LIMO POSSE: a lawrusso nsfw fanfiction.
Summary : After the aftermath of the fight at the dojo in the season five finale, Johnny and Daniel have a talk after everyone else leaves. Alone at the back of the limo, they begin to discover things about each other. Being them, it ends up heated and messy and so very them.
Notes: I haven't written smut in a long time but here is my attempt to some emotional porn. And of course, the first to get this treatment are my idiot men. Enjoy. This is an old fanfic I wrote for my now deleted AO3.
They make sure to take all of the kids back to their homes. That was the priority for the night. Shannon came by to pick Robby up and the look on her face when she saw he was injured made both men ache. But she didn’t blame them, simply hugged Daniel as she always does, somehow always grateful for what he does, and with Johnny. . .they were working things out. But she nods in his direction. She takes Tory too and some of the Reseda kids and part ways. Carmen and Amanda leave together and take Miguel, Sam, and Anthony with them.
“That’s not fair, I want to stay with dad.” Anthony proclaims as he gushes like the kid he once knew about how cool he was and how his dad was much better than other dads. But Amanda nudges him forward. They are all aware of how much he and Johnny needed to talk. The ambulance takes both Chozen and Barnes, at Daniel’s insistence and he watches them go, and all of a sudden, they are alone.
In front of a Cobra Kai dojo, now empty, the sirens are gone and so are the kids. Silver is gone. Kreese is out of jail. Somehow, what had felt like the end, now felt like a prelude to another storm. Johnny is not unreadable, though. For all of his tough exterior, the alcohol and adrenaline had left him worn down, ripe for the plucking, and for Daniel to see through him.
He is troubled. Who wouldn’t be? Somehow, they end up at the back of the dojo, all doors locked because of evidence and all that police procedure. The limo had been parked there and no one had taken it. Louie would kill him but for now, it felt like a little safe haven for both of them. To sit and relax. Side by side, knees bumping into one another as they breathe. He needs the moment to refocus back into reality, half expecting Johnny to complain, except, all he hears is the other man on his side.
Daniel doesn’t realize Johnny is mimicking his breathing until the third time he inhales and looks to his side, the man breathing deeply and releasing. Somehow, he is transfixed by the sight, the way his chest fills up, blue eyes closed as he focuses on it.
It almost feels rude to wake Johnny up from the exercise but they can’t just sit beside one another like that and do nothing. “Johnny. . .it’s gonna be okay. We got this.” Because what else is left to say? Daniel let his head linger by the side, focusing on Johnny as his eyes open and he stares straight ahead. “God, I’m tired, but. . .we just need a plan, be prepared-”
“--Aren’t you tired of us, man?” A pause at the interruption, as blue eyes finally snap back at him. They always make him so alert, because he isn’t sure how to react to them, not even now when they are friends. Johnny is like the ocean, unpredictable but you can walk away from it once you are swept under his force. He is about to ask what he means when the man just continues. “We have been at each other’s throats for thirty-four years. We fight, all the fucking time.”
He frowns, yeah, they kept doing that but lately, they've just been circling around each other. Just friends. Something grows inside the pit of his belly, and he aches, thinking of what it could mean. Under all that fighting and hatred, is it really that simple? They could be so much more and yet, friends don't simply cut it. “We are talking now, Johnny.”
Their knees bump into each other again as Johnny moves closer, crowding him against the door of the limousine. His whole body tense and prepares, like it often does, as Johnny is gripping the sides of his jacket and pulling, and Oh , that’s familiar. “Fight, talk, we keep doing this shit. Do you feel like talking?” The question hangs in the air and he almost misses it, because of the way he feels Johnny’s hot breath hitting his mouth.
Too close. His body tries to wiggle out of the pressure of the others like it often did in high school. Except for this time, he feels something pressuring him back. Oh . That was different. What the fuck. It feels heavy against him, where it was clear that he was feeling the same way. “What do you want to do then, Johnny?” And fuck, he should probably fight back and tell Johnny that he is drunk. Except not drunk enough because he hasn’t felt this clear in years.
He is tired too. Fighting is all they did. They keep their distance and be friends now except it doesn’t feel like it’s enough for either one. But there is something in those blue eyes as he feels the grip on him loosen. “Don’t fuck with me, LaRusso.”
Daniel doesn’t let him say anything else before he moves and leans forward, surging Johnny’s lips into a kiss and shutting him up. And it’s so sloppy, between the stingy breath of alcohol and the taste of blood and yet, so perfect. It’s uncomfortable, his back aches from the position he is pressed on but he can’t really hate it when Johnny presses down and feels him through the fabrics of clothes.
“I am fucking with you , Johnny. No fight, or talk. You could’ve died today.” I could’ve lost you . And Johnny attacks his lips again, and finally, he feels some of that aggression he loves on Johnny come back with full force as his tongue presses into his mouth and Daniel opens up for him, moaning into the feeling, exploring each other with too much force, too much need.
Fuck . Thirty-four years to figure this shit out. And yet, he can’t have it any other way, as strong hands grip his waist and pull him up, close. His legs straddling Johnny’s and he takes a moment to breathe and not hit the ceiling with his head. They really are doing this. Holy Fuck. “Off.” He points toward Johnny’s jacket as he struggles with his own.
This isn’t how he pictured it though. In his shame, when they met again, he had imagined it differently. At the dojo, under the stars, sitting side by side on the pond. Or on Johnny’s unsanitary warehouse as he presses him down to the dirty floor and holds him down, just the perfect middle between fighting and fucking.
Somehow this is better and just the same. Because Johnny is mouthing on him now, lips attached to the side of his neck and nibbling on sensitive skin there as his hands fail to unbutton his shirt.
“So fucking slow, LaRusso.” And it shouldn’t be as hot as it is when Johnny just pulls on the fabric and the buttons fly around, and the cold air hits his exposed skin. Jesus, what a caveman. Somehow, it makes his body grind down, seeking some friction and when that elicits a strangled sound from Johnny, he does it again. As he tears away the fabric of the shirt, Johnny does the same for his own and his hands reach down between them, where their bodies meet.
He kisses him again, as his hands find the zipper of Johnny’s trousers and pull it down, feeling the heat that radiates from the other’s body. Fuck, of course, he is big. Bastard. He palms him through the clothes, lips lingering on his own. “If we are gonna do this, you better start using my name, Johnny.” He kisses him again, breathing out a strained moan as he feels a hand on himself, somehow, through the words and the struggle, Johnny had managed to get a grip on him, stroking his cock, straining against the fabric of his underwear.
And Johnny nibbles at him again, one arm sneaking through his middle and gripping tightly, pulling him down into the seats. Eyes rack down to where the blond is now pulling his pants down and Daniel feels like a teenager, about to get it on in the back of a car except, shit, his teen self would never be able to afford a limousine. He manages to wiggle out of his own pants and push them away, inhibitions are damned.
Johnny wraps his legs with one arm and pulls him close, as he settles in between his legs. Shit, they don’t even have lube for this. He isn’t even sure if they have time for the full thing. He doesn’t really care, as he feels the weight of Johnny’s cock against his own and one grip holding them both together, stroking the heads with quick movement. They moan at the same time, out of breath and overwhelmed, his hands moving to grip Johnny’s hip and gripping, scratching.
He groans against him and moves to thrust harder against him. “I can take it, come on. I know you can do better.” Daniel aches for something bruising. It should bruise Johnny. It needs to ache and bruise and leave him dazed for another thirty-four years. “You talk too much, Daniel .” And the use of his name leaves him shuddering at the ache he feels. “Little shit, you always did.” He wants Johnny to consume him and to return the favor. Feels like it's never enough.
Johnny shifts, it would be easier with him on his stomach but somehow, neither wants to stop looking at each other. He doesn’t mind, as he watches Johnny figure out his next move, slotting the head of his cock to Daniel’s crack and test driving that with a move. “Squeeze.” And Daniel does and he thrust again, and oh fuck, that’s good .
“Yeah, right there.” And somehow, like everything else, they fall into a rhythm. It’s messy and tangled, but that's all them . The weight of Johnny on him, pushing him down, the hand that sneaks into his throat to keep him in place as he begins to piston against him, and he sneaks a hand to his own cock because it feels too much and he feels so close.
Not enough time, but the perfect time for them. “I want to be inside you, man. Fuck. You feel so good.” The sincerity is raw and unheard of but god, he wants the same. He tightens his leg grip around Johnny, free hand holding the man’s hand on his throat, not pressuring but not letting go either. He wants him there. At the moment, with him.
He always forgets how to breathe around Johnny anyways. It’s only fair he takes his breath again at the moment. “I want you inside too. Next time, yeah? Yeah , next time, I’ll even let you come inside, that’s what I need.” Jesus, where did that come from? Daniel isn’t sure but it does something to Johnny as he moans and grips his throat tighter and there is a relentless ache between his legs before the blond man collapses on him.
Warm hit his ass and part of his thighs and he just had Johnny Lawrence come on him, and it felt like the most glorious thing. He follows next, as Johnny nips on the side of his ear, pulling and tugging on the earlobe and hands holding his stomach as he hits his peak, Johnny’s name on his tongue like a prayer. A promise. He convulses through it all, hot breath against his skin, Johnny's own cock rubbing against sensitive skin and he shivers. "Fuck yeah, Daniel."
Coming down from the bliss, he fears whatever this was. Adrenaline or just a rush would be gone. But Johnny is looking back at him, closing the distance for a gentle kiss that takes his breath away again. “Hey.” He mumbles against the other man’s lips.
Johnny scoffs back, but he lingers on, and his grip is still tight on his hips, hands shifting to touch his cum against his stomach. Somehow, he should find it gross but it only makes him let out a breathless laugh. “Hey, LaRusso.” A pause, as he seems to reconsider. “ Daniel .”
He smiles, he feels sticky and messy, tired. They are not teenagers anymore to be frottaging against each other in a backseat but here they are. And it feels like a long time coming. “Let’s go home.”
It feels like home, though. Right there. With Johnny slotted between his legs and the weight of his body against his. Just perfectly right.