a mess, as it were, all over America's flushed cheeks and along his jaw. It takes him a moment to catch his breath but when he does he says something that he's probably going to have regrets about later: ]
Come back to mine. We can get you cleaned up.