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pilvimarja · 3 years

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Prompt used: Nightmare

(Post-TKK3 AU, Daniel is a little chubby in this and Johnny is into it, accidental kink discovery, mild dom/sub undertones, messy BJ, mild feminization, internalized homophobia, use of the f-slur, Johnny's budding drinking problem)

Johnny takes a sip of lukewarm beer and points the remote at the TV to switch from one late night infomercial to another. He should be asleep like Daniel who’s snoring at his side, bathed in a spill of neon from the No Vacancy sign across the parking lot, but he’ll need a few more beers to numb the restless noise in his head.

The motel is even shittier than last time with its cigarette-yellowed wallpapers and garish color scheme, but there’s no way Johnny's sneaking another guy into his dorm, and the walls at Mr. Miyagi’s house are made of paper. Literally.

So yeah, it’s a shithole, but the lady at the front desk asked no questions, and Johnny gets to ignore the budding identity crisis these clandestine meetings with LaRusso try to spring on him.

He hasn’t gone steady with anyone since Ali, and he’s not about to call Daniel LaRusso his boyfriend, because he’s pretty sure he’s not like, a fag or anything, but this thing between them sure is something when Johnny’s willing to skip one of Ken Bennett’s infamous ragers for a night at a cockroach-infested motel with a guy who once kicked him in the face.

He takes another sip of beer, half-convinced that he absolutely needs a bunch of vitamins for beautiful, healthy hair, a Chia Pet and a set of kitchen knives, because they’re only $19.99 and wait, there’s more! but he's saved from his impulses by Daniel's restless fidgeting.

Johnny drags his eyes away from the TV and lets them rove over Daniel’s sleep-soft features. He's changed since high school, they both have, though Johnny's idea of reinventing himself when he got to college was limited to a mullet and a few wispy hairs on his chin that didn't even meet the requirements of a goatee.

Daniel however, looks nothing like the scrawny shrimp Johnny had tormented throughout their senior year. Yeah, he’s still short and he never stops running his mouth, but he's also filled out. A lot.

Johnny would roast him for it, but he kind of likes the way Daniel’s jeans strain around his ass and how his little tits jiggle when he rides Johnny’s cock. They don't fill his palms like girl tits, and Johnny’s fully aware that Daniel isn't anything like the babes he fucks back on campus, but maybe that’s part of the appeal.

And there's that damn identity crisis again.

The shadows in the room stretch and shrink with the shifting pictures on the TV screen, and Daniel’s face twists into something pained. He jerks against Johnny's flank, his arms and legs twitching like someone’s giving him tiny shocks of electricity.

Johnny reaches out, his hand hovering over Daniel’s shoulder. Are you supposed to disturb someone if they’re having a nightmare? Or was that about sleepwalking?

Daniel's hands come up like he's trying to block a strike from an invisible enemy and he breathes out a distressed sound that makes Johnny’s skin crawl.

He sets his beer on the nightstand and gives Daniel’s shoulder a careful nudge. “Hey, LaRusso—Daniel? You okay?”

Daniel kicks his legs around the tangled sheet and punches the air.

And Johnny’s fucking nose!

“Ow shit!”

Johnny’s eyes water from the strike and his tastebuds prickle at the metallic tang of blood flooding down his throat.

“J-Johnny?”

Daniel sits up and blinks at Johnny with dazed, bleary eyes.

“Jesus Christ, LaRusso… Do you have some personal vendetta against my nose?” Johnny groans, but there’s no heat in his voice, because he knows it was an accident.

“I’m-I’m so sorry, oh man, I musta been having a nightmare or something,” Daniel sputters, freeing himself from the tangle of sheets. He climbs into Johnny’s lap and wipes his thumb through the trickle of blood under his nostril. “Seriously, Johnny, I didn’t mean to—”

“I know you didn’t,” Johnny huffs, trying to blink around the tears in his eyes.

“But I’m real sorry, man.” Daniel cups Johnny’s cheeks and breathes his sleep-stale breath all over his face as he presses a kiss to the throbbing tip of his nose.

“What was it about?”

"Huh?”

“The nightmare. What was it about?”

“I, uh…” Daniel chews his lip and stares at the peeling wallpaper behind Johnny's head. “I don’t remember."

He's such a shit liar.

“You sure about that?” Johnny's had his share of nightmares, knows what it’s like to wake up with his heart knocking against his ribs, sheets soaked with sweat.

Daniel wrings his hands and continues to stare at the wall. “I'm sorry… I don't wanna talk about it.” He glances up at Johnny, eyes haunted and a little apologetic. “Okay?”

Johnny tugs on the sweat-damp hair on Daniel's nape. “Okay.”

They've been careful not to delve too deep into personal stuff, but Johnny’s got a nagging feeling that Daniel is dealing with some Shit with a capital S.

And it’s not just the nightmare or Daniel’s obvious reluctance to talk about it. Johnny can’t narrow it down to one single thing, but something about Daniel has felt a little fragile and withdrawn since they started hooking up a few months ago, like he's locked part of himself away.

Johnny's done his best to let go of his own misguided need for violence, but there are days when the bullshit in his head gets so loud and intrusive that he has to down a couple of sixers to chase away his untamed demons.

He can't picture Daniel LaRusso getting blackout drunk, but he offers his half-empty can of beer to him and is rewarded with a look of disapproval and disgust.

"Johnny, it's almost two in the morning! And that stuff tastes like battery acid and it's warm!"

"Who cares what it tastes like if it gets you drunk," Johnny huffs. He empties the can in one long gulp and crushes it with a satisfying crunch of aluminum.

Daniel shakes his head and gives Johnny a lopsided smile. "You're such a caveman."

"And you're totally into it, LaRusso," Johnny snorts, tossing the can across the room.

Daniel mutters something in Italian, his smile a funny mix of exasperated and fond as he settles into the cradle of Johnny's thighs and drags the sheet aside.

"Oh, okay. We going another round, at two in the morning?" Johnny smirks.

Daniel rolls his eyes and drops a trail of kisses to the valley of Johnny's pecs, going down, down, down.

“You know you don’t have to, right?” Johnny says, because he doesn’t want Daniel to feel like he owes him for something he didn’t mean to do.

Daniel looks like a little succubus against the backdrop of red neon, watching Johnny with ink-dark eyes. “I know, but I really want to.”

Johnny forgets all about the dull pulse of pain in his nose when Daniel wraps his fingers around his dick and takes it into his plush mouth.

"Fuck...”

He hadn’t even entertained the idea of a blowjob with Ali, and the girls he meets at keggers are usually too worried about ruining their makeup to really go for it.

But Daniel LaRusso is gagging for it.

His cock is hard between his fleshy thighs, a pretty little thing that Johnny had done his best to ignore the first couple of times they did this, because the idea of putting his hands on another guy’s dick was somehow worse than railing their ass.

The first time he touched it was at a drive-in theater in Van Nuys, jealous of all the horny couples around them who felt no need to hide. He'd waited for the screen to explode with a high-octane car chase, the speaker on his open window rattling with the sound of screeching tires and gunshots as he reached between Daniel’s thighs and palmed him through his too-tight jeans.

The handjob was objectively bad and Johnny never looked away from the screen, but Daniel went off like a Roman candle, and Johnny's pretty sure the upholstery in his car has permanent stains from that night.

Daniel hums around his cock, drooling all over his chin and the wiry hairs on Johnny’s crotch as he relaxes his throat and takes him even deeper.

His mouth is warm and wet like a pussy and Johnny has to fuck it, just a little. He thrusts in and strokes his fingers against the soft roll of fat on the underside of Daniel's chin, feels the way his throat opens for his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart... Your mouth feels so good.”

Daniel lets out a surprised mewl at the pet name, and Johnny’s about to panic, because that's what he used to call Ali and it kind of just slipped out and he’s pretty sure he’s just made things weird.

“Sorry, I-I didn't mean to—”

Daniel pulls off with a wet squelch and replaces his mouth with his hand. "Say it again," he pants, tugging on Johnny's spit-slick shaft. "Please?"

Johnny blinks at Daniel as his mind plays catch up. "Uh, sweetheart?"

"Yeah." Daniel settles over Johnny's leg and grinds his cock against the thick muscle of his thigh. "I make you feel good?"

Johnny nods, thrusting into Daniel's sloppy grip. "Duh! I mean, yeah, so good." He runs his hands over Daniel's arms, supple like an overripe fruit, and marks them with a smattering of red fingerprints.

Daniel traces them with his own fingers, almost frantic as he rides Johnny's thigh. "I'm so close, please, Johnny, can I come?"

Johnny's playing catch up again. Daniel has never needed his permission to blow his load, and the breathless, desperate way he's pleading for it now feels like a game, but Johnny's not sure what role he's meant to play.

Daniel bites his lip, watching Johnny through his lashes. “Please, let me. Haven't I been good?”

The words ignite Johnny’s blood and send him on a familiar power trip. And Christ, how he used to fantasize about this, of making Daniel LaRusso beg. He drags his fingers through Daniel's sleep-mussed hair and yanks his head back, his grip assertive but not unkind.

"Johnny?" Daniel whimpers, his cock straining against the soft underside of his belly. "Can I?"

Johnny flexes his fingers in Daniel's hair and presses his mouth to his ear. "Yeah, sweetheart, come on." The words stumble from his tongue in an awkward rush, like he's delivering a line in a school play, but Daniel throws his head back, almost rapturous.

The stark light from the TV paints a halo around his messy hair and he looks like some kind of religious figure as he comes, beautiful in a way that makes Johnny feel like he's ruining him with his touch.

Daniel collapses against Johnny's chest and blinks at him with pleasure-hazy eyes. "Uh. That was..."

"Yeah, man." Johnny lets out a stunned chuckle, because it sure was. He's still hard between the sweaty press of their bodies, and he drags his fingers over the seam of Daniel's lips.

Daniel grins at him and takes the hint, settling back between Johnny’s thighs. He let's Johnny hook his thumb over his bottom teeth and gives it a playful little nip.

“Want me to swallow?”

Johnny almost blows his load at the question and his voice comes out in a high-pitched wheeze. “Sure. Okay."

Daniel tugs on his cock, smiling like a little imp as he sticks his tongue out, and that's it. Johnny's hips jerk up and his cock spits out a fat glob of come over Daniel's plump cheek, and it's one of the hottest things he's seen (and Johnny's seen a lot of hot shit, because his roommate, who's probably some kind of sex fiend, has lined the walls of their dorm with so many naked babes that you can't turn your head without seeing some bush).

The rest of his load lands on the bow of Daniel's lips and he feels like his soul is about to depart from his body as he watches Daniel drag his fingers through the jizz on his face, popping them into his mouth like he's savoring a fucking treat.

“Jesus, LaRusso… Feel free to punch me in the nose whenever you want if this is what it gets me,” Johnny chuckles, slumping against the lumpy pillows.

Daniel crawls to his side and rests his cheek on Johnny's shoulder. “I really am sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Johnny strokes his hand along Daniel’s flank and gives his ass a playful smack. “So… You really liked it, huh?”

“What, punching you in the nose?” Daniel sputters, blinking up at Johnny.

“No, not that.” Johnny snorts. “I mean the other stuff. Asking for my permission and you know, when I called you... that name.” Johnny's cheeks prickle with heat, because it's still weird to call another guy something as soft as sweetheart, even one as pretty as Daniel.

“Oh. That.” Daniel bites his lip, unable to hide his flush in the bright glare from the TV. He presses his fingers against the marks Johnny's left on his arm and looks a little flustered, like he’s as surprised by the whole thing as Johnny. “Well, yeah, kind of.”

“Is it something you want to, like… do again?” Johnny asks, braver in the shadows than he’ll ever be in broad daylight.

Daniel throws his leg over Johnny's waist and gives him a coy smile. “Maybe.”

#Lawrusso #Lawrusso drabbles and ficlets #writing this from Johnny's perspective gave me limited access to Daniel's head #but he's dealing with all the post-Terry Silver and Mike Barnes trauma #and the awakening of his inner sub #it's past 2AM apologies for any mistakes but i'm falling asleep

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