Hi there OP! I’m hoping to post this story over the space of two days. I hope you enjoy! Also as a content warning, there are implications of a traumatic event that happened to Daniel that I’ll be blunter about come part 3 of 4.
Under different circumstances than these, the sight, sound and feel of Johnny Lawrence desperately writhing in Daniel’s lap on his bed and begging him to fuck him would have been a dream. However, Daniel Larusso was living with these circumstances, and the smell of far too much cheap whiskey on Johnny’s breath was entirely to blame, both for Johnny stumbling into Mr. Miyagi’s home at all and Daniel’s discomfort with the situation, trying not to think of his own drunken vulnerability from a long time ago mirrored in Johnny’s face.
“Fuck me,” Johnny proceeded to whine for the twenty-fourth time that night (yes, Daniel was counting).
“Johnny Lawrence, you are drunk and don’t know what you’re saying,” Daniel answered for the twenty-fourth time in his failed attempt to get Johnny off his lap.
Johnny started nuzzling Daniel’s neck and murmured, pointedly bouncing on Daniel’s lap, “Bullshit, I’ve wanted to get obliterated by your twinky ass since you kicked me in the face in 1984.”
Daniel deadpanned, hoping the tone of his voice would mask just how red his face was getting, “Really. That long?”
“Even longer than that, Larusso. I wanted to be the one obliterating your twinky ass before the tournament, wanted Ali to have to watch me take you apart with my dick–”
Danie was eternally grateful to Mr. Miyagi for teaching him those breathing exercises, for he needed every last one of them to not have the fantasy of Johnny ravaging him while someone else watched consume his mind.
“I know you’re doing your stupid breathing exercises, Larusso! Stop doing them and fuck me, damn it!”
Daniel didn’t know how the idea sprang forth; perhaps it was the divorce and its accompanying celibacy getting to him, perhaps it was the drunken insult to Mr. Miyagi’s teachings that Johnny would never say when sober, perhaps it was the memory of one of the worst nights of his life threatening to creep in front of his eyes, perhaps it was thirty-odd years of Daniel’s own repressed desire spilling from his lips, and knowing him it was probably all four of them at once. He held Johnny by the shoulders and snapped, “Stop it, you little brat.”
Johnny outright whined before snapping, “You’re the little brat for not giving me what I want, Larusso, you’ve always been a twinky little brat."
Daniel took a deep breath and commanded, “Sit outside on the deck like a good boy and then I’ll decide whether I’m fucking you tonight or not.”
Johnny cocked his head and asked, “And if I don’t?”
“Then there’s no way you’re getting my cock in you tonight.”
Daniel found himself both relieved and quite flattered when Johnny drunkenly jumped off his lap and hastily stumbled to the deck.
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timeasmymeasure
Twinky Little Brat 1/4
Date: 2020-11-29 05:09 am (UTC)Under different circumstances than these, the sight, sound and feel of Johnny Lawrence desperately writhing in Daniel’s lap on his bed and begging him to fuck him would have been a dream. However, Daniel Larusso was living with these circumstances, and the smell of far too much cheap whiskey on Johnny’s breath was entirely to blame, both for Johnny stumbling into Mr. Miyagi’s home at all and Daniel’s discomfort with the situation, trying not to think of his own drunken vulnerability from a long time ago mirrored in Johnny’s face.
“Fuck me,” Johnny proceeded to whine for the twenty-fourth time that night (yes, Daniel was counting).
“Johnny Lawrence, you are drunk and don’t know what you’re saying,” Daniel answered for the twenty-fourth time in his failed attempt to get Johnny off his lap.
Johnny started nuzzling Daniel’s neck and murmured, pointedly bouncing on Daniel’s lap, “Bullshit, I’ve wanted to get obliterated by your twinky ass since you kicked me in the face in 1984.”
Daniel deadpanned, hoping the tone of his voice would mask just how red his face was getting, “Really. That long?”
“Even longer than that, Larusso. I wanted to be the one obliterating your twinky ass before the tournament, wanted Ali to have to watch me take you apart with my dick–”
Danie was eternally grateful to Mr. Miyagi for teaching him those breathing exercises, for he needed every last one of them to not have the fantasy of Johnny ravaging him while someone else watched consume his mind.
“I know you’re doing your stupid breathing exercises, Larusso! Stop doing them and fuck me, damn it!”
Daniel didn’t know how the idea sprang forth; perhaps it was the divorce and its accompanying celibacy getting to him, perhaps it was the drunken insult to Mr. Miyagi’s teachings that Johnny would never say when sober, perhaps it was the memory of one of the worst nights of his life threatening to creep in front of his eyes, perhaps it was thirty-odd years of Daniel’s own repressed desire spilling from his lips, and knowing him it was probably all four of them at once. He held Johnny by the shoulders and snapped, “Stop it, you little brat.”
Johnny outright whined before snapping, “You’re the little brat for not giving me what I want, Larusso, you’ve always been a twinky little brat."
Daniel took a deep breath and commanded, “Sit outside on the deck like a good boy and then I’ll decide whether I’m fucking you tonight or not.”
Johnny cocked his head and asked, “And if I don’t?”
“Then there’s no way you’re getting my cock in you tonight.”
Daniel found himself both relieved and quite flattered when Johnny drunkenly jumped off his lap and hastily stumbled to the deck.