uhhh
here's the ishimondo thing,,
The way his arms were pinned above his head, his lower half weighed down by Mondo's straddling legs, seemingly exposed Ishimaru's godlike body in the most spectacular way.
Mondo often finds himself distracted by the hall monitor's torso, his legs, his back, his arms – Hell, everything about Ishimaru was entrancing, hypnotizing, and even erotic at times.
And now that he was bare, his milky skin pressing against Mondo's own darker tones, Mondo could admire him at a close, personal proximity.
"What are you staring for?" He heard Ishimaru ask impatiently, a beet red blush spread over his face. "Get on with it, Mondo."
"Nah, hold on." Mondo muttered, moving his hands away from Ishimaru's wrists and onto the other's body, gently moving his hands down every curve, dip, and every other shape-based adjective Mondo couldn't think of in the moment that belonged to his paramour.
"Mondo, we'll be late if you don't hurry!" Ishimaru reminded, his voice strained. He wriggled beneath Mondo, which sent shivers of pleasure through both of them as their erections brushed and rubbed against each other.
"All right, all right, I'll be fast."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"