When France finds his voice again he tells England there is something they exercise far too irregularly, something that gets him hard just thinking about it.

“I’m listening,” England says. There are many things getting the frog hard just thinking about them.

“Pull out your fingers and I’ll show you.”

England pulls out his fingers. England even draws up France’s clothes.

France’s smugness comes in a white flash of teeth, and England sees that huge grin through the darkness.

He holds out the wine glass for England to take and when England does that as well, he sends his fingertips on a journey across England’s cheek and down to his throat, along the curve of his Adam’s apple. They stop there, and England swallows. Fingers press on slowly until―breath and spit caught and hold, England’s mouth falls open on a wet and guttural sound.

France’s all grin and smile, and he makes a sound like he wants to say something. In the end, he doesn’t—England knows the bastard well enough to know that, “Make sure to bring the bottle with you,” is most certainly not what lies on the tip of France’s tongue.

Then he’s gone. Out of sight and off to the bedroom.

--

tbc. Stay tuned, anons! Thank you so much for your comments!