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Johnny Lawrence was not a complicated man. He liked cold beer, hot showers, and his boyfriend not monologuing about a dead karate master while Johnny had his mouth attached to his inner thigh. Was it too much that he was asking for? Maybe he was but all he wanted was to enjoy this moment and not hear Daniel run his mouth about a dead master that was no longer here. He felt Daniel’s thigh twitched under his finger tips. Daniel finally let his head fall against the pillow as he said. “Johnny—ah—this is… amazing,” he gasped, breath shaky, legs twitching from sensitivity. Johnny smirked, lips still warm against Daniel’s skin, dragging his tongue up the crease of Daniel’s thigh, tasting sweat and victory. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered. Daniel moaned again—good. Until.“I just… I think Mr. Miyagi would’ve been proud of us—of you , especially. You’ve really come so far since—” Johnny stopped. Froze. Lifted his head and blinked up at him, lips wet and face deadpan.“Are you seriously quoting Miyagi right now?”
Johnny could feel a headache forming, and he wondered what he had done to deserve this nonsense. He looked up at the ceiling, half-expecting it to answer his question. "Daniel, can we please save the Miyagi quotes for after?" he sighed, trying to bring the focus back to their moment. Daniel, still flushed, looked down at him and Johnny swore he saw some mischief in those eyes "What? it's just..you know,he always said "balance is —" but Daniel was cut off mid sentence from a loud groan from Johnny "oh my God," Johnny snapped as he flopped onto his back dramatically between Daniel's legs.“You sound like a broken fortune cookie.” He ran a hand through his sweaty blond hair. Daniel propped himself up on his elbows, still bare and glowing from sex. “Don’t be an ass. He was important to me,” Daniel said, playfully slapping Johnny's bare arm. "I know," Johnny huffed, staring at the ceiling like he was reconsidering every life choice. "You remind me every day. Like, literally. This morning you told me Miyagi once taught you how to sand a deck with your eyes closed. I don’t even own a deck." He could feel his patience wearing thin but remained calm, wondering how long Daniel would keep this Miyagi thing going.
Johnny briefly considered setting up a "Miyagi Jar" where Daniel would have to deposit a dollar every time he mentioned his old mentor. It was a tempting idea, imagining how quickly the jar would fill up and the potential for a mini fortune. However, he quickly dismissed it, realizing that joking about it might hurt Daniel's feelings, and he valued their relationship far more than a few dollars in a jar. Instead, Johnny listened to Daniel talk as he said, “You asked why I was wiping down the counter in circles!” and Johnny let out another sigh, having lost count of how many times he had sighed over this nonsense. "Yeah, and instead of saying ‘because it gets it clean,’ you said, ‘because Miyagi taught me that elbow grease is—’” He mimicked Daniel in a painfully nasal voice. “‘—a metaphor for inner strength, Johnny.’” He crossed his arms over his chest, and Daniel narrowed his eyes before rolling them with a groan. “You’re exaggerating.” Daniel chuckled, dropping his teasing tone.
“Exaggerating?” Johnny snapped as he sat up in bed, glaring at Daniel, who was trying not to laugh. “If I had a dollar for every time you mention Mr. Miyagi, I could be rich again and afford whatever I want.” Johnny grabbed his sweatpants and aggressively jammed one foot into them. "I'm being serious," he said, as he watched Daniel bite his lips, trying not to laugh. "I could be swimming in cash and afford that fucking deck you keep talking about." He pulled a sweater over his head despite the oppressive summer heat, the kind that made the air shimmer and cling to the skin. “You know what else you did?” Johnny started, rummaging around the room in search of his shoes. When they didn't appear, he huffed in frustration and gave up. Daniel crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “What did I do?” he asked, feigning innocence. Johnny pointed an accusatory finger. “You Miyagi-ed your way through dinner last night. Dinner, Daniel. Over lasagna. When Robby and Miguel were over.”
Daniel grinned despite himself. "That was about patience," he said, a twinkle in his eye. Johnny snapped back, "You took fifteen minutes explaining how lasagna layers were like life. I had to reheat mine, and Robby and Miguel were grumbling that they were hungry." He tried to tie his sweatpants, feeling them loose around his waist, and then stopped, staring down. "Fuck." Daniel blinked. "What?" Johnny huffed in annoyance. "I put these on backwards," he muttered, looking up at Daniel with an utterly unamused expression. "This is your fault," he added, the drawstring hanging behind his ass like a tail. "You put your pants on backwards and that's my fault?" Daniel asked incredulously. "Yes!" Johnny exclaimed, swearing he felt his frustration surge. "Because you distracted me with your—your Miyagi cult brainwashing!" He grabbed his keys from the dresser, his face flushed with irritation. "I'm sleeping in the car again." Daniel sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed as he pulled the blanket over his lap. "Johnny. Don’t be ridiculous."
“You quoted a dead man while I had your dick in my mouth. I think I earned some personal space. ” Daniel tried not to laugh and failed. “It was just a compliment!”
“No, this is a compliment,” Johnny pointed at him dramatically. “You’ve got a great ass and I wanna bite it. That’s post-sex pillow talk. Not ‘Miyagi once said peace is found in the quiet of a kiss.’ Dude. Just say I rocked your world and be done with it.”
Daniel hummed as he said. “…He did say that about peace though.” Johnny turned around, still fuming, and stomped toward the door, one sock on and the other foot bare. He slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Daniel chuckling softly to himself on the bed. As Johnny opened the front door and the afternoon heat hit him, he grumbled under his breath, feeling even hotter under the thick sweater he didn't bother to change.
Later That Afternoon…
The front door creaked open, and Miguel and Robby stepped into the LaRusso-Lawrence warzone. “Uh… hey,” Miguel called. “Mr. LaRusso? Sensei?” Daniel walked out from the kitchen, now fully clothed and mildly annoyed. “Hey, guys.” Robby took a sip of his milkshake, glancing around the room with mild curiosity. "Where's my dad?" he asked, his eyes scanning the living room. Daniel sighed, taking the milkshake Miguel offered him. "Sleeping in his car, again." Miguel raised an eyebrow, blinking in surprise. "Oh, another fight?" he asked. Daniel shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "No, just... Miyagi-related exhaustion." Robby snorted, leaning against the wall. "He really can’t handle that, huh?"Daniel rolled his eyes. "Apparently not." Just then, the door swung open again, and all eyes turned expectantly. Daniel half-expected to see Anthony and Sam, but instead, Johnny stomped in, bleary-eyed. He was holding a half-empty bottle of water, his backwards sweatpants riding low on his hips, and he was now wearing a white beater instead of the thick sweater. "Hey, kids. Don't mind me. Just sleeping in a mobile prison because someone can't keep his karate ghost out of the bedroom." Miguel raised an eyebrow, "Did you really sleep in the car again?" Johnny took a swig of water and nodded dramatically, "I chose to sleep in the car. It's peaceful there. No quotes. No lessons. No 'life is like bonsai.' Just me and the cold leather seats and some raccoons that tried to fight me over jerky.”
Daniel set his shake down on the coffee table just as Miguel handed Johnny his milkshake. Johnny took it with a grateful nod and took a sip, savoring the cold treat. Daniel sighed, "I didn’t even bring up bonsai last night." Johnny, taking another sip, grinned mischievously, "You thought about it. I saw it in your eyes." Meanwhile, Robby's eyes darted between the two adults like he was watching a tennis match, a smirk playing on his lips as he sipped through his straw. Miguel cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation away from the playful banter. "So, uh… where’s Sam and Anthony?” he asked, glancing around the room. Daniel responded nonchalantly, "Sam's at the gym. Anthony's at a friend's house." Johnny blinked in surprise, then chuckled as he asked, "Anthony has friends?" Daniel shot Johnny a look, "Yes, he has friends." Johnny lifted three fingers, grinning, "Name three." Daniel opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it, struggling to come up with names. Miguel and Robby exchanged amused glances and burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room.
Johnny grunted, "Whatever," as he finished his milkshake and tossed it toward the trashcan. He started walking away, saying, "I’m going to shower and put my pants on the right way, and then maybe, maybe, I’ll come back to the land of ancient wisdom and post-coital prophecy.” Daniel grabbed his own milkshake, finally taking a sip, and muttered, "You're so dramatic." Johnny mimicked him in a high-pitched voice, “‘Johnny, drama is the soul’s way of purging emotion. Miyagi once said—’” Daniel threw a nearby pillow at Johnny, which read "Balance your inner peace." Johnny caught it with a wink and disappeared down the hallway, yelling, "Also, your thigh tastes like basil. What the hell kind of soap do you use?" Daniel opened his mouth to respond, but Johnny's door slammed shut before he could get a word out. The sound echoed through the room, making both boys laugh. Daniel rolled his eyes and settled into the armchair, sipping his milkshake with a smirk. He shook his head, pondering what cosmic forces had brought Johnny into his life. Was it karma, or some cosmic joke, that had paired him with such an over-the-top personality? Despite the theatrics, Daniel couldn't help but feel grateful for the endless entertainment Johnny provided cause without him life would be so boring.