Archive of Our Own

“You’re still doing it wrong,” Daniel called out. “You gotta use your entire arm.”

Johnny lowered his paintbrush and lifted one orange Walkman speaker off his ear. “I know how to paint a fence, LaRusso.”

“You do realize that this isn’t actually about painting the fence?” Daniel pointed out, cocking his hip. “It’s about—”

“Muscle memory, I know,” Johnny said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not dumb.”

Daniel dragged his gaze over Johnny’s beefy arms and blond head. “You definitely look the part…”

“Shut up, LaRusso,” Johnny groaned, pointing his dripping paint brush at Daniel. “And stop staring.”

“What? I’m not staring,” Daniel sputtered.

He’d definitely been staring.

Johnny’s mouth stretched into a smug sneer. “Oh, sure you aren’t.” He dabbed his face with the hem of his too-revealing top, giving Daniel an eyeful of his stupid washboard abs.

What an asshole.

“Whatever, man,” Daniel muttered, turning his eyes back on the boxtree pot. The very overflowing boxtree pot. “Oh no, no, no!”

Johnny was at his side before Daniel could even register his mad dash across the garden. “What? What is it?” He hovered behind Daniel’s back, their shadows melding together on the flat stone path. And he’d been doing that a lot lately. Hovering and breathing down Daniel’s neck like some overbearing meat head.

“It’s nothing!” Daniel snapped, rushing to direct the flow of water into another pot. “I overwatered the damn boxtree.”

“Jeez…” Johnny blew out an amused snort and set his headphones back on his ears. “You’re so dramatic, LaRusso.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have a fence to paint?” Daniel grumbled, digging his elbow into Johnny’s stomach.

They spent the rest of the scorching day in relative peace, but nights were always a challenge as they tried to co-exist in Mr. Miyagi’s tiny home, Daniel in the guest room and Johnny in his own makeshift space only a few screen doors away.

Johnny had made himself right at home, lining the walls of his nook with pictures of muscle cars and beefy action stars. He’d even got himself a tiny portable TV, and Daniel pursed his mouth into a jealous knot as he listened to the muffled laughter of a late night talk show audience.

He kind of wanted to evict Johnny from the premises at least twice a day, but Mr. Miyagi had made it very clear that Johnny was as welcome in his house as Daniel.

And maybe having Johnny around wasn’t that bad. It would have been a lonely summer with his Ma in Fresno and Mr. Miyagi in Okinawa.

Sure, things got a little heated from time to time, either because of Daniel’s big mouth or Johnny’s short fuse, but Johnny hadn’t laid a finger on him since the tournament, and even the bickering was kind of fun without the threat of violence. There was a strange thrill to it, a heady pinch of nerves Daniel hadn't felt since his early days in California, back when he and Ali had circled each other in a tentative game of flirtation.

Not that he and Johnny were flirting.

His stomach lurched at the thought. Or maybe it was the Sloppy Joes Johnny had made for dinner. He’d been feeling a little off-kilter all day, wound up with restless energy and strange anticipation for some nebulous thing he couldn’t even name.

He wandered into the kitchen for a cup of Mr. Miyagi’s herbal tea, hoping it would settle his queasy stomach and jittery limbs.

He’d tried to be a good houseguest, but the same couldn’t be said about their stray from Encino. The kitchen looked like a bombsite from Johnny’s attempt at cooking dinner, emphasis on attempt, and it was painfully obvious that housework and cleaning up after himself was a completely foreign concept to him.

If Daniel ever had kids of his own, he’d make sure they grew up humble and unspoiled.

He put the kettle on the burner and studied the postcards Mr. Miyagi had sent him from Okinawa as he waited for the water to boil. There was a small collage of them on the fridge door, idyllic pictures of a lush coastline, beautiful shrines and crystal blue waters.

Daniel brushed his thumb over the glossy paper, his smile a little wistful. He’d wanted to see it all with his own eyes, but omegas weren’t allowed to travel without their legal guardian or a bonded mate. Which was total bullshit. He was eighteen, he could take care of himself. And Johnny was an alpha, but the guy could barely boil water, so how was he automatically more qualified to breeze through life without stupid restrictions.

Daniel jumped at the high-pitched whistle from the tea kettle. He rushed to the stove, grabbing the handle with his bare hand. The searing pain from the hot metal punched the air out of his lungs.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

Johnny appeared in the kitchen like a genie. “What happened? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Daniel whined, rushing to stick his hand under the faucet.

Johnny grabbed a towel and wrapped it around the handle, lifting the kettle off the burner. “You’re such a klutz, LaRusso,” he admonished, but there was no bite in his voice. “Here, let me take a look at that.”

“No, it’s okay, you don’t have to—”

“Daniel, let me look,” Johnny insisted, a hint of authority in his voice. He brushed his fingers over Daniel’s pink palm, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. “I don’t see any blisters.”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

Daniel’s nose twitched at the sudden shift in Johnny’s scent. It was...

Soothescent.

Something alphas put out for a distressed omega. He’d read about it in one of the books his Ma had bought for him after his presentation. Johnny’s was excessively thick and a little salty, like a fresh breeze from the Pacific. Daniel closed his eyes and let himself breathe it in, just for a moment.

It was like submerging in warm water, the sting in his palm fading into a dull ache.

“I can get you some ice if it hurts?” Johnny said, trailing his thumb over Daniel’s lifeline in an unconscious caress.

Daniel blinked his eyes open, yanking his hand away. “I’m okay, Johnny, really.”

The air between them felt charged, like a single match would make the room combust. Daniel avoided Johnny’s eyes as he prepared his cup of tea the way Mr. Miyagi had taught him, the spoon clattering against the porcelain as he stirred the steaming water.

“I don’t know how you drink that stuff,” Johnny said, wrinkling his nose at the green powder dissolving in Daniel’s tea water, “it smells like feet.”

“Who cares what it smells like, as long as it helps.” Daniel took the cup of tea to his room, but Johnny followed on his heels like a shadow.

“Hey wait, what do you mean ‘it helps’?” Johnny asked. Daniel ignored him, closing the shoji door in his face. “Helps with what?” Johnny called through the screen.

Daniel tuned him out, sipping on his tea, and yeah, it did kind of smell like feet, but there weren’t many ailments Mr. Miyagi’s tea couldn’t cure.

He’d barely taken two sips when his stomach twisted with a strange cramp.

“Jesus…”

It felt like someone was rearranging his intestines and he doubled over, dropping the cup on the tatami with a sharp clatter of porcelain.

Johnny’s bulky shadow reappeared behind the door a second later. “Hey, uh, you okay in there, LaRusso?”

“Go away, Johnny,” Daniel groaned through gritted teeth. His pores pushed out fat drops of cold sweat, the edges of his vision blurring like he had lint in his eyes.

“I know something’s up,” Johnny continued, pressing his palm against the paper screen, “I can smell it.”

“You what?” Daniel limped to the door, pushing it aside just enough to glare at Johnny with narrowed eyes. “I’m on scent blockers. You’re imagining things.”

Johnny shook his head and made a show of flaring his nostrils as he scented the air between them. “Come on, Daniel, you’re distressed as hell. What’s going on?”

“I told you, you’re imagining things,” Daniel insisted, ignoring the rivulet of sweat running down the bumpy trail of his spine.

Johnny let out a frustrated growl. He curled his fingers around the door frame and gave it a push, forcing his way into the room.

“What the hell, Johnny?” Daniel snarled, “you can’t just barge into my—” He clutched his stomach as he was hit with another cramp. “Ow.”

“Hey, hey,” Johnny pawed at Daniel’s shoulders with his big, stupid, hands. “Where does it hurt?”

Daniel didn’t plan on answering, but it turned out it didn’t matter. His body did it for him.

He felt a trickle of something wet on his inner thigh. Johnny’s nose twitched as he, too, became aware of it and his gaze wandered down to the cut hem of Daniel’s shorts.

“What the hell is that?” Daniel sputtered, staring at the thin trail of slick on his inner thigh.

Johnny made a weird gurgling sound, his pupils expanding like spilled ink over the blue of his irises. “You-you don’t know?” he asked, letting out a nervous snort of laughter.

Daniel shook his head, blinking at Johnny. “No?”

“No? How the hell is that even possible? Were you asleep during sex ed or something?”

Daniel frowned, a little embarrassed. “I mean, I guess I coulda paid a little more attention, but gimme a break here. I thought I was a beta for the first seventeen years of my life, man.” He reached down and ran his fingers through the trail of fluid. It felt warm and viscous and, “wait a minute. Is this…?” He wiped his fingers on the front of his shirt like he’d dipped them in acid. “Am I in—” He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word, too busy blushing beet red.

Johnny took another whiff, his throat bobbing around a labored swallow. “No, it’s more like, uh, pre-heat? I’m pretty sure the real thing is still a few weeks away.”

“You can smell that?!” Daniel squeaked, a little incensed that Johnny seemed to know more about his body than he did. He slapped his fingers against the green band-aid on his bicep. “What about these stupid patches I wear?”

Johnny shrugged, looking just as baffled as Daniel. “Bobby said those things aren’t one-hundred percent effective if there’s a bond. Kinda like rubbers.”

“A bond? What bond? There’s no bond between us,” Daniel sputtered, poking his finger into Johnny’s chest. “You’re crazy.”

Johnny’s stance turned defensive. “Okay, well, I guess it’s more like a connection? Tomayto, tomahto, doesn’t change the fact that I was there when you presented, and you were all over me, man.”

Daniel shook his head, but Johnny wasn’t wrong. And maybe it hadn’t been such a bright idea to spend the summer under the same roof with an alpha. And not just any alpha, but the asshole responsible for his shift and this whole mess of a situation.

“This is all your fault,” Daniel grumbled under his breath.

“How is this my fault? You’re the one who’s going into heat.”

“Because you’ve been stinking up the place with your alpha stench all summer!”

“Hey, I don’t stink.”

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest, pursing his mouth into a sulky pout. “My life would be so much easier if it weren’t for you and the stupid tournament…”

Johnny crowded Daniel against the dresser, exposing his canines in an angry snarl, and yeah, maybe it hadn't been such a bright idea to bring up the All Valley.

“You mean the tournament I let you win, with an illegal kick?”

Daniel opened his mouth to argue, but the words froze on his tongue as his stomach bloomed with heat, another wet trickle running down his thigh. He knocked his knees together and cowered away from Johnny.

Johnny dropped the scowl and held his hands up, clearly able to smell Daniel’s discomfort. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna, you know, do anything.”

Daniel pointed his finger at the door. “I want you out of my room.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Right now.”

Johnny didn’t argue, backing away from the room. “Sorry, LaRusso—Daniel.” He slid the door closed, the shape of his shadow drawing away slowly.

Daniel dropped to his knees, pressing his clammy forehead against the tatami. “Oh Christ.”

Why the hell did this have to happen now, with his Ma in Fresno and Mr. Miyagi on a whole different continent. Even Ali wasn’t around, vacationing in Europe with her parents, and Mr. Miyagi would have a nasty surprise in his next phone bill if Daniel tried to explain his problem to her over the phone.

He got up on shaky legs and pressed his palms together, hoping some kata and zen breathing would clear his mind.

“Breathe in and breathe out, just like Mr. Miyagi taught you.”

He filled his lungs with the smell of lacquered wood and faded incense, a salty scent of sea breeze that lingered in the room in Johnny’s wake, familiar and tempting and… dangerous.

Daniel rushed to open the window, sucking in the night air like a fish on dry land.

“Boy, am I in trouble…”

Most of his things were back home in Reseda, but his Ma had slipped a couple of guide books into his bag for some light summer reading. Daniel had done his best to ignore them, like hiding them under the bed made the mess that was his life seem a little less real, but maybe it was finally time to give them a read.

He sat down on the tatami and leafed through A Young Omega’s Guide to Presentation and Let’s Talk About the Birds and the Bees, taking in the overly detailed illustrations.

He wondered if things were as awkward for alphas, if they had to go through the same messy changes and inconvenient hormones. The book made it sound like a pretty rough ride, and Daniel thought of Johnny in the throes of his first rut, panting like some beast of burden, desperate for an omega.

It was almost eighty degrees in the room, but his nipples went stiff like someone had dumped a bucket of ice on him, his groin flaring with heat.

Daniel pushed the books away and stumbled to his futon, hiding under the blankets like he was five years old and scared of the closet monster. He knew he was still slick, but he refused to touch himself, curling his fingers against his clammy palms.

His dreams that night were restless, full of looming shapes and torrid ache. He ground his hips against the futon, back arched into a pliant curve, a position that felt as natural as breathing.

He didn’t know if he was awake or still dreaming as he tiptoed through the quiet house a little after midnight, past the tea room and Mr. Miyagi’s personal space. Everything felt hazy and a little disconnected, like he was a few inches left of his own body. but he knew exactly where he was going, the beacon of Johnny’s scent growing stronger as he approached the back of the house.

The dressing screen in front of Johnny’s nook had been pushed aside, almost like an invitation, and Johnny lay on his cot with a comic in his hands, bathed in a warm glow of light from his reading lamp.

“Daniel?”

Johnny put his comic down and sat up. He watched Daniel for a few tense heart beats, expectant, like he was just waiting for him to voice his need.

“I tried to ignore it, but I… Daniel swayed from foot to foot, his fingers clutched around the hem of his shirt. “Johnny, can I—can you—” He blew out a stuttering breath. What was he even asking for? “This is stupid. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here.”

Johnny stood up and took a gentle hold of Daniel’s hand. “Come on, it’s okay.”

Daniel let himself be reeled in, his hand trembling in Johnny’s grip.

“That bad, huh?” Johnny moved to sit on the edge of the cot and pulled Daniel between his long legs. “It’s okay.” He stroked his thumb over Daniel’s pulse point, the salty edge of his soothescent filling the air like a fine mist. “I’m an alpha. I know what you need.”

Daniel’s alarm bells went off at the words. Johnny couldn’t be talking about…

“Johnny, we can’t, you could get me— It’s not safe.”

Johnny let go of Daniel’s hand like he’d been burned by it. “Hey, hey, no, we don’t have to do that,” he sputtered. “I mean that I know how to take the edge off in a completely safe way. And it wouldn’t have to, like, mean anything or change things, okay?”

Daniel curled his toes against the worn tatami. The whole thing was absurd, Johnny Lawrence in Mr. Miyagi’s house, Daniel in the cradle of his thighs, how soft and disarming he looked, clad in a pair of sweatpants and a rumpled Kiss shirt.

“Okay.”

Johnny arched his brows. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Daniel repeated, feeling like a parrot. “But I haven’t done this before.” His cheeks flared at the confession, but most omegas didn’t go all the way in high school and those who did would often end up as a cautionary tale.

It was a low-hanging fruit, an easy opportunity for Johnny to make fun of him, but Johnny’s expression turned almost solemn. “I’ll make it good for you, I promise.” He slipped his thumbs into the belt loops on Daniel’s shorts and gave them a tug. “These are gonna have to come off.”

Daniel nodded, staring at the dark grains in the wood paneling behind Johnny’s cot as he let Johnny drag his shorts and underwear down his thighs.

He had never made it beyond first base with any of the girls he’d dated, all two of them. He’d been naked around other guys before his presentation, but a stuffy school locker room didn’t really compare to being undressed by your former nemesis.

The universe sure had a funny way of messing with you.

“Part your legs for me,” Johnny said, dragging his palm up and down Daniel’s inner thigh, his voice a husky murmur. “Yeah, that’s good.”

Daniel bit his lip at the praise, Johnny’s calloused caress revving up the need in his belly. The air between them flared with something intimate and Daniel breathed it in, rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Arousal. Johnny’s arousal, his mind supplied.

Daniel leaked at the taste of it.

Johnny pushed his fingers between Daniel’s cheeks, sliding them through the copious slick.

“You’re so wet.”

Daniel let out a self-conscious whine. “Johnny.” His stomach burned with an incessant need and he threw his head back, his mouth falling open in a slack O as he tried to sink down on Johnny’s hand.

“Hey, hey,” Johnny looked up with wide-eyed amusement, tightening his grip on Daniel’s hip, “hold your horses, LaRusso.”

“Please, Johnny, I need it.” Daniel flushed at the whiny edge in his voice, how easily the pleas fell off his tongue.

“I know, I know,” Johnny murmured, fitting his middle and ring finger over Daniel’s hole. “I’ll give it to you.”

Daniel breathed out a quiet wail as Johnny sank them inside, and it felt so good, his thighs locking around Johnny’s forearm as he trembled with relief.

“You okay?” Johnny rasped.

“I’m—ah!—Yeah.”

Daniel buried his hands in Johnny’s hair, his belly roiling with molten arousal. His cock was pink and stiff, poking out under the hem of his shirt, but Johnny ignored it, almost like touching it would cross some unspoken boundary and make their midnight tryst about more than taking the edge off.

“You’re so warm. And soft,” Johnny said, his voice a little reedy. “Ali never let me—I mean, I never…did this before.”

Daniel smiled down at Johnny, something possessive blooming under his ribs. “Good.”

Johnny added another finger, and Daniel accepted the stretch with ease, needy and open, his body shaking from the power of Johnny’s thrusts.

“You’re taking them so well,” Johnny murmured, his knuckles digging into Daniel’s ass cheeks, “like a good omega.”

Daniel gave a frantic nod, and why the hell hadn’t they been doing this all summer, because this was fantastic, Johnny was fantastic with his big hands and musky scent that compelled Daniel to expose his throat, allow Johnny to claim him and—

“Oh!”

Daniel sank his nails into Johnny’s sunburned shoulders as his cock pulsed out a wet spatter of come. It dripped down Johnny’s shirt in pearly white trails, leaving a wet tang of salt in the air.

“Fuck...” Johnny croaked, staring at the mess on his chest.

And Daniel knew it wasn’t over, could feel something in his belly winding tight as Johnny continued to work his fingers in and out of his slick hole.

“Johnny, I think I’m gonna—ah!” The coil in his belly snapped loose and he clamped his thighs around Johnny’s wrist, gushing all over his fingers.

“Whoa, hey, hey!” Johnny caught Daniel in his arms as his legs lost their ability to support his meager weight, cradling him against his chest.

And it just kept coming, the overwhelming flood of Daniel's pleasure wetting Johnny’s entire hand and the tatami under his feet as his hole clenched like a hungry mouth, desperate for something only an alpha could give him.

Johnny massaged him gently, forcing out a couple of more squirts until Daniel was too sensitive to take it. “No more,” he whined, tugging Johnny’s fingers out.

He glanced down, blushing at the small puddle absorbing into the yellowed straw of the tatami. Even Johnny’s arm looked soaked in the exposed bulb of the reading lamp, rivulets of Daniel’s slick rolling down his thick forearm like sap.

Daniel’s scalp tingled with absolute embarrassment. “Johnny, I’m sorry, I had no idea that would happen and—”

Johnny let out a choked moan. He brought his hand up and Daniel let out a shocked yelp as he watched Johnny shove his fingers into his mouth, licking at Daniel’s slick like he was savoring a special treat.

It should have been gross, but the open, shameless, desire on Johnny’s face was the hottest thing Daniel had seen.

The springs of the cot wailed under Johnny’s bulk as he settled against the wall, shoving his hand into his sweatpants. “I gotta touch myself. You got me so hard.”

Daniel’s gaze was fixed on Johnny’s hand, the way it stretched the front of his sweatpants as he fisted his cock. His hole pulsed at the sight, leaking out a needy drop of slick.

“Fuck, Daniel.” Johnny licked his lips, watching Daniel with heavy-lidded eyes. “Please, can you kiss me? It—it doesn’t have to change anything,” he said, repeating his earlier promise.

But everything between them had changed, months ago, and the unwitting connection they’d formed on the sparring mat felt more like fate. Inevitable. Necessary.

Most of all, it felt right, and Daniel settled onto Johnny’s lap, licking into his mouth, imperfect and wanting.

“Can I touch you?”

Johnny’s hand froze in his pants. He blinked at Daniel like the offer was some great sacrifice. “Really? You want to?”

Daniel lowered his hand to Johnny’s waistband, his lips curling up in a lopsided smile. “Yeah, Johnny, I want to.” He slipped his hand into Johnny’s sweats, blinking at the humid heat. He knew of the differences in their anatomy, in theory, but he’d never touched anyone so intimately.

He dragged his fingers through coarse hair and curled them around Johnny’s knot, the skin silky smooth and hot to the touch, a detail the illustrations in his books had made no mention of. And there was also the heady scent of Johnny’s arousal, the pinch of his sun-bleached brows as he thrust into Daniel’s fist, his fingers clutched around the bedding in a white-knuckled grip.

“Fuck, Daniel, I’m so close,” Johnny whined, his knot pulsing against Daniel’s palm. “It’s gonna be messy.”

Daniel knew it was meant to be a warning, but his bonding gland pulsed at the words, some primal part of him wanting to risk it all for a moment of shared pleasure, but his Ma would ground him for life if he went and got bonded fresh out of high school.

Johnny’s cock strained in Daniel’s grip, his knot almost as big as an orange. “It’s expanding,” Daniel gasped.

“It means I’m gonna come.” The room flooded with the scent of Johnny’s release a moment later and he sank his nails into his bonding gland in a feeble imitation of a bite.

Daniel’s hand grew wet as Johnny trembled on the cot and, “boy, you weren’t kiddin’ about the mess, huh?”

Johnny rubbed at his bonding gland, his head lolling on his shoulders. He wasn't in a rut and the whole thing was over in a couple of minutes, the hard swell of his knot shrinking like a deflating balloon.

Daniel nuzzled his nose against Johnny’s sweaty temple. “You okay, Johnny?”

Johnny exhaled a shaky gust of air. “I’m good.” He ran his fingers through Daniel’s coarse hair and settled his palm against his nape. “How about you? Was I any good?”

Daniel’s mouth curled up in a teasing grin. “Eh, not bad.”

“Not bad?” Johnny snorted. “Screw you, LaRusso. I blew your mind!”

“Maybe. A little.” Daniel let out a winded laugh, splaying his palm against Johnny’s chest. “Thank you, Johnny.”

Johnny shrugged, his smile a little sheepish. “Any time.”

Daniel watched Johnny through his lashes. He walked his fingers up to his shoulder and let the tips brush against Johnny’s bonding gland. “How about every time?”

“You mean–” Johnny blinked at Daniel, wrinkling his sun-freckled nose. “With me?"

"Yeah, Johnny, with you," Daniel snorted.

"Are we talking about bonding here or...?"

“Hey, hey, hold your horses,” Daniel said in an imitation of Johnny’s earlier words. "How about you take me out on a date first, Casanova?"

The stunned expression on Johnny's face gave way to a delighted smile. “How about Golf N’’ Stuff this Friday? I bet I can kick your ass in air hockey."

Daniel leaned in, grinning against Johnny’s lips. “Maybe, if I let you.”