"Fuck, my pants are riding up." And that was the least of Lovino's problems. The wedgie came from sopping wet jeans, which clung unnaturally to his legs and dripped down into already soaked socks, making walking awkward and uncomfortable. Worse were how his sneakers rubbed the skin from his ankles and how his jacket had been rendered heavy but useless. By the time he and Gilbert slid into their booth, he was shivering, teeth chattering from a combination of cold that came from the late night and the dingy lights of the café. His bangs clung to his forehead, and his hair had tightened into damp curls around his ears.

Gil was not much better.

"S'what you get for shoving me into that gay-ass fountain," Gilbert muttered. Water splattered to the floor as he tried to wring out his sleeve. Lovino attempted the same, earning a quirked brow from the waitress bringing them their icecream.

She set it down with an audible sigh. It was going to be one of those nights. She'd waited until midnight for the last few stragglers to wander out, only to have the pair burst in and leave a puddle trail all the way to the back table where they sat alarmingly close to one another. She disappeared into the kitchen and hoped they wouldn't call on her again.

Lovino stabbed the side of the sundae with his straw. "You asked for it in the first place, trying to kiss me in public. People were staring." He sucked up the hot fudge coating the side of the glass, grateful for the warmth it provided but dismayed at the choice of dessert. He shouldn't have allowed Gilbert to order fucking ice cream in the first place.

"They were not."

"Were."

"So what. S'better that they know to keep their eyes off you." Gilbert's eyes met Lovi's in a challenge. He reached forward to ruffle his hair. "Hey, and look, it's an improvement. Don't know why you bother straightening your hair. It's sexier all wavy and curly and shit."

Lovi slapped his hand away. "H-hey, shut up and stop trying to change the subject." He'd moved to Gil's side of the sundae until all of the gooey chocolate was gone. "And why the hell would you get something cold? I want something warm, dammit." He squirmed as Gilbert enveloped him in his arms and dragged him into his lap.

"Yeah, well, I needed an excuse to hold you." The Prussia squeezed his torso and laid his head against his shoulder, watching Lovino poke holes into the whipped topping. "Better?"

"I guess."

"Good," Gilbert said. He reached around Lovino for the cherry but sputtered as the Italian jerked his elbow into his ribs.

"No, the cherry is mine!"

"Says who?!"

"It's slightly more on my side. It's mine," Lovino said.

"Yeah, well I bought the Sundae in the first place!" Dodging another blow, Prussia snatched the dish toward him, both straws swinging wildly and the coveted cherry rolling down the deflated mound of whipped cream. Toward Lovino.

The Italian leaned forward and plucked it free. "Ha!" He popped it into his mouth.

"Fuck you."

Lovino yanked the stem free from between clenched teeth, then carefully nibbled, spitting out the pit onto the floor. "You wish."

Gilbert glowered until Lovino poked him in the side of the head.

"Hey, bet you can't do this," Lovino said, dropping the stem onto his tongue then closing his mouth.

Gilbert watched as Lovino scowled at the table, brows knitting and lips pursed. Moments later he spat the stem out into his hand.

"What the hell…?" Gilbert said, picking up the stem to study the knot it had been wrapped into. "How the fuck did you do that?!"

Lovino glanced around the café, cheeks dusted a light red until he'd confirmed that no one was about, not even out on the streets past dulled windows. His fingertips curled into Gilbert's collar. "Yeah, you better be impressed, damn bastard, and you better take note because I'm about to show you."

Then he wrenched Gilbert forward into a kiss.