You see Mexico, outside grilling Carne Asada in his backyard. He was wearing his usual sombrero of course, it was very hot outside, his white muscular bod, as the eagle-eyed Mexico stared back at you at the window, from where you tried to hide yourself from the covers Mexico smirks "I see you staring at the window over there, neighbor. Que pasa?" You try your best to peer but can't due to the overwhelming embarrassment "Care to try some Carne Asada?" Mexico says, warming up the tortillas, smirking as he does. You know his food is good already, the heavenly smell was enough to drive you into his backyard