[It is rather easy, the further along he goes with it. It could be worse, he reminds himself, he could be kissing Denmark (and if he ever had to, he'd rather suffer any consequences for punching him instead). Sweden still keeps his hands to himself, turning to try and get this smooch session over with, mentally prepping himself. He fumbles a little, awkwardly brushing against Poland's bottom lip, not sure how to smoothly cue him in on parting his lips. He'll get there eventually. Somehow.]
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