[ If France is observant, he'll notice that there's a little more privacy behind that abandoned booth a few yards away, but it seems like America doesn't really mind the more open area. It's clearly the effects of having too many dick strawberries. His shirt is off cause it feels cooler and nicer, plus he doesn't want anything to stain it. He can be a sloppy guy, but he's pretty meticulous when it comes to his appearance and clothing.. something France could see eye to eye with. ]
I don't give a crap about that.
[ Lewd fruits aside, he probably would have an issue with this, but here we are. He continues to handle the other man through his undergarment, dipping forward to use those lips and tongue to start kissing him on the cheek, ear and throat. He murmurs against him. ]
I trust you a lot, so you should fuck me also.
[ ISN'T IT.. NICE TO HAVE PEOPLE BE SO DIRECT SOMETIMES? But the serious question: is he meaning in public like this? Would either of them have the preparation things handy? It's his lust talking without thought, it is.]
[ Wow, that's a red flag there and for a second France is aware of it enough past the lusty fruit-fest they're riding to part his lips and begin to protest. A moan comes out instead because America's palm is hot and rubbing him through his underwear. The novelty of having that warm mouth soon follow has him hard and straining against the fabric.
His eyes do dart over to the abandoned booth before America speaks and makes him groan in frustration. France isn't prepared to randomly fuck America but his body certainly seems to be keen at the idea. His cock jerks under a particular upward stroke and he reaches forward to grab for the younger blond's hand to still the motion. ]
Let's move. [ He presses his fingers against America's smooth jaw to point his attention toward the booth and maybe he even leans in to press a kiss, firmly, just below his ear.] One thing at a time. I will have you. [ The fingers around America's wrist release him and he slips it between their bodies to squeeze at him through his jeans. ] Repeatedly.
[ All this does is earn a rather pitiful whine from the younger nation and his nose curls in some frustration that they have to interrupt what they're doing now to move. It is an interesting and tempting spot for them to continue their little encounter and America follows without second thought until they are completely concealed behind the other side of the booth's backing. Instantly, he falls to his knees. It's that quick.
His hands go forth without hesitance to expose France, bringing his clothing down to his ankles and his palms face flat on the older man's hips, keeping him firm against the back of the booth. France is right; he's not one to linger or savor the moment. In fact, he handles the other blond at the base and tries to take him in completely.
.. which makes him choke a little so he backs it up a bit.
[ Despite his usual open-mindedness, at least in regard to casual sex, France still harbors some misconceptions about America apparently; namely the boy suffering from his Puritan upbringing. He doesn't know if this is something he'd do back home or not. What France knows is that this is different. His feet seem to carry themselves to the booth on their own accord before he has the chance to think too hard on it.
Other things he doesn't want to think about: America choking on his dick.
So he doesn't. His fingers find America's hair and he tugs with just enough tension to get the boy's attention. ]
So eager. Try again, slowly. [ He feels a rush at ordering America to do it all again. The only thing that keeps France from physically urging his length down the other blond's throat is the strong hand pinning his hips to the back of the booth. It's like a trainwreck but he can't look away. Really, America is cute. Even with a dick in his mouth. Particularly under that condition, actually. ]
[ He is cute, isn't he? There something to be said about one of England's former colonies being so submissive so easily. France should feel pretty good about it now.. if it weren't for the fact his energy is so naive. America's time in Lunatia has taught him a thing or two about being seductive, but obviously not enough.
He retracts his lips to talk, oh god. ]
Dude, don't tell me what to do! Let me do it my way..!
[ That's how it's always been, hasn't it? Anyway, red looks good on him. The dick in his mouth isn't what is getting him to blush; it's France talking to him like he's a child.. even though he is a lot younger.
Despite his words, he does listen to France and goes slowly, his eyes fanning shut as he attempts to take the other man in with a more acceptable pace. He couldn't tell you why he loved doing this so much. It probably had something to do with the fact he had an oral fixation.
His soft lips seal tighter over France's length and he picks up a steady pace, surprisingly mindful of his teeth. His eyes open to glance upward for approval, swirling the flat of his tongue over the tip at one point when he slides his head back. ]
[ He would be more prone to guilt over America's somewhat clumsy seduction if he didn't know better; he is far from the first the younger nation's had. He's not turned off with the naivety. He does, however, experience a flash of annoyance when America's stubbornness shows itself. It explained why this was as far as the younger blond had gotten in terms of approach and technique. ]
You have better use for that mouth than sassing me.
[ It's a good thing that America enjoys sucking dick enough to mostly ignore France's bad habit of scolding him. Unfortunately, it comes naturally even if he's fond of the younger nation. He's easily distracted though when America listens, causing the Frenchman to exhale sharply and push his hands deeper into America's hair. For now, he lets the younger blond go at his own pace, taking in as much of him as could. Those eyes looking up and it's difficult to not call that twist in his gut foreboding.
Denial is something that he excels at. Rather than push him off his free hand cups the underside of America's chin, fingertips brushing against the slope of the blond's adam's apple. ]
Do you think you'll choke this time?
[ He thinks that it's easier to pose a challenge instead. That conscious is going to kill him. ]
[ America responds, dick still in mouth, which was equal to a "no." He could have responded right after he slips his mouth back and releases France, flushed, eyes filled with lust as he looks up at the other man to take in a breath. He's really playing it up— not like he really mean to— he just does. ]
Wait..
[ His voice is actually softer this time and he spends the next few moments running his tongue along the side of the other man's prick, dipping down a little further to give some attention to his balls aswell. When he shifts and looks up at France, he'll give him a squeeze down there too. He finally takes his other hand off of France's hip and tries to take him in further, suppressing his gag reflex. He's doing his best, though. ]
[ Grapes. Grapes were making him horny for America's bedroom eyes. He'd be angry if he knew, but he doesn't, and that's okay because he's just getting his fingers dug into a particularly stubborn itch he's had for over a year now. What's worse is that he knows he probably looks just as intent as the blond on his knees right now; there's no brushing it off or making jokes.
There's only quietly offered praise, muttered low so only the younger nation can hear, when America tongue slides down his length. An eyebrow lifts at the squeeze, but from the way his stomach clenches the attention hit the right spot. ]
You have no right to look this attractive right now.
[ He's taking a step back from the snark to gently tease America instead, though from how his breath catches and twists into a moan it might be more of a compliment. The lack of a hand on his hip to anchor him in place is noted, but he doesn't automatically grab the back of the younger nation's head and force him down. Not yet.
That would be selfish... but damn if the faint flutter of America's throat against the tip of his erection doesn't inspire a bit of greed out of the Frenchman. If there are any hands on him France gently pushes them off, tapping America's jaw to get his attention. ]
Touch yourself for me. [ Their position doesn't offer France much of an opportunity to pay America back for his efforts and he'd hate for him to go without release. His lips curve and he winds his fingers back in that short blond hair. ] I'll make it up to you when I get you back home, hm?
[ Those must have been some pretty blue grapes. His eyes are rather twinkly, though. He seems to be doing a pretty decent job for someone who lacks experience, but it's the fact he doesn't want to keep his mouth shut that might ruin everything. Just like here, where he slides his mouth back, teeth accidentally grazing the other man. He blurts out: ]
I'm always attractive..!!
[ Oh. Sensitive, much? ]
Don't tell me what to do; I was just gonna do that! I'm gonna touch myself for myself. You got that?
[ He busies himself unfastening his denims and exposes himself. He's hard. It's kind of surprising he hasn't fussed about this until now, but his hand works.. um, rather quickly. His other hand takes France by the base and he pants against the other blond before teasing him at the tip, lips sealing tightly over the end. He stops just to talk, again, but sounds a lot more huskier: ]
[ 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: ]
[ Farmer's Market wine is a terrifying idea. France should have done it.
He's a little surprised when France just forces himself in there, but he really isn't too surprised. After all, he did take note of how the older man reacted when his teeth scraped along his length.. as it does again. America makes a muffled noise but squeezes his eyes shut, not surprised of what comes next. The way his hair was held was a perfect sign France wanted just this.. and America didn't protest at all.
Yes, he does like this more than he lets on.
He pants and opens his eyes when France his finished, his eyes slightly hazy as his partner's release hits his face. It feels so good.. he didn't know why he liked this so much.. the hot feeling over his reddened cheeks that cooled quickly. It's ultimately what makes him finish too, one hand still gripping his length and the other lifting up to his own face. He cleans off the mess with his fingers, shamelessly sticking them in his mouth without a word; only some ravenous moaning. He doesn't want to move right away, preoccupied by cleaning up himself in his own way. France didn't taste too bad, but America ate all sorts of gross and salty foods. He just liked it— it was one of his kinks he hadn't really discovered until he got more experience here.
Still trying to regain his composure, he speaks between jagged breaths: ]
D.. Don't rush me.
[ Cool. He gets to walk around in public wih his cum-stained face, nice. ]
[ Sometimes he hates his libido for the ridiculous thing that it is. He's still not clued in on how much the bountiful harvest has played it up in regard to bedding America. He just knows he wants to see the rest of the boy's body. Maybe he'll give him a nice massage for being so good on his knees? That sounds formidable in France's mind.
In for a penny, right? ]
You seem intent on rushing me into having my way with you again.
[ If America is content to put on a show, France isn't going to be rude and not watch it. At least he has the mind to close his trousers back up before he swipes his thumb smoothly over a spot that the younger blond had missed. It'd be a shame to leave that there, even if it's obscene enough to make France happy. He presses against America's plumped lips, hinting that his fingers weren't the only to deserve special treatment. ]
Why am I surprised that you'd be this showy, hm?
[ Not that he disapproves. Still, he's in the spot of implying rather than demanding they get out of here. ]
[ Wow. So bossy. His nose wrinkles when France gets a spot he missed but doesn't seem to protest when he gets a kiss. It's almost as if his body is contradicting his words. ]
I can be showy 'cause people should look at me. I don't see you looking away, dumbass.
[ Why is he like this? In any case, he's compliant after his shirt gets back on and goes with France without a fuss and.. without much of any words, actually. There's still some mess on his hands and the second he's inside, he helps himself to the bathroom to wash up only to, undoubtedly, get messy again.
In fact, France will see him stripping off his clothes, again, as he emerges out of the bathroom. If France doesn't stop him, he's going in for a kiss once his shirt is discarded.. again.
[ Why is he like this. At least with his pants up and his shirt neatly arranged the elder of the two looks a little more composed than he had during the whole thing. America's arguing makes him roll his eyes nonetheless. ]
I'm getting you a gag. It's dirty talk, America. Spare me the unwarranted defense.
[ His hand does slip low on the boy's back from time to time on their walk back to his place where he does his own cleaning up. They're only apart for a few minutes, but France's libido wins out and has him walking toward the bedroom. It's not his fault that America's already got his shirt halfway off when he walks in. His eyes narrow in silent speculation as if something deep in his subconscious is trying to tell him that this is wrong. The sure, steady pressure of America's lips on his makes him pine and wind his arms around him to pull him in until there's no space between their bodies.
He gets his ass squeeze in while he's at it. Very nice. His teeth dig into America's lip for the sass he got earlier. ]
Why don't you get comfortable? Over there.
[ France with his nice bed. The sheets look like they're plush. Good for sullying. ]
[ There's a bit of noise when his ass is grabbed but he should have expected something like that. It's where a lot of his weight carries, after all. He breaks their kiss and tucks in his lower lip, as if nursing where France bit it. What France is suggesting does seem like a good idea. Unlike France, he isn't feeling much apprehension this time around. Instead of jumping right on the bed, he opts in to busying himself with France's shirt, unbuttoning each one slowly. He doesn't say something for awhile as he does this until the shirt is undone and his hands begin to wander. The body hair is what gets the most attention and America actually smiles. ]
Dude, you just feel old.
[ What does that mean..! America. ]
How much sex have you had?
[ AMERICA. ]
Like.. a lot.. all the time, I bet. I'm really excited for you to show me a good time!
[ ... ah. That's when he breaks away and strips the rest of the way down, discarding all over his clothes and hopping onto the bed, enough to give it a little bounce before turning on his side to look at France, one of his hands lifting to remove his glasses once more. ]
[ He lets his hands wander to rest on America's hips, thumbs idly stroking his skin while the younger blond went to undo the buttons of his shirt. The moment America's hands start roaming his own shift to work at America's pants. He doesn't get far because ...yet again, America opens his mouth and distracts him. France's brow furrows and he tips his head in confusion. ]
How do I feel old? Body hair doesn't mean you're old...
[ He actually makes a sound at the bluntness of what tragedy comes from the boy's lips next. Uh. America. What a strange conversation they're having leading up to sleeping together??? ]
Darling, I do not kiss and tell but I am quite versed, you could say. I don't want to talk about other partners. My focus is on you right now.
[ Eager, isn't he? The Frenchman follows suit, stripping as well before he slips to the bed. It's like some strange, out of body experience to watch his hand roam over America's ribs and downward to lazily stroke his length. It's not weird enough to stop, or kiss the slightly bruised lip he was responsible for. ]
Why don't you tell me what you're most curious about and then we'll go from there?
[ Oh, there's a hitch in this breath when he's suddenly stroked, but he feels himself huddling to the other man closer. Did.. he suddenly look pretty coy? It seemed that way. He didn't think he'd really have a choice about all of this so he can't look France in the eyes when he speaks. ]
U—uhm.. I mean.. don't take this to wrong way like I don't know what I'm doing, or something.. I haven't really, like, I dunno, explored much of what I might like.. you know, kinky stuff, but..
[ But. ]
I don't.. know if you'd be interested in helping me with that. If not.. Austr--
[ Oh. Maybe he shouldn't drop names. ]
Someone.. used their fingers really well inside of me. I liked that.. um.. a lot.
[ Seeing him curl in slightly at the touch makes him feel strangely affectionate, maybe even fond; both emotions he's certainly felt for America in the most platonic sense. Certainly, what they're doing could be considered friendly, but it's just the slightest bit different, enough that if he were to focus on it his head might hurt a little. The only thing that hurts is the inside of his cheek from biting it to hide the smile brought on by America's staggered breathing. Coy. Cute. Either or. The stutter makes him draw his hand from America's length to trace circles against his thigh.
Less distraction, but he still got to touch. He's unphased by false bravado but his brow raises, just a little flicker. Kinky stuff... This poor vanilla bean. ]
I'm listening... [ Which is good, because the younger nation keeps talking with that pretty (bratty) mouth of his. There's really no use in trailing off after that much of a slip but it's kind of adorable how he tried. He let's out a breath and reaches up to tip the other's face to look at his better. France doesn't seem upset. ]
I worship that man's hands. You lucked out, darling.
[ He does appreciate the mental image though. ]
I'd have loved to see it.
[ Not to say that cuckolding was out of the question. Maybe later. ]
I think he's home right now. Imagine if he overheard me having my way with you.
[ Perfect time to trail off and get the lube. America will either get flustered or be on board, but the slick finger teasing his ass might be distraction from whatever hangups he might be struggling with. ]
At least until you tell me what else you want me to help you with.
[ Jim Carey's version of the Grinch is getting some pretty hardcore competition with the face France is desperately hiding behind the hand not settled between America's splayed legs. It's not that he's making fun of his response. It's incredibly tempting to just slip over next door and grab his partner to watch the whole show, but it seems a little hasty. He forces his expression to appear calm, tutting under his breath as taps the inside of America's thigh to get him to spread his legs. Tart. ]
You certainly are singing his praises. Would you rather him fuck you or me?
[ He'll use the distraction to press a finger in. Austria's fingers are long and slender, perfect for his passion for music. France's are not what you would consider stocky, but they are thicker. He knows exactly what he's looking for as well, grinning openly when he taunts the blond's prostate with very little pretense. Too much ego showing still and not enough happy babbling. No dice, boss. ]
Maybe I should just tie you up like a pretty present and you could watch us instead? I'm sure he'd be good for you afterward.
[ He leans down to steal a kiss, humming against America's mouth before pulling away just enough to look at him as another finger eases in. He's slower this time, giving him time. ]
He has seen it before. I think I'm going to be selfish tonight if you don't mind?
[ For as stubborn as he is, America is good to listen when he knows he's going to ultimately get the outcome that he wants, so.. his thighs do spread apart, granting the older man more room. ]
Um.. I mean.. I was serious about what I said. I trust you. Not like I didn't trust him, but.. mmph.
[ He's startled by France's assertiveness, sucking in a breath and holding it for a moment when he's teased. He releases it, steady, and flicks his gaze to meet the other blond's. ]
Just.. don't laugh at me. Like, about anything.
[ There are all sorts of insecurities that he has and keeps at bay with his typical boisterous facade; putting him in this position really does make him vulnerable to letting all those uncertainty things about himself rise to the surface. He was nervous about his body image, mostly, or appearing like someone who is weak and out of control.
France's suggestion earns a curl of his nose. ]
No, thanks. I can tell you already I don't like anything like that.. [ The kiss is appreciated with a hum followed by him chasing after France's lips. France probably feels the muscle's around that single digit relax, but he does tense up at the second finger, grimacing until he can relax again. ]
F—Fine, whatever. Everyone deserves to be selfish now and then.
[ His spine curls and his hips shift once he's used to the feeling. ]
[ France has outgrown and performed being nervous around a partner, so it's strange to think America could feel that way. Logically, it makes sense. It'd taken him longer than a couple of centuries to mature physically, so he'd at least had that going for him. These are all things he can deliberate on later when he doesn't have his partner splayed out for their mutual enjoyment.
He makes a thoughtful sound acknowledging what America says, both to preference and fragility. His fingers twist, the movement less considerate to the blond's ability to sit later. Pain isn't something he has in mind when handling America; he doesn't particularly scope the younger nation as being a genuine masochist, but he does know that excess suits him.
A line of lubricant is drizzled over the underside of America's length, quickly spread over by the hand not massaging the boy's prostate. ]
If that's how you feel, fine. I'm curious which part of it you're uncomfortable with?
[ He squeezes, firmly but nothing to find anything but enjoyment from. ]
Is it being tied up or the objectification?
[ All good questions, if America wants to enjoy some kink in his sex life. He'll just patiently give the other a rather sufficient handjob while he waits. ]
I hope you're planning on staying up late, either way.
[ The movements that France makes shuts him up well enough.. well, it shuts him up making actual coherent words. His whole body tenses, but the fresh pre-cum dripping down his cock indicates he's enjoying it. Depending on what France does, this may not last as long as they both might have hoped. ]
Ah!
[ His head lulls to the side, burrowing in the pillow slightly, a vibrant red streaking over his cheeks. As the older blond continues, it become increasingly obvious he's a little overwhelmed with feeling. It isn't a bad thing, but it makes it difficult for him to conjure up a sentence in response to France right away. He's rather generous with his exclamations of "ahs" and "ohs" but finally he's able to speak, though his eyes are barely open. ]
I— hah— don't like being restricted.
[ He doesn't disagree or agree about being objectified. Truth of the matter, though, he likes the attention and being looked at. It probably doesn't bother him to be seen as just something sexy because being seen as something sexy is at least being seen as something. ]
You make the cutest sounds when you're enjoying yourself.
[ Leave it to France to complement the sounds a partner makes, but here he is speaking his mind before he has the sense to think America just might take offense to it. He presses a thumb against the underside of the blond's cock, guiding the pearly trail of pre-come back toward the tip, smiling to himself when he rolls a slicked palm directly over the flushed head.
He's not patient enough to edge the blond, so he'll go for an equally fun alternative. He knows exactly what he's doing as far as making America squirm. The younger blond is generous with how he moans and sighs; it's the only thing he can do is be generous with the multiple orgasms he wants to give. His hand slows when America forces out an answer. ]
I shouldn't be surprised by that, honestly. I won't tie you up then.
[ How reassuring. He also notes the lack of comment on being watched. Interesting. ]
Do you have any plans for the rest of your evening, America?
[ The thirst is real. So are the fingers rubbing at his companion's prostate. All the better to sweeten the notion of him staying here and being France's plaything. ]
I w.. wouldn't let you tie me up. And I'm not the cutest.
[ Where did he get such a bratty attitude anyway? Certainly it wasn't from England, right? Right? Maybe France knew more about that, but that's absolutely a discussion neither of them are ready to have yet.
The questions goes unanswered for a moment, refusing to look France in the face, but still delivering quite the plentiful amount of moans and jagged breath. His face looks the reddest than France has probably seen it. ]
Um.. I want to spend it with you.
[ He sounds sincere, at least, even if that wasn't what France was really asking. One of his legs hooks around the other man, encouraging some leverage as he rocks into his fingers. One of his hands clenches the bedding, tugging it near his face as if to obscure himself as he continues: ]
Do you.. know how to choke someone..?
[ It might be a surprising question coming from him. ]
I've never had that.. hnn done before. But.. I know how to do it. S..So..
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I don't give a crap about that.
[ Lewd fruits aside, he probably would have an issue with this, but here we are.
He continues to handle the other man through his undergarment, dipping forward to use those lips and tongue to start kissing him on the cheek, ear and throat. He murmurs against him. ]
I trust you a lot, so you should fuck me also.
[ ISN'T IT.. NICE TO HAVE PEOPLE BE SO DIRECT SOMETIMES? But the serious question: is he meaning in public like this? Would either of them have the preparation things handy? It's his lust talking without thought, it is.]
no subject
His eyes do dart over to the abandoned booth before America speaks and makes him groan in frustration. France isn't prepared to randomly fuck America but his body certainly seems to be keen at the idea. His cock jerks under a particular upward stroke and he reaches forward to grab for the younger blond's hand to still the motion. ]
Let's move. [ He presses his fingers against America's smooth jaw to point his attention toward the booth and maybe he even leans in to press a kiss, firmly, just below his ear.] One thing at a time. I will have you. [ The fingers around America's wrist release him and he slips it between their bodies to squeeze at him through his jeans. ] Repeatedly.
[ Gross. ]
no subject
His hands go forth without hesitance to expose France, bringing his clothing down to his ankles and his palms face flat on the older man's hips, keeping him firm against the back of the booth. France is right; he's not one to linger or savor the moment. In fact, he handles the other blond at the base and tries to take him in completely.
.. which makes him choke a little so he backs it up a bit.
Must be nice for him to be quiet for a change. ]
no subject
Other things he doesn't want to think about: America choking on his dick.
So he doesn't. His fingers find America's hair and he tugs with just enough tension to get the boy's attention. ]
So eager. Try again, slowly. [ He feels a rush at ordering America to do it all again. The only thing that keeps France from physically urging his length down the other blond's throat is the strong hand pinning his hips to the back of the booth. It's like a trainwreck but he can't look away. Really, America is cute. Even with a dick in his mouth. Particularly under that condition, actually. ]
no subject
He retracts his lips to talk, oh god. ]
Dude, don't tell me what to do! Let me do it my way..!
[ That's how it's always been, hasn't it? Anyway, red looks good on him. The dick in his mouth isn't what is getting him to blush; it's France talking to him like he's a child.. even though he is a lot younger.
Despite his words, he does listen to France and goes slowly, his eyes fanning shut as he attempts to take the other man in with a more acceptable pace. He couldn't tell you why he loved doing this so much. It probably had something to do with the fact he had an oral fixation.
His soft lips seal tighter over France's length and he picks up a steady pace, surprisingly mindful of his teeth. His eyes open to glance upward for approval, swirling the flat of his tongue over the tip at one point when he slides his head back. ]
no subject
You have better use for that mouth than sassing me.
[ It's a good thing that America enjoys sucking dick enough to mostly ignore France's bad habit of scolding him. Unfortunately, it comes naturally even if he's fond of the younger nation. He's easily distracted though when America listens, causing the Frenchman to exhale sharply and push his hands deeper into America's hair. For now, he lets the younger blond go at his own pace, taking in as much of him as could. Those eyes looking up and it's difficult to not call that twist in his gut foreboding.
Denial is something that he excels at. Rather than push him off his free hand cups the underside of America's chin, fingertips brushing against the slope of the blond's adam's apple. ]
Do you think you'll choke this time?
[ He thinks that it's easier to pose a challenge instead. That conscious is going to kill him. ]
no subject
[ America responds, dick still in mouth, which was equal to a "no." He could have responded right after he slips his mouth back and releases France, flushed, eyes filled with lust as he looks up at the other man to take in a breath. He's really playing it up— not like he really mean to— he just does. ]
Wait..
[ His voice is actually softer this time and he spends the next few moments running his tongue along the side of the other man's prick, dipping down a little further to give some attention to his balls aswell. When he shifts and looks up at France, he'll give him a squeeze down there too. He finally takes his other hand off of France's hip and tries to take him in further, suppressing his gag reflex. He's doing his best, though. ]
no subject
There's only quietly offered praise, muttered low so only the younger nation can hear, when America tongue slides down his length. An eyebrow lifts at the squeeze, but from the way his stomach clenches the attention hit the right spot. ]
You have no right to look this attractive right now.
[ He's taking a step back from the snark to gently tease America instead, though from how his breath catches and twists into a moan it might be more of a compliment. The lack of a hand on his hip to anchor him in place is noted, but he doesn't automatically grab the back of the younger nation's head and force him down. Not yet.
That would be selfish... but damn if the faint flutter of America's throat against the tip of his erection doesn't inspire a bit of greed out of the Frenchman. If there are any hands on him France gently pushes them off, tapping America's jaw to get his attention. ]
Touch yourself for me. [ Their position doesn't offer France much of an opportunity to pay America back for his efforts and he'd hate for him to go without release. His lips curve and he winds his fingers back in that short blond hair. ] I'll make it up to you when I get you back home, hm?
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I'm always attractive..!!
[ Oh. Sensitive, much? ]
Don't tell me what to do; I was just gonna do that! I'm gonna touch myself for myself. You got that?
[ He busies himself unfastening his denims and exposes himself. He's hard. It's kind of surprising he hasn't fussed about this until now, but his hand works.. um, rather quickly. His other hand takes France by the base and he pants against the other blond before teasing him at the tip, lips sealing tightly over the end. He stops just to talk, again, but sounds a lot more huskier: ]
You better make a mess all over me.
[ Heathen. ]
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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.
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He's a little surprised when France just forces himself in there, but he really isn't too surprised. After all, he did take note of how the older man reacted when his teeth scraped along his length.. as it does again. America makes a muffled noise but squeezes his eyes shut, not surprised of what comes next. The way his hair was held was a perfect sign France wanted just this.. and America didn't protest at all.
Yes, he does like this more than he lets on.
He pants and opens his eyes when France his finished, his eyes slightly hazy as his partner's release hits his face. It feels so good.. he didn't know why he liked this so much.. the hot feeling over his reddened cheeks that cooled quickly. It's ultimately what makes him finish too, one hand still gripping his length and the other lifting up to his own face. He cleans off the mess with his fingers, shamelessly sticking them in his mouth without a word; only some ravenous moaning. He doesn't want to move right away, preoccupied by cleaning up himself in his own way. France didn't taste too bad, but America ate all sorts of gross and salty foods. He just liked it— it was one of his kinks he hadn't really discovered until he got more experience here.
Still trying to regain his composure, he speaks between jagged breaths: ]
D.. Don't rush me.
[ Cool. He gets to walk around in public wih his cum-stained face, nice. ]
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In for a penny, right? ]
You seem intent on rushing me into having my way with you again.
[ If America is content to put on a show, France isn't going to be rude and not watch it. At least he has the mind to close his trousers back up before he swipes his thumb smoothly over a spot that the younger blond had missed. It'd be a shame to leave that there, even if it's obscene enough to make France happy. He presses against America's plumped lips, hinting that his fingers weren't the only to deserve special treatment. ]
Why am I surprised that you'd be this showy, hm?
[ Not that he disapproves. Still, he's in the spot of implying rather than demanding they get out of here. ]
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[ Wow. So bossy. His nose wrinkles when France gets a spot he missed but doesn't seem to protest when he gets a kiss. It's almost as if his body is contradicting his words. ]
I can be showy 'cause people should look at me. I don't see you looking away, dumbass.
[ Why is he like this? In any case, he's compliant after his shirt gets back on and goes with France without a fuss and.. without much of any words, actually. There's still some mess on his hands and the second he's inside, he helps himself to the bathroom to wash up only to, undoubtedly, get messy again.
In fact, France will see him stripping off his clothes, again, as he emerges out of the bathroom. If France doesn't stop him, he's going in for a kiss once his shirt is discarded.. again.
Yeah, he is a little too eager. ]
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I'm getting you a gag. It's dirty talk, America. Spare me the unwarranted defense.
[ His hand does slip low on the boy's back from time to time on their walk back to his place where he does his own cleaning up. They're only apart for a few minutes, but France's libido wins out and has him walking toward the bedroom. It's not his fault that America's already got his shirt halfway off when he walks in. His eyes narrow in silent speculation as if something deep in his subconscious is trying to tell him that this is wrong. The sure, steady pressure of America's lips on his makes him pine and wind his arms around him to pull him in until there's no space between their bodies.
He gets his ass squeeze in while he's at it. Very nice. His teeth dig into America's lip for the sass he got earlier. ]
Why don't you get comfortable? Over there.
[ France with his nice bed. The sheets look like they're plush. Good for sullying. ]
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Dude, you just feel old.
[ What does that mean..! America. ]
How much sex have you had?
[ AMERICA. ]
Like.. a lot.. all the time, I bet. I'm really excited for you to show me a good time!
[ ... ah. That's when he breaks away and strips the rest of the way down, discarding all over his clothes and hopping onto the bed, enough to give it a little bounce before turning on his side to look at France, one of his hands lifting to remove his glasses once more. ]
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How do I feel old? Body hair doesn't mean you're old...
[ He actually makes a sound at the bluntness of what tragedy comes from the boy's lips next. Uh. America. What a strange conversation they're having leading up to sleeping together??? ]
Darling, I do not kiss and tell but I am quite versed, you could say. I don't want to talk about other partners. My focus is on you right now.
[ Eager, isn't he? The Frenchman follows suit, stripping as well before he slips to the bed. It's like some strange, out of body experience to watch his hand roam over America's ribs and downward to lazily stroke his length. It's not weird enough to stop, or kiss the slightly bruised lip he was responsible for. ]
Why don't you tell me what you're most curious about and then we'll go from there?
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[ Oh, there's a hitch in this breath when he's suddenly stroked, but he feels himself huddling to the other man closer. Did.. he suddenly look pretty coy? It seemed that way. He didn't think he'd really have a choice about all of this so he can't look France in the eyes when he speaks. ]
U—uhm.. I mean.. don't take this to wrong way like I don't know what I'm doing, or something.. I haven't really, like, I dunno, explored much of what I might like.. you know, kinky stuff, but..
[ But. ]
I don't.. know if you'd be interested in helping me with that. If not.. Austr--
[ Oh. Maybe he shouldn't drop names. ]
Someone.. used their fingers really well inside of me. I liked that.. um.. a lot.
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Less distraction, but he still got to touch. He's unphased by false bravado but his brow raises, just a little flicker. Kinky stuff... This poor vanilla bean. ]
I'm listening... [ Which is good, because the younger nation keeps talking with that pretty (bratty) mouth of his. There's really no use in trailing off after that much of a slip but it's kind of adorable how he tried. He let's out a breath and reaches up to tip the other's face to look at his better. France doesn't seem upset. ]
I worship that man's hands. You lucked out, darling.
[ He does appreciate the mental image though. ]
I'd have loved to see it.
[ Not to say that cuckolding was out of the question. Maybe later. ]
I think he's home right now. Imagine if he overheard me having my way with you.
[ Perfect time to trail off and get the lube. America will either get flustered or be on board, but the slick finger teasing his ass might be distraction from whatever hangups he might be struggling with. ]
At least until you tell me what else you want me to help you with.
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[ ????
France's idea gets his blue eyes to widen and he stammers out: ]
Dude, that would be so..
[ The next word dwindles in his mouth before he closes his lips and then speaks again. ]
I mean, he can watch if he wants... everyone should look at me. It's not like he hasn't seen it before.
[ OH. WHAT. ]
I bet he would come just looking at me.
[ PUT SOAP IN HIS MOUTH. ]
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You certainly are singing his praises. Would you rather him fuck you or me?
[ He'll use the distraction to press a finger in. Austria's fingers are long and slender, perfect for his passion for music. France's are not what you would consider stocky, but they are thicker. He knows exactly what he's looking for as well, grinning openly when he taunts the blond's prostate with very little pretense. Too much ego showing still and not enough happy babbling. No dice, boss. ]
Maybe I should just tie you up like a pretty present and you could watch us instead? I'm sure he'd be good for you afterward.
[ He leans down to steal a kiss, humming against America's mouth before pulling away just enough to look at him as another finger eases in. He's slower this time, giving him time. ]
He has seen it before. I think I'm going to be selfish tonight if you don't mind?
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Um.. I mean.. I was serious about what I said. I trust you. Not like I didn't trust him, but.. mmph.
[ He's startled by France's assertiveness, sucking in a breath and holding it for a moment when he's teased. He releases it, steady, and flicks his gaze to meet the other blond's. ]
Just.. don't laugh at me. Like, about anything.
[ There are all sorts of insecurities that he has and keeps at bay with his typical boisterous facade; putting him in this position really does make him vulnerable to letting all those uncertainty things about himself rise to the surface. He was nervous about his body image, mostly, or appearing like someone who is weak and out of control.
France's suggestion earns a curl of his nose. ]
No, thanks. I can tell you already I don't like anything like that..
[ The kiss is appreciated with a hum followed by him chasing after France's lips. France probably feels the muscle's around that single digit relax, but he does tense up at the second finger, grimacing until he can relax again. ]
F—Fine, whatever. Everyone deserves to be selfish now and then.
[ His spine curls and his hips shift once he's used to the feeling. ]
C'mon, dude.. I'm not fragile.
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He makes a thoughtful sound acknowledging what America says, both to preference and fragility. His fingers twist, the movement less considerate to the blond's ability to sit later. Pain isn't something he has in mind when handling America; he doesn't particularly scope the younger nation as being a genuine masochist, but he does know that excess suits him.
A line of lubricant is drizzled over the underside of America's length, quickly spread over by the hand not massaging the boy's prostate. ]
If that's how you feel, fine. I'm curious which part of it you're uncomfortable with?
[ He squeezes, firmly but nothing to find anything but enjoyment from. ]
Is it being tied up or the objectification?
[ All good questions, if America wants to enjoy some kink in his sex life. He'll just patiently give the other a rather sufficient handjob while he waits. ]
I hope you're planning on staying up late, either way.
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Ah!
[ His head lulls to the side, burrowing in the pillow slightly, a vibrant red streaking over his cheeks. As the older blond continues, it become increasingly obvious he's a little overwhelmed with feeling. It isn't a bad thing, but it makes it difficult for him to conjure up a sentence in response to France right away. He's rather generous with his exclamations of "ahs" and "ohs" but finally he's able to speak, though his eyes are barely open. ]
I— hah— don't like being restricted.
[ He doesn't disagree or agree about being objectified. Truth of the matter, though, he likes the attention and being looked at. It probably doesn't bother him to be seen as just something sexy because being seen as something sexy is at least being seen as something. ]
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[ Leave it to France to complement the sounds a partner makes, but here he is speaking his mind before he has the sense to think America just might take offense to it. He presses a thumb against the underside of the blond's cock, guiding the pearly trail of pre-come back toward the tip, smiling to himself when he rolls a slicked palm directly over the flushed head.
He's not patient enough to edge the blond, so he'll go for an equally fun alternative. He knows exactly what he's doing as far as making America squirm. The younger blond is generous with how he moans and sighs; it's the only thing he can do is be generous with the multiple orgasms he wants to give. His hand slows when America forces out an answer. ]
I shouldn't be surprised by that, honestly. I won't tie you up then.
[ How reassuring. He also notes the lack of comment on being watched. Interesting. ]
Do you have any plans for the rest of your evening, America?
[ The thirst is real. So are the fingers rubbing at his companion's prostate. All the better to sweeten the notion of him staying here and being France's plaything. ]
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And I'm not the cutest.
[ Where did he get such a bratty attitude anyway? Certainly it wasn't from England, right? Right? Maybe France knew more about that, but that's absolutely a discussion neither of them are ready to have yet.
The questions goes unanswered for a moment, refusing to look France in the face, but still delivering quite the plentiful amount of moans and jagged breath. His face looks the reddest than France has probably seen it. ]
Um.. I want to spend it with you.
[ He sounds sincere, at least, even if that wasn't what France was really asking. One of his legs hooks around the other man, encouraging some leverage as he rocks into his fingers. One of his hands clenches the bedding, tugging it near his face as if to obscure himself as he continues: ]
Do you.. know how to choke someone..?
[ It might be a surprising question coming from him. ]
I've never had that.. hnn done before. But.. I know how to do it. S..So..
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