There's a flicker of amusement as Canada follows him when he pulls back, but it's oh so lovely to see him step closer as Russia urges him to his feet. He's still taller, by a little bit at least, and it takes him tipping his head for Canada to lean up and murmur in his ear.

Which of course, leads to him having to make a decision. On one hand, it would potentially take less time to find hotel, but on the other....driving home wouldn't take too long and there's the additional privacy and not having to worry about being seen or found out. So really...the option is a bit easy to choose. There's a warm look, fingers settling happily into the dip of Canada's wrist, tracing down the swell and crest of palm as Russia dips down and brushes a kiss to the shell of Canada's ear, murmurs, "Let's go home."

Which is to say, he twines their fingers together briefly, pulls back with a gentle stroke of thumb against skin and a soft possessive huff of laughter.