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Sam’s parents had nearly combusted when they came home from the Encino Oaks Christmas party. Her heels crunching over broken glass and porcelain, Mrs. LaRusso had commanded every injured member of the Cobra Kai dojo to “get the fuck out of her house now”. Mr. LaRusso was nowhere in sight, having torn out of the driveway again after he caught sight of his daughter and students collapsed against the walls of his home, blood soaking through their shirts and bruises blooming on their bodies.
Demetri sat in front of the couch where he had resided before the fight, focusing all of his remaining energy on picking tiny glass shrapnel from his jeans. Hawk– Eli– hadn't left yet, sitting on the floor against the wall opposite him, and he couldn't face whatever had happened. The adrenaline from the battle was crumbling and all Demetri felt was exhausted. His knuckles were a kaleidoscope of angry reds and pinks, sure to cover up the mottled yellow and brown ones in the next few days.
Mrs. LaRusso came around, holding out a few rolls of gauze, two ice packs, and an assortment of bandages, which he gratefully accepted. She didn't say anything, unlike at the dojo after practice, where she sometimes stopped by with lemonade. He started to roll his knuckles in the gauze, just as Miguel and Sam had taught him, when he heard glass crunch next to him.
“Can I use some of that?” Eli was sitting next to him on the floor, voice low, almost barely perceptible even though the house was quiet.
“Thought you were used to the pain by now, Hawk .” The words, dripping with sarcasm, fell out of Demetri’s bruised lips as he stopped winding gauze around his own knuckles and stared into Eli’s eyes.
“Dude, I said sorry earlier. During the fight. I thought we were cool now.” Eli pulled his knees up towards his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. Demetri was vaguely aware of how reminiscent this was of a situation from when they were children—Eli would pull himself closer, as if he was going to fall apart, when he got anxious. Demetri would comfort him, arm around his shoulder, telling him that even if it didn’t get better, they still had each other. And now they were here, on the glass shards of their friendship and the LaRusso’s expensive patio table.
“One sorry, compared to months of ass kickings. Yeah, we’re real cool, Hawk. The best of friends now, actually.” Demetri wouldn't let up, the cynic side he had fostered for years told him that this was too good to be true, that the Eli Moskowitz next to him was a mirage made of Manic Panic and tears. He looked away, focusing again on his knuckles.
“Please, Dem.” Eli’s hand had covered one of his own, preventing Demetri from ignoring him. “I’ll fix this.”
Demetri couldn't think of a proper response. Instead, he lifted Eli’s hand and inspected it, scoffing.
“Your knuckles look worse than mine. Here.” He picked up one of the ice packs he had been given by Sam’s mom, placing it on Eli’s right knuckle, starting to wrap his left.
“You don’t have to-”
“You’re an idiot.” They stared at each other once more, blue into brown, tension building around the two. “But I still care about you.”
Eli’s brows furrowed and he settled his chin on his knees, watching Demetri as he made sure the bandages weren't too loose or too tight. Eli felt like he was seven again, when Demetri would put bandages on scrapes from when kids at school would trip him and he couldn’t stop crying. He felt vulnerable, all he wanted was to reach out and hug Demetri, apologize in every way he could, every language he knew. It wasn't enough to quit Cobra Kai. His eyes welled with tears that rolled down onto his pants, splotching the fabric.
“I love you.” It was all he could say, it was how he got out of fights with his mom, when she was mad that he had stayed out late or when she had inevitably found out about his back tattoo.
It shocked Demetri, who dropped the other ice pack he had picked up from beside him, mouth slightly ajar. In all the years they had known each other, they hadn't said this to each other—they hadn't needed to. It was unspoken, yet known, that their friendship was more. In hard times, they let each other know verbally that they cared, but this was new and uncharted.
“What?” For someone with the gift of speech (who was proud of it), he was dumbstruck. Eli loves him. Was it always this way? Was this new or was this an easy out, a manipulation of his own feeble heartstrings?
“I love you, Dem.” Eli said it a bit louder than before, clearing his throat after. He wished he were a snake–he wanted to eat himself alive. The look on his face was genuine, Demetri realized, nodding his head slowly.
“I...love you too?” It came out as more of a question than he wanted it to, but Demetri’s face was sincere, a small smile on his lips. This time, he placed his hand in Eli’s, locking their fingers together.
A silent reminder that nothing could break whatever they had.