EVEN FLOW| LAWRUSSO

2

January 1985

The worst part about all of this, Johnny decides, is the fact that he fucking remembers. He remembers and it's humiliating. The more he recalls the night, daniels hands in his hair and around his dick, the tiny whispers pushed from his pink lips and the promise to be nice to him while he left burning marks on his neck- speaking of- he glides his hand across his neck and collarbone, landing on the tender flesh above the bone and huffing. They're probably purple, he thinks, purple and sweet because Daniel promised to be nice to him but he wishes in the moment he had the ability to beg him to be mean. He deserved it anyways.

When he gets downstairs, hickeys covered by a clean shirt and alcohol related vomit long gone, Sid is gone and Laura's sitting in the living room, wrapped in a pink fuzzy robe and holding a coffee mug with both hands. She turns to him as he lands on the flat surface of the floor and smiles, smile lines creasing on her face and forehead "morning baby." She says, Johnny just grunts and continues to the kitchen.

Then, as Johnnys buttering some toast she pipes up from the living room "So," she says, and johnnys only half listening, too deep in trying to forget about all the bullshit he'll have to hear from Daniel Larusso Monday morning and getting this butter to spread evenly.

"That Daniel kid seems nice. No more fighting?"
It takes a lot of willpower not to drop the knife in his hand, he quivers and stops his hand mid swipe, butter knife barely above the bread and eyebrows knit "what?" He says; leaning his head through the opening of the kitchen bar "what do you mean?"

"He brought you home last night, nice kid. Isn't he the one you used to beat up on?"

"Mom-"

"I'm happy you put your differences aside though, really, it's a good show of character."

Johnny puts  the butter knife down beside his plate and puts his face in his hands, if he could, if he didn't care so much, he'd hit the first thing he saw. But he cares a little bit too much, so he lets it go and makes a break for the stairs.

He knows she's watching him, feels her eyes as he takes two steps at a time back to his room, and he knows she won't say anything but she's always fucking looking and that freaks him out more then when she isn't.

"Johnny! It's nothing to be embarrassed about! HES NICE!" Her shouts muffle out the farther he gets. There is nothing NOT to be embarrassed about, and what does she know about him anyway? He's an annoying piece of shit and Johnny hates him a little too much.

He closes the door as soon as he gets up there with a groan, willing himself not to slam it shut and scream like a little bitch. Instead, settling for tightening his free hand into a fist and shaking it like he wishes he could shake Daniel.

fuck the toast, he thinks as he starts tearing it up like his last meal, he's Safe in his room with the door shut and his hands balled into fists at his side, still afraid of what he said, afraid of what he did and fucking Daniel Larusso and his stupid ass note still sitting on Johnnys nightstand and his stupidly pretty face and his insatiable dick, fuck that guy all around. He should've been stronger, what a little bitch to give in after 2 shots. He's usually stronger then that.

He finishes his toast in a haste, eyebrows furrowed and muscles tense like an animal watching its prey, except he's not watching Daniel, he's just thinking of him and thinking of him elicits this shaking response from his body, like he's going to explode beneath his skin and walk around like a bulky Johnny Lawrence shaped balloon.

The more he stares at the wall and ponders it, the more he lets his cheeks warm up and his dick kick in his pants at the memories, the more it freaks him out. He decides to leave, tossing daniels note into the trash as he does. He throws on his workout clothes and decides he'd rather run himself empty then think about Daniel Larusso and his stupid dick for the rest of the weekend.