Chapter Text
Sid wanted Johnny out of house over the summers and Johnny didn’t want to be in the house.
It worked out.
He’d had the same summer job since he was old enough to have it, after being shipped off every summer as a kid for as long as Sid had been in his life.
He hated it.
But just every so slightly less than he hated being stuck with Sid.
There were things he liked.
He liked the trees, the smell of them and the dry dirt.
He liked the lake that glittered in the sun and he liked kayaking.
He liked running the paths early in the morning when it was still cool.
And he didn’t hate the kids.
He hated the teen and college counselors who were absolute dicks or didn’t give a shit.
He hated the food that they made, barely supervised by a bored “chef” who spent his time in the back reading romance novels rather than supervising and that the director skimped on ingredients for.
Meaning every ingredient was cheap or on sale or bought in bulk, which was why as a kid he got so sick of corn.
The director had gotten a deal on corn and every meal included it.
Another year it was radishes.
Then beets.
He hated the camp songs.
Songs that were supposed to somehow match with “Camp Stinging Nettles”, which seemed a dumb choice for a camp to send your kid to since without fail Johnny spent hours tending to nettle stings, taking the kids to the camp nurse for treatment.
He supposed he was lucky the director didn’t send them out to harvest the nettle, that they didn’t spend the entire summer eating nettle soup, nettle stir-fry, and drinking nettle tea.
The teens and college counselors fought over who got to be on kitchen duty because it was like an easy class, a blow off job.
The director didn’t give a shit and the actual staff ate something else with the director up in the office, so they didn’t care, it was just the rest of them that were tortured by eating shitty goop.
Bunch of sadistic bastards.
Johnny also hated crafting.
He had painted a life time supply of rocks, done enough papier-mâché, enough macaroni art, and built enough bird houses to last the rest of his life.
He was sick of the smell of wood glue, of seeing glitter and popsicle sticks.
He might scream if he had to deal with another brightly colored feather.
It’d taken a lot of bitching and moaning and being stubborn to get to where he was.
He was in charge of the fun activities.
He taught archery.
He taught kayaking.
He lead hikes and foraging— in the hopes of finding edible things that didn’t suck— and bird watching.
He taught swimming.
Anything that required muscle and strength and movement.
He was the counselor for that.
Finally.
He’d had to fight, hard for that, to be taken seriously because the head counselors, the director would listen to him and nod and then look at his sheet and frown and say, “Well I see, but wouldn’t you feel more comfortable doing crafts with the little ones?”
Never again.
Didn’t mean the rest of the camp still weren’t dicks about it.
Didn’t mean they still didn’t ask him if he was scared to be in the woods by his lonesome, surely he’d like some company?
He did not want their company.
He loved pointing out deer tracks, bear tracks, poison ivy and oak and the white-breasted Nuthatch.
He didn’t even mind that he was in charge of a cabin full of elementary school kids. Because they had a blast.
The kids were cool.
It was the counselors and staff that sucked.
Johnny dropped his shit off in his cabin, Jackalope, like every year and headed to the canteen listening to the droll from the girl who read the announcements, Lori.
He’d thought she was cool his first year, but then they grew up and she stuck her nose up at him just like the rest of them had.
He collected his clipboard and the new list of kids.
He got new kids every year in his cabin, but the old kids would still swing by, say hi, ask him for help with things.
The little ones also knew him.
They all knew him, and the new kids slowly would too.
“Johnny?”
Johnny blinked, looking up to see Daniel LaRusso, dressed in the camp shirt, a bright green and orange like peas and carrots threw up all over it holding a clipboard and a set of keys, the wooden engraving of the Lone Pine Mountain Devil on it.
Daniel should’ve gotten something softer, like the cactus cat, or the Fresno alien, or hell a ghost deer.
Johnny scooted over from the seat he’d taken, where he’d spread out on so that the other councilors wouldn’t sit next to him and Daniel sat, skin all golden and sunkissed, and smiling at him.
“Have you done this before?” Daniel whispered while their head camp councilor went through his papers because Randy couldn’t be organized to save his own life.
“Yearly,” Johnny said.
Daniel looked at him surprised.
“What? Don’t look the responsible type?”
“No, I just assumed you’d be doing something with the Cobras— er— your friends.”
“They go on family vacations, and their parents are extra adamant now. Meanwhile,” Johnny said lowering his voice so only Daniel could hear him. “My step dad doesn’t want to know I exist, so this is better.”
He expected a laugh.
Instead he got a frown and studied by big brown eyes.
Daniel should’ve gotten night watcher instead.
Not a territorial murderous demon.
“So, welcome Daniel LaRusso, he’ll be head chef this year helping us take care of our amazing potato donation.”
Johnny stared back at Daniel in shock.
Stomach churning, he frowned staring down at his clipboard with the general schedule on it, his students information while Daniel gathered up his special master set of keys for the canteen, that’d get him in everywhere, but mostly the god-awful kitchens.
He got his own keys, a small set to the supplies for archery and kayaking, for the towels and laundry.
He did so much fucking laundry every summer.
When the meeting was over he got up and left the canteen while the other councilors milled around, catching up.
He heard the sound of running and heard his name, turning slightly.
“Johnny! Wait up!”
“I can’t believe you’re working food,” Johnny said.
“What? Why not?”
“It’s awful, every single year the food is the worst thing ever. And I like potatoes. I’m going to hate potatoes after this summer.”
“What are you in charge of?”
“Activities like archery, hiking, swimming, kayaking, overnight camping trips. That stuff,” Johnny said.
“Well,” Daniel said stepping too close. “In case you didn’t hear, I’m head chef. So tonight you’ll see. This will be the best summer of camp food you’ve ever had. Which cabin are you in?”
Johnny held out his wrist, the wrist coil key ring with the jackrabbit with antlers hanging from it. “Jackalope. Every year.”
“What’s a jackalope? Actually what’s a…what is this thing?” Daniel asked holding up his own.
“They’re all monsters,” Johnny said continuing his walk, Daniel falling in step beside him.
“So that one is the cactus cat, that one is the night watcher, that one is the ghost deer, that’s the Fresno alien. I’m in that one, and you’re in that one, the Lone Pine Mountain Devil.”
“The what?”
“The Lone Pine Mountain Devil,” Johnny repeated then frowned, Daniel looked disturbed, eyes wide almost like he was about to cry.
“They’re all like local monsters. Listen mine’s just a dumb little rabbit with deer antlers. Yours is badass okay? It’s a territorial monster. You know? Protects what it cares about. It’s bat like with venomous fangs and claws.”
“What do they do?”
“Huh?”
“They’re scary right?”
“Well…” Johnny said digging his shoe into the dirt path. “Yeah, they attack their victims head and torso. They uh, rip their faces off? But they’re supposed to only attack those who disturb the peace of the land you know? Like a violent peace keeper.”
Daniel frowned, but seemed to calm down.
“Oh, okay. Are there monsters like that…are they—“
“Real?” Johnny asked.
Daniel nodded and Johnny shrugged.
“I mean sometimes the creature we do have play tricks on you. Like crows, they can mimic people sometimes. So I have kids almost yearly run up to me all in a panic because they heard a baby crying in the woods and I tell them it’s not a baby but that freaks them out more, so we have to go for a walk and try and find which bird it is making the sound. Takes forever.”
“You actually walk with them and show them it’s a bird?” Daniel asked.
He sounded surprised.
“Yeah well they’ll have nightmares otherwise. Or like be too worried to focus. You try getting a good nights sleep when all the campers decided to leave their own cabins because they’re scared to pile into your rickety bed. I had that happen twice, and this is much easier than trying to deal with a ton of children and pre-teens running to me in the middle of the night.”
Daniel smiled at him and the announcements broke the silence.
“Alright Stinging Nettle Camp counselors! Head to the buses it’s time to go pick up our campers!”
Johnny continued down the path, Daniel following up to the bus. Johnny climbed aboard and plopped down by the window behind the driver, surprised when Daniel automatically sat down beside him.
He put on his headphones and leaned against the window ignoring the other councilors until it was time to get the kids.
One of the few nice things about being a counselor was that it kept Johnny busy.
He could ignore his own peers and focus on helping kids get on the bus, into using his muscle to heave bags onto the bus even when dumbasses tried to help him.
Surprisingly it wasn’t that bad, having Daniel sitting next to him, standing beside him, watching the other councilors with a frown.
He’d expected Daniel to hit it off with the rest of them, leave his side and go help but he stayed, stubbornly next to Johnny, arms crossed across his chest, and helping him wordlessly.
It was…different.
Daniel’s hands brushed his as they gathered up the kids stuff.
He normally hated that shit.
Hated how people tried to take the bags from him like he was weak or couldn’t lift anything but Daniel just seemed to support, easily, from his side.
It always made him appreciate Cobra Kai, his schools, where no one gave a shit about the boxes the other counselors put people in. Made him really homesick that first year after he graduated high school. When he knew he didn't have Cobra Kai to go back to. A place where his actions and hard work outweighed everything else.
Or had.
He got the last one thrown into the back of the bus and felt a hand slide into his.
He looked down.
Alex, a camper from last year that had been absolutely convinced that there was a monster in the woods.
Johnny knelt down.
“Hey, welcome back.”
Sticky arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders and Johnny patted red hair.
“Ready for some sun and fun?”
God he sounded like a cheesy camp special.
He felt the kid nod then dart off to get onto the bus, hug over.
He stood up slowly looking away as he felt Daniel’s eyes on him.
So he wasn’t as tough as he seemed.
So what?
The whole point was for the kids to have fun, and if the kids liked him?
Well sue him.
He was proud that they came running to see him specifically every year.
He was pretty sure if the campers got to vote on their favorite counselor in the camp he’d be the winner, every year.
He climbed up onto the bottom step of the bus and held onto the edge before hanging out.
“Campers! All aboard or else you’re camping in this parking lot! I know you don’t want that, there’s no archery, no swimming, no crafting or campfire stories or songs in this parking lot. Say later to your parents and climb aboard before we leave you behind and you’ll miss out on all the adventure!”
Some of the other councilors whistled.
But Johnny found his voice carried well enough and he watched heads dart up like meerkats, hearing the sound.
The experienced campers knew what it meant to hear Johnny’s voice carry across the parking lot.
They kissed their parents or whoever brought them, hugged them, grabbed whatever else they forgot and ran, a hoard of children running and yelling, leading the others, the new kids, to realize it was time to go, running straight towards Johnny and the other buses.
Johnny shifted his weight so only his toes remained on the bottom rung and he stayed outside, hanging off the bus balancing carefully.
Daniel still stood outside of their bus, holding his clipboard, eyes wide watching the herd of children race.
The last one jumped on and Johnny scanned the parking lot for stragglers.
He thought about calling out to Daniel, a loud LaRusso!, but that’d look bad, for Daniel, so he swung his body around and hopped up the rest of the steps with his list and called out names, checking them off, high-fiving kids who wanted high fives, fist bumps for those who wanted them before circling back around and plopping back down into his seat.
Daniel hurried onboard taking the seat next to him.
It was going to be different this year.
He could feel it.
The nervous buzz of his skin that someone would sit with him was soothed by Daniel.
His heart wasn’t pounding hard in his chest, he didn’t have to curl in on himself, he could just enjoy the wall of noise of happy campers ready for a summer of adventure.