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itsmarsss · 24 days

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Maybe. [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

(~from the vault~)

Miguel Diaz is annoying. That you are convinced of. Sure, you've never really talked to him, but still, you live a very happy life that way. But then one day he gets wasted at a party and you end up with the unfortunate job of driving him home. Sounds like just your luck.

Warnings: making out, little jokes about sex, some sexual tension there. enemies to lovers except the enemies part is completely one-sided

Word count: 9,567

[...]

Miguel Diaz wasn’t the kind of guy to have a lot of enemies.

He had, in fact, become fairly popular after he started doing karate and won a fight against West Valley’s biggest bully, surpassing the loser label that had immediately been slapped onto him when he’d moved into the neighborhood.

He was the typical nice guy who pretty much everyone seemed to like. Good at school, the type who wouldn’t hesitate to help you with schoolwork if you asked him to. Always nice to everyone, greeting and smiling at random people he’d never talked to before in the hallways as if they were one of his friends.

But, to you, Miguel Diaz was just irritating.

Everything about him somehow made you mad. He was just so apparently perfect and all of a sudden people couldn’t seem to shut up about him and that was sure to make you nothing short of annoyed. Yeah, you supposed he did seem nice, but you were positive it was impossible that all that sudden praising hadn’t gotten to his head.

You were convinced he was a huge asshole deep down, just a loser who got lucky enough. And though you had no real evidence to back that up, yet to see this facade of his that you convinced yourself of, you still couldn’t get yourself to like him.

Whatever. You could survive a life without him in it.

It didn’t help, though, that your best friend was friends with him. Did karate with him, too. Aisha absolutely loved Miguel, and seemed to make sure to mention it to you all the time.

They were genuinely good friends, and so you supposed you did feel a little bad when you dragged her to sit with you and away from her Cobra Kai friends during lunch, but you were positive that if you tried to sit with them you’d end up saying some not very nice things, and you weren’t up for drama at the moment.

But she kept bugging you about it, insistently so, and god, could Aisha be persistent when she wanted to. So one day, to shut her up about it mostly, you agreed to go with her and her friends to a party at the canyon.

You told her you’d try to be nice, but made a promise to yourself to keep distance from a certain someone specifically. Maybe then you’d be able to enjoy the night and- hey- maybe even the others’ company.

Maybe.

[. . .]

“Don’t just stand there!” Aisha laughed.

“Since when are you a party person?”

“Since I realized I could throw them!”

Wait, what? “Wait, this is your party?”

“Well it’s a Cobra Kai party…”

Alright, so you didn’t want to give it to them. Cobra Kai as a whole annoyed you to no end, as it seemed to be a breeding factory for nerds turned into stuck-up assholes, but you couldn’t deny you were grateful for how much it helped Aisha. The Aisha you knew a few months prior would have never had the guts to throw a party, let alone assume people would attend it.

So, fair enough. “Cool!” “Hey Aisha come watch me do a keg stand!” Some guy you’d seen walking around with the Cobra Kai guys before yelled from the other side of the place.

Aisha glanced back at you, seemingly a bit torn about leaving you. “Do you wanna come?”

“No it’s fine. I think I’m gonna grab something to drink. Now go!” You assured her, smiling. You wanted her to enjoy having other friends.

You barely had time to pick yourself up a drink before you weren’t alone anymore.

“Y/N!” A guy wearing a graphic t-shirt that quite literally read ‘📍your mom’ under a flower pattern button-up called your name, walking towards you. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused, as you were completely sure you’d never talked to him before.

You didn’t know how to feel about not being so invisible anymore, all by association with Aisha. It definitely felt a little weird. “Um. Have we- have we met? Sorry.”

“Not really. But Aisha talks about you a lot. I’m Demetri, by the way,” he held out his hand, and you shook it. What teenager shakes hands these days?

“Well, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I know,” he laughed. “So, you want me to show you everyone?”

“Uh. Okay. Sure. Yeah. That'd be cool."

“So, that’s Eli-” He pointed at the guy who sported a blue-dyed mohawk, and was currently rather busy making out with someone you actually knew- Moon. You didn’t exactly like Moon, but you supposed she did seem to be more of an out-of-touch person than a mean one, compared to her friends. “Uh yeah, who’s apparently making out with Moon. Somehow. He likes to be called Hawk now but I think that’s pretty ridiculous.”

“It is.”

“Yeah well he used to uh- some people used to call him Lip. ‘Cause he has a scar.”

“That’s him?” Said boy pulled away from Moon, and you took a good look at him. It was him. You always thought he looked cute, but you had to admit now he looked kind of hot.

You did had to give Cobra Kai some credit in that area too.

“Yeah.” Demetri turned you around. “Those two walking down are Robby and Samantha and-” He seemed to realize something, suddenly looking worried.

“Something wrong?”

“No uh. I don’t really talk to them. That,” he spun you around one last time, “Is Miguel. But you must know him already.”

“Yeah I’ve heard of him.” He was downing a beer bottle at rapid speed. “He’s really getting shitfaced,” you pointed out.

Demetri still looked worried, nervous. “Yeah uh, Sam’s his girlfriend.”

“The one walking down the hill?”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“He thinks she’s cheating on him. With Robby.”

You looked at the two again, laughing, their fingers intertwined. You could be taking it wrong, of course, but it did look like they were together in some way. It wasn’t that far of a stretch to feel a little jealous of a scene like that at least. “Oh that sucks.”

You weren’t heartless, okay? Just because you didn’t like the guy didn’t mean you wanted him to get cheated on. If that’s what was even happening.

“We should go-” Demetri grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you with him on Miguel’s direction.

“What? No-” You weren’t heartless, but you weren’t his friend either. What were you going to do, comfort him? Let him cry on your shoulder? Come on now.

But you didn’t even have the time to protest. You were already there, and it seemed that so were the Samantha girl and the Robby guy , and Miguel didn’t look pleased.

Well, he was laughing, but it was definitely not a good kind of laugh.

“So I don’t have to worry, right? Well that’s funny.”

Miguel was wasted.

He tried to pick up a fight, and ended up hitting his own girlfriend on accident, which had, expectedly, resulted in her breaking up with him on the spot. Now you were sitting beside him, and you didn’t know what to do.

Wouldn’t it be best if you just left? Clearly you shouldn’t be here, his actual friends should be dealing with this. But then again it would be too shitty to leave Aisha on her own. You had agreed to be her designated driver after all.

Everyone was quiet, apparently not knowing what to say. God, someone really should bring the guy home.

Hawk spoke up, finally, voicing those same thoughts. “Um, dude, you should go home.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re really drunk, man, just go home.”

“I walked here.”

“Shit. Right. Do any of you have a car?” Demetri asked no one in particular.

“Oh Aisha does. Well it’s her dad’s,” you pointed out, not really thinking it through.

Aisha’s look shot up. “But-” You could see she was conflicted. You could understand. Finally people wanted her around, and she wanted to stay a little longer for that.

You could not believe you were about to do this.

“I’m such a good friend,” you muttered, standing up, and Aisha looked at you, puzzled. You held your hand out. "Gimme the keys."

"What-"

"Do it before I change my mind."

She did as you said, placing it on your hand. You took another look at Miguel, then at Hawk. "Can you help him?"

Hawk immediately stood up to do so, and you made your way to Aisha's car, leaving both Aisha and Demetri behind with a promise you'd come back later to drive them all home too.

"Do you know where he lives?"

Hawk was done shoving a now barely conscious Miguel into the passenger's seat, buckling the seatbelt for him, which you took notice of. He seemed to care a lot about Miguel. "Yeah I'll- can you give me your number? I'll forward it."

"Sure."

[. . .]

"Where are we going?" At some point along the way Miguel seemed to have gained a little consciousness back, his eyes widening as he took bearing of his surroundings. You could understand why. He was in a random car going who-knows-where with a kind of random person who hated him. Well he didn’t really know about that last part, but still.

"I'm taking you home."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, my mom can't see me like this."

"What?"

"I can't go home like this you don't get it-"

"But where-"

"She's been so proud of me lately, I-" Was he… crying? So he was an emotional drunk. Miguel Diaz, a crier. Who would've thought.

"Well where the fuck am I supposed to take you?"

"I- sensei- no he lives next door you can't-"

"Diaz I'm gonna take you home. I don't care."

"Fuck."

You actually took a good look at him when you had to stop at a red light. He looked a mess. He was sweating, hair sticking to his forehead, legs shaking in anxiety.

You couldn't be this soft, right?

You sighed in annoyance, but you were doing this to yourself, really. "I'll take you to my place. But you better sober up cause you're gonna have to get in through the window."

He seemed surprised. "You'll do that?"

"Yeah don't get used to it. I'm kicking you out as soon as I wake up."

He stayed silent the whole ride, until you turned the engine off.

"Thanks," he muttered under his breath, before you opened the door to get out. You didn't reply.

You helped him out, holding him by his wrists until he got his balance back, and you both climbed through your bedroom window, which you were now thankful you'd left open.

"G’mme your phone."

“Why?”

“I’m gonna text your mom.” He unlocked it, getting the password wrong a few times before handing it to you. The texts you sent were simple.

hey mom im really tired gonna stay at demetri’s call you in the morning!

You didn’t know if trusting Miguel to be alone with his phone, in that state, especially after what had gone down at the canyon, was the smartest choice, so you took it with you, stuffing it in your back pocket.

“Okay look I still gotta get Aisha and the guys, so I'm trusting you to keep quiet." This was a bad idea. "Can you do that?" This was a terrible idea.

He nodded before plopping down on your bed. This was a horrible idea.

He was asleep in a second, and there was nothing else you could do but hope he'd stay that way as you climbed your way back out.

. . .

"Okay any of you that wanna get home get in the fucking car please," you said, not really up to stay and wait even more for them. After all, every second you were there was one more second in which a completely wasted Miguel Diaz was alone in your room, with your mom right there in hers.

All three got inside pretty quickly, and you dropped them off as fast as you could. Demetri first, then Hawk, Aisha last.

You actually got in through the door this time, so your mom would know you'd gotten home without having to go check your room. You prayed she hadn't done that already.

"Mom? You awake?"

"Yes! The party done?"

"Yeah. Had to drop some friends off, sorry I took too long."

"It's fine. Didn't Aisha pick you up though?"

"Oh yeah she left the car with me, got to be the driver for today. I’ll just pick her up tomorrow.”

"Oh okay honey!”

"Well I'm really tired. Gonna go to sleep.”

"Yeah, me too. Goodnight!"

“‘Night, Love you!”

With that, you quickly took off to your room to check on Miguel, who, surprisingly, was still asleep on your bed.

Your relief quickly washed away when you registered the fact that he was asleep… on your bed. You know, where you were supposed to sleep. Fucking great.

You considered waking him up and making him sleep on the floor. For… reasons that had everything to do with not being an asshole, and nothing to do with anything else at all, you didn’t.

You grabbed some blankets and placed them on the floor beside your bed, snatching one of your pillows from under his head. This was going to absolutely kill your spine.

You took one last look at him, and couldn’t contain a laugh at how ridiculous he looked, draped over the bed, hair disheveled, literally drooling. You’d have to change your pillowcase tomorrow.

‘Good-fucking-night, I guess.'

[. . .]

Your alarm went off at 7, as it always did on school mornings, and you jumped awake when you remembered how gross you probably were after the previous night. Miguel was still in deep sleep when you left to take a shower, but was sitting up on the bed, looking confused, when you came back. He’d apparently already taken the advil you left for him on your nightstand, as it was nowhere to be found.

“Are you- what am I doing here?”

“Drank too much. Cried like a baby when I tried to drive you home,” you shrugged. “Now hurry up, dude, or we’re gonna be late.”

“What?”

“Look we’ll talk in the car, I can’t be late for chemistry again or Mr. Henderson is gonna be up my ass about it.”

He still looked completely out of the loop, barely awake yet, but nodded, standing up and following you to the car.

“Why’d you bring me here?” He finally spoke up after a couple minutes in silence. It seemed that he was finally becoming fully aware of what was going on.

“I was actually gonna bring you home, but you started crying ‘cause you didn’t want your mom to see you drunk or whatever. So. Next best thing.”

“Thank you.” He paused. “So, uh. you’re friends with Aisha, right? She talks a lot about you-”

You cut him short. “Look, just because I let you stay over and sleep in my bed doesn’t mean we’re friends, alright? You don’t have to be friendly just ‘cause you think you owe me something.”

“Um, I was just trying to be nice-”

“I’m not an asshole, I wasn’t gonna do you like that. I’m very nice, you’re very welcome, whatever.”

“Are you- are you... mad at me?” He looked surprised- no, dumbfounded was a more fitting word to describe it.

You scoffed. In truth, you still had no idea what about him got you so irritated. It’s not like he wasn’t being nice.

Still, you couldn’t help it. “What, can you not believe there’s one person out there who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on?” Okay, so you were exaggerating. So what? Not like it was gonna make much of a difference for him.

“I don’t think anyone worships the ground I walk on.”

"Whatever, Diaz. I’m only doing this ‘cause you’re Aisha’s friend.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

“About what?”

“Your girlfriend, or whatever.”

He hesitated. “Yeah, it’s fine. I was an asshole last night. Should’ve expected it. I’ll get over it.”

“Yeah. Oh Hawk’s bringing you a hoodie, by the way. So you don’t smell like alcohol at school.”

“Thank you.”

Nope. “His idea.”

He nodded. “Right.”

It wasn’t long until you pulled up into Aisha’s driveway, making your way out and around the car and opening the passenger's door to find Miguel staring at you, silently asking what you wanted.

"Move. I take shotgun when Aisha drives."

"Does that really-" He didn't bother finishing his sentence, letting out a sigh before unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out.

"Thank you," you said, making sure it didn't actually sound like you were thankful at all, before hopping in. Miguel did the same, getting in the backseat.

You quickly separated as soon as you got to school, with Miguel following Hawk to change into the hoodie he brought him, and you and Aisha getting on your way to Chemistry with Mr. Henderson.

Aisha shot you a weird look. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"You're being a total bitch to him! What happened to the person that took him home last night? Let him stay over?"

"For your information I do have empathy, you know? He was crying!”

"You still could've just taken him home," she shrugged, a smug look on her face. Jerk.

"Hey this is all on you! He left my bed reeking of beer, you owe me a big one."

"He slept in your bed?"

"And I slept on the floor, dumbass! He was passed out drunk!"

"Yeah sorry I don’t think I remember a lot of it. But you slept on the floor? That must've hurt."

"It did. So he should be very thankful."

"I... think he is. You're just not letting him thank you."

"Hey I let him thank me! But that doesn't mean we have to be friends. I'm doing pretty well without him in my life."

"Just admit he's not as bad as you thought and move on!"

"Oh fuck off. What do you want me to do next, marry him or something?"

"Hey you’re the one who’s bringing it up,” she put her hands up in surrender, as if defending herself.

"Shut up. Pay attention, Ms. Robinson!" You mocked her, turning to the projector in front of you.

[. . .]

"Yeah right like Demetri could win a fight against Hawk."

"I think he could! If he got some training." Aisha protested, laughing.”

"Oh come on have you seen the guy? I don't know what your sensei's been feeding him but he's like jacked now."

"Oh so you've been paying attention?" She raised an eyebrow in an exaggeratedly suggestive manner.

"Like I'd want something to do with a guy from Cobra Kai."

"Hey!"

"You're an exception! You are on thin ice though."

"Well I think you should give them a chance."

Of course you could see right through her. "If by them you mean Miguel's included then you can forget it."

"What is it with you and him anyway? What did he ever even do to you?

"Nothing? I don't know, he just makes me mad. You can't be that perfect and not be an asshole."

"Did you just call him perfect?"

"I was being mean about it!"

"You totally d-" She stopped mid-sentence when she noticed you weren't paying attention, your eyes focused on something right behind her. She turned around to face…

Well, speak of the devil.

"What?" You asked him dryly. What could he possibly have to talk to Aisha about right now that required interrupting your lunch?

But he was actually talking to you. "I uh- I think I left my phone at your place? I can't find it anywhere."

You mentally cursed yourself for it, remembering you'd taken it with you the night before. "Shit yeah. I was scared you'd call someone or it would ring and my mom would hear or something. I guess… You can come over to get it after school if you want."

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks." He was about to turn around and walk back to the table he was sitting at with his friends before he stopped. "Do you guys wanna like. Sit with us?"

Aisha looked at you expectantly.

"No, we're good," you replied, and he nodded, making his way back.

"Dude! Let's just go!"

"What I already have to see him after school and now you want me to spend lunch with him? No thank you."

"You're so stupid."

You stuck your middle finger out at her before going back to eating.

[. . .]

You had already told Aisha goodbye, and were about to leave when he came up to you again. “Hey! Y/n! Wait-”

You turned around to face him. He was out of breath, clearly having run all the way up to you. You quirked an eyebrow, demanding him to tell you what he wanted. This was like a 400% increase on your Miguel Diaz interaction scale and you were right about done.

“My phone.”

Oh, right. He was coming over, like, right away. That was great.

“Yeah right. I’m walking home though.”

“Yeah I’ll- I’ll walk with you.”

And what an awkward fucking walk.

“Well here it is,” you handed him the phone, and he took it, stuffing it in his back pocket.

“Alright, thanks.”

“Sure.”

“See you at school?”

Hopefully not. “I guess.”

[. . .]

“Oh I’ll- be right back!” You heard Miguel’s voice behind you as you walked through the hallway alone, on your way to bio, and made sure not to look his way, hoping he wouldn’t see you.

You had no luck with that.

“Y/n!”

You let out a defeated sigh before turning around. He was wearing a deep-red hoodie, which was something you took notice off, for some reason.

“Yes?”

“Hey I know you don’t want anything to do with me-” you nodded, agreeing, and he pursed his lips together before continuing. “-but I think uh- I think I left my socks at your place too?”

He had to be kidding, right? “What?”

“My uh- my socks.”

“You think you left your socks in my room. And you wanna go get them.”

“Well yeah.”

“Can you not survive without one pair of socks?”

“Well-”

“You know what, fine. Whatever. I’m leaving a little late today though so you’ll have to stick around.”

“Yeah sure.”

You wordlessly turned around and walked to class. It seemed that interacting with Miguel was now a daily experience. That was just such fun, huh?

. . .

You found him waiting for you by the bike racks, right by the front steps, as you exited the building. You kind of didn’t actually expect him to wait for you. I mean, he could just ask you to look for the stupid socks and bring them to him the next day. That’s certainly what you would do if you were in his shoes, as to avoid the interaction.

You had to remind yourself, though, that the hate you felt for him isn’t mutual, which only angered you further. Couldn’t he just hate you back? Be a little rude? Maybe then you wouldn’t look like a bitch for being like that towards him.

“You didn’t take that long,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. Turns out they wanna move the project up for one more week or something.”

“That’s cool.” He pulled his bike out of the rack, grabbing the handles and starting to walk with it by his side, and you followed along. You were both quiet for a couple minutes before, of course, he couldn’t help himself from talking. Did he think everyone wanted to hear him talk all the time?

A tiny part of you told you he was just trying to be nice. Okay, fine. Maybe you were being too harsh.

“What’s your deal with me?”

Yeah, no, he can perrish actually. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“It… definitely looks like it.”

“Well I don’t.” Well...

“Then why do you act like you do?”

“What, are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

“I just wanna know what I did!”

“You didn’t do anything! You never seem to do anything wrong, do you?”

“What?”

“What, don’t play dumb. I don’t know what it is, okay? You just annoy me. You’re so nice to everyone and everyone just likes you so much and you don’t even have to do anything!”

“You don’t like me… because I’m nice to people. And so they like me.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s how it sounded.”

“Whatever. We’re here,” you pointed out, and you made your way into your place. Not without taking notice of the sky, which was a dark grey color now, a storm forming. “Come on you can leave the bike here, looks like it’s gonna rain.”

“Yeah, I think…”

[. . .]

… So you were stuck at home with him.

This had to be a nightmare.

The clouds were quick to cover the sky right after you got inside, and you could barely see any hint of sunlight despite it still over four in the afternoon. Rain started pouring heavily quickly after, a storm suddenly forming in no time.

And so there you were. In your kitchen. Alone. Stormed in with Miguel Diaz.

This was just fantastic. Great, amazing, wonderful even!

And your annoyance was apparently visible. “Look if you’re so mad about it I can go-”

You stared at him for a couple seconds, unamused. “You wanna bike? In the middle of the storm?”

He just shrugged.

“I don’t hate you that much, you know? You can stay ‘till it’s over.” God, did you hope it would be over soon.

“See you told me you didn’t hate me at all.”

“Okay yeah you can go.”

He laughed. “Fine. I won’t push. Do you wanna do something?”

“I mean I don’t think there’s a lot to do. I guess we could watch something.”

“Yeah! That’s cool!”

“Well what do you-” you were interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing, and you took it out of your pocket, only to see it was your mom calling. Miguel sat back down by the counter as you picked it up.

“Honey are you okay? Are you home yet?”

“Yeah we got here just in time. Are you alright?”

“Yes, but the rain’s really bad here- wait, we? Is Aisha over?”

You took a glance at Miguel. Now how to explain that?

“Uh, actually it’s another friend.”

“Is it? Who?”

“Um his name’s Miguel? We were gonna do a- a physics project. But he rides a bike, so.”

There was a pause. “Right. Are you two gonna be okay?”

“Yeah don’t worry! We’ll just do what we need to do ‘till he can go.”

“Fine. Call me if you need anything! I’ll head home as soon as the storm clears.”

“Right. Love you!”

[. . .]

“Um does she not mind?” You were both sitting on the couch now, about 20 minutes into Thor: Ragnarok, when he said something.

You looked away from the screen. “What?”

“Y- your mom? That I’m here, I mean.”

“Oh she did sound a little- I dunno. But it’s not like she’s gonna make you go out in this weather.”

“Cool. Oh- we didn’t- I didn’t get my socks.”

You laughed at the thought of him thinking about his stupid socks the entire time you’d been watching the film. “Do those socks really matter that much to you? Oh are they too embarrassing? Do they have like little spongebobs on them or something?”

“No, I just-” he seemed to be fighting it, but was now laughing too. “No they don’t have little spongebobs on them. Just remembered it.”

“We can get it after the movie’s done.”

“Right.” He brought his attention back to the TV, but you decided to grab your phone and text Aisha.

y/n

dude youre not gonna fucking believe my luck

She replied almost instantly.

aisha

????? what happened

y/n

well miguel came over to get his socks or whatever

aisha

and???? ;))))))

y/n

this isnt a ;) situation!!! were stuck inside!!!

aisha

omg are you serious its just rain

y/n

yeah but pretty boy here rides a bike

aisha

dude you walk

y/n

irrelevant!!!!!

aisha

well what are you doing rn?

y/n

were watching thor trying not to kill him

aisha

oh shut up

y/n

he’s annoying!!!

aisha

just watch the movie and wait for the rain to stop its not that hard

y/n i've watched this like 7 times already he was just really excited to watch it

aisha

awww you're all soft for him

y/n

im going over your house to kill you

aisha

you cant bc you're stuck with miguel!! WAIT

y/n

what?

aisha

you're home alone with a cute boy and youre complaining??

y/n

hes not a cute boy!!! hes miguel!!!

aisha

whos a cute boy

y/n

you dont even like guys

aisha

im not blind??

y/n

shut up

aisha

get some!!!!

y/n

die

aisha

:))))))

You put your phone down looking at Miguel once again. He was really concentrated on whatever was going on in the movie, so you decided it was safe to stare for a little bit. He didn’t look as messy like he did that day at the party. He even-

“That hoodie looks good on you.”

Where the fuck did that come from?

You really hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You couldn’t quite figure out his expression. God, he was gonna make fun of you-

“Thanks,” was all he said in return. He was staring at you now, as if trying to figure you out. You supposed you had to give it to him- you were just as shocked at yourself to blurt that out as he seemed to be. The movie seemed to be long forgotten.

You expected some snarky remark, a cocky grin. But nothing. Was that it? He was probably controlling himself as to not laugh at your face about it, you just knew it.

You couldn’t take the embarrassment. Why did you have to make things weird? You suddenly stood up in a quick motion. “I’m gonna find us something to eat.”

Aisha’s texts must have just gotten to your head, because why else would you even say something like that? You didn’t think he looked in that hoodie. Wait, no, that’s not what you said. You said you thought the hoodie looked good on him. Whatever, you had to focus.

And then he did the worst possible thing he could have done, which was offer to go with you.

Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off! “Sure.” You tried to act normal. There was nothing normal about the weird tension you’d managed to create between the two of you.

It’s safe to say things were awkward. You occupied yourself with opening and looking through every single cabinet in the kitchen, even the ones where you knew there would be no food, trying desperately to find excuses to delay looking at him.

“Um are you okay?”

“Yes.” You were not. “Why?”

“You’ve been looking for something for a while. I’m not that hungry you know, you don’t have to.”

“Well I am.” You grabbed the first thing you could find, which was a chocolate bar, thankfully. At least one good thing to come out of this never-ending disastrous afternoon. “Found it.” You held it up for him to see, but made sure to avoid eye contact before making your way to the living room.

You both sat down to resume watching the movie, but there was still this weird energy around the room, one which, again, you’d gracefully created on your own, and you felt antsy. “Do you wanna go get your socks?”

“Uh, okay?”

You nodded back, turning around and making your way towards your room, knowing he’d follow you. You quickly sat down on your bed and waited for him to walk through the door.

“Hey.”

“Um I didn’t see any socks anywhere so. Feel free to look around.” You finally worked up the guts to look at him for a split second. He nodded.

[. . .]

An hour had gone by since, and the storm didn’t look like it was getting any better. You’d even passed the point of being embarrassed about what you’d said earlier- okay, maybe not completely, but still- and were just staring at the ceiling, laying on your bed, waiting for the time to pass. Miguel was sitting right beside you, and you didn’t remember the last time one of you had said a word until he broke the silence again. God this kid loves to talk doesn’t he?

“You don’t actually hate me, right?”

“Are we still on about that?”

“There’s not really anything to talk about. I don’t know anything about you.”

“My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I go to West Valley High. I'm stuck inside my house right now."

“Wow now I know everything there is to know, thank you,” he returned with sarcasm.

“What do you wanna know?” It had to be the peak of boredom, engaging in small talk with Miguel Diaz of all people. What was this, 21 questions?

“Well what kind of music do you like?”

“Little bit of everything I guess. Rock, pop, whatever.”

“You like 80’s rock?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. My sensei showed it to me and it’s been my favorite.”

You didn’t mean to laugh.

“What?”

“Just weird. Sensei.”

“Well that’s the word.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“Thought about what?”

“Joining Cobra Kai.”

This time you made sure to laugh loudly. “Yeah. Would be a dream come true.”

“What’s so wrong with Cobra Kai?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Diaz, Cobra Kai has helped Aisha a lot. But honestly it just seems like it recruits nerds and turns them into self-conceited jerks.”

“Um would I be one of those self-conceited jerks?”

“Sure.”

“Have I done anything to you? I don’t-”

“You haven’t. But just- everyone keeps praising you for everything. And you didn’t let it get to your head? I don’t buy it.”

“People don’t praise me for everything. I've gotten beaten up a fair amount."

“Whatever.”

“Well what’s your favorite color?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“It’s a valid question.”

“What’s yours?”

“Orange.”

“That’s lame.”

“What's yours then?”

“Y/F/C.”

“That’s lamer.”

“Very funny.” You mocked him, but realized you were actually smiling.

He opened a smile of his own. “See? I’m not that bad.”

“You’re bearable.”

“That’s progress.” There was a pause. “Well you should come to practice some day.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To see that you’re wrong! We’re like family. I’ve never had anything like that before Cobra Kai.”

“Yeah I don’t think that’ll happen. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

[. . .]

“Yes mom I know. Yes he’s still here. Of course I’m not gonna let him go out in this weather. No, are you sure? But where will you- fine. But please talk to me. Right, love you.”

“So?”

“She's gonna have to stay there until things get better.”

“What? Is it still that bad?”

“Apparently. There were like a bunch of car accidents around the buildings.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

[. . .]

“This is so fucking boring.”

“Do you have any games on your phone or something?”

“You sound like a little kid.”

“Shut up.” He totally did.

“What is it?’

“What?”

“Stop staring at me.”

“I’m not staring at you.”

“You were! Weirdo.”

There was a pause. “Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“That you think my hoodie looks good on me.”

“No?" You tried.

“Then why why’d you say it?”

“Can we not talk about that?”

“You know if you actually gave me a chance I think we could be good friends.”

“Yeah in your dreams, Diaz. I’d probably kill you.”

He actually had the nerve to laugh at you. “Yeah I don’t think you could.”

“I think I could!” You tried defending yourself, but you knew it was complete bullshit. I mean, have you seen his arms?

Not that you’d been looking!

Obviously not.

“Did you forget I literally do karate almost every single day?”

You shrugged in fake disdain. “Still think I could take you.”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay.” He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You shot him a confused look. “What, prove it then!”

“No I’m not doing that.”

“So you’re admitting you can’t take me.”

You knew you couldn’t, but you also doubted he’d go too hard on you. Plus this was a matter of pride now, you couldn’t just let him have that. He knew exactly how to push your buttons to get you to do this. You immediately took his hand, standing up as well. “I said I could.”

“Alright. Come on," he challenged you, getting in a fighting stance, and you tried your best to mimic him, holding your hands in fists in front of your body. He laughed at that, reaching to change the position of your hands. “Okay this,” he said as he moved them just a little bit, “could break your thumbs.”

“Fine. That good enough, sensei?” You mocked, and the boy made a funny expression at that, but quickly snapped out of it.

“Okay, so I’m gonna try to sweep your leg, like this,” he pretended to do the motion, “and what you’re gonna do is block my leg with your right arm, like this,” he did the same with the new movement.

“This isn’t a karate lesson, just fight me!”

“Alright, whatever you say. You ready?”

You were not. “Yup.”

Okay, terrible idea.

In no time he’d done as he said, and your back was immediately pressed to the floor, with no time to even process it happening.

Still, you weren’t gonna just not get a little fun out of it. “You got lucky."

He dared to laugh at you again, before sticking out his hand for you to take. You couldn’t contain a grin as you pulled him to the floor beside you, laughing at his surprise when you were successful.

“Oh I see how it is!” He exclaimed, laughing. You were already starting to stand up, but he tackled you to the floor again, hovering over you.

“Jerk!” You punched him on the chest, playfully, but you were both laughing, despite both being extremely out of breath. You tried to catch him by surprise again, and went to flip your positions, but he was quicker, pinning you to the floor by both your wrists. It was no use then, when he was clearly stronger than you.

But then something really, really weird happened. After your laughter calmed down, it was impossible not to take notice of how the two of you looked right now.

It’s like you had to think about it a second time for the situation to actually click: he was on top of you, having you quite literally pinned under him by your wrists, practically straddling you at that point, with his knees on the floor on either side of your hips.

You looked up at him, and he was staring at your face. Intently so.

For some reason you couldn’t get yourself to look away. It lasted a ridiculously long time, the eye contact, or at least that’s what it felt like, and you were still out of breath from the play fighting, your brain trying to catch on to the situation you were in.

You could swear you saw him glance down at your lips, fueling the tension that was already inherently thick in the air between you. You immediately tried to rid yourself of the thought, as it was probably ridiculous- but then he did the last thing you’d expect him to do.

He actually leaned in.

And you did something even weirder than that: you actually let him do it.

In a second his lips were on yours, and he almost lost his balance as you got your wrists free of his grip, instinctively reaching for the back of his head, intertwining your fingers to his hair.

The adrenaline of it all was thrilling, and it was like your brain had stopped stopped working altogether. After all if you had been functioning normally you would not find yourself in this situation.

No matter. At that moment all you were really worried about was kissing him. You kissed him back, and then you did it again, and again, and again, until you had to pull away to breathe, your chest heaving up and down, as did his, and your breaths being the only sound heard around the entire house, much louder than the now muffled sound of the rain and thunder outside.

And then you made eye contact again and it seemed as what just happened downed on you, all at once.

You had just kissed Miguel Diaz.

No, much worse: you had just made out with Miguel Diaz. On your bedroom floor.

Ooooooooh, no.

Your eyes went wide and you were quick to push him away, standing up.

“Are you-”

You cut him off immediately. “I’ll be right back."

“But-”

“I’ll be right back!” You repeated yourself. “You can go uh- looking for your socks or whatever if you want.”

“Are you serious-” you made your way out of the bedroom, straight into the first room you took sight off- the bathroom. You made sure to lock the door before you sat on the floor, back pressed to the wall.

Okay, so that just happened. You just kissed Miguel Diaz. No, actually, you just kissed Miguel Diaz back. He kissed you. But then again you kissed back. But he kissed you first, which means he was attracted to you? Did that mean you were attracted to him? No, you- okay, maybe.

Shit, shit, shit.

You pulled out your phone, scrambling to find Aisha’s contact. You hesitated before sending anything, knowing she'd tease you about this until the end of time , but Miguel was right outside and you had no idea how to face him after this. Holding your breath, you pressed send.

y/n

i did something

She took a minute to reply, and you jumped when you heard the sound of the notification.

aisha

okay should i be worried

y/n

um depends

aisha

okay im definitely worried did you actually kill him

y/n

aisha

then what did you do did you kick him out?

y/n

also no

aisha

girl just fucking say it!!!! i dont have time for this

y/n

okay but you cant say i told you so

aisha

youre definitely worrying me

y/n

he migthve kissed me

aisha

IM SORRY WHAT WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE KISSED YOU WHAT WHAT DID YOU DO????

y/n

i,,, might have kissed him back

and we mightve made out like a little bit

aisha

YOU DID NOT ARE YOU JOKING? ILL LITERALLY MURDER YOU IF YOU ARE

y/n

why would i joke about that?????????? you think i wanted this to happen???

aisha

well clearly you did????

y/n

no!!!!!

aisha

why would you have kissed back then?????

y/n

i dont know!!!!!! reflex?????

aisha

yeah right

was it reflex to KEEP kissing him back????

im gonna call you

y/n

no hes still here!!!!!!

Your phone rang, and you were quick to decline.

y/n

hes still here! hes gonna hear us!!!

aisha

omfg what are you gonna do

y/n

die maybe?

aisha

i knew you were into him

y/n

i am not!!!! into him!!!!!! HE kissed ME!!!

aisha

and you kissed back!!!!

y/n

that doesn’t mean anything!!!!

aisha

yes it does???????

“Y/n?”

Fuck. He was right outside the bathroom door.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m great Diaz. Go look for your socks.”

“Yeah um- I found them.”

“Cool.”

“Hey it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it, I shouldn’t have-”

“Yeah, you shouldn't have.”

“I mean you… kind of did kiss back.”

Silence. What could you reply to that?

“Can we not? Talk about it.”

“Uh. Fine?"

“Okay. I’m coming out then. And we can finish the movie.”

“Sure. The sky’s clearing up too so.”

“Okay.”

You unlocked the door, inhaling deeply before opening it.

[. . .]

“Why did I let you do this? This is weird!” You whispered to Aisha, making sure the others didn't hear you. You'd let her convince you to sit with her friends from Cobra Kai during lunch, claiming it was the best way for you to seem ‘chill’ about what had happened. You were immediately regretting it.

You’d agreed not to talk about what happened at your place the night before, but things were still pretty awkward with Miguel, and it was really, really visible. Hawk had been stealing small glances at you, then immediately averting his eyes to Miguel, and so you were sure Miguel had told him all about it. Sure, you'd told Aisha too, but whatever.

He was probably bragging about it or something, in typical fuckboy fashion. Or something.

“It’s literally fine! You’re seeing things.”

“I’m not seeing things! It’s literally so awkward!”

“You can't avoid him forever!”

“I don't have to sit with him at lunch either!”

[. . .]

You’d almost considered yourself lucky for not having had to see Miguel in any other instance during the rest of the day, even congratulating yourself on managing to avoid him when he, of course, approached you at the exit.

“Y/n!”

You stopped, sighing in defeat. “Yes?”

“Are we cool?”

“Sorry?”

“I mean it seems like you’re acting weird, I don't know.”

“Does it really matter to you? We're not friends, so.”

“Okay. But we- was it that bad?”

“What?”

“That I kissed you, are you that mad about it?”

Your eyes widened and you looked around, trying to see if anyone around you heard him. “I told you I didn’t wanna talk about that!”

“Well let’s just solve it so we don’t have to! I thought you wanted it too. I mean it- it seemed like you did at the moment but now I don’t know and I’m really sorry if-“

“Look I don’t know what happened okay? You don’t have to feel bad about it or anything, you didn’t read it wrong. But it was a one time thing. It I’m trying to be more friendly with you guys because of Aisha, but there’s nothing more to it. It was just a heat of the moment thing.” You turned around, already starting to walk before he had the chance to talk more.

Of course he still yelled after you. “You should go see us today!”

Okay, big change of subject. “What?”

“At the dojo. We have practice at five.”

You were the one to not get the time to say anything back this time, him hopping on his bike and getting on his way.

Well, should you?

[. . .]

“This is stupid.”

“You’re just watching!” Aisha said, trying to cheer you up. “I can’t believe I couldn’t get you to come see me but Miguel could.”

“That’s not what’s going on.”

“Right.”

“It’s not! Did I not sit with your friends at lunch today? I’m making an effort. For you.”

“And only for me.” She didn't sound like she believed it at all.

“Only for you.”

She let out a laugh, and you elbowed her arm. You got to the place, entering the door, which made a bell sound out. You couldn't help but notice the ridiculous amount of snake drawings, which was apparently the dojo’s logo, that were scattered on the walls. Despite that, the place looked decent.

You caught sight of writing on one of the walls.

“That like your mantra?”

Strike first. Strike Hard. No mercy. Very inviting.

“Something like that.”

“Not violent at all,” you pointed out.

“What's the point of karate if it’s not violent?”

“Isn't that LaRusso's whole thing? Non- violent karate?”

“Well he’s stupid, so that fits.”

“Okay, well I’m gonna-”

“QUIET!” A man you hadn’t seen walk in shouted, startling you and all the students.

“Ms. Robinson, who are we missing?”

Aisha looked around. “Hawk and Miguel, sensei.”

“Okay. They have three minutes.” He seemed to finally take notice of you. “New student?”

“Y/N’s my friend, sensei-” did they have to refer to him as sensei in every single sentence?

“Yeah I'm just here to watch-”

“What are you, a pussy?”

“Sensei!”

“I’m sorry?�� You asked, dumbfounded. Okay, what was happening?

“Don’t think you can handle one class?”

“I don’t-”

“If you’re staying in my dojo, you’re participating.”

You looked at Aisha. “I mean it can’t hurt,” was all she said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Are you kidding me-” At that very moment you heard the bell again, turning around to see who it was. Of course the timing was immaculate. Hawk and Miguel entered the dojo, taking their shoes off and stepping into the mat. You turned back around to face Aisha. “Do I have to take my shoes off?”

“Yeah.”

You did it quickly, before getting back to your place. Were you really about to do this? And what for? Because you couldn’t say no to a scary old man?

Because you couldn’t say no to…

Nevermind.

“Alright quiet! Fighting positions!”

Everything was happening way too fast, and you tried to keep up, trying to remember the stance Miguel had helped you with the night before. Sensei walked through the rows of kids, all dressed in those weird clothes except for you, which naturally drove his attention to you, to which he laughed. “Yeah do that and you'll leave a fight with two broken thumbs.” Right.

Just to prove your luck, Sensei Lawrence had a fantastic idea. “Diaz, you’re in charge of teaching her the first moves. I’m teaching these nerds here how to headbutt. Again.”

“Yes, sensei!”

You were accepting it, the Universe had to be having the time of its infinite life at your expense. Miguel walked up to you, sporting a smirk. “You came.”

“Because Aisha asked me to.”

“Right. Of course.” You both walked off to the side of the mat, as to not disturb the rest of the class. “Alright, fighting stance.”

You made sure to make a face before you did as he said, remembering to leave your thumbs out of your fists this time. You were not giving him the satisfaction of correcting you about that again.

“Okay, that’s good. But you gotta-” he pushed your feet further behind with his own. “Okay. Now the most simple punches you’re gonna do are the jab and the cross. You’re gonna do the jab like this-” he showed it, punching the air with his left hand, “and the cross is gonna go like this,” he did the same, with his right hand this time. “But you’re gonna punch this,” he motioned to the punching bag in front of you.

“Oh, I kinda hoped I'd get to punch you!”

He smiled. “You’ll have plenty of time for that.” He positioned himself behind the punching bag, holding it in place.

"Do I have to do the weird grunt noises too?" You messed with him.

“Just go.”

You tried you best, not really having any idea what to do.

“Okay stop.”

“What?”

He came up beside you. “Okay pay attention.” He did the movements, slowly this time. “You’re letting your hand punch down. It’s supposed to stay just in your eyesight.”

“So like this?” You tried it.

“Yeah but don’t bend your elbow. You could sprain it that way.”

“What? I don’t-”

“And you really thought you could take me?”

“Shut up. I could report you to your sensei, you know.”

“I’m the sensei right now.”

“In your dreams.”

“Come on, you can do it.” He took you by surprise as he placed a hand on your waist, pressuring it down so your legs would stay steady, and grabbed your right hand with the other one. You tried not to think too hard about it. It was a little hard focusing on what he wanted to teach you when you knew what it was like to- no. No wandering there.

He curled your fingers into a fist. “Okay so your hand will already be in a fist, right here, and then what you’re gonna do is hold it out in a straight line, you can’t let it fall down-”

[. . .]

“You can admit it, you know?”

“Admit what?”

“You liked it.”

“What?”

“Karate.” Oh. Right. Karate.

“I would never.”

“You totally did!”

“Okay. Fine. A little. But I think it definitely would have been better if I had a better teacher.”

“A better sensei, you mean,” he pressed you about it, earning an eye-roll from you.

“Whatever.”

“Are you gonna keep doing it?”

“What?”

“Are you like enrolling?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

“Cool.”

“Why, do you wanna see me that bad?”

He let out a laugh. “Yeah, whatever you say."

[. . .]

A couple weeks had gone by, and you had agreed to go to the movies with Aisha and her friends- well, you guessed now they were your friends too. The two of you were the first to get there, and were standing in line to get popcorn when Hawk and Miguel walked up to you. “I didn’t know you were coming,” Miguel pointed out.

“Do you not have other friends you can talk to?”

“You act like you were forced to be here.”

“I could have been!”

“I don’t think you were.”

You didn’t have a snarky reply to that.

“So sensei was talking to me about putting you in for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah cause you missed on tuesday?”

“Oh right! Stupid project.”

“Yeah. Well apparently he has stuff to do so he asked if I could help you out.”

You laughed in an exaggerated manner. “Oh there’s no way.”

“It was sensei’s idea!” Miguel defended himself.

“And it’s a bad one! No way.”

Aisha turned to you, handing you a huge popcorn for you to hold. She then handed Miguel two cups, and all of you went on your way.

“Look the dojo’s empty at three. You should be there then.” He walked past you and sat down next to Hawk.

[. . .]

“You showed up!”

“Yeah whatever.” You put your backpack down on the floor and took your shoes off, walking into the mat.

“You’re not wearing your gi,” he pointed out just to mess with you.

“You’re not wearing yours.”

“But I’m the sensei today.”

“Yeah you don’t look very sensei-like to me.”

“What would look sensei-like to you?” He got himself in fighting position as he talked, and you made sure to do the same.

“I don’t know. A little buffer, less of a pussy,” you teased him.

“Hey watch your words! We’re serious people in this dojo!” He laughed. “Alright left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross and hook, all of them three times. You ready?”

You tried to make sure you remembered the order correctly. “Is the hook before of after the cross?”

“After.”

“Right, so left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook.”

“Yeah. Now go.” You did it. “Okay good! Is someone… enjoying karate?”

“Shut up.”

He smiled. “Alright I’m gonna block you this time.”

You repeated the sequence. Left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook. Left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook.

Left front kick, right round kick, jab, mat.

Mat?

“That’s not fair you were just gonna block!” You exclaimed after processing the fact that he’d just tackled you to the floor.

“You forgot to keep your guard up.”

“Whatever.” You began standing up.

“What, can’t take it?”

“Is little Miguel Diaz being mean to someone?”

“I’m just pointing out your weaknesses so you can work on them.”

“Because you’re just perfect, aren't you?”

“Do me then.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I-” he closed his eyes shut and pursed his lips together at the poor choice of words. “Do the same thing to me.”

“I don’t know, I’m starting to think you’re like into pain or something.”

“Yeah whatever you say. Come on.”

He did the sequence this time, and you blocked the movements, waiting for the chance to catch him by surprise. You did it while he was going for it the second time around, grabbing him by the wrist and attempting to pull it down, but he was quicker.

Best fighter in the Valley, after all.

In no time you were on the ground again. Fucker.

“I told you! It’s good practice though.” He was laughing at you, and held out his hand for you to take when he noticed you weren’t standing up.

You grinned. “Do you never learn?” You did the same as you'd done that one day at your house, pulling him to the floor next to you.

“Okay that was rude!”

“You practically asked for it!” You laughed like crazy as you stood up. “I can’t believe you fell for that twice!”

“Okay, fine.” He held his hand up again. “You not gonna help me?”

“Nope. I, for one, am not dumb.”

He got up. “Oh you’re gonna regret that.”

[. . .]

"Hey are you- are you doing something right now?" Miguel questioned you as he finshed turning the lights off.

"Not really. Why?"

"Do you... want to?"

"Like right now?"

"I mean I think we could both use a shower first but- later?"

"Why?"

"I'm just bored. You don't have to."

You pondered it. Aisha did have to bail on you to go to dinner with her dad. "Fine."

"What- okay."

You laughed as he finished locking the door of the dojo. "What?"

"Didn’t think you’d say yes."

"I can still change my mind."

"Yeah right. You like hanging out with me!"

"Hey don’t get too confident, I just don’t have anything else to do."

"And I don't believe you. Golf ‘n’ Stuf. In like an hour?"

"I don’t know. I might not show up," you teased.

"Yeah I'll see you there!" He yelled, content, already ahead of you on his bike.

[. . .]

“I knew it.”

You turned around where you stood, only to see Miguel behind you, a grin on his face. “You’re annoying. I’ve told you that before, right?”

“Yeah. Many times.”

“Just checking.”

“So?” Miguel held up his arm for you to lace your own with. As if. You scoffed, walking past him, leaving him to jog after you into the park.

“Okay what first?”

“Oh you’re letting me pick?” He asked you. Okay, you had to give it to him, he wasn’t as insufferable when he matched your sarcastic attitude a little bit. Or maybe he was more insufferable and you just liked to see him not be as nice.

“Yes I’m very polite.”

“Well then we’re doing mini golf.”

“Are you forty-five?”

“This place literally has golf in the name, what did you expect?” He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you along.

[. . .]

“Okay I don’t think I’ve ever seen as many tickets in my entire life,” Miguel exclaimed, holding up what looked like at least 80 tickets, all bunched up. You studied the excitement on his face. Fine, so maybe you had a little fun. Just a little. And maybe you thought he looked stupidly cute right now.

Maybe.

You walked up to the counter. He looked at your prize options. “So what do you want? We can get like 53 rings or like 72 plastic… babies? Why would anyone want 72 plastic babies?”

You let out a laugh. “I don’t know, I-” you saw it by the corner, almost hidden. It was perfect. “Ohmygod definitely that guy!” You pointed at it, and the woman behind the counter handed it to Miguel.

He held up the plush bumblebee. “He’s cute! What should we name him?”

“Um… Phillip?”

“What no! That’s so not a bee name.”

“What the hell would a bee name be?”

“Zoe?”

“Okay first off that’s so cliche. Second off, he’s a boy!”

“How would you know that?” You’d been walking for a while, and finally got outside, sitting down on a bench.

“I decided it!”

“Okay. What can we name him then?”

“Oh my God, Lucas!”

“Okay, I think I can accept Lucas.”

“You don’t have a say on my son’s name!”

“Hey he’s our son!”

“I don’t know, we’d have to take a DNA test.”

“Shit have you been cheating on me?”

“Yeah I’m sorry…” you tried to match his playfulness.

There was silence for a moment.

“You know this was actually pretty fun.”

“Yeah I was surprised.” You were teasing, but it wasn’t a lie, either.

“So you liked it? Who knew.”

“Oh shut it. It was okay.”

“You totally did!”

“Okay, whatever. Now we need to discuss Lucas’ custody situation. I’m getting dibs on weekends!” You tried to joke, but Miguel’s mind seemed to be wandering off. “Miguel? Hello?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

“Sorry.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I just- can I tell you something?”

“Okay.”

“I have a theory. You can say I’m wrong. But you can’t get mad at me about it.”

“Okay I’m getting worried.”

“Promise?”

“Sure.”

“Well I’ve thought about it, and I might be being a little hopeful. But I’m pretty sure you might have a crush on me.”

You laughed in disbelief. Did he really just say that to you? “I’m sorry?”

“It’s just a theory! I want you to! I’m- am I wrong?”

You didn’t reply. Because you didn’t know the answer. Did you- wait. “You want me to?”

“I- mean I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, but. It would be nice. And I know you still don’t like to talk about that one time we kissed and all but things have been pretty confusing.”

“Because you have a thing for me.”

“Okay, I get it, it's fine if you don’t-”

Maybe it was not exactly the brightest idea to do something so important so suddenly, without sparing a thought before you did. But, when you knew it, your lips were on his.

It was calmer, softer than the first time you’d done it. Miguel was the one to pull away, smiling into the kiss. He stared at you, and you were nervous. You wanted to tell yourself you didn’t know where that came from, like you’d told yourself had happened that day at your place before attempting to bottle it up. But you knew.

You didn’t realize it, but in those weeks you hung out, you got to actually know him. And at some point you must have started liking him. A few weeks was definitely enough to change your perspective on some things.

You assumed he felt the same, considering the things he said.

… but maybe you read him wrong?

“What?” You asked, insecure, when he didn’t say anything.

He grinned. “You totally have a crush on me!”

You let out a breath in relief.

Okay, yeah, maybe Miguel Diaz wasn’t that bad after all. And maybe you could get yourself used to the thought of going out with him.

Maybe.

[. . .]

A/N: edited the fuck outta this one before posting, my ideas were good but my writing was pretty shit at the time. I think I was like 16/17 when I wrote this one. shits crazy. luv yall

#cobra Kai #karate kid #the karate kid #Miguel Diaz #Miguel Diaz imagine #Miguel Diaz x reader #eli moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #aisha robinson #johnny lawrence #demetri cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #mars writes

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 5 months

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@ckhalloween23 heyyyyyy bestie(s) I know I'm an entire-ass month late, BUT

HERE'S A PREVIEW OF THE ELIMETRI DARKFIC I PROMISED

Listen, y'all can't give me a "Serial Killers" prompt and the opportunity to write the dark, unhinged Demetri Alexopoulos of my dreams presented on a silver platter and NOT expect me to go a little apeshit ^^;

Or. A lot apeshit. Because boy did I let this funny little comic relief guy SNAP ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Also, funnily enough, I realized over the course of the last year or so that I'm probably autistic? For the longest time I held off on writing Hawk's POV because I hc him as autistic and I didn't think I could do him justice, but...I've unlocked this Fun Secret Collector's Item now, I guess XD Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz POV acquired!

Decided to give it a stab here, since him having NO fucking idea how to react to Crazy Demetri was just too much fun. Hawk came to me surprisingly easy once I got started, actually??? I mean I've always related to him a lot but I had no idea it was like. An autism thing. I thought it was just an ND thing akisudhlkuhyfu

Head's up to Tory and Robby stans...this may not be the fic for you. You have been warned 👀

CW for blood, violence, knife-threatening, light knifeplay, toxic relationships (although YMMV), mentions of murder, implied slut-shaming, homophobic slurs, and sexual subtext.

Fic under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request :3

***

Hawk’s on his 30th rep when he hears the front door.

He stops mid-jab, the punching bag rattling on its chain as it sways back and forth. Scoffing, he rolls his eyes.

His mom must be home early. How fucking annoying.

He was looking forward to having the house to himself. With his father on a weekend-long business trip and his mother at her Friday night wine hangout, he was finally going to catch up on training without any interruptions.

The last thing he needs is to be outdone by Kyler Park and Robby Fucking Keene.

Hopefully his mom won’t come knocking, pestering him to watch movies or some other frivolous crap. He doesn’t have time for that anymore.

Strange. There’s a notable lack of the jingling and clattering that usually comes from 50 million things being shifted through an oversize purse. Hawk pauses, listening for any noise.

Maybe he imagined it.

“What the hell.” He takes a sip of the Red Bull on his bedside. Some sleep-deprived delirium or whatever it was wasn’t going to fuck up his focus.

Sure, he’s been averaging 5 hours a night, but who gives a shit? It’s not like anyone in high school actually gets enough sleep.

Sensei Kreese said in ‘Nam, they had to be ready to fight on a moment’s notice—geared to slaughter enemies after a mere 30 minutes’ rest in 48 hours. Hawk doesn’t strive for anything less.

The stairs creak.

His mom isn’t usually one for sneaking past his room, but perhaps she’s too tired to be chatty. He thanks the powers that be this seems to be the case, and returns to his reps.

Jab, cross, roundhouse. Jab, cross, roundhouse. Elbow. Knee to the chest.

He counts them out as he goes, power surging through him. Sensei will be sorry he started singing Keene’s praises when Hawk’s a better fighter than that piece of shit ever was.

Because throwing someone off a balcony when they had their guard down was a coward’s move. Typical Miyagi Do bullshit.

God, Hawk hates them. Hypocrites. Losers. Pussies.

He thinks of a new insult every time he lands a punch.

Miguel’s fucking insane for not appreciating what Cobra Kai did to get payback. What Hawk did to get payback.

His fists are starting to ache, fingers burning from being smashed against rubber again and again. Hawk doesn’t care.

Sensei would say the pain makes him stronger.

Jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross—

“You know, at some point, I think you’re as good as you’re going to get at punching.”

A shadow blocks the hallway light.

Dread grips him in frosty talons. His arms still, the punching bag swinging back and smacking his chest.

He gasps, stumbling back. Still, he refuses to look at the doorway.

Refuses to let Demetri see his shock.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

He presses as much venom into the words as possible. Enough intimidation, and Demetri will back down.

He knows now that Hawk is as real a threat as he ever was. And Demetri’s smart enough not to keep poking at a tiger that’s already mauled him.

“In what world would I not remember where you keep your spare keys?” Demetri sneers.

Well. Maybe that’s a bit generous.

“What do you want?”

Hawk keeps his tone steely, hoping he can kill whatever plans are swimming around his ex-best-friend’s head before they even form. In all likelihood, Demetri’s here to be a nuisance at best and a night-ruiner at worst.

Fucking Demetri. He’s always been such a distraction.

Hawk needs to get rid of those.

He thought he did. But Demetri is apparently either too stupid or too obsessed with the past to be properly scared away.

Irritating, but admittedly also interesting. It shows a kind of boldness that he wouldn’t expect Demetri, of all people, to have.

“Maybe I want to check in on my best friend.” Groaning footfalls as Demetri starts to slowly cross Hawk’s room. “I see you avoiding me at school. And you didn’t even bother to show when your little friends crashed Sam’s party. Perhaps I want to see how you are, hmmmm?”

And try as he might, Hawk can’t pick up the usual sarcastic edge to Demetri’s tone. He frowns at his far wall, confused.

There’s something odd in Demetri’s voice, and Hawk can’t for the life of him pick up what it is.

He still refuses to look at his oldest friend. He’s not going to give him the satisfaction of undivided attention.

Demetri is a pest, and should be treated as such.

“We’re not best friends,” Hawk says tightly, landing another punch on his bag. “Whatever we were? It’s done. Has been for a long time. Why can’t you get that?”

He finally graces Demetri with a look. He’s expecting the usual sullen look—scrunched brow, open mouth, widened eyes. Like he’s eternally surprised Hawk doesn’t need him anymore.

A look where maybe, if he prods it farther, Demetri will storm off. Or run off crying. Be out of Hawk’s sight.

Be somewhere where Hawk doesn’t have to think about that night at Golf N Stuff. Or how it felt to watch Demetri writhe on the floor. Or the streams of vomit that ripped from Hawk’s stomach as soon as he got home.

Or what he did to himself in the wee hours of the morning, when no one—not his mother, not Cobra Kai, not Sensei Kreese—was around to see.

But when Hawk glances over now, Demetri is smiling.

Not a contemptuous sneer, or a pained grimace. A full-on grin, splitting his cheeks and stretching much wider than the situation calls for.

Hawk inhales sharply.

Demetri shakes his head, laughing. “It’s almost endearing, you know. What a tryhard you are.”

He squares his jaw, refusing to budge as Demetri advances on him. “I thought I made it pretty clear what I think about you. You want another reminder?”

Hawk balls his fists, trying not to think about how hard the words are to force out. How hard he’s working to keep the iron shell he’s built around himself intact.

A strange smell hovers around Demetri. Acrid and metallic, like he’s spent too much time mucking around inside one of those computers he’s so besotted with.

“How revoltingly naïve.” Green eyes burn into him like acid, the glint behind them unlike anything he’s ever seen. “You thought you’d break my arm once and be done with me?

Hawk finds himself backing away.

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you, Hawk.”

Something in the way Demetri spits his new name finally gives him clarity.

“So what the fuck do you want from me?” he spits. “Why did you come here?”

“I came here because you were right. About everything.”

Any response is snatched from Hawk’s mouth.

For several seconds, all he can do is stare. Demetri smirks, apparently reveling in getting a leg up.

Hawk is so confused that he can’t even find it in himself to be angry. A strangled “what?” is all that comes out, pulling a snigger from his adversary.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out. Becoming the scariest fighter in the Valley. Making everyone quiver at the sight of you. Doing whatever you like because people aren’t brave enough to tell you no. Becoming your badass karate teacher’s little golden child. Getting rid of your weaknesses. Getting rid of me. But there’s one thing you got wrong.”

Typical Demetri. Monologuing around the point.

But Hawk is, nonetheless, finding his confusion turning to intrigue.

The mopey kicked puppy routine had gotten unbearably tedious. At least Demetri finally has the decency to give Hawk some variety.

“Oh, yeah?” He curls his lip. “What’s that?”

Demetri casually leans on Hawk’s dresser, like this is nothing more than a Friday night video game session.

“You think I avoid fights because I’m scared. But that’s not true anymore.” And there’s that grin again—that wide, unnerving grin that looks like it was pasted on from another human being’s face. The sort of manic look that would never in a thousand years belong on Demetri Alexopoulos.

“I avoid fights because I know who’s worth fighting. And who’s worth hurting.”

Well, that’s new.

Hawk narrows his eyes, trying to piece together if this is all some kind of trick.

“See, Eli, you were right that the world isn’t kind to people who get too soft.” Demetri starts sauntering over again, and that odd, metallic smell strengthens. “Or losers. Or weaklings. Or people who admit defeat. Give in too easily. Run off cowering and scared. So I’m shaking all that off. Next time I fight, I won’t lose.”

As Hawk pieces everything together, he scowls.

“So that’s what you want?” he hisses. “A rematch? Like you’d stand a chance.”

“So touchy. Do you only think of people in terms of whether you can beat them in a fight now? Boooooring.”

Demetri clicks his tongue disapprovingly. It’s a mocking gesture he’s been doing since they were little, but now something about it feels chilling.

Hawk’s back bumps his bedroom wall. Demetri’s closing in on him.

Fucking hell—he’s getting fed up with this cat-and-mouse. Why is he even entertaining this stupid nerd again?

It’s not like he gives a shit about him anymore. Then he wouldn’t snap his arm in half.

“Fuck off, Demetri!” he roars. “I fucking hate you. I don’t give a shit about anything you have to say! Get the hell out of my house, or I swear to god I’ll break your arm again.”

He fills the words with fire and force and poison, hoping something will hurt Demetri enough to make him go.

He can’t cave again. Not after he’s worked this hard to oust Demetri and everything he represents from his life.

Not after he’s severed Demetri’s bone with his own hands and smiled with his friends about it.

That should’ve been the last straw. That should’ve been what sent Demetri running for good, abandoning everything they’d once had to save himself.

But it didn’t. It fucking didn’t.

Demetri takes another step into his space, curling his lip. “You’re full of shit.”

“Fuck you.” Eli returns his stare, baring his teeth. “How are you so sure?”

“Because you hesitated.”

Hawk goes rigid.

“I begged you to stop.” Demetri’s hands slide onto the wall on either side of him, trapping him. “And you thought about it. You didn’t break my arm until all your psychotic teammates goaded you on. If you really hated me?” His voice drops to a breathy whisper. “You wouldn’t have even thought twice.”

“You don’t know shit.”

Demetri snickers.

“Poor little Eli. You’ve always sucked at arguing when you get backed into a corner.”

“I still broke it,” Hawk growls. “You know I can do it. Easily. So how are you stupid enough that you’re still fucking with me? You some kind of masochist?”

“You still care about me, Eli.” They’re inches apart now, Demetri leering over Hawk. “You never got over me not wanting to join your little club of sociopaths. Whenever there’s a rumble, you can’t stay away from me. And you want to know what I think?”

“Shut up.”

Demetri’s voice is husky in Hawk’s ear. “You wouldn’t hurt me when there’s no one to show off to.”

Hawk’s done with this.

He lunges, shoving Demetri’s chest and flying at him with an outstretched fist. He waits for that gratifying moment of shock—the familiar shift in Demetri’s features as he realizes yet again Hawk has no intention of going easy on him.

Demetri doesn’t even blink as he moves out of the way.

Hawk course-corrects, swiveling and diving for Demetri again. He throws the fastest punch he can manage straight at Demetri’s jaw.

Why the hell won’t he give up?

Demetri’s fantastic at giving up. He always has been. He gave up on standing up to bullies and he gave up on Cobra Kai and he gave up on Sensei Kreese.

So why won’t he give up on Hawk?

Demetri doesn’t dodge this time. He only swerves, allowing the fist to graze his chin.

He lets out a hiss of pain—angry, but not surprised.

Without warning, Demetri’s hands shoot up. Hawk freezes as long fingers snake across the skin of his arm.

The next second he’s screaming, Demetri’s hands twisting until his skin burns. The other boy’s grip tightens, thrusting him toward the floor.

He’s stealing my fucking moves again.

And frustratingly, he can do them fast. Hawk barely manages to use his other arm to shove Demetri off, stumbling back.

Even one moment of disorientation is too long. Demetri charges again, teeth bared like a wild animal.

One arm slams him against his bedroom wall while the other digs into his chest, squeezing the air out of him. And Hawk hates to admit it, but Demetri’s training-broadened shoulders have a terrifying amount of power behind them.

Nothing he can’t handle. Hawk’s taken on bigger opponents before.

He squirms in Demetri’s grip, his own arms loosening enough for his hands to make a grab for the taller boy’s throat. Then Demetri’s pinning hand is gone, slipping in and out of his jacket in what feels like less than a heartbeat.

Something cold and sharp presses Hawk’s throat. His hands drop, tensing against the wall.

“What the fuck…?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Eli.” Demetri tilts his head, pouting mockingly. “But you make it so damn hard to talk to you. Can’t do a thing without you coming at me like some kind of rabid coyote.”

“So you pull a…are you fucking insane?”

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Red Hulk Rage Issues.” The pout morphs into a smirk. “Clearly, you’re not above playing dirty, using that sad little Eli voice of yours to get out of trouble. Figured it was time I caught up.”

Hawk feels something sticky dripping down his neck. His breath hitches in his throat.

He aims a hit at Demetri’s stomach. The taller boy bends with it, and the blade presses harder.

“Oh, come now.” Demetri tuts disapprovingly. “Don’t make me slit your throat.”

Hawk hardens his expression, channeling everything in him into hiding the shock.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t think you’re in a great place to test that.”

And he’s right. Hawk hates it, but he’s right.

This isn’t the Demetri he knows better than the back of his hand. The Demetri he knows so uncomfortably well that he convinced himself over and over and over that it meant he was sick of the fucking geek.

This isn’t grounded, rational, sensible Demetri. Something’s snipped his threads, made him start fraying at the edges.

He’s unraveling, floating in an ether where the pragmatic and the path of least resistance that he made his life philosophy are losing their appeal. He’s…

Well, it seems he’s done some script-flipping of his own. Decided—perhaps on a whim—to overhaul everything Hawk knew and replace it with something cold and alien and completely fucking unpredictable.

Was this how Demetri felt, that day Hawk showed up at school with spiked hair and a conniving sneer? Is this some kind of payback?

He doesn’t care if this new boy with a knife to his throat killed and gutted the friend he grew up with. It doesn’t matter anymore. That relationship only ever got in the way, anyhow.

He truly could not care less. Honest.

The only emotion he feels is annoyance that this new opponent will be harder to match, with erratic moves and a quickly-thinning conscience.

This Demetri isn’t pulling any punches. One stupid or sloppy move, and Hawk will be on the floor gurgling his life out.

He’s never taken Demetri for someone impulsive, but perhaps he just had a talent for controlling his most brutal and primal urges—for his own safety, if nothing else. Perhaps he’s lost this ability.

Hawk wonders what it says about him that he isn’t bothered by this at all. If anything, he finds the whole concept exhilarating.

Fighting Demetri had gotten so boring. Now, at last, they’re on equal footing.

Regardless, there could be a trace of the Old Demetri yet. He might be able to use that.

“Put the fucking knife away or I’ll call the cops,” Hawk snarls. “Think you’ll get into Stanford with a police report on your permanent record? Or whatever fucking nerd school you’re trying to—”

“With what phone?” Demetri interrupts. “The one you left on the coffee table downstairs so it won’t distract you from wailing on your stupid bag?”

Fuck. How did Demetri even notice shit like that?

Hawk tries not to let the dismay show.

“When my mom gets home, she’ll—”

“Mommy’s not coming for you, Eli.” Demetri’s smirk widens. “Mommy’s getting drunk with all her friends to forget her unfulfilled suburban picket fence life with her nasty, violent delinquent of a son. And Mommy’s going to crash at Michelle Galinski’s house, just like she has every Friday night for the past 10 years. And oh dear…Daddy’s out of town on his top-of-the-month business trip? Looks like no one’s coming to save you.”

Fuck that. He can save himself.

Hawk makes a grab for Demetri’s wrist, other hand clawing at the arm compressing his chest. Demetri seamlessly lifts the elbow of his knife-holding arm and jabs the bony appendage into Hawk’s skin.

The knife blade doesn’t even falter, pressing more firmly into Hawk’s neck. A sting, and he feels something warm trickle toward his chest.

The scent from earlier intensifies, and Hawk realizes abruptly that it must have been blood.

“Mmmm-mmmm.” Demetri purses his lips and shakes his head, like he’s scolding a disobedient child. “It’ll make it much easier for both of us if you don’t act up. I really don’t want to cut your throat, but I will.”

As Demetri sneers down at him, Hawk realizes too late that he couldn’t cover his alarm.

“What? Don’t think I’d actually hurt you?”

The taller boy fiddles with the knife, sending little pricks of pain rippling through Hawk’s neck.

“I guess you know how it feels now,” he purrs.

Hawk spits in Demetri’s face, sudden fury overtaking him.

This pathetic nerd’s not going to make him feel bad now. Not after everything he’s done to crush the part of himself that possibly could feel bad.

“Fuck you.”

And slowly, never once breaking his gaze, Demetri licks Hawk’s saliva off his chin. The dim hallway light just catches the moisture on his face.

“Keep it in your pants, Moskowitz. We’re not there yet.”

Now Demetri’s definitely fucking with him.

It’s growing tiresome. Nonetheless, he doesn’t want that cut in his neck getting any wider.

There’s something distinctly unnerving about the way Demetri’s eyes are boring into him, sizing him up with a kind of cold contempt. Looking at him like he’s nothing more than some ugly insect to crush under his shoe.

It’s the sort of callousness that Hawk has never once—not in the entire time he’s known Demetri—been the target of.

And maybe he’ll admit it. He dislikes it for more than just the fact it throws him off.

Demetri is spiraling into someone unrecognizable, and the sheer foreignness of the whole process makes Hawk shudder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Hawk’s voice is small and weak. Like Eli’s.

He doesn’t care.

His entire sense of reality—every absolute, irrefutable truth he’s ever attached to himself and his life and his oldest friend—is uprooting and spinning out of control, and it’s not like anything fucking matters anymore.

Demetri laughs—a sharp, hollow sound devoid of any real humor.

“Like you’re one to talk. I know what you did to Brucks.”

Hawk’s blood freezes.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Demetri’s knife slides from the cut on Hawk’s neck, beginning to tease the underside of his chin. “Mitch told us what happened. And I damn well noticed when Brucks stopped showing up to school. Nice of your war criminal sensei to help you cover that up.”

Hawk’s breath comes in quick, short gasps.

Of course Demetri put two and two together. Of course he’d gone snooping so he could find something else to hang over Hawk’s head.

And the fall of that knife might be worse than the one currently tickling his jaw.

Part of him hates it. Hates being reminded of that day and hates being reminded what he’s capable of. Hates remembering the sight of a living, breathing person crumpling to the floor, and realizing they would never get up again.

But Hawk isn’t stupid. If anyone can play Demetri’s games, it’s the person who knows him better than anyone in the world.

“Demetri.” He keeps his tone as calm and non-abrasive as he can. “Who else’s blood is on your knife?”

Because it was still wet when Demetri shoved it up against him. And Demetri’s a moron if he thinks Hawk missed that.

“Ah. And we finally get to that.” Demetri chuckles, gently tracing Hawk’s jawline with the honed edge. “You see…the difference between you and me, Eli, is that I don’t need anyone’s help to hide my bodies.”

His heart drops to his feet.

“What did you do?”

“Not any worse than you.” Demetri cocks his head. “I hurt someone who deserved it.”

“Demetri.” Hawk steels his voice. “What did you do?”

Because whatever it was, Hawk sure as hell needs to take the proper precautions to make certain he isn’t next.

“Stopped at the convenience store on the way over here.” Demetri follows the knife with his eyes as he talks, expression almost affectionate. “Ran into one of Kyler’s old buddies from the wrestling team. One of the kids who used to call us fags, remember? He thought it would be fun to shove me around. So I pretended I was running my ass away, and got him to chase me somewhere a little more…private.”

Hawk gapes at him.

“Did you really…?”

“Shanked the asshole like a pig. He was so surprised he didn’t even fight back. And let me tell you, it was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

And there’s that laugh again—the broken, disjointed chortles that feel so jarringly out-of-place. Green eyes shining with a frenetic light that makes Hawk’s hands grow slick with sweat.

Demetri leans in again, knife held steady as his lips brush Hawk’s ear.

“I know how it feels, you know. I know what it is to get so angry that you don’t even know what your body’s doing until it’s too late. Watch the life fade out of another human being’s eyes. Realize you like it. Sit there panicking about being some kind of inhuman monster and then suddenly realizing you don’t fucking care. And I suppose…I suppose that’s another reason you were right. There is a certain freedom in embracing that the world is cruel and cutthroat and unforgiving. In finally unmuzzling the wild animal thrashing around inside you and letting it hunt the way it was always meant to.”

Hawk shudders.

Sensei Kreese promised no one would ever find out about Brucks. Staged some kind of car accident or binge-drinking tragedy or drug OD or some other way stupid teenagers die all the time. Kyler was barred from the funeral, with Kreese worried (probably reasonably) that the dumbass would let something slip.

Kreese told the class that if anyone snitched, he’d be more than willing to look the other way as they met the same fate as Brucks.

Hawk hated how much he enjoyed it. He hated how after the deed was done, he couldn’t find a scrap of guilt in his psyche. It made him feel detached from himself—the abstract idea that doing that to another person was bad, but the complete lack of any emotions to back it up.

But that’s who he is now. No going back, he supposes.

Perhaps, on some level, he figured Demetri would pick up on this and leave him alone. Decide that Hawk’s path was too dark and too dangerous for his pasty basement nerd tastes, and stay huddled away with the Miyagi Dos singing kumbaya.

That would probably be best for him, anyways. Hawk still doesn’t know what other horrific shit he has it in him to do, especially when his victim pleaded so hard for mercy that would never come. When Brucks’ fruitless begging gave him an unmistakable rush.

And yet here Demetri is, claiming he was in a similar position. Claiming he lost control.

It isn’t that Demetri can’t put on an act if he needs to. But on some level, Hawk’s always been able to tell when his best friend is exaggerating or embellishing to make a story more interesting. There’s a kind of snarky undertone he uses, always giving that he isn’t completely serious. Subtle, but easy to pick up if you’re familiar with it.

There’s none of that here. If anything, this is the kind of emotional vulnerability Demetri never displays intentionally.

Until now, apparently.

Hawk bites his lip. “You’re not lying, are you?”

“You’re so cute.” The tip of the knife jabs into the underside of Hawk’s chin. “You thought I was some…what? Some sissy little do-gooder? The pinnacle of morality and mercy and all great virtues? No, no.” He giggles. “I’ve always been as fucked up as you. I only managed to keep it buried longer.”

Hawk scowls, suddenly remembering exactly who he’s talking to.

“Give me a fucking break. You joined the pussy-ass ‘defense only’ karate dojo. Your entire philosophy is about being sissy little do-gooders. Like you’d have the balls to pull even half the shit Cobra Kai—”

The knife flies back to the wound in his throat, Demetri using his arm to ram Hawk harder into the wall.

“You think I ever gave a flying fuck about Miyagi-Do?” he spits. “You think I’m some slavering pet like you, tripping over my little lapdog paws to appease my sensei’s every command? You think these asinine karate wars ever mattered to me? No.” He shoves his face into Hawk’s, blood on his breath. “You’re the one so obsessed with following orders that you can’t even remember who you were before you became some demented old man’s attack dog. You’re the one so drunk on loyalty to a fucking karate dojo that you can’t see none of this shit matters.”

Hawk bares his teeth, hoping with everything he has that Demetri won’t notice him shaking.

“Easy for you to say, when you pussied out after one punch in the face,” he sneered. “Of course you want to believe all of this is pointless when you’re on the losing team. But I’m not like you, Demetri. I’m no quitter.”

“Oh, how admirable.” The knife presses a little harder. “Tell me then, Hawk. How’s being on the same team as Kyler? As fucking Robby Keene? You excited for the chance to help them hurt Miguel again?”

Red-hot rage rips through Hawk. He lifts a leg and knees Demetri’s shin as hard as he can.

Demetri barely even winces. His other foot kicks up, ramming the side of Hawk’s knee. Hawk scrambles for balance, heart pounding as he just avoids falling into the knifepoint.

“Thought that’d hit a nerve.”

“Fuck you!” Hawk spits. “Keene was from your fucking dojo! You fought with him, too!”

“Not since he hurt Miguel.”

Demetri’s voice is frigid, rivaling the most biting winter rains. Every inch of him drips with a venomous hatred that Hawk has never seen before.

Not directed at him. Not directed at anyone.

“And now he’s in your dojo. Funny how that works.” Demetri clicks his tongue. “Guess your roaring rampage of revenge was all for naught.”

“It wasn’t.” Hawk curls his lip. “You were all responsible, and we got our paypack. It’s not our fault Miguel wasn’t grateful.”

“Ooooh, gotta love the Hawk’s impeccable logic! ‘Ah, yes, I think I will terrorize everyone in this dojo except for the person who actually almost killed my friend, who I will agree to team up with for some reason!’” Demetri returns his sneer. “Are you really such an obedient little bitch that you do whatever your precious sensei tells you? Even when you damn well know it makes no sense? You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

“Park and Keene know their place,” Hawk hisses. “They know I’m the alpha. They answer to me.”

Demetri cocks his head, looking amused.

“Even if I were to believe that. Do you like sharing a class with those assholes? Do you like knowing that if one of them were to get their ass handed to them by a Miyagi-Do or an Eagle Fang—by Miguel—that you’d be expected to rescue them?”

“I’d do it.” Hawk grits his teeth. “I wouldn’t like it, but I’d fucking do it. Sensei Kreese gave Sensei Lawrence and the others a chance to join back up with Cobra Kai, and they said no. Miguel chose his side.”

Demetri sighs, expression almost pitying.

“I guess ‘Cobra Kai for life’ trumps a Cobra’s desire to beat another Cobra into the damn ground. Kind of a shame. I think you’d enjoy hurting them.”

What Demetri said earlier circles back into his mind.

I avoid fights because I know who’s worth hurting.

Hawk straightens, keeping his composure.

“Sensei says we need all the allies we can get,” he says. “Even if we don’t like them. I’m putting up with Kyler and Robby long enough to win the tournament, and that’s it. Then I’ll find some way to weed them out.”

“I doubt it.” Demetri smiles down at him. If it weren’t for the knife, Hawk would punch his teeth in. “Contrary to how you act, I know you’re a smart guy. If you knew how to get rid of them, you would have already. No, Eli…” His voice drops to a purr. “You’re stuck with them, aren’t you?”

Hawk feels sick.

Leave it to Demetri to pinpoint his deepest fears—a karate clan filled with the worst people Hawk knew. Not a single friend to speak of, and a sensei with constantly divided attention.

Even Tory was turning out to be a fucking snake in the grass. She certainly took to the boy who nearly killed her ex with not an ounce of guilt.

And yet she believed with all of her being that Demetri deserved a broken arm for what Robby Keene did. That he was a pussy for crying out in pain. Actions didn’t matter to her—only the name branded across the merchandise you wore and the color of your gi at tournaments.

For the first time, the thought makes Hawk seethe.

All this time she’d seemed nothing but tough and fearless, but all she was was a shallow bitch who cared more about rank and status than a damn thing you actually did.

She was always going to hate Sam LaRusso for being rich and popular. She was always going to hate Miyagi Do for its association with LaRusso. But the second Keene bailed? Put on a belt with a cobra on it and showed off his snake-snatching skills?

She couldn’t wait to get on his dick. The filthy slut.

And suddenly Hawk realizes that he hates her, too. He hates so many of the people who are supposed to be his allies. But he can’t afford to think like that. And most of all, he can’t afford to let Demetri see it.

He glowers up at his ex-best-friend, keeping his gaze stony. “And why do you care? You have your posse of Miyagi losers to pal around with. Why do you give a shit what I do? Just go home to your little—”

“I left Miyagi-Do!”

The words come out in a forceful scream that practically knocks Hawk even further into the wall.

The sheer disdain in Demetri’s eyes for the group he had so cozily assimilated into sends Hawk reeling. He’d never—not in this lifetime or the next—expect Demetri to toss the whole lot of them out like garbage.

Demetri breaks into another grin, reveling in Hawk’s stunned silence.

“See, that’s another difference between you and I, Eli. I don’t need some washed-out old man telling me what to believe and how to fight. I can think for myself. And frankly, I got sick of the ‘safety in numbers’ business when it seemed ‘the numbers’ were always the ones who got to pick my enemies for me. And no one—” His eyes burn into Hawk. “No one decides that but me. I hurt who I like when I like, and I’ll fucking gut anyone who gets in my way.”

Hawk exhales slowly, keeping his scowl pulled tight.

“So…what?” Hawk sneers. “You’re going to fight Cobra Kai by yourself now? That’s so fucking stupid.”

“Not all of them. Some of your class are just brainwashed idiots who don’t know what they’re doing.” He sighs, shaking his head. “And you, Eli…well, I think you’ve lost sight of who your true enemy is. I was hoping I could help.”

“You really bounced?” Hawk narrows his eyes, still trying to make sense of everything. “After everything, you…just up and left?”

It can’t be that easy. He knows it wouldn’t be in Cobra Kai.

“Yeah.” Demetri shrugs. “And now I have way more time for important things.”

“I don’t get it.” Hawk’s frown deepens. “Why would you strike off on your own? Did something happen?”

“You happened.”

Short. Simple. Concise.

Completely baffling.

Not that that was anything new today.

Maybe it’s Hawk’s imagination, but the knife loosens a little.

“Don’t you get it?” For the first time all night, something like genuine anguish prods through Demetri’s voice. “I meant what I said. I never gave a rat’s ass about the karate wars, or the stupid dojo feuds. All I ever wanted was to be worth your fucking time again.”

All Hawk can do is stare.

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any fucking sense.

“And sure,” Demetri concedes after a moment. “At first, I wanted to do right by Mr. LaRusso. By Sam. They were the ones who taught me. Toughened me up into something worthwhile. Worked with all the shit you thought was a lost cause. But it was always a means to an end to stay relevant to you. Then after what happened with Moon, I genuinely thought the Miyagi-Do philosophy would help you. But I learned soon enough that you were in too deep for appealing to the Old Eli to work. No, I had to speak to you in your own language.”

He licks his lips as the knife starts to slide up Hawk’s neck again, dancing over the bottom of his chin and onto the plump skin of his lips.

“Aggression. Violence. Dominance.” He chuckles. “Wasn’t my go-to, but if it got your attention, I could make it work. And I guess I did, huh? I riled you up enough that you couldn’t leave me alone.”

“You wanted to piss me off?”

“If that’s what it took to keep you coming back for more.” And there it is again—that wide, sadistic grin that feels so brutally wrong. “You can leave me, Eli. You can disown me. You can shit on everything we had and make my life a living hell. But you can’t bring yourself to just ignore me. Because you’re so weak that you can’t bear to refuse the bait when I press your buttons. Because as much as you claim to hate me, you can’t move on from me.”

“And now you ditch your team to…what? Fight me on your own?” Hawk matches Demetri’s grin with one of his own. “I’d wreck you. And deep down, you know it.”

“So presumptuous.” Demetri shakes his head, tutting. “Frankly, I came here tonight because I’m sick of fighting you.”

“Says the one with a knife to my throat.”

“That’s because you don’t fucking listen without me having to resort to extreme measures,” Demetri hisses. “I think we’re a lot closer to being on the same page than you think. And maybe if you dropped this whole tribalism bullshit, you’d see that.”

So Demetri wants a truce. Hawk should have known.

He’s not surprised. But the way they arrived here?

Now that’s a twist.

It’s still an insane concept. Like he’s supposed to let his greatest enemy off the hook. Let Demetri get away with all the ways he’s undermined him and humiliated him and put the Old Eli—the weak, pathetic nerd Eli—on blast for all the world to see.

But if Demetri really left Miyagi Do…

Hawk finds himself wondering how much of his rage against the Miyagi Dos is his own, and how much is Sensei Kreese’s. And if Demetri’s truly deserted “the enemy,” does Hawk still have to hate him?

Does he even want to?

Demetri isn’t that pathetic, sniveling dweeb anymore. He’s crushed his old self as brutally as Hawk has.

Because the Demetri Hawk has known all his life could scarcely bring himself to cook with sharp knives, let alone use one to threaten another human being’s life.

Or take one.

But despite everything, something still doesn’t add up.

“I heard about your little rousing speech,” Hawk says. “About how important it was for Miyagi Do and Eagle Fang to unite against the ‘biggest assholes in the Valley.’ And now you’ve abandoned both of them. Was that all just a load of crap, then?”

Demetri is unfazed.

“Call me naïve, but I thought if Miguel and I were on the same team, you’d finally see some damn sense. You’d hurt me, sure. I’ve known that for a while. But I never thought you’d touch the kid you went on a vengeance quest for.” He shrugs. “Color me surprised when you wrote him off as just another enemy.”

“I told you.” Hawk works his fingers against the wall again, uneasiness trickling over his skin. “Miguel chose his side.”

“Be that as it may. I figured if you were so far gone that you were ready to wail on literally every person you used to be friends with, I needed to adjust my strategy.”

“For what?”

“For getting through to you. For getting you to tell the truth.”

And Hawk doesn’t want to think for too long about what truth Demetri has in mind.

“So you pull out a fucking knife.”

“Mhm.” Demetri snickers. “That’s how you communicate, yeah? Threats and intimidation?”

Hawk clenches his jaw. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Is that so.” The arm suddenly lifts from squeezing Hawk’s chest, long fingers seizing his wrist. He’s too surprised to pry them away.

He really should be expecting this kind of insane bullshit by now.

“Your pulse is going haywire, Eli,” Demetri murmurs. “Either you’re a liar, or something else has you energized. I wonder what that could be?”

It’s then Hawk’s mind fully catches up to its surroundings.

He rips his wrist away, pivoting away from the knife and sending a knee into Demetri’s ribs. The knife tip slices his cheek, but so be it. He’s endured worse.

Demetri gasps, stumbling back. Hawk makes a grab for the knife.

The taller boy is still too quick. He holds the weapon out of reach, using his other arm to thrust Hawk’s body back.

Before Demetri can do anything else, Hawk squats down and sweeps his leg. With a grunt, his opponent stumbles to the floor.

Something seizes Hawk’s ankles as he stands. He cries out as he’s yanked backward with surprising force, landing on the floor next to Demetri.

Hawk scrambles for the bed, trying to writhe out of Demetri’s grip and hoist himself up by the covers.

It’ll be over when I have the high ground.

What a stupid reference to think about.

It reminds him of the kind of game he and Demetri might have once played. Whoever made it onto the bed would get to be Obi-Wan, and whoever stayed on the floor would have to be Anakin, drowning in lava.

The idea leaves him feeling strange.

Demetri doesn’t let go, snarling like a hyena as he tries to tug Hawk back. The knife teases his skin, an imminent threat if he makes any moves too sudden.

He’d kick the annoying asshole away from him, but he doesn’t want the sole of his foot sliced open. If he can’t walk, he can’t fight.

Suddenly, Demetri cries out, grip loosening. In Hawk’s struggles, he must’ve rammed into a sensitive spot. He yanks himself free, scrambling onto the bed and frantically trying to plan his next move.

He realizes his mistake a half-second too late.

Demetri, gleefully bluffing, rises to his full height. Smirking, he pounces like a jaguar.

He lands heavily on Hawk’s stomach, slamming him against the bed. The back of his head smacks against the headboard, filling his vision with stars.

He barely has time to let out a pained gasp before Demetri’s knees are digging into his quadriceps, pinning him again. Growling, he aims a punch at Demetri’s throat.

His fist meets its target, pulling a strangled gasp. Hawk clasps his arms around Demetri’s torso, trying to thrust him off the bed.

For a moment they struggle, yanking and shoving wildly in an attempt to gain an advantage. Then Hawk feels long arms wrap around his back, bony fingers clutching at his throat.

The tingling pain of blade against skin, and Hawk realizes Demetri kept hold of his knife.

Whenever I think he’s finally going to drop that damned thing…

The knife jabs into him, strengthening its grip until he’s pressed flat on his back. At last Demetri loosens his grip, sizing up his victim with a satisfied beam.

Hawk squirms, bed creaking as he does his best to jostle Demetri off. The other boy holds fast, gazing down at him with a pitying look.

The blade digs in again, and Hawk’s struggles weaken.

“Come now. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“Let. Me. Go.”

“I don’t believe I was finished.”

Demetri tilts his head to the side, breaking into another crazed grin that sends dread trickling straight down to Hawk’s bones.

“Shut up Demetri.”

“I see you staring at me. All this time, and all these girls you tried so hard to fuck, and everything always comes back to your stupid middle school infatuation.”

“SHUT UP!”

Hawk squeezes his eyes shut, trying to bleach Demetri’s cold, smug expression from his mind.

“Right after you had your Bar Mitzvah, you asked me to kiss you. You figured since I already had mine, we were both adults now. And adults do grown-up things like kissing.”

“STOP IT!”

And suddenly Hawk is screaming at the top of his lungs because he knows where this is going. Because they were just stupid kids, and that can’t mean anything.

“I said of course I would, because I’d always liked you, Eli.” Demetri’s voice only grows louder—more insistent. “And I go in to give you a peck, and you grab my arms and stick your entire tongue in my mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Demetri!”

He feels something wet dribbling down his face, and wonders if the cut on his cheek got stretched wider in his and Demetri’s scuffle. It’s certainly stinging enough for it.

Unless…

Hawk wishes he could dissolve.

“I told you I’d kiss you a thousand more times if you wanted.” Demetri’s voice has grown sharper than his blade. “And I would have. And for a long while, I thought there might be the most infinitesimal possibility that you felt something, too. Now I know I was right.”

He laughs, the sound acrid and bitter and full of flint.

“Because even after everything, you’re still obsessed with me. You watch me across the lunchroom and pretend you’re ‘monitoring the enemy,’ but I know you miss me. You miss when I made you laugh, and you miss when I talked to people so you didn’t have to. You chase me around in every battle, but when it comes right down to it, you can’t hurt me in any significant way until you’re bullied into it. You pick fights with me so you can put your hands all over my body and not have anyone look at you askance for it.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Maybe if he screams loud enough, Demetri won’t pay too much attention to the wet trails smearing the blood from his cuts.

Caustic breath is hovering inches above Hawk, misting onto his lips. Still, he refuses to open his eyes.

“It must be exhausting, you know,” Demetri whispers. “Living your life in denial like that. Wearing your entire personality like some cheap Halloween costume and convincing yourself that’s a fulfilling existence. Don’t you want to be free?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Hawk growls. “I do whatever I like. It’s not my fault you don’t like who I really am.”

“Who you really are, hmmm?” Demetri’s lips brush his earlobe, voice a barely-audible murmur. “So tell me the truth then, Eli. Do you still want me?”

The bluntness of the question almost blows a hole in his composure.

“Of course I don’t.”

“Stop fucking lying!”

All at once, Demetri’s voice is a deafening, furious scream again. The knife slices Hawk’s jaw.

Not enough to do any real harm, but enough to really hurt. Hawk freezes, held prisoner by the burst of sharp, sudden pain.

“It’s always lies, lies, lies with you,” Demetri snarls. “Fake name. Fake hair color. Fake personality. Fake interests. Fake friends who only kiss the ground you walk on because they’ve never seen you at your weakest. Fake relationships with girls you barely let know you—to the point you think they’d leave you for liking to code. And the absolute drivel you feed yourself that this goddamn farce is what you want to live in forever. You think you’re starring in some martial arts epic, and you’re so wrapped up in your stupid method acting that you never want to step offscreen. Like everyone’s on the edge of their seat about your pitiful life like it’s the fucking Truman Show. And at the end of the day? You’re still too much of a pussy to tell me the truth.”

Hawk’s skin tingles, shivers rippling through him. If his heart was pounding before, it’s thundering now.

Somehow it doesn’t feel like fear. He’s used to this new version of Demetri enough not to cower from him.

No, it’s something far worse. And Demetri knows it.

“You can’t hide from me.” The other boy’s tone drips with haughtiness, savoring the ability to confirm Hawk’s worst fears. “I see right through your bullshit. I always have. So I’ll ask you one more time. Do you want me?”

The knife slides down to Hawk’s throat again, pressing firmly.

“Lie and I’ll kill you.”

He’s probably bluffing. Maybe. Surely.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter anymore. Sprawled out on his childhood bed, underneath the only other person he frequently shared it with.

The person he used to watch sleep, wondering wistfully if the freak with the lip scar ever made it into his best friend’s dreams.

He opens his eyes and finally meets Demetri’s gaze, in all of its searing, insurmountable beauty.

“Yeah.”

He breathes it out quiet and fragile—a soft promise. A rare moment of openness that he lets free of his unbreakable shell.

Demetri drops the knife. It falls behind the bed, thumping onto the carpet below.

He swoops down, seizing Hawk’s neck and yanking him up. When their mouths meet, Hawk is nearly thrown back with the force of it.

Demetri kisses like a starved animal, lapping and nipping in a crazed frenzy. The weight of his muscle-toned body is crushing, locking Hawk firmly against the mattress.

He tastes like blood and cold steel and cruelty. Hawk shudders.

This time, he’s certain it isn’t fear. It’s a rush he only thought he could get from smashing his fists against plastic or skin, or feeling another person’s body go limp and lifeless underneath his.

And it’s ironic. The more Demetri tries to devour Hawk, the more Hawk wants to let it happen.

There’s an odd satisfaction to it, he thinks. Being completely at someone else’s mercy.

And Demetri isn’t fighting with any.

***

OKAY, time for some #authorrants because I feel like some of the choices I made in this fic are. Controversial, to say the least. Lmao.

So something that has bugged the crap out of me for a while now is people in this fandom acting like there is any world where Demetri would choose Robby over Miguel. I remember after S3 dropped, there was a lot of "dId tHeY fOrGeT tHe dEmEtRi-rObBy FrIeNdShIp" type sentiment floating around irt why Demetri didn't stay in contact with Robby the way Sam and the LaRussos did. Maybe it's because, I don't know, Robby threw the guy Demetri never actually stopped being close friends with over a balcony and almost killed him???

Like. Not that these showrunners don't ever forget things, but this absolutely is not one of them. Robby paralyzing Miguel is a BEYOND valid reason to sever ties with him, especially when you were just casual dojo bros for a couple months tops. When push came to shove, Demetri pretty unequivocally CHOSE MIGUEL. He brought him a comic book in the hospital! He was thrilled to see him back at school and picked up their friendship right where it left off! He DOES NOT VISIBLY FORGIVE ROBBY UNTIL MIGUEL DOES! Idk idk it just really riles me when people do not take Demetri and Miguel's friendship into account when discussing the Demetri-Robby relationship and why they stopped being friends when they did. Tbh I don't think it's that hot of a take to assume Demetri would have more loyalty to the guy who befriended him when he was a nobody and proceeded to be one of his closest ride-or-die friends for a whole-ass year over the guy he was casual buds with because they happened to share a karate instructor -_____- I could go on about this for several more paragraphs, but that's a rant for another day.

(As far as the LaRussos go, they were all closer to Robby and were basically his adoptive family, which is why they--particularly Sam--were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and say the Miguel thing was an accident. Demetri didn't know Robby well enough to make that call, and had no actual proof it WAS an accident except for maybe Sam's word.)

Some other things to ramble about:

I remember in some interview a while back (I think with Martin Kove?) someone asked about Hawk and Marty or whoever was being interviewed said he was "on his way to being a serial killer" or smth. And Jacob's talked a little bit about the kind of escalating delinquent shit Hawk would get up to if he was never redeemed, etc. So going with that: Bold of y'all to assume the kid simping for Hawk since episode 1 wouldn't renounce his morals and join him on the path to villainy. Sorry but I truly believe Demetri's horniness for Hawk can and would win out over any ethical qualms in the end. Also Demetri is horny for violence and evil this is canon otherwise he would in fact not have simped for S3 Hawk so PAINFULLY BADLY god bless

Also this was partly inspired by those post-S3 jokes that were like "lol what happened to Brucks??? Did Hawk kill him???"...well, what if he did, tho? O_____O

Disclaimer that I promise I do not endorse the Tory slut-shaming!!! Tbh I didn't really wanna write it, but...I think given the circumstances, Hawk WOULD be pretty furious at her for getting chummy with Robby and "betraying" Miguel. And unfortunately, since he's a teenage boy with (canonical!) misogynistic tendencies...I do think that would most likely come across as slut-shaming D: But y'all have brains y'all know I don't condone everything I write about aknhdksuyhf (Murder is probably not something you should try at home either btw)

Hopefully I didn't make Hawk too weaksauce in this ^^; My excuses are a) I suck at writing fight scenes and tend to just want to get to the psychosexual dialogue and knife-teasing, so. If I rushed anything to get there I apologize. b) Going by the school fight, Hawk is indeed thrown off when Demetri takes the offensive (especially in a super dramatic kind of way) and his confused pause is in fact enough time for Demetri to get an advantage and c) The man is thrown off his game!!! Thrown off his groove, even!!! His sissy pussy nerd ex-friend shows up acting like a disturbed maniac and he is so O_____o about it that his moves are off!!! He's sucking a little but it's not his fault 💔It's Demetri's for subverting expectations 💔

I also feel like if Demetri started McFucking Losing It and was generally less grounded in the physical and rational world, physical pain wouldn't register quite as much. Like he's in his head enough now that he's kinda lost his grip on reality and things happening in the physical world don't seem as relevant or immediate, if that makes any sense? Also idk. Maybe after the arm break his pain tolerance just went up :O Anyways that's why he recovers pretty fast when Hawk DOES land a hit. Demetri is nuts now 💙

I will die on my hill that Demetri like. Really REALLY isn't as morally upstanding as people like to think XD Like I say this with love but from the top he's been a self-interested little shit who just happens to be extremely loyal to the very small handful of people he actually likes. My dudes, he didn't join Miyagi Do because he liked their philosophy better--he joined because they were less on board with punching him in particular in the face XD This dude saw Cobra Kai being fucks and playing dirty at the AVT and he STILL up and says "I wanna come back because I like the 'safety in numbers' aspect of joining a gang" XD I always got the vibe the "well at least I'm not an asshole LIKE YOU" he throws at Eli later is more because he likes to feel self-righteous. I say all of this as his biggest fan btw. I think more people should embrace the self-interested king he is and write about him and Eli being absolute dicks together instead of to each other 💖

I guess that's what I'm here for!!!

Anyways I think Demetri and Eli have the same potential to be absolutely horrific people, and I think we're all very lucky that Demetri was too lazy to challenge his comfort zone and stick with Cobra Kai XD We're very fortunate he happened to end up using his speed and his brains to help his friends who happened to be on the Good Guy Side rather than his friends who happened to be on the Bad Guy Side.

I also think people put WAY too much stock in Demetri's ability to staunchly stick with the good guys and have enough of a moral backbone to just keep opposing Eli's douchebaggery indefinitely. My mans is NOT that much of a saint, trust. From how quickly he forgave Eli for a HUGE number of atrocities, he seemed to be like. Waiting on his ass for Eli to come back to him. And if Eli never did???

I mean. Bruh. Someone you've been deeply in love with for years throws you out like last night's trash and just progressively starts being more and more awful to you??? You think it's feasible for my boy Demetri to stay strong and sane and reasonable forever, and just keep on fighting the good fight??? HELL NO. This dude is either a) quitting karate and moving schools so he doesn't have to deal with constantly being pummeled by the dude he's in love with or b) going completely fucking insane from the cognitive dissonance of being in love with a dude who constantly beats his ass.

Listen. I have been in love. If my friend who I was in love with turned evil and joined an evil karate school and started wailing on me all the time, I would either pull an Aisha and haul ass out of there or I would simply lose my mind and become evil. Go full Jinx from Arcane. Sorry if you're a hater who doesn't think Demetri Alexopoulos has it in him to go apeshit, but you're wrong and also boring. The funny kooky comic relief guys are always one thread away from losing their shit because everyone assumes because they're funny and kooky they have no depth and no end to their bullshit tolerance. I would know because I am one of these Guys in real life. Put some respecc on my boy's name and also give him another knife 🔪

For anyone looking at me askance like "Demetri doesn't have it in him to kill!" Yes he does. I'm sending him over to your house to stab you right now 🩵

No fr tho, like there was MURDER in this man's eyes when Kyler was bullying Eli in the library. There was MURDER in this man's eyes fighting Robby at the AVT in S4. I have full confidence that if he could get away with stabbing his enemies, he would. So would Eli but I feel like this is a less contested opinion.

Also this is interesting so it's something I might go into detail about in another post, but one thing I noticed while kinda brainstorming how Demetri would snap is that Demetri is loyal to people, while Eli is loyal to concepts and ideas.

Demetri I don't think is actually that married to or slavish about MD principles tbh. Demetri isn't really averse to violence conceptually (even back in S1 it's only ever about him disliking BEING hit, not disliking hitting people!!) and doesn't actually do the defense-only thing that often. Several times we see him instigate with Hawk, or help Sam instigate with CK in general. The times we see him stick his neck out to really help Miyagi Do, he seems like he's doing so more out of loyalty to his friends (namely Sam, Chris, and Nate--also Miguel irt the dojo team-up at the end of S3) than loyalty to Miyagi Do as a dojo.

Eli, meanwhile, is way more loyal to concepts he puts a lot of stock in than the people in his life who challenge this. He sees Cobra Kai as this almighty saving grace that is for LIFE, and he doesn't think twice about ditching Demetri and Miguel when they turn their backs on it. He stays in this dojo even as his friends leave and it fills up with people he hates, and his sensei dismisses and ignores his concerns. Because this dojo saved him from his horrible, bullied life, and now he feels like he owes everything to the Cobra Kai name, despite who's actually behind the name. Also why I think Demetri uses "my karate dojo needs your help!" as the selling point to get Eli to join MD in S4. HIS motivation is probably much more that he just wants him and Eli to stay together, but he knows Eli values dojo loyalty above everything, so Dem kinda makes it more about that than friendship.

Anyways! That's all for now! The whole fic should be up on my AO3 sometime in December :3

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