All aboard the poorly-written smut train! Woo woo. 1 instance of homophobic slur in this chapter.

The kettle interrupted Ishimaru's Harvard anecdote with its reedy wail, and Mondo grabbed it hastily, nearly sloshing boiling water all over himself as he filled up the two chipped mugs.

"This place is... well, it hasn't changed a bit." Ishimaru observed, sat at what passed for the Oowada household's kitchen table. "But where's Chuck? He was just a puppy - aw jeez, he didn't check out, did he?"
"Not in that sense." Mondo placed the steaming mugs down. Tea at midnight felt a little surreal, but so did this entire evening. "Dad took 'im when he fucked off to wherever he went. That's what got me the maddest, ya know? The old man was a germ, but I loved that dog."
"Ain't that a bite." Ishimaru said glumly. "At least your brother's still around. Hey, I thought he was getting married? What happened?"
"Ha!" Mondo slapped the table and chortled heartily. "Aw man, you shoulda seen it. She only left 'im at the altar! I remember it word for word, I tell ya." He began to speak in a squeaky falsetto of a strong New York accent. "'Daiya Oowada, I cain't believe I ever thought I'd settle for a no-good no-prospects biker bum like you!' And she walked right off! Guess she saw him in that two-dollar suit we fished out from dad's shit and just realised she could do better. Damn right. Aw, I can't believe I never told you that one. ...Though I guess that was... when we weren't speakin'."
He sipped. There was a silence.

"Do you wanna start again?" Mondo said suddenly. "Just pretend we never fucked it up?"
He turned in his seat and gripped Ishimaru's shoulders, voice low. He knew he was talking crazy and could ruin everything, but honestly, what did he stand to lose?
Ishimaru blinked and swallowed, bright eyes meeting Mondo's in uncertainty before he hesitantly replied. "Just... pick up where we left off, like? Things've changed. I... We've changed. Three years we never spoke. What's to say you don't like the new me?"
"New you?" What could be new? Ishimaru was a constant.
"I'm more political now, and less... I'm taller." Ishimaru changed his own tack rather feebly. "I learned new things and I lost some of my vigor. I don't know if I'm still the same person you - fell in love with."
Mondo furrowed his brow. "I ain't good at gettin' philosophical. Ain't got the jets. But, Kiyotaka... you are still the same person. Who else'd come waltzin' back into this shithole city with a sweatervest and a grin? And I changed too. Maybe not so much; haven't had myself edumacated and gained enlightenment or whatever the fuck they teach you up there. Still a stupid bundie with a motorcycle, still got no smarts and no dreams. But... I loved you so much. You was the best thing that ever happened to me. If we can get that back - even if it doesn't work, we can just try-"
"I wanna kiss you," Ishimaru interrupted, almost distractedly.
"Wh-"

And then he was being kissed, hard and gentle, for the first time in three years. Not counting that drunk girl with her shirt off at Daiya's bachelor do. Only this really counted, only this felt real in that way; needing to get closer, needing to get more connected.
He gripped Ishimaru's sleeves hard and they stood up together, chairs clattering, wrapped at the waist. Warm hands left sweat patches on his leather jacket, and they broke apart. Mondo stared wildly around the room. It didn't feel real, almost, this thing, even though it had been his life to idly kiss this man once, but now it was heart-pounding, brain-scrambling, real wild shit. Here, in his kitchen, this sin.

"You wanna-" He indicated behind him and a thought came out of nowhere, causing him to bark a startled laugh against Ishimaru's mouth. Always did want to fuck him into the couch just to spite Daiya. Here was a chance.
"Baby, sure," said Ishimaru, breathless. Mondo kept laughing even as he pulled him tighter, onto his lap as he collapsed onto the creaking pleather.Baby. How surreal was this shit? What kind of fucking fags - but no, now wasn't the time for that doubting and hating himself. Now he could just put that shit aside and relive this. This gentle, serious boy sat astride his lap, making his pants tight. This stupid motherfucker in his sweatervest with a determined expression as he worked Mondo's shirt over his head, messing up his 'do.
Mondo put out a sweaty arm around Ishimaru's neck and pulled him tight, the other boy kissing breathlessly at his shoulders and chest. Then an elbow went in his eye, he made a "Gurk!" noise, and things became decidedly unsexy as they fell off the couch in a tangle of half-dressed limbs.

Ishimaru picked himself up and stared down at Mondo on the floor, who was rubbing his eye and wincing. "Is this... Could we not take this to a bed?" he asked sheepishly.
"Ugh... If you think this couch is a heap of shit just wait 'til you see my room, sweetcheeks." Besides, the letter was still in that drawer, and he wasn't sure he wanted those two opposing emotions so close to each other.

"Okay, well, logistically, let's... Gosh, do you even have any lubricant?"
"You really know how to get a dude's motor runnin' with all this bedroom talk. Lubricant. Intercourse."
"Well, do you? I ain't just... I mean, I gotta go back to the girls in the morning; don't wanna be limping around. Tell the whole world."
Mondo laughed hoarsely. "I think they'll probably guess what went on anyways when you come crawlin' back."
"We can at least spare them the grisly details. It's different among women. All soft and... delicate... none of this grunty business." Seeing Mondo's raised eyebrow, he hurriedly blurted "I - I imagine, at least!"
Mondo screwed his eyes shut. "Lemme just... check. Jesus. I don't wanna be thinkin' about Sakura and Aoi gettin' it on. Weird shit, man. They're our friends."

He ran upstairs double-time and rummaged around in Daiya's bathroom cupboard, retrieving a stomach-turningly grimy little bottle then running downstairs with it held between finger and thumb. "Now I don't even wanna know how many nasty ass broads this has been around, so let's use it efficiently."
Ishimaru's pale skin grew red as Mondo unscrewed the bottle and retrieved a glob. He began fiddling with his fly and Mondo drew him close. "Let me do that. C'mon. I know I'm no Casanova but... let me try to make this good for ya."

His ex-boyfriend lay down on the couch passively, chest rising and falling slowly, big eyes locked into Mondo's as he crawled over and straddled Ishimaru. Tugging down the other man's trousers, Mondo smiled slightly at what he found. He unzipped his own fly and tugged himself out, half-mast already.
"Hi there, big boy," Ishimaru breathed headily, making Mondo burst into a fit of brief, inward giggles that he attempted to disguise as coughs. When would this dude learn he couldn't dirty-talk for shit? Choosing not to respond, he pushed their cocks together, making Ishimaru's breath hitch in a light gasp. A brief session of pushing and pulling later, and Ishimaru was straining at him. Mondo pressed down his hands over Ishimaru's, making the other boy lie still, and kissed him, long and soft.
Their mouths pulled apart with a wet noise. "C'mon," whined Ishimaru. "Come on, don't make me wait."
"You sure, babe?"
"'Course I'm sure!" There was that stubborn, captain-of-the-debate-team streak, and Mondo smiled fondly. He wasn't much of a one for role-play and all of that - seemed like too much work for fun's sake - but getting a rise out of Ishimaru was always tempting.
"You want all of this?"
"Yes! God!"
"'Cause I'm gonna give it to ya."

He fumbled below, finding a grasp on the TV remote - that's where the damn thing was! - before cupping a hand each around Ishimaru's firm buttocks and positioning himself. Back in the day they'd been slow and shy (the first time, one finger, then two, and then both got too embarrassed to take it any further so they called it a day.) But there'd been a lot of times since then. Even in the three-year gap... it wasn't like he hadn't lain alone with his fist and envisioned this again. They knew what they were doing.
A muffled groan came from Ishimaru as Mondo pushed himself in slow and tight. God, nothing was like this. Nobody was like this. Not that he'd ever done it with nobody else, but it wasn't just the sex; it was the way Ishimaru had his hands over his mouth endearingly like he was tryin' to cover his red face; it was the little squeaking noises that were so contrasting to his normally strong baritone voice. He had no idea what he was saying himself, muttering little nothings and profanities as he sweated and worked himself in and out.
Finally, release came, and Mondo dropped like a dumbbell onto Ishimaru's chest, breathing out. He could still feel the other boy's hardness underneath, but fuck, he was tired and happy and it was like, 1am and he had work the next day, and now all he wanted was to fall asleep like this, even though he'd likely as not get a sore neck in the morning.
His eyes closed.

Ishimaru shifted underneath. Mondo felt that heartbeat still going fast as a jackhammer against his chest, even as his own slowed to a peaceable rhythm. "Go to sleep, babe." he murmured, muffled against flesh.

There was a pause. When Ishimaru finally spoke, he sounded wide-awake and nervous.
"...I wanna move in together. Make it serious. I... I love you."

Mondo fell asleep.

Note: This is on temporary hiatus as I concentrate on uni work and other fandoms, sorry! I should come back to it, though, I got plans.