Canada got only one shoe off before he felt Russia's hand at his back, then he finds himself spun around and being pressed firmly up against the door, Ivan's lips pressed to his, his hands in his hair, their bodies together. He hungrily takes in the kiss giving a faint hum that might have been closer to a moan, raising his own hands to pass them through Ivan's pale hair, stroking gently.

Ivan's voice bordering on desperation, him saying his name in such a way- a sliver of dark satisfaction rises in Canada's mind. That he could drive Russia to this was somehow so ... he could hardly even think of the word for it (although 'hot' did spring to mind). If he drew it out even more, would Ivan get even more desperate for him? How far could he go?
The thought was enticing. Sex was sex and would be over quickly enough. But this...

Canada pecks a kiss to the tip of Ivan's tasting tongue and smiles as he slowly tries to shift from under him.
His voice is breathy as he asks, "let me take off your shoes?"

They had too much clothing between them as it was- coats and scarves and so on, but at least they could start with shoes before they got inside. (If they ever got past the entrance way at this rate.)