"You want a taste, mate?" Harry arched a brow, a smug look on his face as his strawberry ice cream dripped from it's cone and down and in between his fingers. It didn't have much of a chance to travel further before his tongue was lapping gently over the pale skin of his wrist, eyes never leaving his partner's.

"You have no class," Nathan let out a disgusted sigh, leaning back in his seat and letting his attention be caught by anything else. He didn't want to make eye contact, even if Harry was wearing those obnoxious designer sunglasses that made - Nathan want to punch him square in the face - it hard to notice if they had ever really been making eye contact to begin with.

"Maybe — you were staring, love." There wasn't any sense in arguing, Nathan knew he was, he could see his reflection in the double lenses of his sunglasses. What had caught him by surprise, though, was the fact that Harry didn't seem to mind it. That he seemed almost disappointed when he had turned away.

"Okay, and what if I was? What are you gonna do about it, hm?" Possibly a dumb move, Harry was a lot bigger than he was, not just in the height department, either. Nathan had felt first hand how much muscle he had put on since the last time they had seen each other. But he was feeling brave. Nathan leaned against the table, forearm keeping his weight up as he did his best to get as into his friend's face as he possibly could, half expecting to receive a blow to the jaw.

A laugh, was what he got, and the shift of the table when Nathan applied his weight had ended up making Harry's elbow slip from the tabletop, which resulted in a nice ring of ice cream around his mouth. "Asshole," He mumbled as Nathan offered over a napkin, but quickly pushed aside his hand as he reached for it, it would be easier to just do it himself. He leaned in a bit further, offering himself some sort of leverage as he rose to his feet and wiped the evidence of the little accident from Harry's lips.

"I thought we were past the age where you wore your food, Flynn—"

"You moved the bloody table, what did I tell you about eating so many donuts, Drakey boy?"

"You know what, Flynn, I've had it with your little smartass remarks," Nathan took two fistfuls of Harry's t-shirt, pulling him out of his chair and violently slamming his back against the nearest wall. He wasn't concerned with actually harming him, he was a big boy, he could handle a little bit of pain. If Nathan didn't know any better, he would have assumed he was actually enjoying it.

"Is that so, mate? Well, go on, do something about it." Harry taunted, a smirk plastered clear as day across his face. He was enjoying it, he was enjoying every little bit of it. So much so that he had planned to make Nathan angry every chance he got.

Nathan's hands had left Harry's shirt at one point, quickly finding their way to his wrists, which were now being roughly pinned above his head. They both knew he could easily get out of this, a little shove would send him flying backwards, but…he hadn't wanted to.

"Oh, you would just love that wouldn't you? Being roughed up gets you off, doesn't it, Harry?"

"I can say the same thing about you, chum, you didn't seem to complain the last time I got you drunk."

It was a fair fight. They were both just waiting for the other to give in, for the temptation to become too much, and years and years of want and desire to finally make itself known.

Nathan wasn't that strong. It wasn't long before he had crashed their lips together, freeing Harry's wrists as his fingers went for his hair, gently tangling and tugging on the ends, each time receiving a little grunt of approval. It was a battle, both wanting to take charge of the kiss, and it ended up being a mess of saliva and teeth clanking.

The kiss didn't last as long as they had wanted it to. Their lungs had started burning, and they both had wished it wasn't necessary to breathe — they wanted nothing more to stay exactly how they were right there. Harry's arms locked tightly around Nathan's waist, and his arms draped over Harry's shoulders, in the perfect embrace. It seemed as though they were made for one another.

"Aye, Drakey? I just want you to know — I completely despise you."

"Likewise, buddy, likewise. Now shut up and kiss me."