Sticks and stones (part 1)

[danzanelfuoco]

COBRA KAI

Demetri/Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz

CW: canon-typical violence, bullying

COW-T (week 5, mission 4): Zitti e buoni - Måneskin 

Scusami ma ci credo tanto

Che posso fare questo salto

E anche se la strada è in salita

Per questo ora mi sto allenando

(Excuse me, but I really believe 

I can step up

Even if the road is uphill

I’m training for it) 

Moon 

If you think it can never get worse, you’re an idiot. 

Demetri’s first rule and yet he managed to forget it. 

He was a pessimist to the core - realist, if you asked him, because come on, he knows what he’s working with. He’s not cool nor handsome, he’s not good at sports and he plays Dungeons & Dragons, for effe’s sake. He was never ever gonna kiss a girl - not until college, but probably later. 

That’s how it started in the first place. ‘Could it be any worse than this?’ he had asked. ‘Like, what’s the alternative, the status quo? Being kiss virgin till the end of times?’ 

Idiot. 

Of course, it could be worse. It could always be worse. 

Demetri stares at the crowd around him, feeling more alone than ever. 

Miguel is drunk and pining over Sam LaRusso of all people, Aisha is not really his friend, and Eli… 

well, Hawk is trying to taste Moon’s dinner directly from her esophagus, considering how deep his tongue is in the girl’s throat. 

And, well, good for him, right? Climbing the social ladder, becoming cool, making out with one of the most popular girls in high school. 

He should be happy for his friend. Just his friend, it’s not like they own each other anything. 

Then why the heck does it hurt so much? 

Radio 

The loud music has him practically jumping to his feet, wide awake, as the electric guitar riff gets distorted by static shocks. 

It’s four-thirty in the morning and Eli wouldn’t want anything better than getting back to sleep, but then, No, no, come on, don’t be a pussy, he practically hears Sensei Lawrence yelling in his head, so the only option when the radio clock goes off is throwing away the blanket and getting up before his brain can decide otherwise. 

Eli rubs his eyes, tiredly and heads for the bathroom, going for the hair gel even before the toothbrush. 

“I’m a tough guy,” he says in the mirror as he pulls up and fixes strands of hair - and maybe if he repeats it long enough the plain loser that is still Eli Moskowitz under all that dye and ink will just go away, fade and disappear as if he had never existed. 

Sculpture 

When Demetri looks at his friend it’s like watching one of those lenticular printed cards. If he squints hard enough and in the right light he can still see him, with his scarred lip and his shy smile, eyes downcast but still of the bluest blue Demetri had ever seen. 

Not that he had spent a lot of time thinking about Eli’s eyes, it was just that they were there, you couldn’t just not notice them. 

And, well, those eyes are still there but the look in them has hardened and, the thing is, Eli was never particularly tall, nor he had broad shoulders, and that is something that not even training can change, but somehow between push-ups and kicks and punching things he had developed a bundle of muscles that wouldn’t look bad on a greek statue or something like that. 

(If he had to say, Demetri would choose Donatello’s David, little and strong and winning over bigger things than himself. But he doesn’t have to say, because no one cares to hear.

Besides, damn, it would be so gay.)

Lipstick 

“Oh, really?!” Hawk scoffs and rubs his hand against his jaw again, trying to scrub away the oily pinkish patina, without much success - the only thing he achieves is to spread the lipstick stain so that now it reaches his chin and cheek. 

“I was your first kiss, wasn’t I?” Moon chuckles and bites her lower lip, still swollen from his kisses, in an endearing gesture. 

Any other phrasing - ‘was I the first girl you kissed?’ - would have sent the ‘no’ on his lips in the grey area of ‘technically a lie’ but Hawk knows better than to say something that would make him look like a loser, so “No, I’ve had plenty before,” he says and he pretends he doesn’t care it’s the truth, plain and simple. 

His tone is playful enough to elicit another chuckle from Moon. “Well, yes, I can imagine, swarms of girls… You were so popular,” she mocks him and it’s not like she wants to hurt him (that times are way past him now that he’s Hawk, right?) but still, she sees the sparkle in his eyes die. 

‘It’s not exactly as if we’re so popular, we’re gonna have swarms of girls just waiting to kiss us, right?’ Had said Demetri, and Eli had had to nod because it was the truth and ‘It can be so bad, I mean, could it be any worse than this?’ he had asked. ‘Like, what’s the alternative, the status quo? Being kiss virgin ‘till the end of times?’ 

So they had tried and it was weird and a little gross and they didn’t know exactly what was all the fuss about it so they tried again until it wasn’t weird anymore. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he sobers and there’s something in his eyes that has Moon bite back any question. 

“Yes, sure, ok.”

Hawks rubs his jaw again and can’t help but think he never had to deal with lipstick while kissing Demetri. 

Ice 

Demetri has tried, you can’t hold it against him, he has tried. But he was never the sports guy and for how much he would love to go through the same life-changing experience Miguel and Eli went through, he just… can’t. 

Eli - sorry, Hawk, as he wants to be called now - Hawk rolls his eyes and pats away Demetri’s hand. “Stop whining and hold it right or it won’t work,” he says as he presses the ice pack against his friend’s cheekbone, and Demetri grimaces. 

“He punched me! Your Sensei Kreese!” And he’s not whining, ok? He’s not - well, just a little, but come on, he has just been punched, repeatedly, in the face by a guy that triples his weight and probably quadruples his age and that looks way scarier than Sensei Lawrence. 

“Yeah, and?” Eli - no, Hawk asks, as if he really thought there was nothing wrong with what Demetri was telling him. “You need to punch and be punched if you wanna do karate.”

“Maybe I don’t want to do karate.”

“Everyone wants to do karate,” Hawk shakes his head. “Come on, don’t be a pussy. You’ll get used to it in no time.” 

Demetri opens his mouth to protest - 

I don’t want to get used to it. I don’t want you to be used to get punched in the face. I just want everything back, even if it sucked 

- and then closes it and that’s just another thing he won’t say. 

Trick/Joke 

It’s a joke, it must be, Hawk thinks and stares at his damn screen so hard the pixels begin to blur as if by squinting his eyes enough the Yelp review will change itself into a five stars' one. 

It hurts worse than being slammed in the ground and punched in the face and in his stomach until he doubles over to throw up. 

Why would Demetri do something like this? 

Cobra Kai is his life and his best friend - and keep lying, would you as if his opinion wasn't the one that ever mattered -  has gone and reviewed it a single shitty star. 

That was worth Eli back then, and that’s what’s worth Hawk right now because Eli was not enough and Hawk is not enough and anything he does will never be enough, will never get past that one shitty star. 

It tastes like betrayal and it shatters him. 

Troppe notti stavo chiuso fuori

Mo li prendo a calci 'sti portoni

(Too many nights I’ve been locked out

Now I’m kicking down the doors)

 

Tower

It all falls down, like Bran Stark from that fucking tower. 

Demetri should have seen it coming - the signs were all there after all - he should have paid more attention. But it was so much easier to pretend everything was as usual, except the shitty parts were no longer shitty - no longer having backpack thrown in the trash, no longer sitting all alone at the cafeteria, no longer people shoving them against the lockers just because they could. 

Of course, there was a price to pay. 

He should have felt the stone crumble under his feet, as his friend slipped between his fingers. 

For how much Demetri prides himself on being a cynic realist, he must admit he’s so fucking good at pretending to not see the truth in front of him. 

Because yes, Demetri should have seen it coming - and yet he can’t believe he’s in a mall, running away from Eli now.

Evening

It was a dull evening, as evenings usually are for people who don’t have anything to do besides homework, people who are losers and therefore don’t have any social life. 

“I think we should try kissing,” Demetri said and Eli just raised his eyebrows in silence. 

“I know! I know how that sounds, but hear me out, ok? It’s not exactly as if we’re so popular, we’re gonna have swarms of girls just waiting to kiss us, right?”

Eli nodded, because, well, he knew the truth when it was laid bare in front of him, he was not stupid. Still, kissing Demetri didn’t seem like a good choice. 

“It can’t be so bad, I mean, could it be any worse than this?’ Demetri asked and Eli didn’t dare reply because he knew it was a rhetorical question and his friend wouldn’t want to hear his answer, for how much he prided himself to be a cynic pessimist - but yes, of course, it could get so much worse. 

‘Like, what’s the alternative, the status quo?” Demetri kept talking uninterrupted, “Being kiss virgin ‘till the end of times? It’s just practice, right? Like, we’re not gay.” 

Eli should tell him that ‘not being gay’ doesn’t mean automatically ‘straight’, but Demetri had a Tumblr account as much as Eli did and if he’s willing to ignore the whole range of bisexuality and pansexuality and the sorts in perorating his cause, maybe Eli can hope. 

“No. No, we’re not,” Eli half-smiles. “Ok, let’s do it.”  

Deception 

Demetri is not lying, not technically. After all, the reason he knocks at the door of Miyagi-do is learning karate in a non-threatening space. 

If it just happens to not be the only reason, Mr. Larusso doesn’t really have to know. 

Because putting aside all deceptions and half-truths, Demetri doesn’t really want to learn karate - and what’s with this sudden obsession anyway, it’s like he has entered a parallel dimension where karate is the new football, what the heck. 

The thing is, if he should be honest, he’s making a point, sending a message by standing his ground. 

And if he has to pretend to like karate… well, it’s just another shitty thing he’ll have to swallow down. At least he’s not getting punched in the face. 

Lucky charm

Hawk puts a hand on his own chest and presses, through the cloth of the t-shirt, the sore point where he knows there’s the small half-moon tattooed on his skin. 

It’s not that big or complex, it’s not even her full name, but it’s her, anyway, even if ‘she didn’t ask him to do it’ - she didn’t complain, though, when he showed her, beaming so happily, and she never told him he shouldn’t have done it, so to him it’s a moot point. 

It was supposed to be a token of love, a lucky charm for their relationship to thrive and blossom - as if at sixteen he really thought they were gonna be together the rest of their lives as if he didn’t already know better, that some things never last. 

Eli presses the aching skin again but the pang it elicits is not enough to overcome the other pain in his chest as Moon breaks up with him. 

Indecision 

Demetri, always the brainy guy, has never been impulsive, so, of course, there’s the split moment of indecision as he looks at Eli, sitting on a couch, gaze lost in the distance, as the party of his ex-girlfriend goes on around him. 

Demetri feels sorry for him, even if he isn’t exactly sorry about their break-up (moreover since half the school knows the straw that broke the camel’s back was Demetri - even if the ‘how’ wasn’t exactly what he would have preferred, being kissed instead of being kicked would have been better, thanks). Still, Demetri feels sorry for him, because Moon is there with her new girlfriend - so soon, it must hurt Eli so much, and with another girl nonetheless, but that’s cool, right?, because they’re girls and it makes them more interesting. 

Demetri doesn’t need to be a mind reader to know that besides the pain of seeing his ex happy with someone else, Eli’s thinking about what would have happened if they had done the same thing when they were experimenting. 

Faggots and pansies and other slurs he’s not really fond of thinking of, come to mind. 

So he’s sitting beside Hawk on the couch - at a tactful distance - before he can’t think better of it, and screw indecision. 

“You check out the new Doctor Who trailer?” 

“I don’t watch nerd shit.” 

“You know, uh, Moffat isn’t the showrunner anymore,” Demetri continues, because come on, he remembers entire evenings spent debating whether the Impossible Girl plot was actually good or if Clara Oswald was just a Mary Sue - there’s no way Doctor Who won’t hook Eli’s interest. 

And indeed, Eli turns to him and “Wait, really? Since when? Is there a new doctor? What’s he like?” he asks eager, and that half-smile has a warm sliver of hope uncurling in Demetri’s chest. 

“Oh… She’s badass.” 

Demetri smiles because Eli’s eyes widen - Eli’s, not Hawk’s. 

“She? No way.” He’s about to ask more, he knows, maybe who’s the actress, maybe if she has new companions and… 

And then Moon chuckles and Eli’s eyes follow the noise. His face fells, gaze hardening as Moon, totally oblivious, shoves her tongue in her girlfriend's mouth a few feet from her ex-boyfriend. 

Demetri curses her inwardly because he was making progress with his friend, and now they’ve all been swept away with a wet sponge. 

“I’d give up man. She’s moved on,” he tries, but Hawk won’t even look at him, and he can’t very well go back to talking about how awesome is Jodie Whittaker, not when the mood has been ruined. 

“Defeat does not exist.”

“There’s that winning attitude that pushed her away in the first place. I think you need a healthy dose of inner peace” he tries with a hand on his shoulder, tries to connect, to bring back his friend because he has seen him, Eli is still there even if deeply hidden “It’s worked for me.” 

“Oh yeah?” Hawk asks and stands up and Demetri knows he has lost him even before Hawk actually pours the drink over his head, extinguishing the last embers of their friendship. “That’s what I thought. Still a pussy.” 

Parla, la gente purtroppo parla

Non sa di che cosa parla

(Talking, too bad they’re talking,

But they don’t know what they’re talking about) 

Vibrations 

The silence rings in his ears, blood washing out every other noise. Where there was the vibration of the bass, the music playing so loud they had to shout to manage to talk, now there’s only silence. 

Silence and Demetri’s voice talking, but Hawk doesn’t hear it - doesn’t need to anyway, he knows what he’s saying, the actual words he’s using don’t matter. 

It’s dazing, maybe he’s in shock - he can’t really believe Demetri is doing it, really, except he totally can, because what is this but another betrayal? 

Demetri goes on and on, he rambles and Hawk lets him kill him, word after word, spilled secret after spilled secret, bringing back from the death good old Eli - leporine lip and shy eyes, the crying pathetic guy whose mum called school - by grating away the shiny fake plate that is Hawk. 

And then the final blow. 

“Have any of you heard of sleep enuresis?”

People are laughing, Eli can see them, but he can’t hear them, there’s only the thunderous vibration of his heart beating furiously in his chest. 

“Screw mercy. You’re a corpse.” 

Lost

Demetri stops running and almost collapses on the sidewalk as soon as he deems to have put enough of a safe distance between himself and the police sirens that came to crash the party. 

Breathing is almost painful and his heart beats furiously in his chest and his legs ache from the strain so much they feel like jelly. 

It’s the adrenaline, Demetri knows, and that’s the only coherent thought he can manage, as he presses his head between his knees. It’s not a panic attack but it sure feels like one. 

I lost it, he thinks. I lost control. 

He hadn’t intended to go that far when he had asked for the microphone to give a small speech. It was supposed to be a grounding wake up call, something to remember Hawk that he was still Eli deep down, that he had no right to think he was so much better just because now he was a karate pro - and ok, after the humiliation, he had planned to tell him that he still could be a badass while liking Harry Potter, that those were not mutually exclusive, but… but he had lost it. 

It had all stumbled out of his lips, words almost taking a life of its own. 

He hadn’t wanted to go that far, to cross that line, and still… Fuck, he had talked about his enuresis and he knows, if police hadn’t interrupted them, he would have gone for self-destruction next - he would have gone down bringing Hawk with himself, spilling everything about their kisses, how Eli could pretend to be so tough, but if you kissed him along his jaw he would just make those little whimpers and melt under your mouth as you moved down to his neck and… shit. It was bad enough as it was. Demetri should probably thank whoever tipped the police off. 

Now, if only they had done it a little earlier, before he went and talked about the waterbed - damn it, why did he have to do it? 

Demetri was supposed to be better, he was supposed to be the one with the moral ground, because he wasn’t the one going on about showing no mercy as a fucking villain from a superhero movie, and then he went and overkilled it, he was gloating and kicking an already down enemy - it was showing no mercy, he thinks, and there’s a vicious sense of karmic release in thinking ‘see if he likes it, now that he’s the one that gets showed no mercy’, but it lasts only a few seconds before Demetri feels shitty again. 

Tomb 

It’s the last nail hammered in the coffin of their friendship and now Hawk is ready to close the gravestone and seal the tomb. 

It was a foretold funeral, with their fall out, their fight after fight that never got mended and only festered until there wasn’t anything salvageable any more - and yet, for how much he knew nothing would be as before, for how much he didn’t even want it to be as before, it manages to hurt him anyway. 

If he were to allow himself to close his eyes, he would feel tears gather behind his eyelids. As it is, Hawk shakes his head in search of clarity and keeps his eyes widen, forcing back the lump in his throat by sheer will. 

‘Saved by the cop’s sirens’ doesn’t even begin to explain how lucky Demetri had been. How lucky Eli had been because he doesn’t know what he would have done to his no longer best friend, he doesn’t know - and it scares the hell out of him, now that the run and the chill air of the night have sobered him up.

Anger is a switch, it clouds his mind, it digs a hollow in his chest and then fills it with rage and hurt, until it all bubbles over to his throat, to his face, a red mist covering his eyes, a tingling down his spine to his groin, to his legs, to his feet, everything in his body expanding, tearing at his skin until he’s not able to reign himself in anymore and he lashes out - and the more uselessly he lashes out, the more frustration builds up in his guts, like steam in a pressure cooker with a broken valve. 

The more they try to stop him the more he wants to break everything in his wake and it doesn’t matter if he’ll be left broken behind.

Roots 

“Honey, you’re gonna be late,” his mother nudges him and Demetri nods, but still he doesn’t move. 

He’s rooted there, to the passenger seat of his mother’s car, dreading the first day of school as he had never done in all his years of life - first days of school had always meant new things to learn, maybe another weird friend to make, even though in the last years the feeling had shifted to boredom and complaining about not been able to play video games all day long, but still… 

“Demetri? Are you feeling all right?” his mother asks, and that’s his chance. He could pretend to be sick - it wouldn’t even be an outright lie, he feels nauseous, maybe he’s coming down with a cold, or something.

“Yes, mum. I’m ok,” he says instead and forces himself to unfasten his seatbelt and open the car door. 

She doesn’t really look convinced, but she doesn’t insist. If she had, he would have asked her to bring him home. 

Sparks 

It’s free-for-all and Hawk is out for blood, “strike first, strike hard, no mercy" repeating like a mantra in his head as he punches and kicks and throws to the mat anyone who crosses him. 

Then he turns, raises his eyes, and Demetri is there, a little bit shocked by the violence of the fight that has spread through the whole school, just because Tory had a grudge against Sam. 

It takes a second for their eyes to meet, and that’s here, the sparks of recognition that tunnel their whole attention as if suddenly they’re the only one in the school, and then Demetri starts running the same exact instant Hawk launches himself at him. 

Flu

It’s surreal, like a scene out of Battle Royal or another weird anime where high school kids have to fight each other to the death. Except this is his life now. 

Everything has escalated so quickly. 

Demetri hides in the computer room and prays that Eli won’t find him, because Hawk is a deadly machine with no restraint, and incidents happen even if they shouldn’t. 

He’ll just punch me in the face, he thinks. Or he’ll just punch me in the face until I get a concussion, my brain swells and I’ll die. 

Demetri scrambles to hide under a desk as soon as he hears footsteps in the hallway, and closes his eyes - I’m not here, I’m not here, I’m not here - he feels feverish, this must be a flu induced nightmare, except the door of the classroom opens and Hawks comes in and then… 

“Ah, here you are,” Hawk finds him and then he’s clawing at his calf and dragging him out like a monster in a horror b-movie. Demetri tries to find leverage on the linoleum floor and then manages to kick him, hard enough for Hawk to lose his grip. 

He fumbles to his feet and runs for the door, but Hawk has already recovered from the blow and he’s on him like the damn bird of prey he’s using as a namesake. 

Hawk grabs his collar, he drives him against the wall so forcefully the backlash has Demetri hitting his head, not hard enough to do any harm, but enough for the point of impact behind his skull to start throbbing. 

“You fucking asshole!” Eli yells at him, and Demetri’s so close he can see a brush of blood on the corner of his mouth, the darkening of a bruise on his cheek, the tears gathering in his eyes. 

“Why did you have to do it?” Eli shakes him and Demetri’s hands run to his wrists, trying to relent the pressure. 

There are lots of answers to that question, all popping up in Demetri’s mind. 

Because you left me 

and 

because you wanted to change me and when I didn’t you just pushed me away, 

because you got together with Moon 

and then 

because you poured a drink on my head. 

Because you made me feel like I didn’t matter, like I was nothing and like I was nothing to you and I wanted to show how much something I was. 

Eli stills as if he has been slapped and that’s when Demetri realizes he has said it all out loud. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eli looks at him, wearily and Demetri wouldn’t want anything more than take it all back, but before he can say anything, Eli decides he doesn’t need an answer. “Shit, you’re not kidding.” 

Then Eli shoves him against the wall again and Demetri shuts his eyes, steadying himself for the blow.

It hits him like a fist nonetheless, instead it’s only a kiss.

Photograph 

He thought the world would have stopped spinning, the time would have stopped progressing, and everything would be perfect like they made you believe it was in the movies. 

Instead, Eli opened his eyes and Demetri was looking back at him and he was… not impressed. 

“For a first kiss it sucked,” he said and Eli’s shoulders slumped. 

Yes, of course. He knew it was a bad idea. He didn’t think it would all crash down so soon, though. 

“What are we doing wrong?” Demetri pondered. “It was a little too much like kissing my aunt's cheek. Ok, let’s try it sitting on the bed.” 

“You… You wanna do it again?” Eli stammered incredulously. “But it sucked.” 

“Yeah, that was the point, we’re practicing. It’s not supposed to be good the first time, we’re supposed to get better as we go along, we’re learning together” Demetri began explaining like he couldn’t believe he had to, but uncertainty had crept in his voice by the end of it. “Unless… well, unless you don’t wanna do it anymore. That would be ok, by the way. Have you changed your mind?”

“No!” Eli almost shouted. “No, no, it’s fine. It’s… ok, we’ll learn together,” he nodded and got on the bed. 

Demetri followed him, sitting across him, his hand brushing against his arm before he leaned in to kiss him, his breath slowly etching. And if it was still a little bit awkward, still a tad too much artificial, they could learn together, improve each other - maybe it wasn’t supposed to be stilled and perfect as they made you believe in the movies. 

(Still, if Eli could stop time right now, if he could take a photo of this moment and never move forward, he would.) 

Terror 

His first reaction is shock, because of all the things Hawk could do to retaliate against his stunt, kissing him full on the mouth is not what he had expected. 

Then there is anger because how dare him!, after everything that had happened, when all Demetri wanted was being like they were before while Eli kept pushing him away, choosing Cobra Kai, choosing Moon - and now he is the one kissing him desperately like he never thought he could do it again. 

So Demetri grips his neck and kisses back, pushing against him, an attack of sorts, but Eli doesn’t relent, doesn’t take a step back. He opens his mouth and Demetri crashes into him, tongue slipping between his lips. 

It goes on for centuries until they run out of breath and need to part. 

Demetri is left dazed and confused. But when he meets Eli’s eyes, there’s something he wasn’t expecting. Terror. 

Eli takes a step back and Demetri blurts “Why did you kiss me?” before he can run away, but while it stops him from getting away, it doesn’t elicit an answer. He keeps silent, his swollen lips trembling around aborted words. 

“Eli?”

“Don’t call me that!” He snaps and Demetri really couldn’t care less to keep up this charade. 

“Why not? It is your name. But if you want to stick to the asshole front, I’m gonna leave you to it.” 

Eli chooses to not reply to it - and what kind of threat is that even, to leave when Eli was the one ready to bolt through the door just ten seconds earlier. 

“You are something to me, you always were,” he says instead, and doesn’t meet his eye as he mutters it.  

Demetri would like to think this isn’t a lie, but “Then why did you go out with Moon? You didn’t even bother to tell me we were done before moving on her.” 

“We were done?” Eli scoffs, enraged again. “What exactly made you entitled to that? You were the one who kept telling me it was practice, that we were just friends helping each other, that someday some girl would enjoy how good we were becoming and… and now you have the nerve to tell me - what exactly? That you feel something?…” 

“I - I don’t know! Yes!” Demetri yells, but Eli keeps talking unrelentingly. 

“…Or were you just jealous because I found a girlfriend and you didn’t?” 

“If you really think I was jealous for that, you are a bigger dumbass than I already thought.” Demetri shakes his head, and Eli is at his face again, but whether to kiss him or hit him, he doesn’t know and doesn’t find out. 

Before anything can happen, they hear the sirens of an ambulance approaching. 

Grey 

The road to the hospital is a blurred grey fog. 

They had forgotten - too caught in what was happening to them in that dark computer room - that the rest of the school had gone crazy. 

They had run to the entrance, following the noise, arriving just in time to see the first ambulance heading off, running lights and sirens. 

A bunch of paramedics was administering first aid, and right next to the second ambulance there was Sam, sitting on a stretcher as someone was checking her vitals. 

“Are you hurt?” Another paramedic had tried to ask them, but Hawk had dodged with a ‘we’re fine, back off’, and Demetri had followed him through the crowd. 

“What happened?” He had asked, even if he should have probably let Demetri talk, since he and Sam were, if not friends, at least on good terms. 

But Sam had just ignored whatever bad blood could be between her and Eli, overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation. “It’s Miguel,” she had said and afterward everything was just like that - blurred, grey, a fog. 

He doesn’t remember how they got out of school, who drove them, how much time they had to wait before Miguel’s mother went to them and told them Miguel needed surgery and the doctors were preparing him. 

The only thing Eli can remember is Demetri holding his hand. 

Tu portami dove sto a galla

Che qui mi manca l’aria

(Get me where I can keep afloat 

‘cause I can’t breathe here)

Eleven

His mother shakes him awake and he realizes he has fallen asleep and has drooled all over Eli’s shoulder. Not that Eli can complain, since he’s sleeping too. 

How they managed to do it, is a mystery, since the hospital plastic chair is one of the most uncomfortable ever created - and he has his back hurting and his neck muscles stiffened in a weird position to vouch for it. 

“Come on, Demetri,” his mother says, checking in her purse for the car’s keys “visiting hours are well over, it’s time to go home.” 

Demetri nods and tries to rub away the sleep from his eyes, before turning to wake up his… friend. He’s not sure it’s the right term, but it will have to do for now. 

Demetri shakes him, calls his name - ‘Eli’, not Hawk.

“How is he?” is the first thing Eli asks, even though he’s half asleep, suppressing a yawn and taking a second too much to realize he needs to disentangle his arm from around Demetri’s waist. 

“Stable, still unconscious,” his mum reply, without even taking notice, too busy being apologetic, “I know you don’t want to leave your friend, but it’s past eleven, and if we don’t go, a nurse is gonna come to kick us out.” 

Eli nods, somehow more awake than Demetri feels, and stands up, searching for his phone. “Yes, right, I should probably call my parents, too. Ask them if they can come to pick me up.” 

“Oh, there’s no need,” she stops him in his track, “It’s late and I’ve already talked with your parents, Eli, you can stay with us. I know it’s been a while since you guys had a sleepover, but I don’t think it’s good for either of you to be alone tonight, after… well,” she looks around at the hospital hallway and doesn’t finish the sentence. “Anyway, your mother agreed, if it’s fine by you.” 

Demetri holds his breath, waiting for Eli’s reply - somehow way more important than a simple arrangement for the night. 

Eli seems to sense it too because he turns to look at him, and even though Demetri’s pretty sure his face hasn’t changed, he must have seen what he was looking for. 

“Yeah,” Eli says eventually, “yes, it’s fine. Thank you.” 

Basement  

 

It hasn’t been that long since the last time they had huddled in Demetri’s basement, discussing time travels theories and eating popcorn till the wee hours of the morning, falling asleep on each other, with Star Trek reruns streaming on the background. To Eli, it feels like yesterday and like a lifetime ago at the same time. 

Demetri leads him in, as if somehow Eli could have forgotten the way, rambling about how he obviously hasn’t had time to dust the room or some other inanities, fidgeting with his hands and never once meeting his eyes. 

Despite their recent fallout, Eli has known his friend since forever, he knows he’s nervous. 

Then he sees it and it stills him in his track, suddenly hyperaware of himself. Demetri glances at him from the corner of his eyes, as if waiting for him to explode, but Eli is so tired and way past caring he decides he doesn’t give a fuck, so he goes and sits on the edge of the infamous waterbed. 

“You know my mother didn’t really call it your waterbed, right? I mean she did it once, but it wasn’t malicious.” 

“It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t.” 

And no, it isn’t, but somehow everything has been put in perspective by Miguel almost dying. 

Eli sighs, taking his head in his hand, running his fingers through his wet red locks, finally down in the presence of someone for the first time. 

Demetri sits beside him, wearily as if approaching a wild animal, and Eli has never felt more like one. “We both did mistakes,” he says and he places his hand on his shoulder again, mirroring the same conciliatory gesture he did at the party. 

Eli doesn’t have a drink in his hands this time, but if he had, he still wouldn’t have poured it on his head. “I’m still angry at you,” he says anyway. 

“I know, it was horrible what I did to you at the party, but it’s not like you were-” 

“No! Not for the party, that’s not the point!” Eli interrupts him, “We were supposed to be in this together, we were supposed to learn together, wasn’t this the whole point of this friends with benefit crap? We were supposed to make it through high school together, to be… to be there for each other, and then when I found karate you decided that it wasn’t like that anymore and you left me alone.” 

“That’s not… Oh my god, Eli, do you really think… it wasn’t like that!”

“Wasn’t it? Because we could have got strong together instead you decided it wasn’t worth your time. And I didn’t even realize it at first, but you were using me, using Cobra Kai to get popular along with us, and then when you felt left out - and it was all your fault, I wanted you to be part of this! - you wrote that damn review and betrayed us, you betrayed me!”

“I didn’t… it was not like that! What I wrote was true! That… that guy had all of his students being punched in the face as if it was ok! Eli, that place it’s not normal!”

“It was only to lose the fear of being hit! It was meant to help us and to make us stronger!”

“You’re even justifying him, he’s a sexist, macho caveman who still lives in the eighties! And the new teacher is even worse. Life isn’t war, it doesn’t work like this.”

“Oh yeah, really? How does it work then? Like they make you believe in Tumblr? Where sexism is about to be brought down, homophobic people are just a minority that’s gonna be erased, nerd teenagers don’t get bullied no more and no one will throw your friend down the stairs during a stupid fight. Do you really believe it?”

“I’m not saying it’s all sunshine and rainbows, but -”

“Then why didn’t you bring us out at the party, uh? You talked about my enuresis, outing me wouldn’t have been that much worse, but you didn’t, because that would have meant coming out with me.” 

“You might not believe me, but I was about to. I would have told them if the police hadn’t shown up. Well, if police hadn't shown up you probably would have beaten me, so that was not really a problem, but you know how my mouth works when I run it, no filters at all, no survival instinct. If I had them…” 

Eli should not believe him, except he knows Demetri - he has known him for most of their lives - and he knows he’s telling the truth, that Demetri talks back to bullies, he provokes them and enrages them with that cutting tongue he has, even if it’s against his better interest for the bullies beat them harder and crueler after. He knows he couldn’t keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it. 

But it’s a little bit more complicated to actually believe he would have really outed them. 

“You know what it would have meant.” 

“Social suicide,” Demetri nods because he knows. 

“And you know it doesn’t matter, either?” Eli looks at him, his eyes hardening as if Hawk was trying to come back, “It doesn’t matter if I’m a bedwetter or a faggot, because whoever tries to make fun of me I’m gonna punch them in the face.” 

“You can’t punch every problem away.”

“Watch me.”

“Oh, really?” Demetri scoffs because he already did it - he watched him try to punch every problem away, to threaten and hit everything in his path, “And how has that worked out for you? For any of us?” 

He doesn’t say Miguel’s name, he doesn’t need to. 

"You’ve become the people we hated,” Demetri says, at last, sorrow in his voice. 

“No, I’ve become the people we envied. We wanted to be them.”

“We wanted to be popular, not to be jerks. Not to be bullies.” 

“And how do you think someone like me could ever become popular if not by fighting? If not by making them afraid of me.”

“God, Eli, you sound like a villain from a bad sci-fi movie. I never wanted us to be popular if that was the price to pay.” 

Eli shakes his head, a bitter smirk on his face, “Well, careful what you wish for, then. You can’t have everything, Demetri. That’s the equivalent exchange rule.” 

At that Demetri laughs. 

“What?” 

“My god, Eli, you put up your cool façade and then you quote me Fullmetal Alchemist?” 

“Fullmetal Alchemist is amazing.”

“I know! That’s the point! We’re not really living in a tv show, you can be this… karate superhero and still be my…” Demetri trails, not knowing how to end his sentence, because it’s much more complicated, what they were and are. 

“Friend?” Eli supplies and Demetri nods even if it’s not quite right. 

“Yeah, friend.” 

“But like this, I’m not enough for you. And I wasn’t even before.” 

“That’s bullshit. You were the one who wanted to try karate, I was perfectly content with the status quo, with us being… us.” 

“But you could do it though, couldn’t you? You could do karate in Miyagi-do, but not for me, not in Cobra Kai.” 

“No, not in your dojo, I couldn’t. But if you really think even for a second, that it wasn’t completely about you…”

“Yeah, about me.” 

“It was to make a point. To you. To show you I could -“

“You rated me just one shitty star. And then you went to show me how I should have done it, right?” 

“No, for fuck sake. You are not Cobra Kai, that review was not about you, Eli! Not that. Everything else is in my fucking life is, but that… Look, Eli, karate is… should be a sport. You’ve all made this into… Mortal Kombat!” 

“Have you not been bullied alongside me?”

“Yes, but - 

“Samantha LaRusso can afford to meditate and shit, she was popular before, she got nothing to prove -”

"Neither do you, You never had.” 

“Bullshit! I don’t have my backpack thrown in the trash anymore!” 

“Yeah, okay,” Demetri trembles from pain and rage, frantic jerks of his hands as he speaks, “It’s really great that you don’t take shit anymore. It shouldn’t mean you can start hurting people around you.” 

“I was the one hurting first!” Eli yells. 

“And then you leashed back ten times harder!” Demetri yells back and Eli can see tears in his eyes. It’s odd, how he wanted to make him hurt just a day before and now he’s back to the same feeling, to his heart aching at the mere hint of seeing him crying, and this time is even worse because it’s not just frustration at to not be able to help him - this time his tears are all Eli’s fault. 

And then Demetri finally hits him, his words harder than any fist could be. 

“Do you even know how hard it is to be chased by the only person I love?”

Eli staggers, he forgets how to breathe for a second, but Demetri goes on anyway. 

“I’m telling the truth when I say you never had to prove anything. I loved you before all this, I loved you with the leporine lip and the enuresis and the crying. I might have criticized your dojo, I might have not liked who you were becoming, but I still was right beside you, and even when you didn’t want me there I still wanted to be right beside you.”

“I-”

It’s true. 

It’s all true. 

Even if Cobra Kai was just a shitty star in a Yelp review, Demetri still wanted to be his friend. Not because of how popular he was now, but despite it. 

It shouldn’t have escalated like that.

Not their relationship, not the rivalry between the dojos, not the fight at school. 

It was too much, and Eli had walked himself in a corner. 

“I don’t know what the fuck I should do anymore, Demetri,” he says, not brave enough to look him in the eyes. 

“Right now? We go to sleep,” Demetri wipes his eyes, “and tomorrow we deal with everything else, with apologies and hurt feelings and… and the kisses. Tomorrow, ok?” 

Demetri makes to stand up and leave but Eli grips his wrist and anchors him there. 

He’s still not looking at him, head down, and right now, in his borrowed pajamas with his eyes hidden by a curtain of wet hair, he looks so raw and vulnerable and fragile. 

“Please, stay,” he pleads, “I’m sorry.” 

Demetri should shake off his grip and walk to his own bed, he should tell him that’s not how it works, that he just confessed feelings - love, even if which kind of love Demetri himself doesn’t know - and they should keep their distances until they don’t sort this out. 

But the grip on his wrists tightens, imperceptibly, before letting him go, instead of pulling him back. 

So Demetri decides to screw it, they’re hurting and their friend is in a fucking hospital bed and this can’t get any worse. 

“Ok,” he says, then he turns and lifts the blankets on Eli’s bed, sliding inside. 

Eli snaps his head up, his blue eyes wide in surprise, and just looks at him. 

“Aren’t you coming?” Demetri shifts to make room for him and he gets up to turn off the lights before silently climbing into the bed. 

They lay still, side by side, silence buzzing in their ears until it feels like it’s pressing down on them so hard their head will explode, until Eli doesn’t have to talk because his thoughts in his head are too much. 

“I didn’t even realize it was getting that bad.” 

“I know. Neither did I, until… well, you know.” The mall, Hawk running after him to hit him and hurt him. 

“I shouldn’t have lost control, I shouldn’t have let it go out of hands.” 

“Yes, but it wasn’t only you. We all let this get out of our hands, ok. Like, look at the fight today. Tory might have been the one to start it, but there were a thousand other solutions that didn’t involve the whole school getting into a brawl. We were all so ready to pick up the fight…” 

“You weren’t. You ran away.” 

“Yeah, I did. I’ve always been a coward.”

“But you are not in a hospital bed.”

“No, I’m not.” 

They lie in silence again, because there’s nothing more to say. They don’t know who moved first, maybe they met in the middle, but their hands brush against each other, and then their fingers intertwine until they’re holding hands and Demetri shifts slightly until their shoulders are touching, and Eli turns until his head his resting on his shoulder. 

“What if he dies?” He asks eventually when he finds the words and his voice doesn’t tremble too much, “what if karate killed him?” 

“He‘ll be fine,” Demetri assures him, squeezing his hand. 

“How can you be so sure? Nothing has ever been fine.” 

“This will be. It has to.” 

Tu portami dove sto a galla

Che qui mi manca l’aria

(Get me where I can keep afloat 

‘cause I can’t breathe here)