[There's a moment's pause and a light frown, as he thinks about it.]
I... suppose I feel bad about the ones I killed without meaning to.
[The few he killed intentionally had it coming, as far as he's concerned.]
Hardly knew them, though.
[He gets nightmares sometimes, about the people he killed when he was very small and barely comprehended it. But they're mostly just phantom feelings -- screams and blood and broken flesh.]
[He nods absently at that, wondering how much to believe it. Same guy who lets a plane crash full of people in the future, same guy he's seen take lives before. But right now, he wants to insist he feels bad? Fine.]
Well, you're just in luck... You're in the one place you're being offered penance for all those dirty little sins you'll feel bad about.
[He shrugs as he returns to cleaning, working his way from Homelander's chest to his stomach.]
[Well, he said he felt bad, not that he felt guilty. He's not some dumb little Catholic boy looking for a cross to nail himself to. That's just pathetic.
He has no interest in penance, especially when it comes in the form of torture rooms narrated by smarmy assholes.
He open his mouth to try and offer a rebuttal, but instead he clamps it shuts again after a dab to his stomach prompts a small flinch and an aborted sound. It's getting harder to concentrate the farther down Billy goes; his breath is growing shallower, skin feeling heated and not just from the constant irritation.
It's not that this is enjoyable, exactly, but it's... something.]
Although can't imagine why you'd want to impress that old cunt up there. How's he any better when he's letting wee little kiddies die of cancer, turning a blind eye to all the abuse and rape and murder going all around. Sadistic, voyeuristic cunt, if you ask me.
[God's a fucking joke, if there really is one up there.
And if Butcher noticed the twitches, he doesn't seem to pay them any mind as he dabs each of these impressive little cuts clean, wiping away blood. Maybe he just doesn't care. Weird thing to get turned on about, but-- lad's young enough and formerly sheltered away from the shite that'd be bad for his image enough, it's not that surprising either.
He nudges at one of Homelander's knees to get him to part them a bit wider so he can get at his legs.]
[A blush is starting to burn up his cheeks as he parts his legs wider. He's not sure what it is his body is reacting to: the prolonged touch, being paid close attention to, this whole weird sinning talk, or being nearly naked around Billy. Either way, it's a little uncomfortable, especially since his underwear is too tight to hide much.]
...Yeah.
[Both to needing a shower and to God being a cunt. If he exists, then he's the one who made them what they are, isn't he? It doesn't give him much of a moral high ground to pass judgment from.]
What's yours look like? [He flinches.] I mean--your list.
[There's an arched eyebrow at Homelander's question at first, a tease on the tip of his tongue. At his current position and where he is? There's no way in fucking hell he couldn't see how hard Homelander is starting to get.
If Billy were a decent man, he wouldn't throw the cotton ball in the trash and move his hands to Homelander's thighs, careful of those cuts as he can be as he looks up.]
You can see it later. [Lots of murder and lying and-- shit he doesn't really care if Homelander sees or not. Nothing that will traumatize the lad too much, he'd think. But really, it's mostly that he's a bit distracted now.]
But Billy isn't exactly a hard lay to get, even if he knows full and well he should be thinking twice here. His hands graze a little higher on Homelander's thighs as he tips his head, meeting his eyes.]
Sounds like a good idea... But you're still a wee bit overdressed for that...
[Homelander lets out a breath, feeling a pang of disappointment when Billy releases his hold on him.
But then he's up on his feet, eager to comply as soon as he's given an assignment. He steps into the shower and turns the tap on, staying out of the stream as he watches Billy undress.
It's not like he hasn't seen his housemate without his clothes before; Billy sleeps in the nude, and the walls can get awfully thin when you've got X-ray vision. But this is... different. Special. Something he's been invited into.
...Fuck.
He keeps the briefs on, even if it means getting them wet. He's not trying to be difficult, it's just that--Billy should get to do the honors.]
[... If he knew that little perv was watching him through the walls, there'd probably be a crowbar upside his head instead. Not that Billy cares if Homelander sees his cock when he's stumbling out of his room and heading for the bathroom, but there's a slight difference.
But right now, he's shedding his clothes without hesitation. The shirt's tossed in the hamper, the rest follows until he's standing there in all his glory, scars and all - maybe just a little hard, himself. This is exciting in a really fucked up way.]
Really, John? [He shakes his head as he steps into the shower and reaches down to hook a finger in the waistband of his briefs -- before giving the elastic a little snap.]
Shy? [Whether he is or not, Billy's shoving at the now wet fabric.]
[Shy might not be the exact word, but for all that he's made for public consumption, this part of him has always meant to be concealed. He gives a bashful, slightly crooked grin at the teasing, the tension in his body evident as Billy pushes his underwear down, making his cock bounce against his stomach before standing at full attention.]
You like it?
[He tries to push his well-polished cockiness to the forefront, but the waver of uncertainty behind it is easy to hear. All of his physical attributes are supposed to approximate human perfection... but there's no accounting for taste, and he's never gotten the impression that perfection is quite Billy's thing.]
[He almost wants to point out he's seen it before -- and maybe add in a jab or two about how underwhelming it is, how that spandex must be pretty fucking padded. But he'll save the belittling for later, he supposes. Homelander's tense enough as it is.]
Never had complaints about it before. [He's crowding in to Homelander's space, eyes darting down between them to give a shameless look over. His hands slide to Homelander's hips then, stroking over his skin soothingly.
... At least the cuts didn't get anywhere too sensitive from the looks of it. They can still have a little fun.]
Now I'm curious... [His hand slides forward to rest at the top of Homelander's thigh, avoiding brushing his cock.]
[Oh... right. He's almost forgotten that this isn't a first for Billy. That he's already been with a different version of him.
There's no reason for that to bother him... but his shoulders slump a little all the same.
The hands at his hips help distract him, the sensation soothingly pleasant. His head tips forward towards Billy, his gaze drifting down to his abdomen, lips parting in a shallow breath.]
No.
[His voice is quiet and a little hoarse, like he's admitting to a deficiency.]
...Not like that.
[He's undergone inspections, obviously. But that's hardly the same thing, or the sort of memory he wants to bring to the surface.]
... That sort of lets Butcher know right then and there this isn't going to last long. Although maybe there's a thrill that he's the first hand he's gonna have on him. Something he can hold over Homelander's head for a long time, maybe.]
Well, don't worry. I'll make sure this is memorable for you, lad.
[He lowers his voice as he lifts one hand to tilt Homelander's face towards his. Traces his thumb along his lower lip.]
Saw lust on your list. Who've you been thinking about when you're all alone?
[There's no chance of this not being memorable, honestly. It's far from how he'd imagined his first time might go -- Vought would never have approved of a man like Billy, or any man for that matter -- but that's what makes it so special.
It's his choice.
His eyes draw half-closed at the touch, gaze falling to Billy's wrist. He parts his lips to invite the thumb in, giving it a small, exploratory lick, before looking up to meet Billy's gaze, almost shyly.]
You.
[It used to be Madelyn who monopolized his daydreams, but it's been months since he last saw her. And she'd probably want to wash her hands off him, given how badly he mishandled his first mission.]
[There's a noise acknowledging that as he presses his thumb past those welcoming lips. Him. Maybe there's something to be said about cultivating that, keeping Homelander wrapped around him, so to speak.
Or maybe Butcher just gets off on the confession alone.
Either way, Homelander doesn't get to keep his thumb for long before he's moving in to claim him in a rough, hungry kiss, crowding into his space even further.]
What do you think about? [He murmurs against his lips.] Now's a good time to fulfill those little fantasies, John.
[He yields eagerly to the kiss and the scratch of the beard, only pushing back a little against Billy's tongue, a muffled moan slipping out at the intensity of it. He steps even closer, until they're pressed up against each other, his erection hot and needy against Billy's thigh.
What does he think about? Well, it's hard to narrow it down. It ranges from the tame -- kissing and touching and undressing and kissing some more -- to the highly unsuitable for family viewing: Billy's rough hand on his cock; that teasing, heavily accented voice telling him what to do, making him beg; being shoved to his knees or bent over, held down--
It's bad enough that he keeps thinking it, but admitting any of it to Billy?
[He's not expecting Homelander to be brilliant at kissing, or any of this really. But the press of a warm body against his and the way he meets the kiss without any hesitation, responds to it even, are both pretty fucking nice. His hands slide around to grope at Homelander's arse, hitching him closer.
It's not like he doesn't have an idea of what the other Homelander enjoys, or that this one might like the same things. He's pretty sure he can work his way around all this.
He flashes a grin in return, looking down at Homelander with half-lidded eyes.]
Confidential, eh? So-- you expect me to just feel me way around, huh?
[He doesn't seem to be really complaining if his wandering hands are anything to go by. He's just avoiding the rather pressing problem up against his thigh as he leans in for another kiss, backs Homelander back towards the shower wall.]
[Billy grabbing his ass prompts a soft grunt of approval, making him grind his hips against the other man as a show of appreciation.
He flinches a bit as he backs up, first at the water stinging at his cuts, then at the chill of the wall. Not that any of it deters him in the least. Soon he's pressing his mouth to Billy's shoulder in a wet kiss -- even giving him a little nip.]
I thought you were supposed to be the expert here.
[It's a light taunt, accompanied by a sharp little grin.
C'mon, Billy shouldn't have to feel around too much to find the target here. It's rubbing right against him.]
[There's a chuckle at the taunt. Cute of him to try, even when he's the one grinding against his him, pressing his lips over his skin.
There's a sigh though, something pleasant passing his lips. This may be fucked, but-- maybe a part of him has missed this in a strange way. Homelander may be just a lad right now, but all the important bits seem to be there.
Like the one he wraps his hand around after a moment, his free hand sliding up to tangle through Homelander's hair and yank him up into a kiss.]
I know what you like, sure. Made you come apart for me often enough...
[Ohhh fuck. Billy clearly does know what he's doing. Homelander goes rigid at the words and at the touch, and a cut-off moan slips out of his throat only to be captured by Billy's mouth. It's like he's engulfed by flame, but on the inside of his skin.
It must be impossible to be as hard as he is, and Billy's hand is like a finger squeezing a trigger.
He's lucky he doesn't come on the spot.]
...Show me. [After a shallow breath, he tacks on a hoarse, quiet:] Please.
[There's something-- hot about this. The way Homelander goes awkward, like he's not quite sure what to actually do, the way he seems to trust Billy knowing just what to do to make him come apart.
One would be mad to think there's not a part of Butcher wanting to absolutely take advantage of that, see how far he can take it and twist it, until this young and fresh lad can't think of anyone else.
For right now, he'll settle for jerking him off in a shower though. He strokes him slow and firm, lets his thumb play over the head of his cock as he trails from his mouth. Teeth nip along Homelander's jaw before his lips move to his neck.]
[There have been fleeting moments when Homelander wondered whether he should trust a complete stranger, especially one with a lack of love for supes and a grudge against Vought -- his makers, his future.
This isn't one of those moments.
Right now, only him and Billy exist in the world, and he couldn't give less of a fuck about anything or anyone else. Vought and its all-seeing eye included.
He holds his hands flat against the wall, afraid of what he might do with them; his breath turns panting, stomach taut, jaw straining as he futilely tries to hold back the small whines and groans that keep breaking out of his throat.
A hot shiver runs through him, cock to toes, at that mercilessly light rub of Billy's thumb.]
Oh--oh--fuck--sorry--
[His voice cracks, the back of his head thumping back against the wall and denting the panel as he comes in Billy's fist, in just a few hot, rough spurts.]
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I... suppose I feel bad about the ones I killed without meaning to.
[The few he killed intentionally had it coming, as far as he's concerned.]
Hardly knew them, though.
[He gets nightmares sometimes, about the people he killed when he was very small and barely comprehended it. But they're mostly just phantom feelings -- screams and blood and broken flesh.]
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Well, you're just in luck... You're in the one place you're being offered penance for all those dirty little sins you'll feel bad about.
[He shrugs as he returns to cleaning, working his way from Homelander's chest to his stomach.]
Old and new.
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He has no interest in penance, especially when it comes in the form of torture rooms narrated by smarmy assholes.
He open his mouth to try and offer a rebuttal, but instead he clamps it shuts again after a dab to his stomach prompts a small flinch and an aborted sound. It's getting harder to concentrate the farther down Billy goes; his breath is growing shallower, skin feeling heated and not just from the constant irritation.
It's not that this is enjoyable, exactly, but it's... something.]
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[God's a fucking joke, if there really is one up there.
And if Butcher noticed the twitches, he doesn't seem to pay them any mind as he dabs each of these impressive little cuts clean, wiping away blood. Maybe he just doesn't care. Weird thing to get turned on about, but-- lad's young enough and formerly sheltered away from the shite that'd be bad for his image enough, it's not that surprising either.
He nudges at one of Homelander's knees to get him to part them a bit wider so he can get at his legs.]
Think you'll need a shower after this, mate.
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...Yeah.
[Both to needing a shower and to God being a cunt. If he exists, then he's the one who made them what they are, isn't he? It doesn't give him much of a moral high ground to pass judgment from.]
What's yours look like? [He flinches.] I mean--your list.
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If Billy were a decent man, he wouldn't throw the cotton ball in the trash and move his hands to Homelander's thighs, careful of those cuts as he can be as he looks up.]
You can see it later. [Lots of murder and lying and-- shit he doesn't really care if Homelander sees or not. Nothing that will traumatize the lad too much, he'd think. But really, it's mostly that he's a bit distracted now.]
I need to check you out anywhere else, lad?
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[His blush deepens, heartbeat thundering in his ears. That's not an innocent question, is it? There's no way Billy isn't doing this on purpose.
He swallows, feeling entrapped by that gaze. His indecision only lasts a few moments.]
I--guess it can't hurt to be thorough.
Maybe... in the shower?
[Smooth. Fucking. Operator.]
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But Billy isn't exactly a hard lay to get, even if he knows full and well he should be thinking twice here. His hands graze a little higher on Homelander's thighs as he tips his head, meeting his eyes.]
Sounds like a good idea... But you're still a wee bit overdressed for that...
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He's feeling pretty fucking exposed, here.]
You plan to shower fully clothed?
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Never said that, did I? That eager to see me outta me clothes, huh?
[He reaches up to start working at a couple buttons on his shirt before giving Homelander a look.]
Why don't you get the water started for us, huh?
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But then he's up on his feet, eager to comply as soon as he's given an assignment. He steps into the shower and turns the tap on, staying out of the stream as he watches Billy undress.
It's not like he hasn't seen his housemate without his clothes before; Billy sleeps in the nude, and the walls can get awfully thin when you've got X-ray vision. But this is... different. Special. Something he's been invited into.
...Fuck.
He keeps the briefs on, even if it means getting them wet. He's not trying to be difficult, it's just that--Billy should get to do the honors.]
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But right now, he's shedding his clothes without hesitation. The shirt's tossed in the hamper, the rest follows until he's standing there in all his glory, scars and all - maybe just a little hard, himself. This is exciting in a really fucked up way.]
Really, John? [He shakes his head as he steps into the shower and reaches down to hook a finger in the waistband of his briefs -- before giving the elastic a little snap.]
Shy? [Whether he is or not, Billy's shoving at the now wet fabric.]
C'mon, let's see.
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You like it?
[He tries to push his well-polished cockiness to the forefront, but the waver of uncertainty behind it is easy to hear. All of his physical attributes are supposed to approximate human perfection... but there's no accounting for taste, and he's never gotten the impression that perfection is quite Billy's thing.]
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Never had complaints about it before. [He's crowding in to Homelander's space, eyes darting down between them to give a shameless look over. His hands slide to Homelander's hips then, stroking over his skin soothingly.
... At least the cuts didn't get anywhere too sensitive from the looks of it. They can still have a little fun.]
Now I'm curious... [His hand slides forward to rest at the top of Homelander's thigh, avoiding brushing his cock.]
Has anyone else touched you yet?
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There's no reason for that to bother him... but his shoulders slump a little all the same.
The hands at his hips help distract him, the sensation soothingly pleasant. His head tips forward towards Billy, his gaze drifting down to his abdomen, lips parting in a shallow breath.]
No.
[His voice is quiet and a little hoarse, like he's admitting to a deficiency.]
...Not like that.
[He's undergone inspections, obviously. But that's hardly the same thing, or the sort of memory he wants to bring to the surface.]
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... That sort of lets Butcher know right then and there this isn't going to last long. Although maybe there's a thrill that he's the first hand he's gonna have on him. Something he can hold over Homelander's head for a long time, maybe.]
Well, don't worry. I'll make sure this is memorable for you, lad.
[He lowers his voice as he lifts one hand to tilt Homelander's face towards his. Traces his thumb along his lower lip.]
Saw lust on your list. Who've you been thinking about when you're all alone?
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It's his choice.
His eyes draw half-closed at the touch, gaze falling to Billy's wrist. He parts his lips to invite the thumb in, giving it a small, exploratory lick, before looking up to meet Billy's gaze, almost shyly.]
You.
[It used to be Madelyn who monopolized his daydreams, but it's been months since he last saw her. And she'd probably want to wash her hands off him, given how badly he mishandled his first mission.]
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Or maybe Butcher just gets off on the confession alone.
Either way, Homelander doesn't get to keep his thumb for long before he's moving in to claim him in a rough, hungry kiss, crowding into his space even further.]
What do you think about? [He murmurs against his lips.] Now's a good time to fulfill those little fantasies, John.
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What does he think about? Well, it's hard to narrow it down. It ranges from the tame -- kissing and touching and undressing and kissing some more -- to the highly unsuitable for family viewing: Billy's rough hand on his cock; that teasing, heavily accented voice telling him what to do, making him beg; being shoved to his knees or bent over, held down--
It's bad enough that he keeps thinking it, but admitting any of it to Billy?
Nooo fucking way.
He chances a small grin instead.]
That's confidential information.
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It's not like he doesn't have an idea of what the other Homelander enjoys, or that this one might like the same things. He's pretty sure he can work his way around all this.
He flashes a grin in return, looking down at Homelander with half-lidded eyes.]
Confidential, eh? So-- you expect me to just feel me way around, huh?
[He doesn't seem to be really complaining if his wandering hands are anything to go by. He's just avoiding the rather pressing problem up against his thigh as he leans in for another kiss, backs Homelander back towards the shower wall.]
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He flinches a bit as he backs up, first at the water stinging at his cuts, then at the chill of the wall. Not that any of it deters him in the least. Soon he's pressing his mouth to Billy's shoulder in a wet kiss -- even giving him a little nip.]
I thought you were supposed to be the expert here.
[It's a light taunt, accompanied by a sharp little grin.
C'mon, Billy shouldn't have to feel around too much to find the target here. It's rubbing right against him.]
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There's a sigh though, something pleasant passing his lips. This may be fucked, but-- maybe a part of him has missed this in a strange way. Homelander may be just a lad right now, but all the important bits seem to be there.
Like the one he wraps his hand around after a moment, his free hand sliding up to tangle through Homelander's hair and yank him up into a kiss.]
I know what you like, sure. Made you come apart for me often enough...
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It must be impossible to be as hard as he is, and Billy's hand is like a finger squeezing a trigger.
He's lucky he doesn't come on the spot.]
...Show me. [After a shallow breath, he tacks on a hoarse, quiet:] Please.
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One would be mad to think there's not a part of Butcher wanting to absolutely take advantage of that, see how far he can take it and twist it, until this young and fresh lad can't think of anyone else.
For right now, he'll settle for jerking him off in a shower though. He strokes him slow and firm, lets his thumb play over the head of his cock as he trails from his mouth. Teeth nip along Homelander's jaw before his lips move to his neck.]
I will. Let me take care of it, lad.
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This isn't one of those moments.
Right now, only him and Billy exist in the world, and he couldn't give less of a fuck about anything or anyone else. Vought and its all-seeing eye included.
He holds his hands flat against the wall, afraid of what he might do with them; his breath turns panting, stomach taut, jaw straining as he futilely tries to hold back the small whines and groans that keep breaking out of his throat.
A hot shiver runs through him, cock to toes, at that mercilessly light rub of Billy's thumb.]
Oh--oh--fuck--sorry--
[His voice cracks, the back of his head thumping back against the wall and denting the panel as he comes in Billy's fist, in just a few hot, rough spurts.]
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