Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1295275.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Dangan_Ronpa
  Relationship:
      Ishimaru_Kiyotaka/Oowada_Mondo
  Character:
      Ishimaru_Kiyotaka, Oowada_Mondo, Oowada_Daiya
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Established_Relationship, Awkward_Sexual_Situations, Fluff,
      No_Plot/Plotless, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Series:
      Part 2 of Optimism
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-03-10 Words: 5743
****** Supervision ******
by tastewithouttalent
Summary
     "An enclosed space, with or without someone else there, sounds like
     heaven, and when Mondo tips his chin down and grins up past his hair
     at the prefect Ishimaru can’t even muster up the will to want to
     refuse, much less do so." Daiya does a spectacularly bad job of
     chaperoning Ishimaru and Mondo after school.
“Are you sure this is acceptable?”
It’s at least the fifth time Ishimaru has asked. It’s not a long walk from the
school campus to the apartment Mondo shares with his brother, but the prefect
is right up on the verge of full-blown panic, and the comfort he gains from the
other’s reassurance only lasts for a minute or two before he needs more.
Mondo looks at him sideways and heaves a resigned sigh. “Like I’ve been saying.
It’s not a problem with me and Daiya doesn’t care. He’s been saying he wants to
see more of you, even. And your parents know he’s gonna be there and that makes
it all okay, right?”
“Mm.” It’s not all okay, not quite, and Ishimaru knows exactly what the issue
is. He is certain that when he says, ‘his brother will be there’ his parents
hear ‘chaperone,’ and while he is personally fond of Daiya, Mondo’s older
brother is spectacularly unfit for anything like chaperoning. But. He never
specified himself, and his parents didn’t ask, and Mondo’s hands have been
venturing farther and farther in the afterschool interludes until it’s nearly
impossible for Ishimaru to convince himself that they should stop. An enclosed
space, with or without someone else there, sounds like heaven, and when Mondo
tips his chin down and grins up past his hair at the prefect Ishimaru can’t
even muster up the will to want to refuse, much less do so.
“Ishi.” Mondo has veered in closer as they’ve been walking without Ishimaru
noticing. Now he carefully settles an arm around the smaller boy’s shoulders;
it weighs Ishimaru down oddly, but the weight is comforting, and it pulls him
in close so he can feel Mondo’s body radiating heat and their hips bump
together on every off-step. “Calm down. It’s fine, yeah?” The other boy’s hand
comes up to ruffle through his hair and Ishimaru smiles without meaning to. “We
won’t do anything you don’t want to, I promise.”
The promise is perfectly sincere; Ishimaru can hear the solidity of the truth
under the other boy’s tone. He knows, anyway, even without hearing it. Mondo
never breaks his promises.
“I know we won’t.” Ishimaru says aloud. He keeps his eyes fixed ahead and his
back straight, even though he wants to curl his shoulders forward and tip his
head down to hide the flush that creeps up his cheeks. “I do want to do
something.”
He doesn’t specify. He’s not sure he could specify if pressed. It’s not that he
has some grand complex fantasy worked out in his head; even when he’s alone at
home, his thoughts rarely get anywhere beyond the generic of a larger hand
stroking over his length in place of his own, the pant of Mondo’s breath
against his neck and a knee pressed sharp against his leg. There’s some
confusion of friction and heat and damp in his memories and fantasies tangled
together and that’s usually enough to bring him over the edge when he’s on his
own. Sometimes he thinks it’ll be enough just with Mondo touching him after
school, with the other boy’s fingers sliding down the too-tight front of his
pants and the other boy’s erection pressed in against Ishimaru’s half-covered
stomach, but it hasn’t yet, which seems like a good thing afterwards but just
frustrating during. It doesn’t matter, at this point, what they do exactly, but
Ishimaru is perfectly clear that he wants it, whatever it is.
Mondo takes a sharp breath at his declaration, and his head tips in so their
hair catches together and his breath is warm on Ishimaru’s cheek. The prefect
thinks Mondo might be able to kiss him, but the contact doesn’t quite
materialize; there’s just an audible swallow, and Mondo muttering, “Me too,”
like he’s confessing a secret. When Ishimaru looks at him the other boy is
blushing harder than he is himself, and when Mondo coughs and adjusts his pants
the prefect looks away and smiles down the road in front of them.
Daiya has the front door open before they arrive, letting the cool outside air
into the house even though it has to be drafty. “Hey kids!” The call comes from
the kitchen as they come in the front door. The older man pokes his head around
the corner and offers them both a grin. “How’s school?”
“Classes went well,” Ishimaru declares. “Mondo did not attend his, however.”
“Ah well.” Daiya disappears from view. There’s no indication in his tone that
he is either concerned or surprised by this revelation. “We all know he’s only
got one reason to be around the campus anyway.”
“Daiya!” Mondo pronounces his brother’s name as a strangled shriek, and when
Ishimaru looks at him the larger boy is blushing furiously. He gets the strong
sense that he’s missing some established joke; this sense is only compounded
when Daiya shouts, “Oh, and I picked up those things you wanted, bro. They’re
in your room in your desk drawer.”
“We’re leaving!” Mondo shouts back. “Bye, don’t interrupt us!” He’s storming
down the hall to his room, dragging Ishimaru behind him, even before Daiya
calls back, “I’ll be very busy and distracted for at least two hours!”
Ishimaru doesn’t think to protest until Mondo has shut his bedroom door with
more force than is strictly needed, and even then the best he can manage is,
“Shouldn’t we leave the door open?”
Mondo is still red with embarrassment and glaring like his irritation can make
it through the door and to the kitchen, but when he looks at Ishimaru his flush
deepens and the irritation fades off.
“Do you want Daiya to see me jerk you off?”
“Ah,” Ishimaru says as all the coherency in his brain scatters under that
mental image. “Ah. No. Uh. Are -- you going to?”
“I really want to,” Mondo says. He’s not moved from the door, though he’s
dropped his hold on Ishimaru’s hand, and they’re in Mondo’s bedroom, and the
prefect has never been here before but he can’t manage to interest himself in
anything other than his boyfriend’s face. Mondo is looking at Ishimaru’s hand,
specifically the edge of his sleeve, rather than his face, and really this
would all look like rejection if it weren’t for the shake of desperate
sincerity under his words.
“Ah,” Ishimaru stutters again. “Good. That’s good. I.”
Mondo’s chin comes up, just a little, and his eyes catch on Ishimaru’s. They’re
shadowed under his lashes and oddly dark like they sometimes get when the two
of them are under the school bleachers, and the prefect says, “I want you to
too,” and steps across the space to crush his mouth against Mondo’s.
His hands come up to hold the other boy’s head steady, and his mouth is open
before he means for it to be and he’s not sure what he’s doing, exactly, just
that there is the scrape of teeth and a push of tongues and everything
is sensation, heat and pressure and the edge of pain when his lip catches
wrong. Mondo’s hair is in his face and tangling in his eyelashes until Ishimaru
doesn’t dare open his eyes, but he doesn’t really need to see anyway. He’s
barely able to keep track of his balance at the moment and he has no idea where
his hands are; when his mouth hums with sound he realizes he’s groaning, and
when Mondo’s fingers hit skin he jumps in surprise -- when did his shirt come
loose? -- but doesn’t pull away.
His blood is flaring hot but his lungs are starting to ache too, and finally he
has to pull back to gulp air until his head stops spinning.
“Fuck, Ishi,” Mondo says. He’s leaning in even as Ishimaru pulls away, so close
the prefect can’t make out his features clearly, just the sparkle of purple
eyes and a smudge of thick lashes over his cheek. “Breathe through your nose,
you don’t need to suffocate while kissing me.”
His voice is purrs low over the words, and when his lips curl over the word
‘kissing’ Ishimaru whines and dips back in under Mondo’s hair to cover the
other boy’s mouth with his again before he has quite caught his breath. He does
try breathing through his nose, and it helps when he remembers to inhale, but
he still has to remember and it’s hard to think about anything when Mondo’s
tongue is trailing over the roof of his mouth. There are hands coming up
Ishimaru’s back, fingers scraping along the dip of his spine and over his
ribcage, and Mondo wears way too many clothes for all that they’re loose.
Ishimaru can’t find skin, at least not consistently -- there’s the brush of an
elbow or the hint of collarbone under his hands but then Mondo moves and
they’re gone, leaving just the tantalizing promise of resistance against
Ishimaru’s body. The prefect finally settles for fisting his hands in the heavy
weight of the other boy’s jacket and pulling himself in close by that hold
until they’re both leaned back against the door.
Mondo tips backward until his shoulders hit the door, and for a moment
Ishimaru’s entire body is pressed up against the other boy’s so he can feel the
outline of chest and hip and leg through the other’s clothes. Then Mondo laughs
and pulls away, and Ishimaru reflexively tips his head back in response before
he thinks it through.
“What?” he blurts as soon as their mouths are apart. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Mondo says quickly, and the fingers against Ishimaru’s back stroke
down in comfort. “D’you want to move?” He nods over the prefect’s shoulder and
Ishimaru actually has to turn and look before he understands what Mondo is
getting at.
“Oh. Uh.”
“It’ll be more comfortable,” Mondo points out. He’s not backing Ishimaru up;
he’s not even leaning up from the door, just lounging against it, but the lean
of his back makes Ishimaru’s breath stutter and his mind scramble for something
he can’t even quite imagine.
“Yeah,” he says, quick, before panic can override the heat under his skin,
and then Mondo comes up off the door and into his personal space so Ishimaru
takes a stumbling step backward just to catch his balance.
“Good,” he purrs, and then he’s leaning in close to press his mouth to the skin
just over Ishimaru’s collar, and the prefect sucks in a breath of shocked
pleasure and they’re both going back, half-falling and half-walking until
Ishimaru’s leg catches up hard on the edge of the mattress and his weight falls
back onto the bed. There’s a breath of instinctive panic as he falls but the
bed is soft enough that the impact doesn’t hurt, and as he’s coming up on his
elbows Mondo is shrugging his arms out of the sleeves of his coat. His knee
comes down on one side of Ishimaru’s body and he’s leaning in and there’s
suddenly so much skin, just arms and shoulders and a thin white shirt, and the
prefect’s hands are against the other’s back and clinging to the shirt so he
can pull Mondo down into another kiss before he thinks.
Mondo laughs and tips his head to better fit their mouths together, and
Ishimaru tries to remember to breathe as his thoughts fracture apart into heat
and moisture and want. This time when Mondo pulls back his hands are freeing
the last of the buttons on Ishimaru’s jacket, and when he pushes against the
prefect’s shoulder the smaller boy sits up so together they can get his jacket
off. Ishimaru’s fingers are faster on the buttons of his shirt than Mondo’s for
all that they’re trembling with adrenaline, and Mondo’s pushing the cloth off
his shoulders even before he is quite done unfastening the front. Mondo’s shirt
is still on but it’s thin and rides up easily when Ishimaru pushes at the hem,
and then Mondo tips them back to the bed and the press of bare skin against
Ishimaru’s chest and stomach makes the prefect’s breath rush away in startled
delight.
“God,” Mondo sighs against Ishimaru’s mouth. His fingers come up to trace
gently up along the other boy’s bare skin and Ishimaru hisses and arches up
against the contact, shoves hard against the other boy’s shirt until Mondo
laughs and pulls away long enough for Ishimaru to tug the fabric off his head.
Then there’s just skin, shifting muscle and radiating heat right there, under
Ishimaru’s hands, and it’s more than he imagined but it’s easy too, just skin
like his own but intriguingly different, more muscle and unfamiliar scars under
his fingers. When his hands come sideways Mondo hisses and Ishimaru can feel
him tense in reaction, and the prefect laughs in delighted surprise without
thinking of it. Mondo smiles against Ishimaru’s skin and his weight shifts over
the other boy, giving the prefect a breath of warning before his fingers press
gently into the front of the other’s white pants.
It’s not that Ishimaru had forgotten the final destination, exactly, but
he did get distracted with the pleasure of the journey, and when Mondo’s hand
comes down right where he wants it he groans much louder than he intended as he
rocks up into the contact. Embarrassed memory of Daiya in the other room pulls
self-conscious chill over the fever in his blood and he drops a hand from
Mondo’s skin to clap it over his mouth. The other boy is blushing hard, and his
laugh is shaky with shyness, but he presses harder and leans down to kiss
Ishimaru’s jawline, and the prefect bites back his responsive sound as much as
he can but arches up hard into the touch.
“Um.” Mondo sounds nervous although Ishimaru can’t see his face from his angle.
“Ishi, can I…?” His fingers come up to dip over the edge of Ishimaru’s pants to
ask the question for him, and the other boy is nodding even though he’s
starting to shake with half-panicked anticipation. When Mondo pulls away to
look down at what he’s doing Ishimaru lets his hand come away from his mouth,
and after a moment he comes up to sit upright and reaches for the laces of his
boot. Usually he unlaces them all the way down but there’s no time for that
right now, and the first few inches are enough for him to wiggle his foot free.
That takes longer than he would like, though, and by the time he has one boot
off Mondo’s got the white pants open and is sitting back and grinning at him.
“Your clothes are so complicated,” he observes as Ishimaru sets the first boot
down and starts in on the second.
“I’m sorry,” Ishimaru starts, cheeks going darker, but Mondo leans in to
breathe warm against his neck and fits his hand against the other boy’s
stomach.
“It’s fine,” he purrs, and his fingers come down so Ishimaru’s hands stumble
over the familiar laces of his boots and he struggles to recall what he’s
doing. “Just lets me distract you.”
Ishimaru chokes on a laughing protest. In the end it takes him twice as long to
unlace his second boot half as far as he did the first, and Mondo eventually
growls into his skin and comes down to tug hard at the heel until it comes
free. The other boy kicks his boots off in a matter of seconds as he’s reaching
for the waist of Ishimaru’s pants, and after a moment of tugging the prefect
catches on to what the other boy wants and lifts his weight off the bed enough
that Mondo can slide his pants free. Then his boots and shirt and pants are
gone and he’s just in his boxers on Mondo’s bed, and they are not doing a good
job of covering anything, really, and self-consciousness hits so hard Ishimaru
can feel the heat of his blush all down his chest and shoulders as his eyes
start to well up with irrepressible tears.
Mondo looks up at his face and pauses, his fingers brushing gentle against the
other boy’s collarbone. “You okay?”
Ishimaru nods violently, not sure he can trust his voice to speak. His skin is
flushing with heat and want and it feels like all the sensation in his body is
centering under the other boy’s fingertips, and his eyes are starting to
overflow across his cheeks but he manages a smile anyway.
Mondo smiles in echoing response. “This that thing again?” He waves his free
hand as if the movement will explain for him. “Where you just cry about
everything?”
Ishimaru nods again and brings a hand up to swipe at his cheeks. “Yes. I’m
fine, really.”
“Okay.” Mondo leans in to kiss the other boy, a momentary brush of his mouth
against Ishimaru’s that makes the prefect suck in a sharp breath and lean in to
trail the larger boy as he pulls back. “Tell me if you’re not?”
“Okay,” Ishimaru agrees, and when Mondo pushes gently against his shoulder he
goes back to lie across the bed. His heart is hammering in his chest and his
breath is coming so fast he can’t discern any rhythm at all anymore, but Mondo
is looking down at him and the other boy’s mouth is open like he’s forgotten
how to speak, and his fingers are dragging down over Ishimaru’s chest and
stomach and hip and there, pressure so light against the thin fabric stretched
across the prefect’s erection that Ishimaru hisses and rocks up for more.
Mondo laughs surprised and breathy and pushes down harder, just pressure but
Ishimaru can feel his fingers separate and curling against him and the
prefect’s throat closes up around another too-loud reaction. The other boy
glances up at his face; his smile touches down gentle in his eyes, and he lifts
the elastic edge of Ishimaru’s boxers and pulls down, and when he touches his
fingers directly to the other boy’s length Ishimaru doesn’t even remember to be
self-conscious about being effectively naked for the first time in front of the
other boy.
Mondo’s eyes are jumping back and forth from the movement of his hand over
Ishimaru’s erection to the other boy’s face, like he can’t decide which is more
intriguing, and Ishimaru’s vision keeps blurring with overheated tears but his
body is shaking with flushing pleasure and the stunned delight in Mondo’s face
is something he’s going to be thinking about for weeks.
“Mondo,” he says just as the other boy licks his lips and says, “Ishi.” They
both go quiet in deference to the other, and then Ishimaru blinks and swallows
and says, “Yes, what is it?”
It sounds oddly formal -- usually Mondo would tease him for it but the other
boy just looks at his face and swallows and says, “Can I...can I try…”
He stalls out, and the movement of his hand is slowing, so when Ishimaru says,
“What do you want to try?” the words sound more desperate than he intends.
Mondo looks away from his eyes and blushes scarlet, and when he speaks his
voice has taken on the rough edge Ishimaru is starting to recognize as
defensive. “Uh. Daiya picked up some stuff for us, if you want to try it out.”
“What did he pick up?” Ishimaru’s mind is entirely blank of possibilities,
though that might just be the incoming waves of sensation radiating out from
Mondo’s still too-slow touch on him.
Mondo still doesn’t look at him, and his free hand comes up to ruffle nervously
through the longer hair against the back of his neck. “Condoms,” he finally
says, quick and anxious. “And lube. Uh. Just in case.” He is going darker as
Ishimaru watches, his words coming faster and harder as he talks. “Not that we
have to. Or anything. It’s just I…”
“Yes.” Ishimaru is surprised at how loud the word comes. “Yes. Have you ever…”
“No.” Mondo looks up at him and his eyes are wide and nervous; he’s still
blushing red, but he manages a grin at the other. “I haven’t. Have you?”
Ishimaru shakes his head, but his mind is spiraling out into possibilities and
he’s starting to breathe faster even as his eyes decide to overflow with
another wave of tears. “I am glad you are well-prepared, Mondo.”
Mondo laughs, genuine even if it’s strained with nerves. “I knew you’d say
that.” He lets go of Ishimaru’s cock and turns away to the desk in the corner
of the room while the prefect sits up and, after a moment of hesitation, slides
his boxers down off his hips and to the floor with the rest of his clothes.
He’s coming down off the edge of desperate want to frightened nerves, now, but
his mind is wondering about the possibilities, the actual application of the
things he’s read about and half-considered, and even by the time Mondo has come
back with a box and a bottle Ishimaru is still so hard that he is flushed with
the embarrassment of his evident interest.
“So.” Mondo comes back to sit next to him, but his hands are shaking visibly
even with their burden, and his voice is starting to shake too. “One of us has
to…” He swallows hard, blushing until he has to look away from Ishimaru’s face.
“Uh. Bottom. I guess, is what the term is.”
“I will,” Ishimaru says quickly. He suspects his information is from a
different source than Mondo’s, but he’s spent some time considering it, in the
vague unformed fantasies of his mind. “Please. Do you know what we need to do
beforehand?”
“Yeah,” Mondo mutters, dipping his head so his face is covered by his hair. “I
think so.”
“Okay.” Ishimaru takes a breath and leans back onto the mattress. He kind of
want to watches Mondo but if he’s looking at the other boy he remembers that
Mondo is looking at him too, so it’s easier to stare at the ceiling. “Let’s try
it.” He hesitates, then takes a steadying breath and shifts his legs apart and
his hips slightly up.
Mondo takes an audible breath, but he doesn’t say anything so the sound of him
getting the bottle of lube open is irrationally loud. Ishimaru is breathing
hard and he can feel his heart pounding fast with adrenaline, the anticipation
so tense that it’s a relief more than anything else when Mondo’s fingers brush
against the inside of his legs. They’re cold and slippery, leave a path of
chill up along Ishimaru’s overheated skin, and then a fingertip touches against
his entrance and suddenly the other boy can’t breathe at all.
At least Mondo doesn’t hesitate. Ishimaru is pretty certain that he’d expire
from panic if the other boy waited at all, but he’s barely had time to
recognize where Mondo’s hand is when there’s a finger sliding inside him and
he’s too busy processing the sensation to be panicked. It’s weird, mostly,
though it’s a little hard to relax enough to breathe, and his whole body goes
tense in shock.
Mondo goes utterly still and blurts, “Are you okay?” with more panic in his
voice than Ishimaru is feeling right now.
“Yes,” the prefect says quickly. “It is strange but it doesn’t hurt.”
“Okay.” Mondo sounds relieved, but he doesn’t keep moving until Ishimaru says,
“You can keep going.”
“Oh!” Mondo sounds as surprised as if he has entirely forgotten what they are
doing. His finger pushes in farther and Ishimaru has to suck in a shocked
breath and consciously relax because he’s pretty sure that was something you’re
supposed to do. Mondo takes another startled breath, and he says, “Fuck, Ishi,
you’re burning hot inside,” and the preposition plugs into some rarely-used
part of the prefect’s brain and makes him moan in response. Mondo’s hand jerks
and he pushes in farther, and it’s feeling okay, now; it’s still weird but now
Ishimaru’s mind is considering that Mondo is actually inside his body and it’s
flushing pleasant heat all over his skin. Then the other boy’s hand moves, a
twist or a press or something, and there’s a responsive wave of sensation that
makes Ishimaru gasp and rock up.
Mondo goes perfectly still, gasps, “Oh my god, are you okay?” which is the last
thing Ishimaru wants, actually.
“I’m fine,” he says a bit more sharply than he intends. “That was good, do that
again, you were --” and then Mondo does, curls his finger and it just
brushes something and Ishimaru rocks up desperately into the touch as one hand
comes down to wrap around his erection involuntarily.
“That feels really good,” he gasps. “Go down, just a little, you’re --” and
then his words drown under a broken groan as Mondo obeys and pleasure pours
white-hot over his senses.
“Ishi?” Mondo’s voice is asking, and Ishimaru is rocking up against that touch
for more of that sensation. He thinks he says, “Good, that’s it, right there,”
but he’s not sure; at any rate Mondo does, pushes in harder so Ishimaru
whimpers and arches on the mattress under his touch. Then he’s pulling away,
sliding his finger free, and Ishimaru tries to collect his thoughts to protest.
He’s not found enough coherent words before Mondo’s pressing back into him, and
for a moment there’s just pressure and almost-pain. Then he realizes that
that’s a second finger alongside the first, and deliberately takes a breath and
relaxes, and Mondo’s fingers come back inside him, faster this time than the
first. Ishimaru can feel the stretch but it’s not as strange, and after a
moment of fumbling Mondo finds that same spot again and presses two fingers
against it. Ishimaru is more ready, this time, which is to say he has his free
hand up over his mouth to catch the worst of the whining moan he makes in
response. Mondo laughs, and Ishimaru wants to see his face but he can’t bring
his eyes into focus off the ceiling, can’t think of much other than bucking up
for more contact with the other boy’s fingers.
It takes a minute for Mondo to set up any kind of a rhythm; the first time he
draws his fingers back and pushes back in he misses his goal. The second time
he hits it but Ishimaru jerks so hard at the sensation that he loses contact
and has to try again. But after a minute of failed attempts he starts catching
the sensitive area with every movement, and Ishimaru can feel himself relaxing
around the intrusion until he wants more, until when Mondo slides his hand
entirely free it’s hard to not protest.
He takes his hand away from his mouth, tries to catch his breath, and as Mondo
stands up to shed his pants Ishimaru lets his hold on his erection go, sits up
on the bed and tries to not blush at the tears patterning his cheeks or the
sweat beading across his skin. He is aching for more, so much that when the
other boy slides his pants and underwear free at once he feels desperate rather
than shy at the first proper sight of the other’s hard cock.
“Okay,” Mondo says, and Ishimaru realizes his hands are shaking and his eyes
are wide with nerves. “I think...I’m supposed to use a condom.”
“Yes,” Ishimaru agrees, although it’s a struggle to recall what he has read.
“Let me…” He tears the box still next to him open with less dignity than speed
and fishes out a long string of wrapped condoms. The box falls to the floor,
shortly followed by the rest of the string as Ishimaru gets one separated. He’s
tried these before himself, just to gain a little experience, so even though
he’s flushing he gets the wrapper open without too much trouble, and when he
looks back at Mondo the other boy is blushing but standing close enough that
the prefect can just reach out to fit the condom over his erection. The slick
latex slips and Ishimaru almost drops it, but Mondo laughs nervously and that
makes the prefect laugh too before going back to what he’s doing with slightly
more patience.
“I can’t believe we’re about to do this,” Mondo says shakily as Ishimaru works
the condom down over his cock, inadvertently comparing how his fingers fit
around the other boy’s length as compared to his own.
“Do you want to?” Ishimaru asks, glancing up the other’s body. Mondo is looking
down at him with his lip caught between his teeth and what is becoming a
permanent blush high on his cheeks, but at the question his mouth curves into a
grin.
“Do I want to.” Ishimaru’s fingers hit the base of his cock and he hisses at
the contact. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since that first time I kissed you.”
Ishimaru drops his hands and Mondo reaches out for the lube again. “Well.” He
looks away from the prefect’s face and his blush deepens. “Before that,
actually. But that was when it became a regular fantasy.”
“Oh.” Ishimaru blushes straight up to his hairline. He’s relieved that Mondo is
looking down at himself while he slicks lube over his length, though it looks
like the other is flushing as hard as he is. “I...really?”
Mondo glances up at him and flashes that sheepish grin again. “Really.” He sets
the bottle aside with more care than the action requires and comes down to rest
his knee on the bed alongside Ishimaru’s. The prefect frowns and shifts his leg
to the outside of Mondo’s before looking back up at the other’s face.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he goes on, carefully setting his other knee
on the mattress, inside Ishimaru’s leg this time so the prefect’s knees are
spread wide around Mondo’s hips. “It’s that I’ve been thinking about it for so
long that it’s -- hard to believe.” He’s back to not looking at Ishimaru’s
face; right now his eyes are locked onto the prefect’s collarbone while he
settles one hand just over the other’s shoulder and reaches down between them
with his other. “Are you ready?”
It should be a harder question to answer, but there’s not even a flicker of
hesitation in Ishimaru’s mind before he says, “Yes.”
Mondo glances at him, starts to smile, and looks down to where his hand is
fitting his erection up against Ishimaru’s entrance. Ishimaru has a moment to
feel the width of the other boy against him, wider than his fingers but
slippery with lube; then Mondo’s shaking hand comes against his hip to hold him
steady, and he’s pushing forward and inside Ishimaru. The prefect tries to arch
up and relax at the same time, and he makes a strange whimper-moan in the back
of his throat that Mondo entirely drowns out with his own hissing groan.
“Oh fuck Ishi,” he gasps. Ishimaru can feel the hand over his shoulder making a
fist in the sheets and the one at his hip gripping convulsively tight, and then
Mondo takes a breath and stops and says, “Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”
He almost is; he’s wider than even two fingers were, and Ishimaru’s whole body
is trying to tense around the intrusion while he tries to make himself relax,
but Mondo’s also shy of that sensitive point still, and what the prefect says
is “More, Mondo.”
Mondo chokes a laugh and thrusts forward deeper. The pressure skims over the
nerve endings pleading for more and Ishimaru moans and rocks up and that is
almost too much; when he moves he can feel Mondo inside him and not moving in
time with the rest of his body, and he drops back flat onto the bed not sure if
he wants to do more or less of that.
“Ishi?” Mondo’s voice is shaking and his breath is hot and fast against the
other boy’s shoulder. “I’m...I’m gonna move, okay?”
“Okay,” Ishimaru manages, and Mondo slides away and then too-slowly forward,
but this time his angle is higher and he hits exactly where the other boy wants
him so Ishimaru moans far too loudly before he can catch back the sound.
“Oh fuck,” Mondo says, and Ishimaru says, “Touch me, Mondo,” and the other boy
is as quick to respond to that as anything else. His fingers close around
Ishimaru’s cock and the prefect rocks up into the contact, and this time the
movement grinds friction against that perfect point and takes all the breath
from Ishimaru’s lungs.
Mondo slides his fingers up along Ishimaru’s length, and rocks back and thrusts
forward, and the prefect’s hands come up to clutch at the other boy’s shoulder
and waist as the last shreds of self-consciousness holding back the sound
pooling in his throat shred away. Mondo is panting against his shoulder and
thrusting forward into him and his fingers are stroking against Ishimaru’s
length, and the prefect is wailing in time with the movement of the other boy
and his eyes are overflowing with the excess of sensation all through his skin,
and the world is starting to fracture apart into raw pleasure.
By the time his orgasm hits Ishimaru isn’t entirely sure what it is that pushes
him over the edge; his self-awareness is drowning in sensation and his
breathing has melded with the sound of Mondo’s until Ishimaru can’t tell where
the line between them lies. He’s gasping for air around moans when he comes
back into himself with Mondo’s fingers pulling the last of his orgasm from him,
and the other boy is trembling over and against him so Ishimaru isn’t surprised
when Mondo tenses and whimpers into his shoulder and shudders with his own
climax.
Mondo lets his weight come down on his shoulder on the mattress rather than
dropping down over Ishimaru; after a moment he takes a breath and slides
himself free, though he reaches out to drape his arm over the prefect’s
shoulders, careful to keep his sticky fingers away from the other boy’s hair.
Ishimaru tips his face towards Mondo and blinks at him; the other boy’s eyes
are shut, his eyelashes dark over his skin, but he’s smiling soft even when his
eyes shut, and when Ishimaru reaches out to touch his hip, the smile widens,
and the prefect echoes the expression.
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