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“Jesus, LaRusso, take it easy. You’re making me nervous.”
Daniel turns and tips the lenses of his black aviators down just enough to glare over at Johnny. He’s bouncing his knee absently against the dashboard, practically vibrating in his seat from nerves. “That’s easy for you to say, Lawrence, you’re not about to get your teeth ripped out of your head.”
Johnny rolls his eyes. “You think you’re the only person who’s ever gotten their wisdom teeth removed? It happens all the time. You’ll survive.”
Daniel huffs and turns back to the other side, trying to ease his nerves by watching the cars pass them. It doesn’t help.
Daniel’s tried everything to get out of this, but he’s put it off as long as he can. The dentist said if he waited much longer his wisdom teeth could become impacted and it would be that much more painful. Still, he’s terrified. He’s always hated needles and anesthesia and surgery and everything to do with doctors. And it doesn’t help that his chaperone isn’t the least bit sympathetic.
Johnny is, for lack of better words, his last resort. Daniel’s mom was supposed to accompany him, but she just started a new job in Fresno and can’t afford to ask for time off to drive all the way back to Reseda. Mr. Miyagi was next in line, but he left urgently for Okinawa a few days ago to visit his dying father. So that leaves Johnny Lawrence, with his big ego and flashy convertible, driving Daniel LaRusso to the dentist on a sweltering Tuesday afternoon in the middle of the summer.
Daniel can’t decide if he’s more surprised that Johnny agreed to take him or that he had the guts to ask Johnny in the first place. After the showdown with Kreese in the parking lot, the tension between Daniel and the Cobras lessened. This was due mostly to Bobby, always the best and most practical of them, and his efforts to break the ice between Johnny and Daniel. Both of them wanted to end their fighting but were too stubborn and bullheaded to concede, but Bobby found a way to bridge the gap. He always does.
Despite their formal rivalry, Daniel has to admit that he likes hanging out with Johnny. They have similar interests, and while Johnny’s still the same headstrong and arrogant guy he always was, he’s softened a bit. And strangely, so has Daniel—he’s learning to control his temper, to not instigate fights or seek out conflict—and it works. Their friendship works. They balance each other out perfectly, and isn’t that what Daniel’s all about?
(It’s also possible that Johnny’s bright blue eyes and blonde hair and crooked smile make Daniel’s chest feel light and fluttery in a way that he doesn’t entirely hate, but hey—balance).
Daniel is jerked from his thoughts when a hand lands on his shoulder, strong but gentle. “Hey,” Johnny says, and Daniel realizes for the first time that they’re already parked in front of the dentist’s office. “You ready?”
Daniel swallows thickly and nods, reaching to unfasten his seatbelt. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he says, attempting to put on a brave façade.
Johnny raises an eyebrow, clearly seeing right through him. “Really, LaRusso, you’ll be fine,” he says, and those eyes are full of honesty and confidence. Daniel’s heart beats a little faster “Besides, now you’ll know how I felt after you kicked me in the face,” he adds teasingly.
Daniel rolls his eyes and lands a playful hit to his shoulder. “Hey, that’s not the same and you know it.”
“Oh yeah?” Johnny smirks. “Cause I think it’s exactly the same. Only getting your wisdom teeth out isn’t illegal.”
“You’re never gonna let that one go, are you?” Daniel groans, but he’s already feeling less nervous.
“Never, LaRusso,” Johnny says with a cheeky grin, and Daniel reluctantly climbs out of the Avanti to trudge inside the office, Johnny right on his heels.
--
Johnny hates doctor’s offices. For all his bravado, he knows that if he was the one getting his wisdom teeth out, he’d be ten times the wreck Daniel is.
Johnny’s always had a deathly fear of shots, the mere sight of a needle sending a sharp thrill of panic through him. Sid found out about it when he took Johnny in for a physical once, and he never let him hear the end of it. Johnny can still feel Sid’s hand clamped down around his wrist, yanking him down the hall with a grip hard enough to bruise. A shudder runs through him and he blinks a few times, coming back to reality and taking in the small waiting room around him.
He thumbs idly through an outdated magazine that was left on a nearby coffee table, drumming his fingers restlessly on the arm of his chair. He knows Daniel will be fine, that there’s nothing to worry about, but he can’t seem to keep his thoughts from straying to his former rival.
(That happens more often than he’d like to admit, if he’s being honest).
Johnny was surprised when Daniel asked him to drive him to his appointment, especially since it’s something as important as a wisdom teeth removal. He didn’t think Daniel trusted him enough for that. They’re friends now, sure, but there’s a lingering fear in the back of Johnny’s mind that Daniel doesn’t trust him, that the wounds caused by Cobra Kai’s constant torment are too deep to heal. Johnny knows he was a jerk, was a complete and utter asshole, and he’s tried his best to make amends. Daniel says it’s fine, that it’s all water under the bridge, but Johnny still worries that it’s not enough. That he’ll never be enough.
So when LaRusso showed up at his doorstep, with his thick brown hair and wide eyes and deceiving innocence, asking Johnny to drive him to the dentist, well, Johnny jumped at the chance. As much as he hates to admit it, he likes spending time with the little Jersey punk. Not that sitting in a waiting room for an hour really qualifies as spending time together, but hey, it’s the principle of the thing.
They wouldn’t let him back into the operating room, something about him not being a relative, so he reluctantly stayed put while they took Daniel back for the procedure. Johnny swears that he saw a glimmer of sadness pass over Daniel’s face at that, just for a second, but he chalks it up to wishful thinking.
(Wait. Since when do his wishes involve Daniel LaRusso?)
“Mr….Lawrence?” Someone asks, and Johnny’s head jerks toward the doorway where a young woman wearing scrubs is standing holding a clipboard.
“Yeah, that’s me. How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing just fine. The surgery went well. He’s a little out of it from the anesthesia, but he should be ready to go home within the next half hour.”
Johnny nods, grinning internally. LaRusso on drugs, now that’s something he has to see. “Great. Can I see him?” He asks, perhaps a little too eagerly.
The nurse gives him an appraising look and nods, something flashing in her eyes for a split second, before she gives a polite smile. “Sure, right this way. I’ll need to go over the instructions for his pain medication and treatment with you before you head out.”
“Of course,” Johnny replies as he follows her down the hall. He’s a little intimidated at the prospect of being responsible for Daniel’s recovery, but he figures it can’t be that difficult. When Jimmy got his wisdom teeth out a few years back, he was back at school three days later and even showed up to the dojo that afternoon. Daniel will be fine, Johnny’s sure of it. And the second the nurse opens the door and ushers Johnny inside, he realizes that even if it is hard, it’ll be one-hundred percent worth it.
“Johnny!” Daniel exclaims, voice a little slurred. The sides of his mouth are stuffed with cotton and his head is wrapped in some sort of bandages. It looks ridiculously uncomfortable, but Daniel looks utterly ecstatic to see Johnny.
“See, LaRusso, I told you you’d make it,” Johnny says lightly, crossing the room to sit in the chair next to him. “How do you feel?”
Daniel beams at him, the cotton in his mouth nearly falling out in the process. “I feel great, Johnny,” he babbles, New Jersey accent surging in thicker than Johnny’s ever heard it. “I mean, I think they like, broke my mouth or something, but it doesn’t even hurt.”
Johnny lets out a soft laugh and smiles, relishing in the wonder that is Daniel LaRusso high off his ass on anesthesia. “That’s great, LaRusso.”
Daniel grins back at him. “It is!” he insists, tone deadly serious, and Johnny has to bite back another laugh. Daniel’s face is flushed, big brown eyes wide and innocent and swirling with emotion. He moves to stand up and sways a little in the process. Johnny grabs him by the arm and gently pulls him back down, shifting closer so that he can keep a firm hold on him. “Easy there, tiger,” Johnny eases, and if he lets his hand rest on Daniel’s knee a few seconds longer than necessary, well, sue him. “We can’t leave just yet. We have to wait on the nurse to make sure you’re ready to go home.”
“But I am ready, Johnny,” Daniel whines, petulant, brown Bambi eyes pleading with him. “I want to go home. I have to check on the bonsai trees.”
Johnny raises an eyebrow and can’t help but laugh slightly because of course that’s the one thing Daniel’s worried about. “They’re alright, LaRusso. You already checked on them this morning,” Johnny assures, and Daniel’s head perks up.
“I did?”
“Yeah, you did,” Johnny repeats, and Daniel gives a little nod in response.
“Okay, that’s good,” He mumbles, like the confirmation that his bonsai trees are indeed okay is of the upmost importance, and then he starts muttering to himself about bonsai trees and sanding the floor and some other gibberish that Johnny can’t decipher.
At some point the nurse comes back in and rattles off a bunch of instructions that Johnny tries his best to understand, endless information about ice packs and pain medicine and bandages. Daniel chimes in every now and then with some random comment that he thinks is a necessary contribution to the conversation, though most of the time it’s mindless rambling about karate or New Jersey or his mom’s homemade lasagna, which he describes as “so good that the orange cat in those comics would love it.”
“You mean Garfield, LaRusso?” Johnny questions, raising an eyebrow.
Daniel gives a feverish nod, in turn swaying a little in his seat from dizziness. “Yeah, Garfield!”
Johnny smiles and raises a hand to Daniel’s shoulder to steady him, turning back to the nurse to listen to the rest of her instructions. When she’s finally finished, she gives them the all clear to leave.
“Alright, LaRusso, let’s get out of here,” Johnny says as he stands. “Let me help you.”
He reaches out to grab Daniel’s hand, but Daniel shakes his head. “I don’t need help, Johnny, I know how to walk,” he grumbles. He does manage to shakily stand before he loses his balance and starts to fall backward. Johnny grabs hold of his shirt collar and pulls him back up, hoisting Daniel’s arm up around his shoulder.
“You sure about that?” Johnny smirks, but his tone is light and careful. Daniel glares at him but doesn’t protest any further, leaning on Johnny as he half carries him out of the dentist’s office.
Johnny helps Daniel clamber into the passenger seat of his Avanti and then slides into the driver’s seat, fastening his seatbelt. He glances over to make sure Daniel’s settled and finds him staring back at him with an unreadable but undoubtedly intense look.
“You alright, LaRusso?” Johnny asks cautiously, and Daniel blinks a few times before he nods.
“Yeah, I’m great, Johnny,” he mumbles, a sluggish smile on his face. He seems to think hard about something for a minute, and then looks back up at Johnny strangely. “Did you know your eyes are blue? Like, really blue,” he asks, tone full of wonder and astonishment. “I mean, they’re kind of gorgeous.”
Johnny gapes at him for a minute, and he can practically feel the blush burning on his cheeks. “Jesus, LaRusso, you’re making me blush,” Johnny says teasingly, shaking his head as he tries to play it off.
It works. Daniel dissolves into a fit of giggles, practically shaking with laughter. Johnny rolls his eyes fondly and puts the car in drive, heading back toward Mr. Miyagi’s house where Daniel’s been staying. After a few minutes Daniel seems to exhaust himself from laughing and slumps back into his seat.
They drive in comfortable silence for a while. Johnny finds part of himself wishing he had a camera to capture this, Daniel’s flushed, swollen cheeks and tousled hair and dazed expression as he watches the cars passing them. Daniel hasn’t spoken in a while, and Johnny’s almost wondering if he’s fallen asleep when suddenly he speaks up, shifting a little so that he’s facing Johnny.
“I wanna fight you,” Daniel blurts out, and Johnny just manages to control his laughter enough to avoid swerving into oncoming traffic.
“Oh yeah? Tell me more, LaRusso.”
“Not like, for real or anything. Just for fun, you know,” he explains, tone deadly serious. “Like the end of that movie—you know, the one with that guy, he’s like, a boxer or something.”
“Rocky III?” Johnny supplies, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah!” Daniel mutters, suddenly excited and animated. “Yo, Adrian,” he slurs in a surprisingly spot on impression of Sylvester Stallone, and Johnny can’t help but burst out laughing.
“Alright, LaRusso, you pick a time and place and I’ll be there,” Johnny concedes, and Daniel’s eyes light up.
“Yeah? Okay, that’s great,” Daniel mumbles, and then he starts humming something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like “Eye of the Tiger.” Johnny chooses to let that one go.
--
Eventually they pull up in front of the little house, and Johnny looks over to find Daniel half asleep in his seat, staring blearily ahead like they’re still driving.
“LaRusso?” Johnny asks, tapping his shoulder gently.
Daniel startles a bit, blinking drowsily and turning to look at him. “Yeah? What is it?” he slurs.
“We’re home,” Johnny says, and Daniel nods slightly in recognition.
“Really? That was fast.”
Johnny laughs and climbs out of the car, crossing over to open Daniel’s car door for him. Only, it’s becoming clearer by the second that Daniel’s incapable of walking at the moment—he can barely hold his eyes open.
Johnny sighs and makes an executive decision that he already knows he’ll probably regret but, hey, what else can he do?
“Alright, LaRusso, unfasten your seatbelt,” Johnny instructs.
Daniel peers up at him curiously, eyes ridiculously heavy. “Why?”
Johnny snorts. “So I can carry you,” he elaborates. “Unless you wanted to try to walk and fuck up your other leg.”
Daniel’s eyes widen and he shakes his head stubbornly. “I do not need you to carry me, Johnny,” he insists, and he starts to clamber out of the car. He takes no more than one step before he crumples and sways, and Johnny just manages to scoop him up in his arms before he can fall.
“Yeah, definitely not,” Johnny smirks, raising an eyebrow. Daniel huffs petulantly and glares at him but doesn’t try to climb down.
“If you tell anyone about this you’re dead,” Daniel grouses even as he makes himself comfortable in Johnny’s arms.
“Don’t worry, LaRusso, I expected no less from you,” Johnny assures him with a grin as he carries him inside. Daniel is surprisingly light, his body warm and soft against Johnny’s chest, and Johnny finds himself marveling at just how much smaller Daniel is than him. His head is tucked against Johnny’s chest, eyes sleepy and a content little smile on his face, and it feels strangely personal, almost intimate. Johnny doesn’t hate the feeling.
But he doesn’t have time to unpack all that at the moment.
“Now, do you want to go to your bedroom or the couch?”
“Damn, Lawrence, at least buy me dinner first,” Daniel slurs with a sideways grin, and okay, Johnny walked right into that one. That doesn’t stop him from blushing scarlet, though.
“Real mature,” Johnny scolds, fighting back a smile.
“Always,” Daniel mumbles, smiling languidly. “The bedroom’s fine.”
Johnny nods and carries him down the hall to the little guest room. Daniel climbs out of his arms and falls gracelessly back onto the bed, nearly tumbling off the side in the process. Johnny laughs and pulls him back to the center of the bed, throwing a blanket over him.
“Do you want something to eat, LaRusso?” Johnny asks, standing idly by the nightstand. Daniel shakes his head, settling back into the pillows.
“No, I’m not hungry,” he murmurs. His cheeks are a little more swollen now and Johnny can tell that he’s having trouble talking, that the pain is starting to catch up with him. It’s getting pretty late, the first traces of the California sunset starting to appear through the windows, and Daniel looks utterly exhausted.
“Alright,” Johnny says with a nod, turning to walk back towards the door. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
“Wait!” Daniel interjects, face suddenly contorting into a frown. “Why are you leaving?”
Johnny looks at him appraisingly and takes a step closer. “I’m not leaving, LaRusso,” he assures. “God knows what would happen if I left you unsupervised, you might burn the house down,” he teases, earning him a drowsy glare. “I just figured I’d leave you alone for a bit to get some rest. I can sleep on the couch.”
Daniel’s frown deepens, eyebrows furrowing in a way that sends a wave of something through Johnny’s chest. He seems to be in deep thought for a minute, eyes flickering back and forth from Johnny to the floor, until he finally seems to reach a decision. “Can you stay?” He asks, and his voice is so quiet Johnny almost doesn’t hear it. “With me, I mean.”
Johnny’s heart starts beating a little faster. His mouth opens and closes a few times, his throat suddenly feeling suspiciously dry. “I—yeah, sure,” he stammers. “Are you sure though? I really don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”
Daniel shakes his head a little too roughly and rubs at his jaw, a soft whimper escaping his lips. “Stay. Please,” he begs, and he looks at Johnny with those big brown eyes that are full of softness and childlike wonder, a thousand different emotions swirling in their depths, pleading and tender and gentle, and Johnny feels every ounce of his willpower crumble into dust.
“Yeah,” he breathes, giving a shaky nod. It’s not like it could hurt. And at any rate, Daniel probably won’t remember it in the morning. “Yeah, alright LaRusso,” he repeats, and he slips his shoes off before climbing into the bed next to him.
He makes himself comfortable and then turns to look at Daniel, and God, the smile on his face is utterly infectious. His eyes are still tired and a little cloudy, his cheeks flushed and swollen, but he looks happy, content, peaceful, and Johnny can’t help but smile back at him.
“Thanks,” Daniel mumbles, and he shifts so that they’re closer, merely inches apart. His smile turns a little shy and he looks away for a minute, the little crease between his eyebrows coming back, and then he fixes his gaze on Johnny. “Hey, Johnny?”
Johnny looks at him carefully, the proximity and closeness making his head spin and his blood burn hot. “Yeah, Danny?” he asks, soft and careful, the nickname slipping out without thinking, and fuck it, he’s already so far gone that it doesn’t matter.
Daniel’s eyes flit down for a second and a strange expression crosses his face before he looks up at Johnny, and the look in his eyes makes Johnny’s heart seize in his chest. It’s open and honest and clear as the night sky, despite the way his eyes are drooping with exhaustion. He hesitates for a minute, mouth opening and closing ever so slightly like he’s debating whether or not to say something. He shakes his head, just slightly, as if he’s reached a decision, and then settles back into the blankets, whatever he was going to say lost to the night.
(Johnny finds himself desperately aching—no, yearning— to know what it was).
They lay there in silence for God knows how long, no sound but the quiet stillness of their breathing. Johnny wonders if Daniel’s finally given in to the exhaustion that’s been tugging at him all day, lingering just below the surface, when suddenly he stirs, and Johnny can practically feel the smile that crosses his face.
“You’re really hot,” Daniel blurts suddenly, voice a little timid yet unwavering, and Johnny’s heart stops for a minute.
He blinks a few times and looks at Daniel carefully. “I—what?”
“You. Are. Really. Hot,” Daniel repeats, punctuating each word with a little tap on Johnny’s shoulder, and he says it like he’s talking about something as mundane and certain as the weather, like it’s a fact carved into stone. “I mean, you’re kind of gorgeous, Lawrence. You drive me crazy.”
Johnny just gapes at him for a minute, and he feels like his brain is short-circuiting. His mouth opens and closes uselessly, and he feels suddenly lightheaded, his heart absolutely pounding in his chest, and he has no idea how to respond.
He knows it’s the anesthesia talking, knows that Daniel probably doesn’t mean it or at least didn’t mean to say it, but he can’t help but cling to a tiny sliver of hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, Daniel means it. And that hope propels Johnny forward, grounds him like an anchor to a boat in the midst of a turbulent sea, and the gravity and magnitude of his feelings hit him like a bolt of lightning, their meaning suddenly becoming crystal clear.
The months of fighting and running around each other in circles, constantly trading barbs back and forth, the dizzying sense of give and take that he feels whenever they’re together—here in the dark, it all falls neatly into place, and Johnny feels his entire world tilt on its axis, feels the impact of the moment rattle him to his very core.
And in that moment, Johnny Lawrence is certain of one thing: he loves Daniel LaRusso with every fiber of his being. And that thought terrifies him, goes against everything he’s ever known, but here, with Daniel looking at him like he’s the only thing in the entire universe that matters, Johnny can’t bring himself to care.
And he knows that in the morning, it’ll all be different. That Daniel will forget all about it and they’ll go back to their back-and-forth routine, constantly dangling on the edge of the cliff but never quite succeeding in jumping off, and Johnny’s heart suddenly aches.
Tonight. All they have is tonight.
He looks over at Daniel, at his brown eyes burning in the darkness of the room, at his flushed cheeks and messy hair and lovestruck smile that quite literally takes his breath away, and he swallows, willing himself to respond, to say something, that will remotely convey the depth and complexity of the emotions swirling within him right now.
“Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself, LaRusso,” he manages, and the smile Daniel graces him with is like nothing he’s ever seen. He looks up at Johnny for a split second and then closes the distance between them with a soft press of his lips, just the faintest peck, and oh. Oh fuck.
Johnny thinks he’s going to die.
It lasts no longer than a second, Daniel’s lips ghosting against his so softly and tenderly that it can barely be felt, but God, it sends Johnny’s heart flying. Daniel pulls back and they lay there for a minute just staring at each other like a couple of besotted idiots, chests rising and falling in tandem. Neither of them says anything, wanting to savor the moment for as long as possible, and God, it’s everything.
Daniel eventually shifts, just a little, so that his head is tucked against Johnny’s chest, and Johnny can’t help but wrap an arm around him, pulling him closer into his embrace. He presses a soft kiss to Daniel’s forehead, an action he will fervently deny later, and Daniel finally drifts off with a dazed little smile on his face, leaving Johnny alone to wander what the hell just happened.
--
Johnny doesn’t sleep much that night.
He lays there for what feels like hours, Daniel wrapped up in his arms, trying desperately to sort through his feelings and whatever the hell this is. His mind feels scattered to pieces, a million different emotions and thoughts swirling through him, and it’s almost overwhelming.
He replays the night’s events over and over in his head—carrying a begrudging Daniel into the house, climbing into bed with him, Daniel LaRusso kissing him—and he finds himself at a complete loss as to what to do. He can’t decide whether he needs to bring it up in the morning or let it be, whether he should confront Daniel when he wakes up or wait a few weeks to rip off the bandage. Johnny had no idea driving his karate rival turned almost friend to the dentist would end with them practically spooning in bed, Johnny on the brink of a panic attack because LaRusso fucking kissed him.
And through all of this, Johnny is painfully aware of the fact that the one thing he’s not panicking about is the kiss itself. That just thinking about it—the way Daniel’s lips pressed against his, the achingly soft and gentle contact, how Daniel’s smile afterward seemed to warm him from the inside out—sends a rush of warmth and endearment through him that makes him feel dizzy and his heart beat faster.
His feelings for Daniel are real, painfully real, gut wrenchingly, earth shatteringly, achingly real, and just thinking about it sends him into a vicious spiral.
Because everything in him is screaming that this is wrong, that he shouldn’t—no—can’t feel this way, that there’s no way in hell anything remotely resembling a relationship between them could work.
But then he looks down at Daniel, the way his lips are slightly parted in his sleep, the way he somehow looks even younger than he already does, the way his thick dark hair curls just slightly over his forehead, and Johnny tells his insecurities to go fuck themselves.
He doesn’t know how the hell this is going to work. He doesn’t even know if it is going to work. But goddamn it, he has to try.
--
In the end, Johnny decides not to bring it up unless Daniel does. He’s more than aware of his feelings and that he needs to be open about them eventually, but he comes to the conclusion that saying, ‘Hey, do you remember when you were high as a kite on anesthesia and dragged me into your bed and kissed me?’ isn’t the best way to make that confession.
He finally manages to get some sleep and wakes up as the first rays of sun stream through the windows. Daniel is still fast asleep, his arms wrapped around Johnny and head resting on his abdomen like Johnny is his own personal pillow.
It doesn’t bother Johnny nearly as much as it should.
He just lays there for a second, staring down at where Daniel is sprawled across his broader figure, and he can’t help but give in to the smile that’s tugging at his lips. Daniel’s snoring ever so slightly, more of a faint rumble of breath than anything, and his face is scrunched up in a way that Johnny can’t describe as anything other than adorable.
God, this guy will be the death of him.
Johnny reluctantly pries himself out of Daniel’s grasp and pulls the blanket back over him, careful not to disturb his sleep. He gives him one last fleeting glance and then slips out of the room, heading to the small kitchen down the hall.
He takes a seat at the little kitchen table and flips through an old newspaper while he waits for Daniel to wake up, thoughts straying back to the day before. It still feels so strange, so surreal, to finally recognize his infatuation with LaRusso for what it is. Strange, but not unwelcome. And even though he can’t do anything about it yet, even though things will stay the same, Johnny feels better, like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
Balanced, he thinks wryly.
It’s well past nine when Daniel finally stumbles into the kitchen, blearily rubbing his eyes. He’s sleep-ruffled and drowsy in a way that’s honestly adorable, and Johnny smiles up at him from where he’s perched at the kitchen table.
“Well if it isn’t the Italian Stallion himself,” Johnny teases, patting the spot at the table next to him. “How do you feel?”
“My mouth hurts,” Daniel grumbles as he sits down, and yeah, he looks considerably more uncomfortable than he did the day before.
“I’m sorry,” Johnny says, without sarcasm for once. He walks over to the counter and grabs the little bottle of pain pills the dentist sent them home with, setting two down in front of Daniel and handing him a glass of water. “These should help.”
Daniel nods and takes them, wincing a little when he swallows. “Thanks,” he murmurs, looking over at Johnny appreciatively, and there’s a significance to his gaze, something that Johnny can’t quite put his finger on. “For everything, I mean.”
“Anytime, LaRusso,” Johnny assures, and then he smirks. “Besides, someone’s gotta chaperone you when you’re drugged. You get kind of hyper,” he admits, and Daniel groans.
“Shit, what did I do?”
Johnny shakes his head, smirking wider. “Nope. You’re not gonna find out that easy.”
“Aw come on,” Daniel whines, and Johnny just laughs. His expression softens a bit, and he thinks for a second before he continues. “Anything I need to worry about, at least?”
Johnny studies him for a minute, swearing that Daniel looks almost…nervous? He shakes his head, and his words are layered, a hidden meaning seeping through, just in case. “No,” he assures, and his smile is honest, genuine. “No, I don’t think so, LaRusso.”
--
They spend the better part of the afternoon lounging lazily on the couch, trading barbs back and forth while they watch TV. Daniel eats an entire pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream for lunch and then promptly falls asleep, sprawled across one half of the couch and snoring lightly.
Johnny stays there on the couch with him until Daniel wakes up late that afternoon. His face is screwed up in pain and he rubs at his jaw a little, looking uncomfortable.
“You alright, LaRusso?”
“Yeah, it’s just—” he winces, voice a little strained and awkward around his swollen cheeks. “Hurts.”
Johnny frowns and nods, shifting to stand. “I’ll get you an ice pack,” he offers as he turns to head to the kitchen. “Need anything else?”
Daniel shakes his head. “Ice pack is good, thanks,” he murmurs.
Johnny’s got one foot out the door and into the hallway when Daniel chimes up again, and there’s a hint of something in his voice, something light and…fond? “Oh, and Johnny?”
“Hmm?”
“I do, you know.”
Johnny steps back into the living room to look at him curiously. “What?”
Daniel eyes flit down and then he smirks, just slightly. “I think you’re really hot.”
Johnny stops breathing for a second.
“You remember that?” He sputters, stumbling back over to the couch, and Daniel pats the spot next to him. “But I thought—"
“Not all of it,” Daniel assures. “But,” he continues with a sheepish grin, “it’s possible I wasn’t as out of it as I seemed.”
Johnny’s eyes widen and he shakes his head, taking a seat and shuffling closer to him. “You little shit,” he growls, tone accusing but without heat, and Daniel just smirks wider. “You say something like that and then leave me to spend all night freaking out about it?”
“Sorry?” Daniel says, and it’s painfully obvious that he’s anything but.
Johnny shoots him a glare, but there’s a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Daniel turns to face him, shifting closer, and he raises an eyebrow appraisingly. “Freaking out about it, huh?” he inquires. “Does that mean you think I’m hot too?”
His tone is teasing, but there’s the faintest hint of uncertainty in his voice, and Johnny feels a surge of warmth rush through him. His hand comes up to rest on the back of Daniel’s neck and he pulls him closer, smiling down at him with a look of truth and honesty and adoration. “Yeah,” he breathes, and Daniel beams up at him. “Yeah, I think you’re hot, LaRusso.”
Daniel moves first, crashing their lips together with a ferocity that Johnny’s fairly certain was not in the list of instructions the dentist gave them, and Johnny kisses him back just as earnestly. He lets Daniel lead, trying his best to be gentle, but if Daniel’s mouth still hurts he’s not too upset about it. His arm coils around Johnny’s waist, bringing them impossibly closer together, and Johnny tangles a hand in Daniel’s hair, relishing in the softness of it.
The kiss deepens slightly and Daniel lets out a little wince of pain, pulling back a little. Johnny opens his mouth to apologize but stops when Daniel shakes his head, a breathless and dazed expression on his face. “Hey, watch the mouth,” he chides, even though he’s smiling like an idiot and leaning on Johnny like he’s the only thing keeping him upright. “I’m in recovery here.”
Johnny snorts and pulls him closer, running a tentative hand through his hair. “You’re ridiculous,” he mutters fondly.
“But you love it.”
Johnny’s breath catches for a minute before he nods, just barely, and he gazes back at Daniel, feeling more open and exposed than ever before. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”
Daniel lets out a soft little noise, somewhere between a whimper and a gasp, and he blinks up at Johnny, big brown eyes shining with longing and uncertainty. “Yeah?” he breathes, and Johnny wouldn’t even hear it if they weren’t so close together.
Johnny cups a gentle hand around his jaw and traces it lightly, calloused thumb running over his jawline, and he smiles, bright and wide and genuine. “Yeah, Danny.”
Daniel’s smile is so bright that he looks like a kid on Christmas morning and Johnny can’t help but pull him back in for another kiss. It’s softer, not as needy or desperate, but every bit as incredible, and when they finally part, Johnny feels like he’s floating on cloud nine.
Daniel settles back into his arms, leaning his head on Johnny’s shoulder, and Johnny pulls him impossibly closer, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his temple. Daniel smiles and leans into the touch and they just sit there for a while, grinning like a couple of lovestruck fools and savoring the warmth of each other.
“Hey, Johnny?” Daniel mutters after a while, and Johnny shifts to look at him.
“Yeah?”
“About that ice pack,” Daniel says sheepishly, and Johnny curses himself inwardly for forgetting. “My mouth really does hurt.”
“Shit, yeah, I’m sorry,” Johnny apologizes, and he’s about to sprint into the kitchen when a hand clasps around his wrist, soft and gentle.
“Hey,” Daniel whispers, rubbing gentle circles into the back of his hand, and Johnny feels himself slowly begin to settle. “Worth it.”
Johnny looks back at him and almost melts at the expression on his face, content and light and tender. His hair is all ruffled and messy, his lips are red and ridiculously swollen, and he looks a little dazed and out of breath, but he’s looking at Johnny like he’s the only thing in the entire universe that matters, and Johnny’s heart swells.
Yeah, he thinks with a smile. Worth it.