[Well, so much for exercising self-control. With Billy this close -- every breath filling his nostrils with that strong, undeniable scent -- it's fucking impossible to keep his hands to himself. At they kiss, his hands move to Billy's waist, holding on to him a little too firmly -- a hoarse, needy sound jamming in his throat at the bite.]
No. I--I don't want anyone else.
[He didn't come here looking to fuck, really. He didn't have much of an objective in mind. He was just... bored. Tired of the same-old-routine, of being expected to behave himself.
[The firm grasp his him grunting out. Much as he might not mind a mark or two, he hasn't quite forgotten he's dealing with a supe here. Last fucking thing he wants is anything broken because Homelander can't control himself.]
Loosen up, love. [He murmurs, giving him a push back towards the bed.]
[Loosen up isn't really on the menu at the moment, but he does at least loosen his grip to avoid damaging Billy, dropping his hands to his sides as he drops down to sit on the side of the bed.]
I, uh--
Tell me what to do and I'll do it.
[Whatever it is. He's almost too fucking eager to prove himself.]
[There's a grin that comes to his lips as he takes a step back, idly looking around the room. There's always extras in these places, yeah? Some fun odds and ends, something to spice things up.]</small.
Be a good lad and close your eyes after. Got a wee surprise for you.
[It's all too easy to follow those instructions. He sheds his shirt, unbuttons, unzips, and manages to actually tear his jeans in his eagerness to get them off. At least his briefs make it off intact. He gets down on his knees, back straight and cock standing at attention, obviously relieved to be released from its containment.
He shoots Billy a quick tentative look before doing as he's told and shutting his eyes, mindlessly licking his lips as his heart thrums in nervous excitement.]
[Oh, there's an approving noise when Homelander so easily obliges that demand, knelt naked for him on the floor. He gathers a few items up and puts them close enough.]
You look good like this, John. If you wanted to go have a little fun, you know-- all you had to do was say. I'd have taken you.
[He steps close enough to let his fingertips brush along Homelander's jaw, dip down his neck.]
[It's fucking intoxicating, being this exposed in Billy's presence, knowing he's being watched and appraised and... wanted?
A blush warms the tips of his ears, his lips parted with breath coming in hot and shallow. He doesn't know why he didn't ask Billy to bring him here -- was he worried he'd say no? Trying to prove he could be independent, a grown-up man?
It doesn't fucking matter now, anyway. He moves, without conscious thought, towards the touch of Billy's fingers, wanting to drink it in -- and then his mouth twitches incredulously at the suggestion, and he nearly blinks his eyes open.]
[Well, that's a fucking insult to the likes of Terror, who would never wander off without Butcher's approval, innit?]
Not like a dog, love.
[His fingers trace over his skin lightly, nothing vicious about it yet.]
More like a wee little reminder that you're fucking well claimed and I've no intention of letting you go, no matter who you fuck on the side.
[It's a bit fucked up. He knows it is. This man helped ruin his life, whether he remembers it or not. Somewhere along the way, hatred and anger got all twisted up into-- whatever they've got not.
But Billy has lost everything else in his life so far and he's not inclined to let this one last thing wander off, no matter how demented of a cunt it makes him, how many more sins it'll jam on to his list.]
It shoots right into his heart and stomach, burrowing deep inside him like a parasite. He can't tell if it's a threat or a promise, and that makes it all the weightier. He thinks he'd like it to be both.
His throat moves as he swallows, before jerking his head in a short nod.]
Okay.
[The word sounds dry and muted, as if spoken by someone outside him, but it's not because he doesn't mean it. He just... never got the sense anyone actually wanted to claim him, outside of the few useful tricks he can do.]
[It's both, more of one or the other depending on his mood and the day and how fucking frustrating John decides to be. Right now, his irritation is accented with the aphrodisiacs in the air, making this need coil deep in his gut that makes him want to take as much of Homelander as he possibly can.
At least he doesn't have a knife back out, right? His arse is safe from more signatures for now.
But there is a rather sturdy collar slipped around his neck after a bit. There's a quiet chuckle as he gives it a bit of a tug, testing. Something simple, black leather. Maybe he'll get him something a little more personal later on.]
[Well, he can open his eyes, sure, but that doesn't really help him see what the collar looks like. He thinks he likes the feel of it, at least, and he definitely liked the feeling of Billy putting it on him.]
Does it look good on me?
[He tries to flash a cocky smile, but it wavers with how flushed and off-center he's feeling.]
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No. I--I don't want anyone else.
[He didn't come here looking to fuck, really. He didn't have much of an objective in mind. He was just... bored. Tired of the same-old-routine, of being expected to behave himself.
Tired of the fucking dreams, too.]
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Loosen up, love. [He murmurs, giving him a push back towards the bed.]
Well, that's sweet, innit? [Doesn't want anyone else, huh?]
How are you willing to prove it?
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I, uh--
Tell me what to do and I'll do it.
[Whatever it is. He's almost too fucking eager to prove himself.]
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[There's a grin that comes to his lips as he takes a step back, idly looking around the room. There's always extras in these places, yeah? Some fun odds and ends, something to spice things up.]</small. Be a good lad and close your eyes after. Got a wee surprise for you.
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He shoots Billy a quick tentative look before doing as he's told and shutting his eyes, mindlessly licking his lips as his heart thrums in nervous excitement.]
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You look good like this, John. If you wanted to go have a little fun, you know-- all you had to do was say. I'd have taken you.
[He steps close enough to let his fingertips brush along Homelander's jaw, dip down his neck.]
Maybe what you need is a collar, yeah?
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A blush warms the tips of his ears, his lips parted with breath coming in hot and shallow. He doesn't know why he didn't ask Billy to bring him here -- was he worried he'd say no? Trying to prove he could be independent, a grown-up man?
It doesn't fucking matter now, anyway. He moves, without conscious thought, towards the touch of Billy's fingers, wanting to drink it in -- and then his mouth twitches incredulously at the suggestion, and he nearly blinks his eyes open.]
Like--like a dog?
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Not like a dog, love.
[His fingers trace over his skin lightly, nothing vicious about it yet.]
More like a wee little reminder that you're fucking well claimed and I've no intention of letting you go, no matter who you fuck on the side.
[It's a bit fucked up. He knows it is. This man helped ruin his life, whether he remembers it or not. Somewhere along the way, hatred and anger got all twisted up into-- whatever they've got not.
But Billy has lost everything else in his life so far and he's not inclined to let this one last thing wander off, no matter how demented of a cunt it makes him, how many more sins it'll jam on to his list.]
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It shoots right into his heart and stomach, burrowing deep inside him like a parasite. He can't tell if it's a threat or a promise, and that makes it all the weightier. He thinks he'd like it to be both.
His throat moves as he swallows, before jerking his head in a short nod.]
Okay.
[The word sounds dry and muted, as if spoken by someone outside him, but it's not because he doesn't mean it. He just... never got the sense anyone actually wanted to claim him, outside of the few useful tricks he can do.]
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At least he doesn't have a knife back out, right? His arse is safe from more signatures for now.
But there is a rather sturdy collar slipped around his neck after a bit. There's a quiet chuckle as he gives it a bit of a tug, testing. Something simple, black leather. Maybe he'll get him something a little more personal later on.]
You can look, John.
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Does it look good on me?
[He tries to flash a cocky smile, but it wavers with how flushed and off-center he's feeling.]
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[He reassures as he takes a step in close, tangles his fingers through the other's hair. Fingertips rub against his scalp.]
But I'm not certain you've learned your lesson, lad.
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Then teach me.
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[He huffs out a chuckle.]
Don't want you crying to tap out after we start...