Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Divorced and drunk is not the best combination for a male LaRusso. Daniel chuckles to himself when he remembers Anthony’s first time being drunk – the boy had mistaken Sam from behind for his school crush and grabbed his sister’s ass.

Fun times, fun times.

Drunk LaRussos mean trouble, stupid drunk LaRussos mean horny trouble. Letting his eyes glide over the room full of high school graduates, most of them also intoxicated to various degrees, Daniel searches for age-appropriate candidates for his alcohol-fueled interest.

The principal – nope, she seems like she’s busy with… is that Amanda? He can’t deal with that right now.

Recently-divorced Mr. Urquhart looks nice, but also like he’s had so much to drink that he passed out – Daniel prefers his partners alive.

His gaze slides further over the room. Aisha’s parents seem to be having the 18+ kind of fun behind one of the stage curtains – good for them. They’d probably let him join but, nah – he’s never liked being the third wheel.

Carmen Diaz is hogging the microphone, and damn, does that woman have an amazing voice. Sadly, she seems way too invested in her current activity. He silently adds getting pegged by the woman to his mental bucket list.

Sam is making out with the thankfully recovered Diaz boy and Aisha at the same time. Drunk-dad couldn’t care less.

Robby and one of the female teachers are sitting extremely close together – hopefully, the woman is only appropriately counseling the boy. It occurs to Daniel that, since Robby is here, just maybe …

A swift glance over the row of tables - he could swear he sees Hawk and Demetri getting it on under one of them, and – oh, blonde hair -

Daniel’s drunk mind zooms in on – nope, false alert – the blonde hair turns out to belong to another very attractive father. Well, that’s not quite right. This is ‘an’ attractive father, not ‘another’ attractive father, because if it was ‘another’ then there would be more than one attractive blonde father present…

Daniel decides this one will do, though. Target acquired, he apologizes to the chair he runs into as he starts to make his way over to the man. He hadn’t sucked cock in a while - if the thirty years since his college days can be called ‘a while’.

LaRusso on a mission – time to change that!!! How >hard< could it be? Snorting at his joke, he starts moving.

Daniel ends up talking with the blondie, who turns out to be a teacher, not a parent. Mmh, teacher fantasies. Daniel’s mind is already making up scenarios about getting better grades the naughty way when a familiar gruff voice behind him interrupts his flirting.

“Fucking high-schoolers. I swear we weren’t this level of stupid-horny.”

Daniel wants to be witty in his retort and not seem utterly flustered at Johnny Lawrence’s sudden appearance by his side.

“We were definitely more intelligele- interigen- smart.“

Daniel decides the reply is witty enough for Lawrence.

Johnny’s eyebrows lift themselves as high as they can go and he lets his gaze glide over Daniel from top to bottom. “Christ, LaRusso, you are shit-faced.”

“Yeah, I’m a dirty boy.” The words tumble out of his mouth and would have been more effective if he hadn’t stumbled over nothing, falling backward and nearly splitting his head open. Two sets of strong arms catch him from each side, barely, before he hits the floor. “You’re my heroes,” he observes, the words slurred.

He turns towards the teacher he labeled as ‘blondie’. “You-“ Daniel notes that these eyes are the wrong color. That fact distracts him enough that he forgets what he wanted to say, so he settles for, “Wanna take me home?”

Johnny helps him stand up. “That’s a good idea. You are so plastered, LaRusso, you really should get your ass home.”

Daniel giggles and leans conspiratorially over to stage-whisper in Johnny’s ear. “Do you think Mr. Teacher will help me find my bed?”

Beside him, the attractive blonde teacher in his thirties blushes, then turns white when one Johnny Lawrence directs a death glare at him. “I- Oh- look over there- have to- the students-“ He jogs quickly to a small group nearby.

Daniel pouts, leaning heavily on Johnny, and groans dramatically, “There goes my dream-man.”

“Ooooookay LaRusso, time to get you home.” Johnny tries to get the man to stand on his own, but Daniel just throws his arm around his neck.

Imitating Johnny’s tone he slurs, “Ooooooooh no sir! LaRusso wants to dance!”

Before Johnny can react, he is off. Daniel grabs the teacher, who didn’t make it far enough away from him, and drags the startled young man onto the dance floor.

Daniel is proud of himself. He ends up dancing, or swaying, well, stumbling to a soft song, sung by Carmen, on the dancefloor with- “What’s your name?”

The man seems highly uncomfortable. “Matthew Cameron. Mr. LaRusso, I taught your daughter for four years. We met at every parent-teacher-night. And this,” Daniel grabs the man’s ass, “is highly inappropriate.”

Another fit of giggles escapes Daniel. “If you think this is inappropriate, wait until later.” He tries a seductive wink, but ends up looking more like he’s having a seizure.

Johnny mercifully steps in. “I’ll take him from here, sorry for the inconvenience. He’s not usually like this.” Johnny pries Daniel’s hands from the teacher’s neck; the young man looks incredibly relieved. Daniel tries to catch Markus, no Martin, no, whatshisname, but someone else’s strong arms press him against a warm chest.

Mmh, strong hard body - good.

“Stop rubbing against me!” But the big hands holding him don’t retreat.

“Not rubbing, ‘m dancing.” Daniel turns around to face Johnny, all doe-eyed and touchy. They end up with Daniel holding onto Johnny’s neck for dear life because of the unsteady floor – who had installed that rattletrap dancefloor? Stupid idea. Thankfully, the grip on his hips is nice and tight.

“You’re good,” Daniel moans into a neck that smells like a ‘manly man’.

Johnny snorts. “I thought you said I was a ‘bad’ influence?”

“At dancing I meant. Good at dancing.”

The song ends and Daniel sees Moon glide by. He turns around like a whirlwind, a very drunk, uncoordinated whirlwind. “Gotta go. Moooooooooooo-oooooooooooon.”

Johnny facepalms so hard it hurts. He has two options: do his duty as a chaperone – one quick look around the room (‘Is Amanda’s hand under the principal’s skirt?!’) tells him that’s already a lost cause – or… He winces when LaRusso’s too loud voice screeches in excitement as though he’s channeling a thousand horny teenagers at a Bieber concert. Yes, Johnny Lawrence now considers himself ‘hip’ and knows basic pop culture, thank you very much.

“You’r’ the bestest gurllll!” No adult man should be legally allowed to say that sentence. He might petition for a law against it.

It’s moments like these when Johnny Lawrence asks himself, ‘Why, oh sweet lord, did I stop abusing alcohol?’ Stupid AA meetings, with their stupid vows and their stupid inclusion that made him all warm inside; it’s all entirely their fault. Being the only sober one in a sea of intoxicated morons is probably its own circle in hell.

Meanwhile, before Johnny can stop him, Daniel snorts a mysterious white powder from the back of his hand. “I owe ya the moon- Moon.” He giggles at his joke; he seems to be doing that a lot this evening. “Get it?”

The girl graces him with a serene smile and lets a small plastic bottle with more of the white stuff glide back in her pocket before taking Daniel’s face in both of her hands. Her own eyes are also a little unfocused, or is it that he can’t see straight anymore? “Sometimes what your heart knows, your head forgets,” she says, her voice steady and her eyes clear for a second before she waves goodbye.

“What did you just say?”

A familiar hand waves in front of his face. “LaRusso? Anybody home?”

Daniel suddenly feels a rush of euphoria. “Need a DRINK!” He’s not sure if he shouts that one a little too loud. The same annoying, strong, beautiful hand from before holds him back from his most important mission: acquiring booze!

“I think you’ve embarrassed yourself enough for one evening.”

Daniel doesn’t understand. He needs punch and Lawrence denies him punch, maybe he should ‘punch’ Lawrence? Another fit of laughter catches Johnny off-guard as Daniel exclaims, “Punch you. You get it? Right?”

“Okay, snow-queen, time out, let’s get some water in you.”

Daniel seizes the opportunity to declare teasingly, “I’d rather get something else in me.” Annoyance takes hold of him when Lawrence doesn’t respond, and Daniel tries to explain his intentions matter-of-factly. “Like a dick, Johnny. I meant a dick.”

Johnny slowly breathes in and exhales like a parent ready to tell their kid Santa Claus might not be real. Why ‘might’? Because Johnny himself isn’t too sure. One never knows, okay? One never knows…

“Tell you what, LaRusso, I’ll drive you home where you can guzzle down the fancy shit you keep there?” Johnny hates praying but he silently prays now that somehow he’d convinced the man to… aaaaand he’s off to pester the poor teacher from before.

Johnny feels a growing headache. It’s going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

The blondie from before is actually a better option than fucking Johnny fucking stupid-face idiot Lawrence; stupid, beautiful, manly-face Lawrence.

Fuck. Need dick more than originally anticipated.

Daniel feels the snow – the coke, he is an adult, he can name things – kick in, and his mind starts to focus with the intensity of a laser on his goal of getting blondie’s cock. He leans leisurely against the table next to the man, his hand slips on the cloth and he nearly smashes his face into the wooden surface. Daniel seductively whispers, okay he’s slurring but it’s the thought that counts, “Mr. Teacher. Still alone?”

The man jumps slightly, fumbling with his tweed jacket. Cute.

“Mr. LaRusso.”

“Call me Danny.” Smooth, LaRusso, smooth.

The man seems intensely uncomfortable. “Mr. LaRusso, I think your boyfriend isn’t exactly happy to see you with me.”

Daniel is confused; his focus is still on those plum young lips, and how to get those lips against his. “Got no boyfriend, but we two could change that for tonight.”

The room is suddenly turning upside down. Rather, Johnny just unceremoniously picked him up and threw him over his broad shoulder.

“Lemme down!”

But Johnny already heads towards the door, ignoring the tantrum, with Daniel desperately groping for leverage against his muscular back.

“Stupid prick!”

Kicking seems like a good idea until a hard slap on his ass makes him moan and his dick twitch.

“Seriously LaRusso? That does it for you?” Johnny sounds way more amused now, but embarrassment finally stops Daniel from fighting back.

The two of them are probably one of the funniest sights in the room, besides the sight of ceramics teacher Mr. Mayer trying to prevent a student from performing ‘the helicopter’, and another student running through the room howling randomly at people like a werewolf.

Fuck, what was in that punch?
Johnny declares the chaos to be officially not his problem. He whistles, and though the man on his shoulder isn’t exactly light, he still bounces with every step. In a weird way, all of this IS a little funny.

LaRusso still seems annoyed but has given up fighting in favor of poutingly leaning his elbows against Johnny's back, his face propped on his hands overlooking the party. He’s staring daggers at Amanda, who nearly topples over with laughter at the sight of him, before she’s distracted by a hand on her hip and the words, “You want to inspect the principal’s office, Mrs. LaRusso?”

Daniel’s body bobs up and down with every step and his long legs are bent, so Johnny can hold him steadier. It wouldn’t do to die because he falls and breaks his neck. Headline: “Dealership Owner Dies at Local High School Party. In other news – Does Your Cat Want to Secretly Kill You?” (The answer is obviously yes.)

Once they are outside, leaving the music behind, the fresh air slaps him back to reality. “Come on, Lawrence, let me down,” he whines. “Pretty please. I promise to be good.”

After another hard slap on his rear, apparently for something like good measure, he lands on his feet too fast, catching onto Johnny’s arms to stay on his feet. The man’s voice rings with a weird mixture of amusement and concern in his ears, “Easy tiger. Where’s your car?”

Daniel gets out his keys, dangles them before Johnny, and snaps them out of reach with more coordination than even he predicted. Grinning, he tries for a sober voice, “I won’t let you drive my baby.”

“Well, I won’t let you throw up in mine. Now, give me the keys.”

In the sassiest manner, Daniel singsongs, “Only if I get a ki-iss.”

Daniel’s body stiffens, eyes wide open while his brain shuts down. Johnny’s lips are on his, and they taste like ginger ale and Grenadine. ‘Shirley Temple,’ his brain provides.

Daniel desperately tries to follow those lips when they retreat as fast as they landed on his.

Kissing is good - no kissing is bad.

But the blonde is already ahead of him, heading to the car. With a bounce in his step, Johnny turns around and swings the keys to Daniel’s black Audi on one finger. When had that asshole…

Johnny reaches the car and flashes him a grin, all teeth and cheek. “You coming, LaRusso?”

“I wish.”

“First get your ass in your car.”

Hope in his voice, Daniel finally, unsteadily, moves towards the Audi. “Later I get something else in my ass?”

“Maybe.”

He probably looks like Bambi first trying to walk; he trips, which sends him sidelong into an expensive car, and Daniel winces at the loud alarm that follows. It feels like quite a journey, nearly smashing his face into a lamp post and stumbling, while cursing, every time the ground is slightly uneven… or when it’s even but feels uneven.

On the drive to Daniel’s Encino residence, the man in question shout-sings to the songs that blast too loud through the car. Johnny made the grave mistake of trying to turn it off once; when he did, Daniel attacked him and he nearly crashed the car into a Starbucks.

Not that ‘that’ is the worst place to destroy; fucking hellholes trying to rob his hard-earned money with their sugary brown delightful drinks.

Currently, Johnny is just immensely glad that his ears are at least bleeding because of Guns n’ Roses. One has to thank the Gods for small mercies nowadays. He only regrets he is unable to record LaRusso’s banshee-like singing. The man’s face when hearing the recording days later would help heal some of the undoubtedly permanent damage to his soul done by this particular performance of “Welcome To The Jungle”.

Getting out of the car is hard for Daniel; thankfully the ground catches him. He mumbles into it, “You are always here to support me,” caressing the bricks under his fingers.

Strong arms lift him again; he could get used to this.

“Well, walking is obviously not an option anymore. Come here.” Daniel ends up riding on Johnny’s back to the door. His brain decides that this is delightful.

“No going inside! I wanna have fu-uuuuuun.” Daniel giggles and nearly topples them both by waving his arms around shouting, “Giddy up my faithful steed, we’ll conquer the nightly gardens!”

The decision to not just throw the dark-haired nuisance off is a hard one. ‘Patience, Johnny Lawrence, is a virtue,’ he tells himself. A fucking virtue.

“Oh come on, I wan’ a ride!” The man giggles, and if it’s adorable and cute that changes nothing about Johnny’s sour mood. “Pretty pleeeeease?” Nothing!

Leaning forward, Daniel nibbles on his ear, then lowers his voice to a husky, hopefully seductive, tone. “I could also ride you another way…”

With a defeated sigh, Johnny decides to humor the man on his back. “If I give you one ride around the garden, will you be a good boy and do as I say?” An excited squeal is all the answer he gets before LaRusso painfully spurs him on by striking his right heel hard into one thigh.

The things Johnny does to keep the peace between them.

Their ride through LaRusso’s backyard turned out to be - entertaining. Since they met again as adults, he hadn’t seen Daniel have this much unfiltered excitement in him. Slender, strong arms hold tight onto him. The light tone when he gasps every time Johnny makes an abrupt turn is definitely better than the high-pitched noises that came out of the man before – in too much quantity over the course of the past few hours.

Daring greatly is one of the things Johnny prides himself in being good at, and he jumps onto the mini-trampoline, trying to land gracefully on the other side.

In hindsight, it was destined to fail.

He miscalculated the LaRusso factor. His rider’s hands lose their grip in surprise, and Johnny feels the weight on his back pull him sideways before both men fall with a mixture of shocked squeals.

Daniel sees the water coming closer. Fascinated by its color, he can’t look away, and smashes hard, nose first, into the pool. That hurt like a motherfucker. Somehow he forgets that he has arms and is immensely grateful when the same pair of hands, the same ones that have guarded him most of the evening, pull him up and out of the water. He lies on his back by the pool, his legs still partly hanging in the water, staring up at Johnny.

“Fuck! You alright, man?”

Daniel.exe stops working.

Johnny’s very wet, see-through, thanks to being wet, white shirt clings to the blond man’s effrontery of a body. His thick muscles are outlined clearly against the fabric. No wonder he carries Daniel like he weighs next to nothing.

Chapter Text

This must be another unfair joke Mother Nature has played on Daniel.

Since he turned fucking twenty, he’s always had to watch his weight like a hawk. If he even looks at a muffin, a few extra pounds land on his hips and, for the record, nowhere else.

And here, this imbecile who has been a heavy drinker for years, whose diet probably consists of cake dough in a can, stands above him, looking down with brows scrunched in slight concern, displaying his Adonis-like body. Sure, Johnny carries a few extra pounds, but on his body they actually add to the already heavy mass of his muscles and make him look more substantial.

“I hate you,” Daniel groans. Obviously, his dick is still interested and doesn’t care about his brain’s screaming rage.

“I take it you’re fine then?” Johnny looks amused. Water drips from his blonde hair and lands on Daniel’s face. The weird angle makes him dizzy – well, dizzier. “Stay where you are, LaRusso. I’ll get some towels and water for you.”

Daniel hears Johnny’s bouncy steps make their way into his house. A warm breeze washes over his body, the stars above him shine bright, and he loses himself in counting them.

“Fourhundredthirtyseven, Fourhundredthirtyeight, Fourhundred-“

“Are you counting the times you ogled me tonight?” The smirk on Johnny’s face makes him look infinitely younger. God, the man is attractive. His wet clothes cling to his body, hugging what seems to be a more than decent package between those delicious thighs.

“Nope, counting the times I wanted your dick in me over the last thirty years.”

“Doofus.” Johnny throws a towel on his face. “Now, I remember that someone promised to be a good boy.” If it sounds dirtier than it should, Johnny doesn’t mind.

“I lied,” Daniel breathes. He snaps his hands out quickly, hitting behind Johnny’s knees and forcing the man to topple backwards into the pool.

That’s more like it. Daniel laughs until he feels a firm grip around his ankles.

Well, fuck, he could have guessed that would happen.

Daniel gets way too much water in his nose before he is hauled up. He manages to somehow not drown, sneezing out the water he inhaled. “Way to bring back sexy, LaRusso,” Johnny observes as snot runs down Daniel’s face and he frantically wipes his nose. His eyes are probably red, since his contacts feel scratchy.

He jumps, startled, when he realizes how close they are; his own erection is pressed against Johnny’s stomach now that he’s instinctively wrapped his legs around his muscular waist.

The man’s sky blue eyes stare intensely into his own, and Johnny murmurs, “You are such a temptress. I really shouldn’t do this-“ He grasps Daniel’s ass with one hand to keep him in place, while he sneaks his other hand up from Daniel’s neck to his hair, fisting it hard enough to border on pain.

Johnny leans forward, and Daniel meets him halfway. Their wet, open mouths crush together, and it’s a wonder there are no cracked teeth. Daniel desperately whimpers into Johnny’s mouth, licking, softly biting and nibbling. A small part of him wonders if Johnny minds that he’s as much devouring him as he is kissing him. But he can’t get enough, can’t restrain himself no matter how hard he tries. Johnny tastes so good.

Daniel has always been greedy to a fault. When his mom would buy ice cream, she had to keep Daniel from eating the whole box in one go; when he trained, he pushed himself so hard he could barely walk the next day; when he first sucked another dude’s cock, he deep-throated it the whole time. He threw up afterward and was unable to talk for nearly two days.

Out of the seven sins, Daniel has befriended all of them except for ‘sloth’. He has standards, after all. But greed always was his besty.

Johnny finally manages to break free from Daniel’s mouth, nearly losing part of his lip in the process as LaRusso tries to bite him into staying. “Christ, man, get a grip of yourself, or you’ll transform me into a second Hawk.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say,” Daniel counters. He tries to lean in for another kiss, but Johnny pushes him away.

“I’m not a nice man.”

“Could have fooled me with your attitude tonight.” Daniel’s erection rubs painfully under his wet trousers against Johnny’s stomach. His voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, Daniel asks, “Wanna hear something really naughty?”

“No.”

“I couldn’t get you out of my head, so before I went to the school tonight, I made myself comfortable on my bed after a few martinis. And there-“

“-careful LaRusso, don’t start something you can’t-“ Daniel puts a finger on Johnny’s lips.

“And there I lubed up my fingers. I let them glide over my aching cock,” he leans even closer, “but that’s not where I wanted them. So I slid them further down and used them to open my tight hole. Can you imagine that?”

Johnny’s eyes are two completely-black orbs filled with desire.

Daniel’s voice drops so low Johnny can barely hear him. “Since my fingers can’t reach far enough, I have a little helpful something in my nightstand. I lubed it up and slowly pushed it into me, inch by inch, thinking about you pressing me into the bed – making me take it.”

“LaRusso…” Johnny hisses his name like a warning, his insistent erection pressing against Daniel’s ass. Finally, some progress!

“Don’t you wonder what it would be like, Johnny? I’m still sore from it but also stretched.”

Johnny’s fingers dig forcefully into his ass, and Johnny moans. Daniel feels his goal come closer. Just a little push, and Johnny might finally crumble.

“I’m so open, I bet you could slide right in. I want you to use me, Johnny. Make me gag, push m-“

Daniel is suddenly underwater. Did that prick just let him fall back into the pool?!

Seconds later, he is sulking, hanging onto Johnny’s neck again, legs tightly locked around the man’s hips. Johnny’s voice is rough, like he just ran a marathon. “If you start talking again, I’ll let you drown for real.” Daniel raises an eyebrow, and Johnny dares to laugh, “Why can’t I be furious with you for once?”

“Because I’m fucking adorable, bitch.”

“Yes, you are, LaRusso.” Johnny gives him a quick peck on the nose. “You really are.”

Daniel huffs, “Are you finally going to help me out of the pool or what? My clothes are wet.”

“With manners like that? How could I resist, your highness?”

Daniel giggles as Johnny makes his way across to the stairs of the pool, with him still hanging onto the man like a koala. It seems he, Daniel LaRusso, has won another battle. His packhorse doesn’t even try to get rid of him; instead, he nudges him higher on his waist before making his way out of the water, holding Daniel by his ass so he can’t slip from his grip.

Daniel’s dick jumps at his show of strength. “I like being carried.”

Johnny rolls his eyes. “I never would have guessed,” he replies, but his voice isn’t as sharp as it was earlier in the evening. “And, LaRusso?”

“Yes?”

“Stop sniffing my hair. That’s gross.”

“Gross in the sexy way or-“

“‘Sparkling unicorns fucking on a rainbow while singing children’s songs’ gross,” Johnny interrupts him.

“Doesn’t sound that bad to m-”

“While the children are watching.”

“Okay, that’s disgusting.”

“Told you.” Johnny walks with him, still holding him tightly to his chest, through the living room and into the kitchen.

“Lawrence! You got water all over the carpet, that shit’s expensive to clean!”

Johnny heaves him onto the counter, right beside his espresso machine. “Guess someone is finally coming down from his trip. I’ll get some- NO!!!” Johnny snatches a bottle from Daniel’s hands. “Don’t drink that! That’s dish detergent. Do you have a death wish?”

“No, just thirsty,” Daniel pouts, then adds with a cheeky grin, “in every sense of the word.”

“I’ll take it all back. You are still tripping hard.” Johnny hands him a bottle of water from the fridge. “Jeez, you are like an overgrown toddler right now.”

“Aw, come on, Johnny, you love taking care of me.”

“I do.” The matter of fact honesty in the man’s voice makes Daniel blush. He tries to hide it by gulping down his water. When he finishes, he realizes Johnny is wearing only his boxers, and splutters the water in his mouth all over the floor.

Johnny seems unfazed and grabs a towel he must have taken from the ground floor bathroom. “Get out of your wet clothes, LaRusso.”

Slowly, watching Johnny towel his hair dry, Daniel starts to unbutton his shirt. Only now does he notice how uncomfortably it clings to his chest. A little too late, he realizes he’s forgotten to open the cuffs and now he’s trapped, stuck in his own wet shirt.

With a sigh, Johnny comes over, a towel slung around his hips. Probably naked skin underneath, delicious bare skin, lickable delicious skin…

“Earth to LaRusso.” The use of his name shocks him enough that he jumps, finding Johnny has freed his hands from his shirtcuffs at some point.

When the man kneels on one knee before Daniel, he chuckles, “You want to propose, Johnny?”

“Not yet.”

Fuck, that was unexpected. It’s usually him being witty and Johnny being dumb. When had that changed? He feels the heat creep up his face.

“I thought I’d help you out of your wet shoes and socks before you become a frog.” Johnny undresses Daniel until he stands on unstable feet in his underwear on the cool kitchen tiles. Those blue eyes captivate him. They are so close, and when Johnny talks, he feels the man’s breath hot on his lips. “You are more addictive than beer, LaRusso.”

“More than Coors Banqu-“ Suddenly, Johnny’s sweet mouth is on Daniel’s again. All he can do is whimper into it, opening himself up to Johnny’s probing tongue. Daniel’s brain melts like ice cream on a hot summer day. Every lick is electrifying; every breath shared with Johnny is life-saving.

Johnny reluctantly breaks the kiss. “I trust you to be able to handle yourself. Well, that’s a lie; I currently don’t trust you with anything, but you’ll manage. Where are your clothes?”

Dumbstruck, Daniel answers, “Upstairs.”

Johnny rolls his eyes, “I figured that much out myself. I don’t wanna go through your stuff.”

Daniel is suddenly distracted by the towel around Johnny’s hips moving and the silhouette of that thick cock pressing against the fabric.

“You know what, LaRusso, you really don’t deserve my consideration.” With a huff, Johnny is gone, leaving Daniel to perform the nearly-impossible task of toweling himself dry. The room spins continually and he has to concentrate to make his body cooperate. After a few attempts to get rid of his underwear while standing, he falls over and surrenders to the fact he can only complete the task while seated.

After what feels like hours of excruciating effort, he sinks on the couch in his living room and closes his eyes, intending to relax just for a couple of seconds until Johnny comes back.

So soft, so warm, a steady heartbeat under his head.

Daniel doesn’t remember going upstairs, doesn’t remember why he’s in the guest bedroom, and he can’t imagine why a warm body would lay under his, tucking him protectively against a muscular chest.

He hears a gruff “Go back to sleep, Daniel.” And the last thing a tiny part of him in the last corner of his head registers is the fact that he hadn’t heard his given name in quite a long time. Maybe the last time was before Amanda left him.

Now, the constant, pathetic feeling of getting drunk too often, of being divorced, of being a failure, is washed away by the distant sound of Johnny saying his name.

Chapter Text

Daniel wakes up feeling ill. Very ill. Fuck it, I'm going to puke all over the place ill.

He already misses being the horny kind of ‘I’d fuck everything’ drunk. His limbs refuse to work. He heaves, and thankfully someone pushes him over and holds his head over a bucket beside the bed. The smell of his own sick - fragrance: ten-day-old run-over raccoon - makes him retch even more.

“Rinse.” The command is impossible to ignore, so Daniel takes a gulp from the glass of water pushed into his hand before he spits it out. “Drink!” The water is at first a blessing, but soon he registers that he'll probably puke again if he doesn’t stop. A hand in his hair forces him to continue, and he’s too weak to struggle against the grip, determined not to drown. “Good boy. Long term, it’s the best solution to call for Ralph again. Trust me on that one. Better get it all out of your system.”

Daniel heaves up the water minutes later. He would have laughed at the comical vomit jet shooting out of him, but his body trembles from exhaustion.

Encouraged by the words, “Come on man, you can do it, let it all out,” he is determined to relax his throat. The sooner everything is out, the sooner he can lie down again.

When some sweet soul in heaven finally has mercy on Daniel and stops his stomach from trying to force itself out of him, he rinses his mouth with water, then with mouthwash.

“Well done, LaRusso.”

Someone forces half a bottle of water down his throat, this time more gently, and he leans against the warm body next to him. Daniel drifts off again, feeling a warm washcloth softly cleaning his face. He is already asleep when rough hands carefully take his head, lay him down and pull the blanket around his body.

When Daniel wakes up again, he only feels marginally better. The nausea is just a background choir to the hammering headache that plays the enthusiastic front musician in his brain now. Thankfully the curtains are shut, and the few rays of light that make it into the room are more pleasant than painful.

On his bedside table, he finds his glasses and his contact lenses case. Had he at one point removed them? If so, he is immensely proud of that part of his past self. Good work, muscle memory. He also wears his blue striped pajama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt.

Putting on his glasses, he finds a bottle of water, pills, and a note on the small table. ‘Take them. If you think about not taking them, STOP IT, AND FUCKING TAKE THEM!’ Daniel’s head hurts as though Johnny’s note shouts the words directly at him.

Johnny…

Daniel blanches.

Too quickly, he jumps to his feet as memories rush back to his consciousness with the power of a thousand Jedis hitting him with the Force at the same time, and he bangs his toe hard on the nightstand. “Arrrrrrrgh!” The pain sizzles through his body, making him cry out and curse; this plus the tears springing to his eyes makes his headache worse.

How he hates being nearly fifty, how he detests being old and divorced and alone and hungover.

Finally, he takes the pills and catches a glance at himself in the mirror on the cupboard opposite the bed. His hair is messy, big bags under his eyes age him, and his current bad posture makes him wince in sympathy with his intervertebral discs.

He hisses at his mirror-self, “What are you looking at?” His reflection frowns back at him. Daniel brushes a hand through his mop of dark hair, which already has a few white streaks in it, and groans quietly, “I’m fucking pathetic.” Tears form in his eyes again. This time, it’s an internal pain that shakes his body with sobs.

“You finished being a pussy soon, or do I have to keep watching this sad spectacle?”

Hastily, Daniel lifts his glasses and brushes the tears off his face. When he turns, he discovers Johnny leaning near the the door, his back propped against the wall and a cup of coffee in one hand. An amused smile spreads across his stupid face.

Rage replaces sadness in seconds. And isn’t rage a much better feeling anyway? “You’re such a prick. How long have you been standing there?”

“Basically, since you pulled your carcass out of bed.”

“Did you fucking watch me sleep like a pervert?”

“Yes - but trust me, there was nothing to perv over. I tell you, it’s not a pretty sight watching you drool all over your pillow . Plus, if you didn’t snore like a hoard of Vikings, I’d poked you with a stick every couple of minutes to make sure you’re still alive.”

Daniel’s voice drips with sarcasm, “I’m sure you were very concerned about my welfare.”

“Oh, come on, man, you and I both know you are basically un-killable. Trust me, I’ve tried.” The joking tone of Johnny’s voice takes him aback. After another trademark sleazy smile, Johnny continues more seriously, “Don’t look at me like a beaten kitten. Maybe I really was concerned; sue me. I only realized how much you really must have had when I found you passed out on the couch.” Pushing himself off the wall and shoving the coffee cup in Daniel’s hand, he continues, “How much did you drink?”

The feeling of the headache pills kicking in and the smell of coffee takes some of the edge off, and Daniel truthfully tries to recall his beverage-consumption. “I may have downed a few martinis before I-,” Dear Lord, did he really tell Johnny that he fucked himself while thinking of him? “-drove to the school.”

Johnny’s broad grin tells him, that he definitely told him what happened after the martinis.

“Before I went in, I sniffed some – courtesy of Moon. I really need to pay that girl.” Daniel raises his hand and hisses, “Don’t fucking say anything. I realized how dirty that sounded the second I said it out loud.”

It’s harder than it should be remembering everything in the correct order. “Entering the party, I had some of the punch, then,” he hesitates, “half a – you know…”

The dry, “I honestly don’t,” made it clear he had to spell it out for Johnny.

“Half an MDMA.” Ignoring the raised eyebrows of the other man, he concentrates. He does remember most of what happened after that point, but his memories are filtered through a lens of excitement. “I shared a bottle of wine with the Robinsons in the hall, and Hawk offered me some of his granddad’s home-brewed schnaps. That’s when I hit a level of intoxication I usually try to avoid.”

“Fuck, I know you don’t go down easy, but that sounds… unhealthy.”

Damn, since when could Johnny imitate the “disappointed mum” look? Daniel continues his rendition of the evening before. “After, I scanned the room and talked to the blonde… oh no…” Daniel’s eyes widen.

Johnny’s enthusiastic “Oh, yes!” didn’t help.

The headache swings at Daniel with full force and wallops him unexpectedly. “Did I try to force myself on Mr. Cameron?”

“Yep. Multiple times.”

“I’m…” He remembers taking more coke, then Johnny shouldering him, the parking lot, the kiss (unexpected, sweet, amazing), the singing, the- “Did you give me a piggyback ride through the backyard?!”

“I thought if I humored you, you’d make my job easier. Spoiler alert: You didn’t.” Johnny finally takes pity on him. “I’ve prepared scrambled eggs downstairs. They’re probably cold, but you should eat something.” When Daniel doesn’t move, Johnny throws him another of his trademark shit-eating grins. “I could always carry you downstairs. I know you’d like that.”

Daniel groans in frustration but starts moving. This morning is a disaster. When he steps out of the room though, the house is filled with sunlight, suggesting it’s definitely past midday. Daniel would straight up murder for his sunglasses right now, but he really doesn’t want to put an even bigger target for Johnny’s mockery on his back.

The breakfast plate Johnny encouragingly pushes towards him looks like a small war zone, but food is food and Daniel just realizes how incredibly hungry he is. Sitting down on the bar stool by the cooking island, he has to restrain himself from ungracefully shoveling the smashed-up ingredients down his throat. Are those fucking eggshells? For the first time, he really looks at Johnny, who directs a grin at him that shines as brightly as a nuclear power plant.

His former nemesis wears a band t-shirt he registers as one he himself bought back in his twenties. It must have been somewhere in the bottom of one of his drawers. He couldn’t throw it away because he has such fond memories of that Alice Cooper concert; but he also hates the shirt a little. It’s the only piece of clothing he kept from his ‘heavier time’.

He tries not to look further down, because Johnny’s wearing Daniel’s too tight Calvin Klein trunks, and they leave nothing to the imagination. Daniel can hardly handle himself as it is; looking at the outline of that particular cock would end in another embarrassment for him.

While he eats, Johnny actually washes the dishes he used, cleans up the kitchen, and of course he can’t keep his mouth shut. “I have to say, I always had that image of you being an uptight, snotty but vaguely graceful, elegant fairy. You’ve definitely destroyed that picture.”

“Stop talking so loud.” Or altogether. Why was that man in such a good mood?!

Johnny raises his voice just slightly. “Don’t tell me you are a pussy who can’t handle his hangover!”

Daniel winces, massaging his temple. He knows what he has to do, and just thinking about it hurts more than his headache. Before he can decide otherwise, he presses out a “thank you” and shoves down the rest of the food, decisively staring at his plate.

Daniel jumps when Johnny’s large body suddenly presses against his back; Johnny’s arms cage him against the kitchen island, effectively trapping him in his seat. His whole body freezes, unable to defend, unable to attack. Johnny’s voice drops low as he breathes into Daniel’s ear. “Thank me for what?”

Hands trail up Daniel’s arms, leaving goosebumps behind, before settling on his stiff shoulders. Daniel suppresses a moan of pleasure when Johnny starts to massage the tight knots there. What comes out instead is a desperate little whimper. Fuck, he sounds like the neighbors’ new kitten when she accidentally fell in the pool; too shocked to make an actual sound, to desperate to be totally silent.

“Thank me for what, LaRusso?” That hot mouth mutters the words into his neck.

Daniel is unable to say anything; all the brain cells he has left are as frozen as his body. Johnny’s fingers still dig rhythmically into his shoulder muscles.

“Maybe ‘Thank you, Johnny, for keeping me from fucking one of my daughter’s teachers?’ or ‘Thank you, Johnny, for listening to my singing voice that makes nails scratching on a blackboard sound like a choir of angels,’ or,” Johnny nuzzles into the hair behind his ear, “-maybe you want to say ‘Thank you, Johnny, for having the restraint of a saint since you didn’t destroy my crispy,” Johnny licks the tip of his ear, “sweet,” his hands trail down Daniel’s back, “ass,” here, he pinches that ass hard, and Daniel jumps forward in surprise, “with your fat cock.”

Daniel is now shaking like a leaf. It takes a second for him to realize Johnny has circled to the other side of the cooking island and is leaning across from him with an amused smile on his lips, his voice light as though nothing unusual just took place.

“So, which one is it?”

Oh, how Daniel wants to storm out, but showing Johnny how much this has affected him isn’t an option. “You are such a prick!”

“Since we’re on the subject of my prick... Fourhundredandthirtysomething times you thought about mine in you, right?”

Another memory hits Daniel, unforgiving and hard. His face burns.

“Just for the record, LaRusso,” Daniel prepares for another verbal hit. Instead, Johnny’s voice takes on a soft tone. “Yes, I have wondered what it’s like. But only around threehundredsomething times… I’m not a pervert like you.”

Chapter Text

Daniel inhales sharply. Maybe the drugs haven’t worn completely off and he’s still hallucinating? Maybe he did drown in the pool last night and this is his personal hell – or heaven? Maybe this is an alternate reality and Demetri was right – all possibilities exist and time is just a construct.

“I like you more when you are talkative. Come on, LaRusso, work with me here.”

Shaking himself, Daniel focuses on Johnny again. “Sorry, it’s just-“ He takes off his glasses, lays them down and pinches his nose. This couldn’t be real, right?

“Okay, LaRusso, I’ll do this one last time, reeeeeeal slow, just for you.” Johnny is back to his usual, annoyed self. His voice has the tone of someone trying to explain to their kid why they can only have two scoops of ice cream and not five. “I didn’t want to fuck you last night because I don’t fuck people when they can’t make educated decisions.”

Well, his not so usual self maybe.

Johnny continues, “But does sober-you still want to get – how did you put it so eloquently last night? – used?”

Hungover-Daniel doesn’t know what forces bring him to nod, but he silently thanks them. In seconds, Johnny is on him, shoving the plate out of the way and pushing Daniel forward against the kitchen island, lifting his ass.

“Johnny, wait!” But Johnny unceremoniously shoves the waistband of his trousers down, his rough hands spread his buttocks, and Daniel moans aloud when he suddenly feels his hot wet tongue glide over his hole. “Please… Johnny…”

The man stops. “Yes or no, LaRusso? I was so close to abandoning what few moral values I have and just sliding into you yesterday - you have no idea how close.”

Daniel shudders at the implication, his whole body throbbing with the same lust that pushed through his veins the previous night.

Johnny’s thumbs brush his rim as he forcefully spreads him more. “I won’t be able to stop. If you really want to prevent me from wrecking you, now is your only chance.”

It shouldn’t be possible to get this turned on with a hangover but lust obviously trumps pain. Daniel barely manages to pant out, “Do it.”

“Leave or stay?”

Fuck Johnny for making him spell it out. Daniel practically sobs the next words, “Wreck me… please.”

It’s obviously all the invitation Johnny needs. His tongue is back, licking in broad strokes over Daniel’s twitching hole. Grasping for purchase on the flat cold surface of the marble countertop , Daniel can only wriggle and moan.

The sound of Johnny spitting on his hole, the feeling of his erection still trapped in his trousers, overloads his senses. “Please, Johnny, please…” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for.

“Fuck… You’re not just a slut when you’re drunk, you’re really kind of a nympho in general, huh?”

Daniel whines and tries to push himself even more towards Johnny. “Not a nympho – haven’t had sex with anyone else since Amanda – need it- “

Fuck, he hates how desperate he sounds, but it’s the truth. After their divorce, Daniel sank into a depression that only improved after he admitted to his current therapist that he was crushing hard on his former nemesis.

Questioning one’s own sexuality at nearly fifty was one of the issues he still struggles to deal with. Realizing that his ass is more sensitive than he could ever imagine, giving him the greatest pleasure when he imagined Johnny pounding it, was one issue too many, so he chose to ignore it. After he had that particular epiphany, the only response Daniel allowed himself was to get exceedingly drunk … until now.

Johnny leans over him and grabs the bottle of olive oil, pouring generous amounts over his exposed ass. A tiny part of Daniel’s mind screams at the thought of his ruined pants and the mess this would make in the kitchen. Still, it soon was shut down by the feeling of those hands massaging his buttocks, the feeling of a thick finger carefully pushing past his ring and inside.

“Fuck ,” Johnny pants behind him. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’re open. I bet with a little force I could shove two, maybe even three fingers in right now.”

“Then do it!”

Daniel allows Johnny – ‘allow’ being the wrong word, he would fucking beg the man on his knees – to put more fingers in.

The olive oil is pushed into him in great quantity while Johnny’s fingers stretch his rim more and more. A quick glance behind him makes Daniel’s last ounce of shame evaporate into thin air. Nobody has ever looked at him that way. Johnny’s eyes are fixed on him with such a hunger it sends excited sparks of fearful lust through Daniel.

The realization that the blonde is as desperate for Daniel as he is for him triggers his mind into letting go completely. “Johnny, please! I need your cock.” Tears form in his eyes when Johnny rubs his prostate. “I wanted it for so long.” His voice starts to break, “I’m sorry, please, so sorry-“

“Shhhh – Don’t be sorry, I got you. I’ll fuck you so good.”

“Yes, please, please, pl-” Daniel’s rambling is interrupted when he feels his fingers retreat and Johnny shoves one leg of his trousers down his left leg. Gripping his ankle, Johnny twists him around onto his back, where Daniel instinctively wraps his legs around Johnny’s bare waist. The man must have abandoned his clothes at one point. Just seeing his naked body does things to Daniel he can’t describe.

Johnny pulls him closer, sliding Daniel’s body over the marble beneath him until he feels his throbbing member pressing against his hole, waiting.

Impatiently, he groans, “Fuck me right now, Johnny Lawrence, or I swear to-“

Johnny’s hands inexorably tug the skin surrounding his ass as he pushes against him, prying his buttocks apart. That tightens the skin and sends another flush of desire through Daniel.

“Or what, LaRusso? You push me down and ride me ‘til you come?” Johnny hisses, “Look at me.”

Through the haze of desire, it takes some effort for Daniel to lock their eyes. He whimpers when Johnny presses their foreheads together and his husky voice whispers into Daniel's ear, “I want you to never forget the moment I made you mine – the moment I became yours.”

Johnny lowers Daniel onto himself, slowly sliding inside him and releasing a breath.

Gods, it feels good. Fanfuckingtastic. Inside him, Johnny is searing hot and silky.

It is magical, bordering on cliche , how perfectly they fit together. How Daniel’s walls pulse hotly around the cock filling him. How mad and desperate Johnny’s eyes are as he tries to maintain some kind of control.

Daniel reaches up to touch his face with one hand . “Don’t hold back with me, Johnny. I can take everything you can give.”

He yelps as Johnny pulls him up by his arm to slide him further down on that thick hard cock before Johnny’s hot mouth finds his, groaning into it, “Fuck, you are so strong, taking my dick so good. I might not hold out long.”

Daniel’s erection is trapped against his muscular stomach; when Johnny tightens his grip around his buttocks and starts to pound into him for real, it rubs against the hard six-pack. While his toes curl in excitement, Daniel moans shamelessly into the hot mouth covering his.

Johnny whispers huskily against his lips, “It’s always been you, Daniel, ” making him clench around his thick cock in pleasurable shock. He would have shouted his orgasm, but, distracted as his dick sprays cum all over Johnny , his brain still processing Johnny’s words, and the inside of his ass getting painted in white-hot liquid, Daniel is unable to let out more than a strangled whimper before sparks explode in front of his eyes and he is out.

Lying on the kitchen island with cum dripping out of him isn’t exactly what Daniel had in mind for his Sunday, but he won’t complain. For once in his life, he allows himself to enjoy the feeling of being open in every sense of the word. Johnny frees him of his shirt and the trousers still bunched over one of his ankles before picking him up naked, bridal style. Wrapping his arms around Johnny’s strong neck, Daniel sighs into his bare chest.

“No complaints ?” Johnny raises an amused eyebrow.

“Nope.” After a second he adds, “But don’t get used to it.”

“Aw, come on, I love it when you’ re all flustered and passive-aggressive.” Coming from anybody else this line would drip with sarcasm; not so from Johnny Lawrence. After a few seconds of silence, he adds, “ I obviously did something right if I fucked all of the words out of Daniel LaRusso.”

The funny thing is, Daniel really is still riding the afterfuck wave of pleasure and couldn’t care less about Johnny’s words.

“Why the hell are you carrying me outside?” Daniel doesn’t get further because Johnny just jumps, and a mere second later they are underwater.

-

They fill the afternoon fooling around in the pool, sleeping on the lounge in the shadows outside with their legs entangled and Johnny kissing every spot of naked skin he can reach.

They are in the middle of a heavy make-out session with Daniel naked on top, the lounge creaking beneath their combined weight and Johnny’s hard dick slipping into him again, when they are interrupted by an amused voice .

“You do know our children still live here, right? I mean, that sight nearly traumatizes me, wouldn’t want to know what it would do to the kids.”

Why can’t he catch a fucking break for once and where the fuck are all the towels? Daniel groans into Johnny’s neck. The man beneath him enthusiastically waves at Amanda, clamping his other hand down over Daniel’s thigh so he cannot get off the cock fucking him.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. LaRusso, I took care of that. Anthony is at his friend’s house until tomorrow evening, and Sam is at Aisha’s until … I have no idea, but I texted her that if she doesn’t want to have the experience of seeing her dad ride my cock, she’d better stay there.”

Daniel is furious. “What the heck, Johnny?!” His lover shrugs with a wolfish grin and shuts him up by pushing up and deeper into him.

Amanda grins, “That was very considerate of you, Johnny.” She claps her hands together in delight, adding, “Well boys, I just have to get… something from underneath the bed. Betsy is waiting in the car and we have some special evening activities planned.”

“Betsy?” Daniel frowns.

Johnny tries to be helpful, explaining, “The principal .”

Daniel groans, “What about our children, Amanda!”

His ex-wife pointedly looks at him, then down to where Johnny’s cock is deeply buried inside him, before finally meeting his eyes again . “I’m pretty sure I don’t have to say anything about that idiotic comment?” Shame is a very unwelcome feeling. It always has been. “By the way, good job, Johnny. When he can’t come up with a witty remark , it means you are doing quite well.”

Johnny shrugs, “A man does what he can, ma’am.”

Could the ground please open up and swallow him whole? Daniel doesn’t know how he will ever live through this experience.

“Mandy, what’s taking so lo- oh my god!” The principal turns immediately away, her face glowing like a red light. At least Daniel has competition now in the area of embarrassment since his ex-wife and current … whatever Johnny is to him now, seem immune to that feeling.

“Don’t worry about them, Betsy. My ex hadn’t had any for months, and I always suspected a good ass-pounding would help with his moods.”

“AMANDA!”

“I guess I’ll wait in the car.” Without turning around, Betsy waves at them, “Have a nice evening, Mr. LaRusso. Mr. Lawrence.”

Johnny waves back with a shit-eating grin, “You too.”

Amanda runs into the house, her steps echoing outside as she rushes up the stairs.

Daniel wallops Johnny on the chest. “You asshole!” he huffs. “And how can you still be hard?”

The man beneath him just smiles. “Have you even seen your wife? She’s hot.”

Daniel groans when Amanda’s voice chimes from behind him. “Thank you, Johnny. At least someone here appreciates me properly.”

With his most defeated voice, Daniel croaks out, “Can you just go, Amanda? Please?” This encounter is probably the universe's way of punishing him for the previous night, but enough is enough.

Daniel nearly has a heart attack when Amanda suddenly hugs him from behind and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. “Come on, it’s just a little joke. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Took you long enough. Believe it or not, I’m happier if you’re happy.” The woman saunters off, calling over her shoulder, “See you boys around.”

“Please tell me that just didn’t happen, Johnny.”

“It didn’t happen.” Every thought, every reply Daniel is about to have evaporates into nothing because Johnny spins him around and starts pounding them out of him.

Divorced and drunk may not be the best combination for a male LaRusso. Thoroughly fucked and loved on the other hand…

Chapter Text

For chapter 2:

The room is suddenly turning upside down. Rather, Johnny just unceremoniously picked him up and threw him over his broad shoulder.

(...)

LaRusso still seems annoyed but has given up fighting in favor of poutingly leaning his elbows against Johnny's back, his face propped on his hands overlooking the party.