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All in all, it's been a relaxing week. That's usually a sign that something monumentally weird is about to happen. But if Johnny's good at one thing, it's not learning his goddamn lessons. So when LaRusso offers him a lemonade after Friday training, Johnny sits down with him on the patio. What's the worst that could happen?
"It's Friday, LaRusso. You don't have any beer?", he complains as he accepts the glass from LaRusso and watches the kids trail out of the garden.
But LaRusso doesn't take him up on the challenge. He waits for Johnny to take the first sip, and goddamn, there's really nothing better than drinking something ice cold in a hundred degree weather. He'll immediately sweat it all out again, but that's besides the point.
LaRusso settles right next to him with a smug expression.
"Good, right?"
Instead of giving him the satisfaction of admitting it, Johnny rolls his eyes. "Let me guess, flew it in from Italy by express delivery."
LaRusso smirks at him. He made it. Of course he made it. Fucking show-off.
Johnny empties his glass and reaches for the pitcher behind him. LaRusso sat so close to him he can barely reach it without twisting his entire body, but he manages not to spill anything as he tops both their glasses up.
"So what do you want?", he says casually, and chuckles as he watches LaRusso's face contort with outrage.
"What do I want?"
"You're clearly bribing me for something--"
"It's lemonade! How is lemonade a bribe?"
"Yeah, I bet you got the real fancy lemons. From one of those stores where every fruit comes with a fucking high school degree. One grass-fed lemon for twelve dollars..."
LaRusso breaks out in laughter, and Johnny grins at him.
Honestly, he could get used to things being like this. Teaching in the same yard. Sometimes hanging out for an hour or two after training to talk about lesson plans and the tournament circuit. He thought the LaRusso's divorce would make things a lot more stressful, but it's honestly kind of mellowed Daniel out. He doesn't know if Amanda's lawyer prescribed some weed or however the hell an "amicable divorce" works, but Daniel's easier to get along with lately. Still deliciously easy to tease, and very funny to watch when he freaks out about stuff.
But they're civil now. The type of civil that comes with shoulder touches and what-did-you-do-on-the-weekend. LaRusso usually says yes when Johnny needs a partner for a demonstration. He even laughs at some of Johnny's jokes, and sometimes he picks up some Coors Banquet for the dojo fridge.
And yeah, maybe Johnny has chilled out a bit, too. Robby's finally back where he belongs -- far away from Cobra Kai. Firmly on LaRusso's side of the garden, but that honestly barely hurts anymore. Johnny feels more stable with Robby within his range of sight, even if the kid still doesn't fully trust him. He's started giving Robby rides to school. Sometimes, Robby lets Johnny buy him a burger and nobody says anything fucked-up for a whole afternoon.
He doesn't know if that's LaRusso's doing or Shannon's, but it doesn't matter either way. Even if LaRusso's contribution isn't as big as Johnny suspects, at least he's no longer standing in the way of Johnny's life slowly getting easier. That's gotta count for something.
But it doesn't change that Johnny knows when he's being buttered up.
"Fucking hell. Just ask," he says, leaning back onto his hands. His hand accidentally brushes LaRusso's arm - he did sit super close to Johnny, especially considering how fucking warm it is, but Johnny doesn't wanna make it a thing. A couple weeks ago, Daniel hugged Johnny goodbye out of the blue, and Johnny was so confused he completely froze up. LaRusso looked kinda sad when he pulled away, so Johnny's started initiating hugs sometimes. He can be a guy who hugs people. Every now and then, at least. It's not like he has to go full-on European hippie with cheek kisses and all that. Gross.
So LaRusso's trying to be friends - so what? At least he's finally realized that Johnny's not the goddamn Antichrist. Took him long enough.
LaRusso half-turns to face him, letting one leg dangle off the platform while pulling the other one in.
"I was wondering if you had plans tonight," he finally says, his eyes big and hopeful.
Johnny thinks of the piss-poor TV selection lately, and the half-empty sixpack he's got left. His fridge is pretty empty besides that. It'll have to be a frozen pizza again.
"Not really."
LaRusso nods with relief. “Okay. Do you wanna go out tonight? With me?”
Oh. That wasn't what Johnny expected.
He laughs. “What, like that time your cousin set my car on fire and we got hammered in that bar where a cockroach flew into your fourth martini?"
„No. I was thinking we could see a hockey game together. Maybe go for drinks after if you want to.“
He looks at Johnny with obvious anticipation.
Damn. LaRusso‘s clearly lonely as fuck. He doesn't hang out that much with Louie and Anoush these days, and Johnny doesn’t think he’s gone out with any chicks since the divorce went through — hell, probably not even since Amanda filed for divorce.
Yeah, man. That’s what happens if your wife is actually your best friend. People make it sound romantic in their wedding speeches but what really happens is you’re fucked if she dumps you. You end up so lonely you befriend the coworker who bullied you in high school and ask him to hang out on a Friday night.
Jesus, man.
Johnny can imagine better evening plans than getting hammered with LaRusso. (Actually, only one, and that’s getting hammered alone.) But he kinda feels bad for him. Honestly? Why not. He doesn’t care about hockey as much as LaRusso does, but it’s a fun sport, super physical and never boring, and if LaRusso‘s paying…
He is paying, right?
„I’ve bought the tickets already,“ Daniel says as if he’s read Johnny‘s concern in his face, and that’s irritating as fuck, but also kind of a relief. „My treat. But I’ll take Sam if you don’t want to. No pressure.“
„No, I'm in.“
LaRusso beams at him.
„Really?“
"Sure. Sounds fun. For me, at least. Gonna get some pointers on how to kick your ass."
LaRusso gives him one of those 'yeah right, asshole' smirks and empties his glass of lemonade.
"Right. Like you can even keep track of what's happening without my explanations."
"I don't need explanations to know to wreck you," Johnny counters, and LaRusso raises his eyebrows.
"Is that right, hotshot?"
They're just grinning at each other for a bit before Johnny takes both their empty glasses and puts them aside.
"So are you gonna pick me up?"
Parking is probably crazy over there. No reason to waste time looking for two parking spots. Besides, he doesn’t see a reason to waste gas on whatever my-ex-wife-is-my-only-friend midlife crisis Daniel is having.
"Sure. I'll be there at eight?"
“Cool," he says. "Thanks, LaRusso.”
LaRusso does a smug little eyebrow lift like the annoying dickhead he is. "You don't think it's time to start calling me Daniel?"
"Who are you, my waitress?"
"You are such an idiot."
"Yeah? You're the idiot who's paying to spend more time with me."
LaRusso opens his mouth as if to deliver some 'gotcha' line, but right then a car horn blares from the front yard, and Johnny realizes it's his. He gets to his feet.
"That's Miguel. I'm supposed to drive him home."
"Oh," LaRusso says, slowly standing up as well. "Okay. See you tonight, then?"
"Yeah. See you."
LaRusso hugs him goodbye, because apparently they're besties now, and Johnny's weirdly happy about it -- and yeah, maybe he also has no friends. Maybe he's pretty happy to get out of the house for once. To actually have something other than "nothing much" to say when Bobby calls and asks what's up.
Maybe he's actually looking forward to tonight.
Whatever.
*
He ends up driving both Robby and Miguel home, which means they'll have to swing by Shannon's place first. They're both in the backseat, the shadow of their former rivalry awkwardly sitting in between them. Miguel casually chats about school while Robby is messing around on his phone and rolling his eyes every ten seconds.
Finally, Miguel ends his nerdy-ass speech about how fascinating biology class was and leans forward.
"Sensei, do you wanna come have dinner with us? You... uh... you can come too, Robby?"
"Are you gonna be there?" Robby asks without looking up.
"At my own house? Yeah. Obviously. I live there."
"I'll pass."
Johnny laughs. At this point, they're both so petty it's actually funny.
"Are you coming, sensei?" Miguel says.
"Sorry, man, I can't make it," Johnny says while tapping the turn signal and looking over his shoulder to avoid eye contact with the kids. "I'm hanging out with LaRusso tonight."
"Hanging out?" Robby repeats sarcastically. "Yeah, right."
"What, you don't believe me?" Johnny says, and Robby snorts a little and looks back down on his phone.
Whatever.
Okay, so Robby isn't convinced that they actually do get along better now.
"That's great, sensei!"
Miguel, on the other hand, seems pretty stoked. That checks out. He's always going on about communication and the benefit of the doubt. Johnny's caught him multiple times telling LaRusso that Johnny means well and to be patient with him. Little traitor.
But hey, at least he's not gonna make fun of Johnny for being all buddy-buddy with LaRusso.
Miguel throws a pointed look over to Robby. "Isn't that great, Robby?"
Robby gives an unenthusiastic thumbs up.
"We're both very happy for you," Miguel says sternly.
Johnny laughs.
"Chill out, Diaz. I'm not donating my fucking kidney to him. Jesus. We're just seeing a hockey game."
"Oooh," Miguel beams. "What are you gonna wear?"
"This?" Johnny says.
Judgemental silence.
Seriously? Johnny's got one of his Eagle Fang shirts on, and while it's thoroughly sweated through, he doesn't really see the point in changing. If LaRusso doesn't wanna be seen with him in his regular clothes, he can bring someone else to his next hockey game.
Then Miguel cautiously suggests, "Well, you should at least bring a nice sweater."
"A sweater? It's a million fucking degrees and you think I should put on a sweater?"
"Diaz is right," Robby says, even though he's still pretending he's not even listening. "It's an ice rink in California. They're gonna blast the AC like their life depends on it."
Hm. If they're actually agreeing, there might be something to it.
But there's no time to further discuss it. Johnny pulls into the driveway in front of Shannon's apartment. "Okay, we're here. That'll be three hundred dollars."
"Yeah, yeah," Robby says, and his grin is only a little bit ironic as he climbs out of the backseat. "Have fun with Sensei LaRusso!"
*
Johnny decides not to bring a sweater. It's ninety-five degrees. If LaRusso doesn't bring a sweater, Johnny will look like a clueless loser. If it's really that cold at the ice rink, he'll just have to tough it out. It probably won't be. Miguel's probably exaggerating.
Shortly before eight, he decides that he will put on a different shirt after all. The one he wore to training today was straight-up wet by the time he got home, and the one he put on after showering is already half-sweaty, too. (His apartment AC is absolute garbage. Miguel always jokes that it only works on days that are prime numbers.) He's put off doing laundry just a bit too long - the heat is crazy, he barely has the motivation to get up and make himself food these days - so he dumps his laundry basket out on the couch and searches for something that's not super stinky.
That mission turns out to be a total fail, but he finally finds a few fresh clothes at the back of his closet. He settles for a simple black T-Shirt. It only has a few tiny holes at the bottom seam, and only if you look real close. Nice.
He's barely got time to put his jeans back on before someone knocks at the door.
Eight o'clock sharp. Of course. LaRusso is annoying that way.
"One second!" Johnny opens the door, already grabbing his keys and phone. "Hey."
LaRusso smiles at him. "Hi."
He is wearing a dark red T-shirt. No sweater. Ha.
He's probably been to a million hockey games, and he didn't bring a sweater. Duh. Ninety-five degrees. Why would he?
"Did you have a fashion show?" LaRusso grins, nodding over at the couch.
"Fuck off."
LaRusso doesn't need to know how behind Johnny is on his stupid laundry schedule. So Johnny turns his back as he locks the door and then follows LaRusso over to the parking lot. They've barely walked five steps when the window of the opposite apartment opens and Miguel waves out. "Have a good time!"
Johnny rolls his eyes. "Go back inside, Diaz!" he yells. "Mind your own damn business."
But LaRusso is smiling at him when Johnny falls into the seat next to him.
"You told Miguel?"
"Yeah. His yaya is making... the thing with the potatoes. I'm giving up a killer dinner for you."
"I'll do my best to make it up to you, how does that sound?"
Johnny doesn't know if that means beer or hotdogs, but he's definitely on board.
LaRusso smiles, then grabs onto the back of Johnny's seat as he puts the car in reverse. Johnny watches him without really knowing why. It's not like needs supervision to pull out of a parking spot.
"At least Diaz is being nice about it," Johnny says when LaRusso finally turns back to the front. "Robby straight-up didn't believe me."
A half-swallowed grin from LaRusso, then a chuckle. "Okay. Didn't know you sent out a newsletter."
"Didn't know it was a secret," Johnny shoots back, and yeah, he sounds a bit defensive... But LaRusso is the one acting weird here, not Johnny. (No weirder than usual, to be fair. Just regular Daniel LaRusso type weird.)
"It's not," LaRusso says carefully, doing the exact same overly concentrated blinker-and-look-over-the-shoulder thing Johnny did to the kids earlier so he could avoid looking at them. "It's just... I honestly thought you'd cancel on me, so..."
"Thought about it," Johnny says casually, even though he didn't. But he should probably make it clear that this is a chill hangout before LaRusso starts pulling out glittery BFF necklaces or something. "Anyways. I'm here, right? You got any music?"
Daniel does not have any tapes in his car - he doesn't even have a slot for tapes, which is hella weird. Johnny complains about it for a bit, then he starts messing around with the radio until he finds something fun.
The drive to the stadium is faster than expected, and the parking situation's actually not that bad.
When LaRusso gets out of the car, he steps over to the trunk and pulls out two sweatshirts. One of them he hands to Johnny.
"Knew you wouldn't bring one," he smirks.
Damn. Now he's gonna have to sit around in Daniel LaRusso's goddamn sweatshirt all night? It smells freshly washed, too. Like he's trying to remind Johnny of his laundry disaster.
Dickhead.
LaRusso crosses his arms.
"You're welcome?"
"You sure that's gonna fit me?" Johnny teases. "What is this, a women's medium?"
LaRusso puffs up like an offended little bird and Johnny cackles.
"You make it way too easy, man. Sorry."
"No, you aren't." LaRusso slams the trunk shut. "I know you aren't. You're just lucky we're already here."
*
About five minutes in, Johnny gives up on trying to follow the game - and the puck. He surrenders to the whims of the scoreboard and lets the fast pace and fun atmosphere sweep him along. Best part of the night so far: LaRusso has bought food and drinks for the both of them. Worst part of the night so far: He absolutely needs the I-told-you-so sweater. It could be worse, all things considered. First of all, it fits. Also, it's dark blue and doesn't have any stupid print on it, which is better than Johnny expected. If LaRusso had pulled one of his weird workout jackets out of the trunk, Johnny might have actually gone home.
LaRusso will absolutely not stop explaining things to Johnny even after Johnny's told him he gets it (he definitely doesn't, but that's none of LaRusso's business). But he seems happy, going on about who got traded in which year, which goalie is better, which coaches are garbage and why that penalty was the right call, and Johnny's happy to let him talk. If he plays his cards right, he might get some after-game drinks out of this. And honestly, it's kind of fun seeing LaRusso so excited, even though Johnny can't make heads or tails of half of what he says. The fact that everyone has a super dumb nickname, for example. One time he interrupts to ask which one of two players LaRusso mentioned is cooler - just to learn that they are, in fact, the same guy.
Hockey's fucking weird. Fun, though. He won't argue with that.
It's interesting that LaRusso is so into this sport. Hockey's ruthless and brutal. Going after your opponents for fucking with your teammates is usually an immediate disqualification in most sports, but in hockey there's a whole rulebook on how to do it. And LaRusso is all about fighting fair and being the bigger person, but he also has enough suppressed anger to melt the whole fucking stadium to a crisp if he wants to. So, yeah. It's interesting, LaRusso and hockey. Johnny likes it.
Johnny watches a guy get body-slammed onto the ice, and immediately nudges LaRusso's leg with his.
"You and me."
Daniel doesn't even blink. "Yup, and we both know which one you are."
Honestly, Johnny's glad he came. This is kinda fun.
After the second third, Daniel buys himself a chocolate-covered pretzel.
"You want one, too?" he says, turning to Johnny.
"Nah."
They barely make it five steps away from the stand before --
"Can I have a piece?"
"Are you serious?"
Johnny shrugs innocently. "I didn't want a whole pretzel, man. I just wanna try."
LaRusso gives him a withering look before conceding that he'll give Johnny a 'very small bite' and then arguing the whole way back to the seats about how small a small bite is allowed to be. Ugh. This fucking guy.
They sit down, and soon LaRusso's forgotten all about the fact that this wasn't technically meant to be a shared dessert. He's busy telling a story about a guy who got an ice skate in the face, and Johnny elbows him.
"Guess I'm lucky you were barefoot back then, huh?"
LaRusso smiles like the little shit he is. "Trust me, if I'd had skates on, I wouldn't have gone for your face."
"Yeah, right," Johnny scoffs between bites. Damn, this pretzel is good.
"Hey, watch it," LaRusso says, grabbing the hoodie strings which are dangling dangerously close to the chocolate sauce, but it's too late. The left side has been dunked into the chocolate, and Johnny, momentarily forgetting that this isn't his hoodie, does what he always does: He sticks the string into his mouth.
LaRusso's face completely shuts down.
Johnny feels himself flush, but makes a dramatic show of rolling his eyes anyways. "Chill," he murmurs. "I have a washing machine."
"Is the washing machine your mouth?" LaRusso says in a voice so horrified it's almost funny. "What the fuck, Johnny?"
"Sorry. Instinct."
It takes LaRusso a good two minutes of stunned silence to recover. Johnny has to admit he sort of misses the explanations, but the game is also pretty fun as is. He finally has enough time to look at the game instead of LaRusso. The players are all so tall that the one regular-sized guy looks like a kid in between them. Johnny chuckles as he sips on his beer.
"Five dollars that he fights dirtier than the rest of them," he says, pointing at the little guy, and that finally seems to bring LaRusso back to life. He laughs a bit, and throws Johnny a look that he can't really figure out.
As if on command, another guy slams into the small one, resulting in a bigger teammate to smack the attacker onto the ground. He spins across the ice like a starfish, but the defender doesn't get to enjoy that laugh for long. Someone else comes to avenge Starfish Guy, and suddenly it's a gigantic brawl.
Finally, one of the small guy's teammates grabs onto the defender and starts talking him down. Kinda reminds Johnny of him and Bobby, back in the day.
Wait, shit. He's been wanting to bring that up.
"Hey. I have a suggestion."
LaRusso looks amused. "Should I be scared?"
"I was thinking we should figure out which kids are reset fighters and which are context fighters. That way we can coach better."
"What on earth is a reset fighter?"
"You know. Some people need the score to get into higher gear. They need the context of 'you're two points behind' to get their shit together. And some people freak out when they think of it that way. I mean, you remember our final fight. I panicked when I was behind, cause I didn't lose a single point the year before, and I..."
Fought dirty. Listened to Kreese. Acted like a complete piece of shit.
"I fucked it up," Johnny summarizes. "So I would have needed that mental reset. It doesn't matter what the board actually says, in my mind it has to return to zero-zero every time. Otherwise I freak out and do something dumb. Bobby did that for me a couple of times. And I bet some of the kids could use that trick, too. Demetri for example. Or Bert."
"Huh," Daniel says. "I've never thought about it that way."
The rest of the break, they talk coaching strategies. Finally, Johnny asks if he can do his only defense exercise (tennis ball shooting machine, obviously) while the kids are standing on the pond platform, and to his great surprise Daniel does not immediately call him an irresponsible idiot. Instead, he pats Johnny's thigh and ask him to please never bring that up again, which isn't exactly a hell yes. But hey. He only suggested it for a laugh anyways.
And something about the fact that LaRusso is so comfortable around him makes him weirdly happy.
*
Johnny's not immediately sold on the bar LaRusso takes him to, but then the waitress brings their drinks over with a bowl of free popcorn, and that's a pretty hard to argue with.
"Sweet," Johnny says. "Free snacks? How'd you find this place?"
"How can you still be hungry?" LaRusso says fascinatedly. "You had a burger and nachos. And half my pretzel!"
"'m not hungry," Johnny says with his mouth full. "I'm snacky. It's different."
"Snacky."
"Yeah. Robby taught me that."
LaRusso looks somewhere between fond and concerned as he clears his throat. "Oh, speaking of Robby-- Would you be okay with me giving him a couple of driving lessons this month?"
"I thought Shannon was teaching him."
"Right, but they're doing it with Shannon's car, and she has an automatic. And like I told Sam when she was learning, if you can't drive stick--"
"--you can't fucking drive," Johnny nods. Obviously.
"Exactly. I know most cars are automatic these days, but if there's ever an emergency and the only way to get to the hospital or to the nearest town is a car with gear shift..."
"Nah, I hear you. You can teach him if you want."
Robby's relationship with Johnny isn't exactly photo album material. They don't do long hugs and matching Christmas pajamas. But it's okay these days. Definitely solid enough that a couple of driving lessons with LaRusso won't ruin it.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I can teach him other stuff. Give him girl advice."
"That's a threat if I've ever heard one," LaRusso laughs, but at least the concern is finally gone. "You know what, I'll trade you the driving lessons."
"Are you saying I don't give good advice?"
LaRusso gives him a look.
"Fuck off. Here's a freebie for you. If I don't answer a question, it's because I'm trying to avoid answering. Right? But if a woman doesn't answer a question, it's because she knows you already know the answer and she's pissed at you for asking dumb questions. Took me forever to figure that out."
"Johnny Lawrence, PhD in women's studies."
"Hey, I'm a complex guy," Johnny says, grabbing another handful of the free popcorn. And yeah, he's not saying he's great with women or whatever. But there's more to him that meets the eye and LaRusso knows that, even though he loves pretending he doesn't. "How about we play that lying game? Where you have to guess what's true and what isn't."
"You mean two truths and a lie?"
For a moment that lasts seven years but also half a second, their hands meet in the popcorn bowl.
"I bet you wouldn't get a single one right," Johnny says.
And he's got him. LaRusso's never been able to leave a challenge alone.
"What do I get if I do?", he counters.
"Nothing, cause you're not gonna win."
"We'll see about that."
Johnny thinks for a bit, wondering which facts about him might surprise LaRusso the most, or at least make him laugh. Finally, he's got a good collection. Now he just needs to change one slightly and he has a good setup.
"Okay. Here we go. When I was twelve, I wanted to be a magician, like with bunnies and hats and shit. In my yearbook for senior year, I was voted most likely to become a movie star. And I got kicked outta college because I showed up to finals in my underwear."
"I was in the same goddamn yearbook, Johnny" Daniel retorts with a smug expression. "You could at least try to make this hard for me, Mr. Prettiest Eyes."
Shit. Yeah. He didn't think of that.
"Okay, but the finals thing -- was that a bet? Did you not like the professor? What happened?"
Ha. He knew this was a good one. "Well, the full story is I was still drunk and high from the night before, and I thought I could sober up if I jumped in the fountain real quick. But when I got out again I forgot my clothes on the lawn. Just walked into that exam dripping wet, acting like that was totally normal."
"So you showed up to your finals in wet underwear?"
"Wet and white," Johnny corrects.
"Johnny!" LaRusso laughs, burying his face in his hands. "God, that's terrible! But they probably still talk about that at the reunions."
"You bet. Okay, your turn."
With any luck, Johnny will also get an embarrassing LaRusso story out of this.
"My turn..." LaRusso drinks a sip of wine before leaning back in his chair. There's still a lingering taste of laughter in his face. "Alright. I've never taken an actual vacation to Italy, I've only gone for business. I always wanted a cat as a kid but we couldn't get one because of allergies. And I play the piano."
"All lies," Johnny says with zero hesitation, because obviously. "You went to Italy on your honeymoon and you had a shop cat for a while, at your bonsai store with Miyagi. You talk at me all damn day, you think I don't listen for some blackmail material?"
"The last one could be true," Daniel says lightly. "You don't think I could be a pianist?"
"You wouldn't add just one extra lie, though. You're way too intense for that. All or nothing."
They stare into each other's eyes for about ten seconds before LaRusso clears his throat.
"Guitar. I play guitar. But I'm totally out of practice."
"And there's the blackmail material," Johnny says contently. "I'm gonna tell all the kids until they annoy you into playing and there's nothing you can do to stop me."
"I don't think you understand how blackmail works."
"No, I'm gonna blackmail you with how bad of a guitar player you are."
Daniel kicks him under the table, and Johnny grins.
He can't do all lies or all truths now, because LaRusso would obviously know. And he can't put the lie in the middle again. It'll have to go at the end. He's gonna lie about what happened at Applebee's.
"My worst date ever was in '92 when some chick took me to her grandpa's funeral. I do think your karate is pretentious as fuck, but I also think it's badass. And I..."
Daniel sets his glass down and tilts his head, laser-focused like he's trying to look inside Johnny with his Miyagi magic. It's weird, but not necessarily bad-weird. He's got these giant brown eyes. If he were a chick, he'd be pretty cute, honestly.
And for some reason Johnny thinks: They should do this more often.
"I think we should do this more often," he says, and now he's got three truths, but hey, who cares.
Daniel smiles. "I don't know about the funeral, but that seems too crazy to make up. And I know the other two are true. So I'll say... all true." He puts his chin on his folded hands and leans forward, not even waiting for Johnny to confirm he's right. "So... what's the best date you've ever been on?"
"Can't wait to tell you once it happens," Johnny jokes, looking away. He doesn't think he's been on a proper date in ten years. Daniel doesn't need to know that, but it looks like he understands. He gives Johnny one of those soft smiles. Like they've known each other forever, and not from kicking each other's ass in high school.
Daniel takes a sip of wine and lets his hand linger on the stem.
"Alright, but now I wanna hear the funeral date story."
"It was fucking wild, man," Johnny chuckles. "She tells me to meet me at this address, right? But when I pull up, it's a graveyard. I think she hated her family, so she probably thought me showing up in my Guns and Roses shirt would piss them off or something. Then one of my condoms fell outta my pocket and the priest got real mad at me. And then she wanted to fuck me in a crypt, so I got the hell outta there."
"In a crypt," LaRusso repeats incredulously.
"Yeah. Those graveyard buildings with the columns." He eats a handful of popcorn and finds LaRusso is staring at him again.
"What?"
"Nothing." He chuckles. "Some people bring a knife to a gunfight. Johnny Lawrence brings condoms to a funeral."
"I didn't know, asshole!"
They go another two rounds, and LaRusso doesn't lose a single point.
Damn. Is Johnny really that predictable?
Eventually, they transition into talking about their first concerts and trash-talking the music that's playing at the bar. Johnny doesn't think he's ever taken this long to finish a single beer. But he probably shouldn't read too much into that.
*
They go home after the first drink. LaRusso is driving and Johnny doesn't wanna get totally fucked up now that he's actually having a good time. He can always ask Daniel if he wants more beer once they get to his place. Daniel can get an Uber from there or something.
He opens the car door for Johnny and Johnny says 'thank you' in a really bad British accent without really knowing why. But it makes LaRusso laugh, so... Who cares, really? They drive to Johnny's place with the windows down, and Johnny sings along to Bohemian Rhapsody in at least twelve different voices which are all equally off-key.
Daniel smiles wide as he taps the blinker and looks over his shoulder and pointedly doesn't look at him.
They pull into the driveway around midnight.
Daniel shuts off the engine, and they both climb out of the car.
“I actually had fun," LaRusso says, leaning against the car as Johnny walks over to his side.
“What do you mean, you actually had fun? This was your idea!”
“Yeah, and I hoped it might be good... but it’s always a bit of a gamble, right? You and me. Are we gonna get along, are we gonna get in a fight…”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Johnny quips, and catches a soft expression on LaRusso's face.
“Yeah, me neither.”
Okay, maybe LaRusso didn't just ask him to hang out because he was out of options. Maybe Johnny didn't just say yes out of pity. Maybe they are friends.
Ugh. Fucking typical. It's not enough that LaRusso owns the place where Johnny teaches, and that he has a better relationship with Johnny's son, and that he won that goddamn trophy in the eighties. Now he's gotta try and befriend Johnny, too? And make sure Johnny has a really good time on top of it all? Asshole.
"I had fun, too," Johnny grumblingly admits.
"Yeah, I know," LaRusso says smugly, and leans in for a hug. Now Johnny is kind of glad he did end up changing shirts. Honestly - LaRusso gives pretty good hugs. Johnny's gonna shamelessly exploit that while he can, even though it's still way too hot out, and the only acceptable way to say hello and goodbye in this heat should be finger guns from a fifty foot distance. Johnny's skin runs hot immediately, but he still holds on for another half-second.
Oh, wait. He's still wearing LaRusso's sweatshirt. He should probably give that back. And he should probably invite LaRusso in before he hops back in the car and takes off.
Johnny pulls back from the hug just a little bit and suddenly feels a hand cupping his cheek. LaRusso's not moving, just looking at him, his eyes big and dark and full of scary things like hope and affection. What the fuck. He's trying to kiss Johnny.
Johnny pulls out of the hug with a start and stumbles a few steps back. “What the fuck, LaRusso?”
“Sorry. I thought you wanted to—"
“Kiss you? Why the hell would I wanna kiss you?”
LaRusso throws up his hands in surrender. “Look, I’m sorry if that was too fast. I just.. the date went well, so I thought, maybe…”
“What date?”
"Our date. This date."
For a few seconds, they both just stare at each other in complete shock.
“I... I asked you out..." LaRusso finally stammers, completely dumbfounded. "I asked you out and you said yes!”
That's just ridiculous. Johnny crosses his arms.
“You didn’t ask me out. You just asked if I wanted to... go out with you… Okay, maybe you kind of asked me out, but I didn't know you meant, like, on a date! How the fuck was I supposed to know that?"
“But you flirted with me the entire time! What the hell did you think was happening?”
“Well..." Johnny swallows defiantly. "You’re not hooking up with any babes right now, and you don’t have any friends. I thought I was your last chance at a social life. Also, when was I flirting?”
LaRusso raises his eyebrows, and honestly, that's just mean.
Like, how is this Johnny's fault? Just because he ate half of LaRusso's dessert and wore LaRusso's sweatshirt... Just because Johnny complimented LaRusso a bit and told him a few secrets... Just because he let LaRusso pay for all the food and hold doors and pick him up at his place and shit, doesn't mean that this is a date.
I mean, if a chick had done all that, he'd see how LaRusso would come to that conclusion. But that doesn't make any sense, because even if he had the hots for LaRusso, which is a completely dumb and ridiculous idea, he wouldn't be the girl. Obviously. Which means he wasn't flirting.
He nervously looks at the ground. Okay, maybe he was flirting a little bit. But for fun. Like you do with your buddies. Not because he was trying to get laid or anything. Not because he wanted LaRusso to make out with him in the goddamn parking lot. Like... what? How would that even-- Did he really think-- This is crazy, right? Like, throughout the whole night, when Daniel was looking at him, was he thinking about kissing Johnny?
Johnny's brain is pretty much just loud static and dial-up internet noises at this point. He bites his lip and looks back up at Daniel, who still looks like he was just run over by one of his fancy electric cars.
"I mean..." Daniel says weakly. "Maybe I just misinterpreted--"
“So you’re gay?” Johnny interrupts him, which sends Daniel into a whole new crisis.
“What are you talking about? Yes! I'm bisexual. I told you that a month ago, Johnny!”
“What? No, you didn't.”
Does Daniel think he's stupid or something? And when the fuck did Johnny start thinking of him as Daniel, anyway?
“Yes, I did! That day the new gis arrived and you helped me unpack."
And sure, Johnny remembers that day, but definitely not that conversation. Cause if Daniel had told him, he would have definitely asked if this was a fucking date.
"I remember that pretty damn well, Johnny. Because it went about ten times better than I expected. I thought you might run for the hills once I told you I also like men. But you said something like, ‘back in my day we didn’t have fancy names for it. We just called it talented.’ So I said, ‘okay, so how talented are you?’ and you said ‘hella’!”
Johnny frowns, trying to remember, and yeah, the rest of that conversation sounds vaguely familiar, but he doesn't recall Daniel's sex life coming up at all. He remembers Daniel telling him... Oh. Damn.
“I thought you meant the thing with both hands," Johnny says confusedly. "Cause you got good left punches.”
Daniel blinks rapidly. “Ambidextrous?”
“That’s like basically the same word,” Johnny mutters. There's an x in both of them, and a 'bi'-something, and really, Johnny doesn't know that sort of shit, what was Daniel thinking? How is Johnny supposed to know the right word for not being completely useless with one of your hands? Or for being gay but still wanting to bang chicks? That was definitely not a thing when Johnny was growing up. Was it?
Why didn't Daniel just say that he likes to bang dudes? That would have been pretty hard to misunderstand, even for Johnny.
Daniel is incredulously pacing up and down the parking lot while rubbing a hand over his face.
“Oh my God. I'm sorry. This is so embarrassing. I was flirting with you for a whole month, and the whole time you didn't--” He looks up at Johnny. "You really didn't know?"
"Nope," Johnny says, and adds "Sorry", even though he's not really sure what for. But maybe if he apologizes, his face will stop burning. "So you thought I was also... bisexual."
Daniel shrugs helplessly. "Yeah."
Hm. He doesn't know which part of this evening freaks him out the most. The fact that Daniel likes dick. The fact that Daniel thought Johnny did, too, and didn't even make fun of him for it. The fact that he sucked chocolate off the string of Daniel's hoodie right in front of him (yeah, that's in the top three for sure).
Daniel's smile as he leans in, saying 'What was the best date you've ever been on?'
Johnny just went on the best date of his life without even knowing it was a fucking date in the first place. Jesus.
"But you aren't?" Daniel says cautiously.
And yeah, that's the weirdest part, hands down. The fact that apparently, being gay isn't a black-and-white thing. Johnny always thought you went one way or the other. And if you liked girls, that meant you didn't like guys, because that would kinda defeat the point of liking girls, right? But apparently, that's not even a thing? What the hell? That's fucking wild. Why the hell did nobody tell him about this? They should be putting that shit on billboards. The Mormons were at his doorstep just last week going on about 'the good news'. You'd think that this bisexual stuff would have come up at some point!
Usually, at least Miguel has his back for all those new things. Miguel taught Johnny that 1234 is a bad password and that there is no real Nigerian prince trying to help Johnny make a fortune, but he never once mentioned you can bang girls and dudes? That seems like a way more useful piece of knowledge. Honestly, that kid needs to get his priorities sorted.
Shit. Wait.
"Miguel thinks we're on a date," Johnny says slowly. "Robby thinks... Well, Robby thinks I'm a coward."
Daniel blinks. "What?"
"I said we were hanging out, and he was all like 'bullshit'. I thought he didn't buy that we were chill with each other, but he probably thought I was too much of a pussy to admit we're going on a date. Damn it."
"Well, at least he'll get a good laugh out of it once you tell him what really happened. I don't think it'll bother him that I tried to take you on a date." Daniel pauses for a moment. "Does it... does it bother you?"
Johnny thinks about it for a moment. He kinda feels bad that Daniel made all this effort and Johnny had no idea this whole time. He feels like an idiot for not asking Daniel to elaborate on that day they were unpacking the gis. And he's kicking himself for not realizing how obviously different things have been since that afternoon. Daniel sitting closer to him, hugging him, laughing at the dumb shit that Johnny says (at least some of it). Duh. He was obviously crushing pretty hard, and Johnny acted like a blind idiot.
But it doesn't bother him. Now that the initial shock has passed, he honestly thinks this whole situation is... Well. It's a lot of things, some of them very confusing, but it's mostly pretty funny.
"Nah." He grins. "Who'd have thought you have such a big fat crush on me."
Daniel sighs, but he sounds more relieved than anything. "Oh great, so that's gonna be a thing for the next thirty years. Thanks a lot."
"And you want to impress me..."
"Yeah, we both know that all I need to do to impress you is get on the mat."
"You want to bang me," Johnny teases.
"Yes, even though you worded it like that," Daniel counters. "Which is the eighth world wonder if you ask me."
"I mean, I've had pretty bad dry spells before, but I gotta tell you, you made some crazy effort just to get laid."
Daniel gives him a look that's borderline offended. "If I just wanted to get laid, I wouldn’t have waited a month to make a move.”
Johnny swallows nervously, and suddenly the ground feels less solid under his feet. "What, you would have seduced me right there at the dojo?" he jokes, even though he's not sure what the punchline of that joke even is.
And Daniel just shrugs. "Well, now I'm glad I didn't. That would have been a rather crazy change in topics from your perspective, seeing as you literally never listen to me."
The balls on this guy! He still thinks Johnny wants to be wined and dined and spoiled and complimented and... seduced and... And yeah, maybe he does, but so what? Does that give Daniel the right to be so goddamn smug about it? Hell no.
"You don't listen to me either," Johnny blurts out before he can help it. Which is probably the stupidest possible course of action, but hey, that's where Johnny feels most comfortable. Home ice advantage.
"What?"
"Told you what it means when I don't answer a question."
Daniel stands there for a few seconds, just processing, and then finally repeats that question from earlier. The one Johnny never answered.
"Are you bisexual?"
Johnny shrugs defensively. "How the hell should I know? You just invented that like... three minutes ago."
"Okay. Are you... are you into me, then? Specifically?"
And what the hell is Johnny supposed to say to that? 'Fucking maybe?' doesn't sound like a good answer. Cause yeah, he had a really great time tonight, and he meant it when he said he wants to do this again. He meant it when he thought 'this' was a night out with a new friend, and he still means it now that it turns out 'this' is a goddamn date. A date with Daniel LaRusso.
Johnny wants to pick Daniel up on his old motorbike. He wants to steal half of Daniel's dessert and stand around looking pretty while Daniel puts his credit card on the counter. He wants to wear Daniel's sweaters, but more than that he wants Daniel to wear his sweaters. He wants to put his arm around Daniel at the movie theatre like a possessive dickhead and he wants Daniel to make a big show about rolling his eyes before cozying up to him. He wants Robby to pretend he's annoyed when Johnny starts talking about Daniel and he wants Miguel to be exhaustingly supportive, and he wants Sam to threaten him with dismemberment if he even thinks about hurting her Dad.
He wants to invite Daniel in for a glass of wine knowing full well he does not have a sip of wine in the house, and he wants Daniel to know that and say yes anyways. And he's not really sure what the word for that is, and what that means, and he still thinks boobs are pretty great, but he also kind of wants to know what grabbing Daniel's ass feels like. So what is he supposed to say?
The night flashes by him in bright pictures. Daniel's hand on the stem of his wine glass. Johnny nudging Daniel's leg with his knee. Their hands touching as Daniel hands him the navy sweater. His piercing expression while they were playing two truths and a lie, and how Johnny thought something like 'if he was a chick, he'd be pretty cute'. Like a total bonehead. And then he thinks of Daniel's hand on the back of Johnny's car seat as he backs out of the parking spot. And the feeling he remembers this time is worse than cute. He was actually a bit turned on.
I was flirting, I just had no idea I was allowed to mean it.
Daniel's face is cautious. He's quiet for a few seconds.
Then he says, "Okay, how about this? Reset. Zero-zero. The real score doesn't matter, your score is zero-zero. Right? We just got out of the car, we said goodbye. It doesn't matter what happened so far, it's the beginning of the fight, and you can do whatever you--"
Before he can think twice about it, Johnny grabs a handful of Daniel's shirt and pulls him in.
To Daniel's credit - he's got killer reaction time. (You gotta, if you wanna fight defense effectively.) He grabs onto Johnny arms and pulls him closer, and then their lips crash together with a despair you can taste. (Or maybe that's blood. Johnny was so eager he might have accidentally bitten Daniel's lip.) Daniel's lips are soft and fiery; and he kisses with the dark burn of a smokey whisky.
His arms are around Johnny's neck and he sighs into Johnny's mouth, and he's warm and solid against him, and Johnny can tell he's smirking about something. Now that the floodgates of emotions are fully open, Johnny realizes with growing horror that it turns him on more than it pisses him off. Okay. Damn. He wraps his arms around Daniel's body as Daniel's tongue sinks into his mouth, and this is just... yeah, this is sinfully hot. Who knew that making out with LaRusso would feel like this? They could have been kissing all evening, damn it. Johnny could have cut Daniel's sixteen hour hockey podcast down to two and a half hours at least. (Not that his enthusiasm wasn't cute as fuck, but damn. Kissing him is a whole new dimension of hell yes.)
His hands are everywhere and his mouth is insatiable, and Johnny's just trying to stay alive as he's being pulled under by his own lust. He kisses back. Harder. Hungrier.
Johnny is making out with Daniel LaRusso in the parking lot of his fucked up apartment where the AC never works and his dryer always dies halfway through the program and the shower feels like standing in a hailstorm and he's so happy he could fucking cry.
(He won't, cause he's not a pussy. Just saying. He could.)
"I didn't think that would work," Daniel pants, pulling away for a moment with a bright smile.
Johnny laughs. "I'm telling you man. Reset fighters. It's a thing."
"So... uh... what'd you think?" Daniel teases.
Like it's not fucking obvious that Johnny was pretty into that kiss. But of course Daniel has to be annoying about it. Fuck him. (Damn. Johnny might actually fuck him. Eventually. Tonight. Maybe not tonight. He should probably google some shit first.) Johnny knows he's grinning like an idiot, but he's not even mad about it.
"Speechless, huh?" Daniel brags. "I'll take it."
"Shut up," Johnny says, and pulls him in for another kiss, and damn, is that a good way to win an argument.
He lets his hands wander down LaRusso's back, and LaRusso doesn't stop him, he just chuckles a bit while threading his fingers through Johnny's hair and kissing him; deeper this time, slower. Then Johnny slides both his hands into the back pockets of LaRusso's pants and pulls him closer. LaRusso promptly grabs him by the hips, slams him against the side of he car and proceeds to kiss the living daylights out of him while Johnny fondles his ass through his jeans.
Goddamn. Daniel's really selling him on this I-also-like-men thing.
"Okay, so how long have you been keeping this bisexual shit from me?" he murmurs into Daniel's hair when they pull apart to catch their breath. "And if you say nineteen-eighty-four, I'll fucking bite you."
Daniel laughs as he looks up, and Johnny finally notices that his lower lip gleams red under the streetlights. "I think it's a bit too late for that threat."
"Damn," Johnny laughs. "Sorry. Didn't mean to."
But Daniel just cups his face again, and this time Johnny leans in instead of pulling away. The initial explosion has burned out into a feverish haze, and Johnny strokes every inch of Daniel's body he can reach, trapped in between him and the car. Daniel runs his tongue along Johnny's upper lip before leaning back in for another aching kiss. It goes on like this for a while, just Daniel's hands and Daniel's cologne and Daniel's warmth and absolutely all of him bleeding into Johnny until there's nothing left but the anchor of their kisses.
Johnny finally takes off the sweater and throws it through the open window of Daniel's car.
Daniel chuckles. "Johnny Lawrence," he says in a serious voice as his hands trail over Johnny's chest. "Do you wanna go on another date with me?"
"You wanna come in for a glass of wine?" Johnny counters.
"Since when do you have wine at your place?"
"I don't. Just thought it sounded better than 'wanna mess around with a guy who's only been ambidextrous for five minutes'."
"Do you mean bi?"
"Do I? I'm pretty good with both my hands, if you know what I'm saying."
Daniel gives him an absolute knockout combination of a kiss and a playful smirk. "A glass of wine sounds great."
Oh, wow. He really is in love with Johnny, huh?
Like, for real. Damn.
Johnny grins wide.
"You wanna be my boyfriend so bad..."
"Don't know what's gotten into me."
Johnny shrugs. "I'm a catch, man. I got a big dick and a great personality."
"I've yet to see proof of either of those things," Daniel retorts, sounding deeply unimpressed, but he locks the car behind him and practically drags Johnny into the apartment. In the bedroom, Johnny slams Daniel against the wall to kiss him thoroughly, and through Daniel's excited panting he can hear the TV falling off the wall in the living room. They freeze, then Johnny snorts.
"I think the only person who loves me more than you is the guy who sells me all these garbage TVs."
"Fuck that guy," Daniel says, and leans in to give him a hickey, which is so stupidly high school of him that Johnny can't help but hum with pleasure.
*
It's awkward and it's over too soon, and Johnny has absolutely no idea what he's doing.
But they're laughing the whole time, and something about the way Daniel settles into his side once they're done tells him that he's about to get lots of practice. Besides, Johnny's floating so deeply in his orgasm high that he doesn't really care if he embarrassed himself a bit. He definitely made sure Daniel had his fun, too.
"So when are you taking me out again?" Johnny says smugly, pulling him in closer, and yeah, this whole wrapping Daniel in his arms thing feels just as satisfying as he thought it would. He's warm and heavy, and he smells great, and he better not suggest leaving any time soon or Johnny's gonna riot. "You gonna wine and dine me like a nice Italian boy?"
Daniel narrows his eyes. "Haven't decided yet. Last time I took you out on a date you were pretty ungrateful. Maybe I'll just come by and skip right to the handjobs again."
"What, just cause we hooked up on the first date, you think I'm that easy?"
"I think you're that into me."
Johnny doesn't know what's worse, the fact that Daniel thinks he can just casually say shit like that or the fact that he's not entirely wrong. Dickhead.
"Nah. I want a real date. You're gonna pick me up and buy me dinner and then I'm gonna win you a teddy bear at Golf and Stuff. And then you can try to seduce me."
"Got it. I'm gonna be a perfect gentleman only for absolute class act Johnny Lawrence to ask if he can fuck me in my car."
"Maybe. You're really hot when you back out of a parking spot."
Daniel laughs. "Okay. Haven't heard that one before."
Yeah, right.
"Bullshit. You practiced that, right? With the arms, and with the concentration, and the hand on the wheel... And your neck does that thing..."
"You're serious? That's what does it for you? Me putting my car in reverse?"
Johnny shrugs, a bit embarrassed but not enough to not double down. "Yeah."
Daniel smiles wide as he runs his hands over the sides of Johnny's waist. "Oh, I'm gonna make climate change so much worse. I'm gonna park twelve times during a five minute drive, I don't even care."
They kiss again. Yeah, he's never gonna get tired of this. And he can't wait to derail Daniel's romantic date ideas by getting them both arrested for public indecency on a random beach. Looks like he's got weekend plans after all.
Suddenly, Johnny's phone rings on the nightstand.
"One second." Daniel pulls out of the kiss and grabs the phone. "It's Miguel. You wanna get it?"
Johnny's ninety-five percent sure that Miguel is safe at home and wants to ask about how the date went. But... well. Ninety-five, not a hundred.
He picks up the call.
"Diaz? You okay?"
"Hey sensei!" Miguel says brightly. "How did your date go?"
Johnny groans. "First of all, no reason to ask me that in the middle of the goddamn night. Also thanks for not telling me it was a date. I had no fucking clue until four hours in."
"What?"
"Long story."
"Okay, I'll come over. One second. I just gotta put on socks."
"No!" Johnny yells, panicking. They're not dressed, and looking back, he's not entirely sure if he closed the door properly on the way in. These kids are gonna be the death of him. "That wasn't a fucking invitation!"
"Why not?" Miguel whines. "Tomorrow's Saturday, I don't have school or anything. Come on, I wanna hear the story. You're awake, too. What's the big deal?"
Johnny rubs his hand across his face, and he's just decided to hang up on Miguel and barricade the door like the adult he is, when Miguel gasps and bursts out, "Oh my God, is he staying over?"
"Shut up! Go to bed, Miguel."
"Okay, okay, but at least tell me if it went well!" Johnny can almost hear Miguel pouting through the phone. "I have a thirty dollar bet with Robby."
Daniel stretches out his hand with a mischievous grin, and Johnny, thinking 'oh, what the hell', hands the phone over.
"Go to bed, Miguel," Daniel repeats and hangs up the phone.