Chapter Text
“Just talk to him,” Amanda had said. “You don't have to make a big deal out of it, just get a drink with him and see what you can find out. You guys run a dojo together, for Christ's sake. You're allowed to ask him some personal questions. Worst case scenario, you confirm he really is straight, and you can put your whole thing for him to rest. Best case...” and then she’d made a lewd hand gesture and winked.
Which is how Daniel found himself in a bar, talking to Johnny Lawrence about his love life.
“We're kind of taking a break right now,” Johnny is saying. “Carmen says she wants to take things slow.”
“Take things slow? I didn't know that was a speed you could go.”
“Oh yeah, wiseass?” Johnny flicks a bar peanut at him. Daniel catches it out of the air and demonstratively pops it into his mouth.
“Nice catch,” Johnny concedes. Daniel grins at him, and he scowls. “You know, you could at least pretend you're not enjoying this. Laughing at me while you're going home to your hot wife and perfect family every night.” He takes a sip from his beer.
“Hey, it hasn't always been a picnic for me, either. Pretty sure I was close to some sort of world record for ‘number of times a guy can get dumped’ after high school. Still not sure what I did to make Amanda stick around, but I hope I never accidentally stop doing it.”
“Yeah?” Johnny says. “I don't know, still sounds like you're bragging. Poor me, I had a hundred girlfriends after high school. Whatever.”
“I don't think falling in love with every person I met back then gave me any bragging rights,” Daniel replies darkly. “It was kind of a shitty time, honestly.”
He takes a breath, weighing his next words carefully.
“Hell, the first guy I dated turned out to be a complete sociopath,” he finally says, trying to make it sound casual. He takes a long sip of his martini, looking at Johnny sideways to gauge his reaction. Johnny's eyes dart back and forth a few times, but he doesn't do a spit take or anything, so that's something.
“Yeah, how so?” he finally asks. Daniel can tell that his casual tone is also fake, but at least he's trying. It’s more than Daniel expected.
He considers for a moment how to best tell this story without sounding like a whack job.
“He was older,” he finally settles on. “Actually, he was teaching me karate at the time.”
Johnny actually does do a spit take then. “You hooked up with your sensei?”
“No!” Daniel sputters. “Different sensei, and also, I wouldn’t really call that guy my sensei, he was just, uh, showing me a few moves.” That’s one way of putting it, he thinks.
“Why? You and the old man get into a fight or something?” Johnny asks.
“Well. Yes, actually. It was the year after we graduated and we'd just come back from Okinawa—"
“Wait, wait, so this was right after high school?” Johnny eyes him suspiciously. “When you say the guy was older, how much older we talking here?”
Daniel doesn't like how hung up on the details Johnny is getting. Maybe he shouldn't have started talking about this. “To be honest, I don't really know,” he admits. “But probably like, mid thirties?” When Johnny raises his eyebrows, he rushes to explain, “But no, it wasn't like that. I, uh, started it.”
“You started it.” Johnny doesn't sound convinced.
“Well, yeah, I.” Daniel can feel his face heat up. He didn't really mean to reveal so much. “I guess I was feeling pretty insecure at the time and it was nice to be noticed by someone who had, uh, experience. So, I went for it.” He awkwardly sloshes his drink around, trying to focus on anything but Johnny's probing eyes.
“You said he turned out to be a creep, though,” Johnny says, somewhere between a statement and a question.
“Yeah, it turned out he was lying to me about a bunch of stuff, trying to get me to do things I didn't want to do – no, not that, I'm talking about my karate training,” he says when Johnny gives him another pointed look. “Anyways, it all kinda went sideways in the end, but luckily I managed to patch things up with Mr. Miyagi. Never saw the guy again after that.”
Daniel swallows the rest of his drink in one go, then immediately orders another, a whiskey this time. He needs to stop talking about this. If he mentions anything about Cobra Kai or Kreese being involved, Johnny might actually have some sort of aneurysm. He's also having a dawning realization that his teenage memory of the story possibly doesn't quite match up, and it's not something he wants to unpack right now, in front of Johnny. Something to meditate on later.
“Honestly, I thought you'd have more questions about the fact that I dated a guy,” Daniel points out, desperate to steer the conversation in a different direction.
Johnny almost looks offended. “Hey, come on, give me some credit. You've met my students, you think I don’t have a bunch of queers in there?”
“Okay, maybe don't say it like that,” Daniel admonishes.
Johnny rolls his eyes. “Fine, LGBT-AC/DC, whatever. Don't you start giving me that crap, I get it enough from Miguel already.”
Daniel chuckles. “Oh, don't worry, I know a lost cause when I see one. But, you know, I appreciate you not being an asshole about this.”
“Yeah, okay, don't make a big deal out of it.” Johnny waves him off.
There's an awkward silence as they both take long sips from their drinks, not looking at each other.
“So, that happen a lot, you banging other dudes, or was that more of an experimenting in college thing?” Johnny finally asks.
“Okay, you know what.” Daniel shoots him the dirtiest look he can muster. Shouldn’t have praised the guy too soon, always a mistake. “I didn’t even go to college, jackass.”
“Hey, I’m not judging you, I’m just curious.” Johnny puts up his hands, all innocence. “Seemed like you wanted to talk about it. Sorry for asking, I guess.”
Daniel sighs, once again wondering how his life choices have led him to this moment. “Fine. If you’re so curious, then yeah. I’ve dated a few guys. Not so much after high school, though. That first experience kinda scared me off for a while. Plus, it was the 80s, you know what it was like. Or I guess not, but I’m sure you can imagine. Eventually, I got sick of getting dumped by every girl in a 5-mile radius, so I branched out.”
“To get dumped by guys instead?” Johnny asks, delighted.
Daniel gives him a fake smile. “I’m glad this is lifting your spirits, Johnny. That’s all I’m really trying to do here.” He downs some more of his whiskey, mostly to punctuate the statement. “But yeah, pretty much,” he admits, tongue sufficiently loosened. “I think the only real long-term relationship I managed was in, what was it, 2006? His name was Dan Lewis, met him at an auto convention—”
“Your boyfriend’s name was Dan?” Johnny bursts out, a little too loudly, prompting Daniel to look around the bar and check if anyone’s looking at them. The only person who seems to have taken notice is the bartender, who is pointedly minding his own business about it.
“Okay, I know the name thing is weird,” Daniel admits in a hushed voice, “but what am I supposed to do, reject the guy because of a coincidence?”
Johnny laughs. “This is priceless, man. You are so in love with yourself, you wanted to date yourself. I bet you jerk off looking in the mirror, too.” He starts to take a drink, then stops mid-motion. “Wait, did you say 2006?” Daniel can see him do the math in his head. “But that would be after your daughter was... you cheating on your wife, LaRusso?”
Daniel sighs. He hadn't really planned to stack up all the revelations in one evening like this.
“No, no, it's not like that. Amanda and I are... let's just say, we have an arrangement.”
“Arrangement?” Johnny repeats, like it’s a foreign word. After a few seconds, comprehension dawns on his face. “Ohhh. Oh my god. Of course you guys are swingers, that makes so much sense. Fuckin' Encino, man, I should've known.”
“Okay, it's a little more complicated than that,” Daniel says, scoffing. “This isn't some Eyes Wide Shut thing.”
“Eyes wide what?” Johnny says, and Daniel thinks he should really know better than to reference movies that came out past the year 1994.
“What I mean is, this isn’t a ‘rich people having weird orgies behind closed doors’ situation, okay. Amanda and I are” – he scrambles for a different word than polyamorous, which will probably just confuse Johnny even more – “We don't like to limit ourselves to just each other, you know? We don't do the jealousy thing.”
“Huh.” Johnny looks like he's puzzling over that for a moment. “So does that mean I have a shot with Amanda?” he finally asks, grinning.
“Hey, watch it.” Daniel narrows his eyes at him. “Don't get any ideas, I can veto you. Besides, you're not really her type. She tends to go mostly for women these days.” This isn’t a hundred percent true, but Johnny doesn’t need to know everything.
“Right, makes sense. That's why she's attracted to you.”
“Oh, ha-ha, very funny. Anyways, you're not going on her list, so don't even think about it.” Daniel underlines his point by wagging a finger at Johnny.
“Her list?” Johnny asks, raising his eyebrows. Daniel really wishes he could develop a filter one of these days.
“Well yeah, we each have a list of people we've, uh, approved for each other.”
“And do the people on the list know about that?” Johnny asks, looking genuinely curious. Daniel swallows. This is all getting a little too close for comfort. He suddenly remembers that he came here to find out things about Johnny, not the other way around, and he’s not sure how the conversation got so away from him.
“Not… necessarily,” he hedges. “The list is just for us. Turned out to be easier that way. It’s pretty annoying to wait for permission via text when you're in the heat of the moment, you know? So, if there's a likely candidate coming up, we talk about it. Doesn't mean it usually leads to anything, but we just like to be prepared.”
“Huh. Nerds.”
Johnny takes a long sip from his beer, gears clearly turning in his head.
“So am I on your list?” he finally asks, raising one eyebrow.
He’s just saying it to tease him, Daniel knows that, but he can feel the warmth of a flush spreading to his cheeks. The whiskey was definitely a mistake.
“D'you want to be?” he shoots back before he can stop himself. He means to make it sound like a joke, but it doesn't come out right, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears.
Johnny, to his credit, only chokes on his beer a little. He throws the rest of it back in one fell swoop.
“Hey, we're done here,” he shouts at the barkeeper. Then he throws some bills on the counter, gives Daniel a long, pointed look, and walks away.
Well, shit.
“Johnny, wait!” Daniel runs after him, but not before waving over the barkeeper and paying the rest—Johnny only left three dollars—of their bill.
He finally catches up with Johnny outside as he’s already getting into the Dodge.
“Johnny, I’m sorry if I made it weird. I shouldn't have said that. Can we please talk about this?”
“What's there to talk about?” Johnny closes the door and then, to Daniel's shock, leans over and opens the one on the passenger side. “You coming or not?”
After a few seconds of hesitation, Daniel gets in.
They drive in silence for a while, just throwing glances at each other. Daniel tries to calm down his breathing but mostly fails. Is this really happening?
“So? Don't you have to text your wife now?” Johnny grins at him.
Daniel hesitates. Some part of him still expects this to be some kind of prank, Cobra Kai shit, like Silver and Kreese are going to jump out from the backseats and rub it in his face if he agrees to this. Then he looks at Johnny and sees something that looks like genuine excitement in his eyes, and he has to remind himself that Johnny and Cobra Kai are no longer synonymous, if they ever were.
“No,” he finally admits, sighing in mock-exasperation. “You're on the list.”
“Ha, I knew it.” Johnny actually does a little fist pump, and Daniel doesn't know whether he wants to punch the shit-eating grin off his face or kiss it. Actually, he definitely knows.
“Yeah, laugh it up, Lawrence,” he says instead.
-
“You want a drink?” Johnny asks as soon as they enter his apartment. “I only have normal beer though, none of your fancy crap.” He immediately goes for the fridge and opens a bottle for himself.
“No, thanks,” Daniel says, lingering near the entrance. It’s still hard to be in this place and not remember the time he kicked down the door, and everything that followed.
“Suit yourself.” Johnny leans back against the counter, taking a sip.
Daniel catches himself fidgeting, flexes his hands. “How are you so calm about this?” he asks, mostly just to say anything.
“How are you so nervous?” Johnny shoots back. “You're the one who's been blowing dudes left and right for years.”
“Don't make me regret telling you about that.”
“Hey, if you’ve got regrets, the door is right there.”
“Okay you know what, this was a bad idea. Forget about it, alright?” Daniel says, about to turn on his heel.
“Oh come on, relax, it was a joke.” Johnny sets down his beer on the counter and strides over, catching Daniel's wrist in his hand and stopping him in his tracks. Daniel lets him. He wonders if Johnny can feel his pulse pounding.
He didn't think it would be like this, is the thing. In his fantasies, when he'd allowed himself to have them, he'd imagined some sort of drunken scramble, or a fight turned into fucking, something that would leave them both bruised and aching and that they'd never talk about again afterwards. He hadn't imagined Johnny looking at him searchingly with those blue, open eyes. It makes him feel exposed.
So, he falls back to what he always does when he’s cornered – he starts talking.
“So what, I'm supposed to just believe that after decades of aggressive heterosexuality, you suddenly have the hots for me, or something? I mean where is this coming from, Johnny?”
“Why's it matter?” Johnny says softly, his thumb caressing the inside of Daniel's wrist. Daniel tries his best to ignore it. He can't take this, this lack of antagonism. Maybe this is Johnny being nervous, and he’s just never experienced it before. He needs to push them into safer territory.
“Look, I just need to know you're serious about this. Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he says, as smugly as possible.
Johnny grins. He gets closer, crowding into Daniel's space and backing him against the wall. This is more like it, Daniel thinks, relieved.
“Seriously? When have I ever backed down from a challenge?” Johnny’s eyes are sparking with intensity. Daniel feels a shiver going down his spine. He still can't leave it alone, though.
“Do you even know what you're doing?” If Johnny is looking for a challenge, Daniel is happy to provide it. “Don’t forget, I’ve got a lot of experience to compare this to.”
“You asking if I've got the moves, LaRusso?” Their faces are really close now.
“Well, a guy has to wonder...,” he says teasingly, looking up through his eyelashes and flashing a smile. It's a look that's never failed him, well-trained since his high school days, and one he never imagined he would one day use on Johnny Lawrence, of all people.
And yeah, that's Johnny Lawrence's hand, rubbing his dick through his pants. Eat your heart out, High School Daniel.
“I'll show you moves,” Johnny mutters, leaning in even closer as he's fondling him. Their noses brush against each other, but he's still not closing the distance, just nudging against Daniel deliberately until he finally can't take it anymore and snakes a hand behind Johnny's neck, pulling him in.
As much as Daniel hates to admit it even in the privacy of his own head, Johnny is a fantastic kisser. The slide of their tongues together is like something electric, and Daniel has to all but stop himself from climbing the man like a tree right then and there. He’s still got some scrap of dignity left to protect here.
Meanwhile, Johnny has moved on to making quick work of Daniel’s belt and fly. Daniel takes the opportunity to get his own hands under Johnny’s shirt, checking if those abs are still there. Who besides Brad Pitt still has abs in their 50s? Johnny Lawrence, apparently, though they’re definitely less well-defined than they used to be. He doesn’t know whether to count that as a small victory, or a terrible loss.
As soon as he manages to push Daniel’s pants down, Johnny’s hands are on him again, pushing past the waistband of his briefs and resuming their previous fondling. Daniel moans into Johnny’s mouth. Dignity, who needs dignity?
“You like my dick, Johnny?” he murmurs against Johnny’s lips. “Think you can handle it?” It’s nonsense, he doesn’t even know why he’s saying it, like lines out of a bad porno, but then he’s never been good at controlling his mouth when he’s horny.
Johnny only grunts in response, gives him a few quick tugs, and god, he should be too old for that to affect him this much, but something about Johnny being the one to do it is making his body remember what it’s like to be a teenager again. It’s ridiculous.
“You know if you really wanted to make me feel special, you could—oh.”
His teasing is interrupted by Johnny sinking to his knees, pulling Daniel’s underwear down to his thighs and wrapping a hand fully around his cock, which is exactly along the lines of what Daniel was about to suggest, but hadn’t expected Johnny to actually do, what the fuck. That’s Johnny Lawrence’s mouth right next to his dick. At some point he’s going to need to stop having these thoughts about the guy using his full name, but it’s hard to do when he keeps surprising him with shit like this.
“This okay?” asks Johnny.
“Okay?” Daniel asks, wondering just how stupid he must look right now. “Are you kidding me? If you do this, I promise I’ll never mention that thing with the billboard again in my life.”
Johnny gives him a withering look. God, why can’t he just shut up? Or at least say something better?
“Sorry, forget that. Yes, it’s okay, it’s more than okay, I want you to do it, I’ll beg you if I have to, please, Joh—oh god.”
And that’s Johnny Lawrence, sucking his dick. It just doesn’t get old.
Daniel wills himself to look up at the ceiling for a while, employing about every breathing technique in the book in order to stop himself from doing something truly embarrassing, like shooting his load like an inexperienced 17-year-old, or saying some bullshit that will make Johnny stop what he’s doing. Because the thing he’s doing is kind of fantastic, swallowing him down almost to the base like a pro, and how is that fair, that Johnny Lawrence is apparently a natural at sucking dick?
When he finally does look down again, the sight is still almost too much for him, all his attempts to center himself be damned. It’s not just that it’s Johnny, it’s that he looks so into it, his expression not unlike the one he always gets when he’s demonstrating a complicated move at the dojo. Daniel can see his erection even through his jeans, and why is he still wearing all his clothes, anyway, Daniel should have done something about that. Amateur hour. 0 points LaRusso. 100 points Lawrence. Speaking of…
“You have done this before,” Daniel accuses, realizing the obvious truth of the statement just as it’s coming out of his mouth. And it does make Johnny stop (damn it!), pulling off to look up at him smugly.
“Never said I hadn’t.”
Daniel scoffs. “You implied it.”
“Oh, sorry, did I ruin your little fantasy? You wanted to be the one to take my gay virginity, LaRusso?”
“Maybe,” Daniel admits.
“Well, maybe you should've done that in ‘84 when you had the chance.”
“Oh yeah, as if you wouldn't have kicked my ass for even trying,” Daniel answers automatically, but inside his head there are alarm bells going off. Did Johnny seriously just admit to having a crush on him in high school?
“I mean, yeah, probably,” Johnny concedes. “But, who knows, you were a persistent little punk back then. Could've worn me down, maybe.” He's still working Daniel lazily with his hand, his face nuzzling into his thigh, and Daniel thinks he might be going a little insane right now.
“Hey, you bruised me up enough as is, I wasn't really looking to give you more reasons.”
“Always did look pretty with bruises on your face,” Johnny says, looking up at him with hooded eyes, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You know how frustrating that was?”
“Excuse me?” Daniel shoots back, his voice turning a little shrill, because okay, wow, he's not sure how he feels about that. His dick is pretty sure how it feels about it though, twitching traitorously in Johnny's hand.
“C’mon,” Johnny coaxes, stroking him faster again. “You want me to believe you never thought about it back then? Bullshit.”
Daniel throws his head back against the wall, bites down a moan. “Jesus, Johnny, you know you coulda just said something.”
“Yeah?” Johnny asks, eager. “How would that have gone?” And he starts mouthing at Daniel's cock again and it's just not fair, he wasn't supposed to be like this.
Daniel is not one to back down from a challenge, either.
“Wouldn't have said no to this,” he says, running his fingers through Johnny's hair, but lightly, not wanting to impede his movements as he starts sucking him in earnest again. “If you were even half as good at it back then as you are now, that woulda blown my little teenage mind.”
He doesn't miss the way Johnny's neck flushes a little, or the way he starts humming ever so slightly around him. Of course the guy gets off on praise, that might be the least surprising thing he's learned about him all night.
The question is, is Daniel feeling charitable right now?
Johnny reaches up to cup his balls, and Daniel realizes the answer is yes.
“Fuck, that's good, how are you so good at this,” he breathes out, curling his fingers into Johnny's hair, pulling a little. Johnny doesn't seem to mind that either, another useful fact he intends to take full advantage of when he gets the chance. But first, time for some honesty.
“I was thinking about it all the time,” he grits out, because it's the truth, but that doesn't make it easier to say, even now. “You were always so—so fucking perfect. With your blond hair and your abs and probably giant dick. Those fucking soccer shorts.” He stifles another moan. “I hated you for that, you know.” And he knows this has veered from dirty talk straight into venting out his teenage frustrations, but he doesn't care anymore, and maybe Johnny doesn't either, because he's not stopping this time. “Hated that it wasn't enough for you to beat me up, you had to mess with my head, too, make me crave your attention as much as I feared it. God, I wanted you so bad, you have no idea.”
Johnny pulls off him again, then, looking up with his hair disheveled, his eyes wild, breathing heavily. For a second, Daniel can almost see it, a vision of that boy who haunted not just his nightmares, looking up at him. He thinks that he would do anything Johnny asked him to do right now.
“Do you want to fuck me?” is what comes out of Johnny's mouth.
Well. Okay, then.
-
As they’re walking over to the bedroom, Daniel can’t help but notice the way Johnny is trying to hide his discomfort as he’s straightening out his legs. He winces, imagining how his own middle-aged knees would feel after being pressed into the floor like that. It faintly occurs to him that Johnny may be trying to impress him. And what has he been doing, leaning against the wall and letting his mouth run wild? Embarrassing. Time to get up off the mat and score some points.
Once they’re close enough, Daniel wastes no time in pushing Johnny by the shoulders to sit him down on the bed. Give those knees a rest, old man, he doesn’t say, but he’s thinking it very loudly.
Johnny looks at him questioningly.
“Your shirt,” Daniel says instead, reaching down. “It needs to come off. Rest of it, too.”
Johnny wordlessly lets himself be stripped down to his boxers, enduring Daniel’s running commentary (“Seriously, how many sit-ups a day do you do?” — “I’ve seen the way you eat, how is this even physically possible?” — “Not that I’m complaining as long as I get to touch them.”) until Daniel lingers on the hem of his own shirt, feeling a pang of self-consciousness.
“What, are you shy? I’ve already seen your dick, man,” Johnny says, batting his hands away and pushing up his shirt, so Daniel bends over and lets him pull it off. He proceeds to strip off his pants and underwear as well, because – and here’s a thought he’s never had before – Johnny’s got a point. Which makes it, what, 101 for Lawrence, still 0 for LaRusso? Clearly, the ref has been bribed.
Johnny takes the time to pull off his own boxers as well, and, well, there it is. “Up to your expectations?” he says with a smirk.
Oh yes, Daniel thinks. “Shut up,” he says instead, climbing into Johnny’s lap.
“Yeah, I’m the one who needs to shut up here. Okay,” Johnny says, but he lets Daniel push him down into the mattress.
They scoot up a little on the bed, and Daniel leans over Johnny, kisses him, lets his hands roam, and it’s so much, their skin touching everywhere, he feels like he’s going nuts.
“Let’s forget all that stuff I said earlier,” he says into Johnny’s ear, punctuates the statement with a bite to the earlobe. Johnny breathes in sharply.
“I never listen to what you say in the first place, LaRusso,” Johnny says, but it lacks the usual bite. He groans a little when Daniel pinches his nipple and runs his tongue behind his ear at the same time. Point LaRusso.
Daniel feels torn between wanting to take his time, figuring out how to coax more of these little noises out of the other man, and wanting to get on to the main event, unsure of how quickly that earlier offer from Johnny is going to expire if he’s not careful. His dick is pretty insistent on the second option.
“You got any lube?”
“Uh, yeah, I think so? Top drawer, over there.”
Daniel gets up to walk over to the shelf (Who doesn’t have a nightstand to keep their stuff in?) and, after some rummaging around, fishes out a small bottle of KY and a couple of condoms.
“This is 6 months expired,” he says critically after inspecting the label on the bottle. At least the condoms are fine, though.
“Oh, give me a break,” says Johnny. “Lube doesn’t expire.”
Daniel raises an eyebrow at him.
“It’s a scam!” Johnny insists.
Daniel sighs, getting back onto the bed. “Hey, it’s your ass on the line here. Literally.”
He could almost swear that Johnny looks a little embarrassed. “Just get on with it before I change my mind, man,” he says, rubbing a hand over his face, and Daniel doesn’t need to be told twice.
He sets down the spoils from Johnny’s drawer on the bed and sits down with one knee between Johnny’s legs, pushing them apart so he ends up sitting astride his left thigh.
Then he puts his hand on Johnny’s dick because, well, it’s right there, and Johnny could probably use the distraction.
“You like my dick, LaRusso?” Johnny says, in a bad imitation of a Jersey accent, and okay, he probably deserves the mockery, but still.
“Thought you never listened to what I say?” Daniel retorts, stroking Johnny back to full mast, and Johnny doesn’t seem to have a good comeback for that, just screws his eyes shut and mouths fuck off at him. Count it as another point for LaRusso.
Daniel picks up the lube with his left hand, pops the cap off. “Last chance to reconsider,” he says, because he’s nothing if not a gentleman.
“I’m not a girl, LaRusso, just do it.”
Daniel doesn’t really know what kind of twisted Johnny Logic that statement is the result from, but he decides that figuring it out isn’t worth the headache, so he just shrugs and pushes Johnny’s right leg up out of the way for better access, lubes up the fingers of his right hand, and starts circling Johnny’s rim with his index finger.
Then he leans over and swallows Johnny’s cock down his throat, at the same time as he’s pushing his finger inside him.
“Oh, fuck,” says Johnny, and Daniel generously awards himself 5 points. It’s a classic move for a reason.
Daniel carefully probes in deeper, making sure to keep bobbing his head at the same time, getting a good rhythm going, and he hums in encouragement as one of Johnny’s hands finds its way into his hair.
Things go a little quiet now that Daniel’s mouth is occupied – Johnny’s not a talker, apparently – so Daniel has to keep an ear out for the hitch in his breath to know when he’s found the right spot, and that’s fine, really, he doesn’t need to be told he’s doing a good job, he’s confident in his skills.
When he feels Johnny relax into his ministrations a little more, he pulls off of him, making sure to get the angle right as he adds a second finger. Johnny’s eyes widen when Daniel curls both his fingertips against his prostate, and Daniel wishes he could record the little sound he makes, for posterity, and possibly blackmail.
“So have you done this part before?” Daniel asks, mostly to break the silence, but also because he’s remembering this was supposed to be a fact-finding mission and so far, he feels like he actually understands less about what the guy’s deal is than when he started out.
Johnny twists his mouth, like he has to think about it. “Once or twice?”
Daniel laughs. “What, you’re not sure?”
“Get off my back, LaRusso,” Johnny huffs, and okay, so he’s just being willfully obtuse, never mind. “You gonna stick it in me already?” He knocks his foot into Daniel’s thigh, impatient.
“I’m getting to that,” Daniel says. “D’you want this to hurt, or something?”
“I can take it. Come on, hit me with your best shot.”
“That’s not—” Daniel smiles at him derisively. “This isn’t a fight, you know that, right? You can’t win at gay sex.”
Johnny shrugs. “Yeah, but I am winning.”
“Oh my god.” Daniel wishes his hands were free so he could slap his own forehead.
“I’m just saying, if someone was giving out points for this, I’d be totally wiping the floor with you.”
“No one’s giving out points,” says Daniel, who has absolutely been giving out points the whole time. “Stop being childish.” He’s lost count, anyways, who knows who was in the lead? (Johnny, it was definitely Johnny.)
“Just do it, LaRusso,” Johnny says, and is that a hint of desperation in his voice? “I’ll be fine, just plea—just, fucking, come on.”
“Johnny Lawrence,” Daniel says, because he’s never been able to drop something in his life, and he’s not about to start now. “Were you just about to beg me for it?”
“Fuck off,” says Johnny. “No I wasn’t.”
“Tell you what,” says Daniel, and he knows he’s pushing his luck here, but he can’t help himself. “I’ll do it, right now, if you just do one thing for me first.” And he makes sure to emphasize the point by curling his fingers inside Johnny again.
Johnny breathes in sharply. “Yeah, and what’s that?”
“Call me by my first name.” Daniel removes his fingers, puts on a condom and slings Johnny’s leg over his hip, lining himself up. “Can you do that for me, Johnny?”
Johnny meets his eyes. “You’re an asshole, Daniel.”
Daniel smiles at him. “I know,” he says sweetly, and pushes in.
Immediately, he knows he isn’t going to last long. Johnny is almost impossibly tight (which Daniel makes sure to tell him, earning another fuck you, Daniel), and he quickly has to add more lube just to be able to keep going. Johnny groans as Daniel pushes all the way in, his legs tightening around his back, and Daniel lets himself be pulled closer until their foreheads are almost touching.
“Johnny,” he says, strained. “Fuck, you feel so good, I can’t—” He drops his head down on Johnny’s shoulder, words failing him for the first time that night. Johnny digs his fingernails into Daniel’s back as he rolls his hips, slowly at first, then picking up the pace, and maybe Daniel doesn’t need to be praised during sex but it would be nice to get something, even insults will do, so he asks, “say it again, Johnny,” and Johnny answers, “please, Daniel” and that’s it for him, he’s gone.
He doesn’t know when in the frantic climax that follows Johnny manages to sneak a hand between them to finish himself off, but once Daniel’s thoughts have coalesced into something useful again, he finds himself lying completely spent on top of a sweaty slab of chest, their stomachs sticking together uncomfortably.
Daniel quickly extricates himself, figuring they need cleaning up, and that extended cuddling is probably out of the question. Johnny doesn’t move at all, just mumbles something unintelligible and pulls one of the pillows over his face, and if Daniel feels a little stab of pride at rendering him like this, he thinks that’s only fair.
-
Johnny finally decides to join him in the land of the living again after Daniel has spent some time hunting for tissues in his landfill of a drawer, and mostly taken care of the mess on both of their stomachs.
“You feeling okay there?” Daniel asks, waving the bottle of expired lube at him before setting it down on the little table next to the bed, alongside the remaining condom. “Any itching, or…?”
“I’m fine,” Johnny groans. “I told you, expiration dates are bullshit.”
“Hey, I’m just checking.”
“Hoping I’ll use it on you next?” Johnny waggles his eyebrows.
“I mean…” Daniel considers it. “Not right now, obviously, but…” He lets the sentence hang in the air, unsure of how much he’s allowed to expect, here.
“You wanna stay over?” asks Johnny, unbothered.
Daniel considers that one of these days he may need to stop making assumptions about the man.
“Okay,” he says. “If that’s cool.” If that’s cool? Get it together, LaRusso. “I do need to ask Amanda, though.”
Johnny looks a little scandalized, like he only just remembered that Daniel is married. Right, this is going to be a thing, isn’t it. “You’re not gonna tell her, like, details, right?” he asks, wincing.
“Not if you don’t want me to,” Daniel reassures him. Sad for Amanda, but those are the breaks.
“Okay. Uh, good.”
Daniel gets up and walks over to fish his phone out of his discarded pants. There’s a message from Amanda already, how’s it going with Mr. Karate Fang?
He swipes it, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a second. Best case scenario, he finally types. Okay if I stay over?
The string of emojis Amanda sends back could be interpreted a number of ways, from happy for you to told you so, realistically a good dose of both, but the permission is there. Daniel sends a thumbs up back, locks the phone, and crawls back into bed.