... 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.]
[Should he trust Butcher? Maybe, maybe not. It's a-- complicated situation and Butcher's feelings are twisted on the matter. This bloke helped to ruin his life, but-- somewhere along the way, Homelander's become something he considers firmly his... even this wee lad coming in his hand after they just barely got started.
His.
One thing is for certain -- no one is going to kill him unless it's Butcher. Or maybe they'll just kill each other. He thinks he'd be just fine with that, oddly enough.
Just not right now. Lips curl up in half a sneer.]
Huh. Well, well. You weren't pulling me leg about being new at this, were you, love?
[He pulls away enough to let some of the water wash the cum off his hand and anywhere else it splattered.]
[You know-- he'd expected defensiveness or maybe anger at being called out. He didn't expect Homelander to act like a kicked puppy, or that sorry, sir. That's--
He doesn't like that, surprisingly. Maybe he would under other circumstances, but here, it just feels bloody awkward.
He shushes him quietly, tips Homelander's head back to kiss him. Hopefully that shuts him up before any real waterworks start.]
Stop the fucking apologies. Like you're the only lad to spill his load the first time someone grabs his cock.
[He doesn't have a clue how long he's meant to last the first time, but he can tell when a performance is lackluster. Still, the kiss loosens the strain from his shoulders, making him breathe a little easier.
[He shifts up a little bit to nip at Homelander's earlobe before he speaks quietly in his ear.]
Maybe I won't let you come until I'm done with you next time... until you can't stand it. [Give him a whole new reason to cry... maybe see if he can get a please, sir next.]
[Saliva builds thick in his throat, goosebumps running down his back. His barely caught breath grows heavier, and even though he's just come, there's still a painful twitch in his cock at that--promise?]
[Jesus, this guy needs to work on his lines, just a little bit. HE shakes his head, lips curling up in a wry smile before he reaches up to go through his hair-- giving it a bit of a tug.]
Mm.
[He chuckles quietly before stepping back and looking Homelander over. At least the blood's washed off by now, and any evidence of what they just did.]
Maybe you can come to bed with me tonight.
[He hasn't exactly invited Homelander back, young as he is, but-- what's the fucking point in pretending he's any sort of saint now? Never suited him, and Homelander is-- still fucking Homelander, just not with quite the same sins to his name yet.]
[The kiss catches him off guard -- mostly because they don't generally kiss like that. Not soft and sweet, and he can't remember the last time Homelander's ever smiled quite like that.
At least in a way that feels like maybe it's actually genuine.
It's weird as fuck-- enough that Butcher isn't sure if he should scoff and tell him to knock it off or just... nudge Homelander lightly before he reaches for the knobs to cut the water.]
Right, then. Let's get out.
[He tells himself it's just easier to tolerate this shite. He knows how they reared Homelander up into the monster... it'll get him more loyal if Butcher gives him a little bit of softness instead of just the punishments. Not that he's entirely sure he's capable of soft anymore.
It's probably just a matter of time until his own monsters come out to play again.]
[He kind of expected Butcher to play it cool -- sweet and cuddly just isn't his style and Homelander respects that -- but he'll take what he can get.
He has to get his stupid fucking briefs all the way off before stepping out of the shower, throwing them in the hamper and grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist.
When he opens the bathroom door, there's a very distressed-looking squonk behind it.]
Sorry, Princess.
[He pats the crying creature on the head a few times until it calms down, before glancing back at Billy.]
[He isn't the type of guy to go for sweet and cuddly, no. Best Homelander can hope for is Butcher not being a total fucking cunt on occasion.
He wraps a towel around himself when he's out as well, giving a huff at the squonk still whining at the door.]
You've spoiled her, y'know.
[Like he hasn't Terror...
At the question, he lets out a grunt and nods down the hall.]
It's in me room.
[Way he sees it, Homelander will probably see it one day. Might as well be under a controlled circumstance than before the devil asks one of them to dip their bollocks in acid or go carving off flesh.]
Just don't get weird about it. I'll-- try to fucking explain if you've got questions.
[He doubts there's anything he could do to toughen her up. She needs a bit of attention and reassurance every now and then.
Not that Homelander can relate to that or anything.
He goes into Billy's room, settling into his bed once he's located the list.
Anger, violence, murder... those are all easy enough to imagine. Billy isn't the chillest guy around. There are a few items he lingers on with mild discomfort, but mostly curiosity. He takes it all in stride until...]
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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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His.
One thing is for certain -- no one is going to kill him unless it's Butcher. Or maybe they'll just kill each other. He thinks he'd be just fine with that, oddly enough.
Just not right now. Lips curl up in half a sneer.]
Huh. Well, well. You weren't pulling me leg about being new at this, were you, love?
[He pulls away enough to let some of the water wash the cum off his hand and anywhere else it splattered.]
Gonna have to work on that control of yours.
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His lip quivers, gaze sinking to the floor to avoid Billy's scorn.
Hold yourself together. Don't cry. Don't you fucking DARE cry.]
I--I'm sorry, Sir.
[The apology is hushed and thick in his throat, but those are well-practiced words.]
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He doesn't like that, surprisingly. Maybe he would under other circumstances, but here, it just feels bloody awkward.
He shushes him quietly, tips Homelander's head back to kiss him. Hopefully that shuts him up before any real waterworks start.]
Stop the fucking apologies. Like you're the only lad to spill his load the first time someone grabs his cock.
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He can look Billy in the eye, after that.]
I'll do better next time.
[...There's gonna be a next time, right?]
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[He shifts up a little bit to nip at Homelander's earlobe before he speaks quietly in his ear.]
Maybe I won't let you come until I'm done with you next time... until you can't stand it. [Give him a whole new reason to cry... maybe see if he can get a please, sir next.]
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--o-okay.
That sounds... great.
[Christ, he needs to keep his mouth shut.]
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Mm.
[He chuckles quietly before stepping back and looking Homelander over. At least the blood's washed off by now, and any evidence of what they just did.]
Maybe you can come to bed with me tonight.
[He hasn't exactly invited Homelander back, young as he is, but-- what's the fucking point in pretending he's any sort of saint now? Never suited him, and Homelander is-- still fucking Homelander, just not with quite the same sins to his name yet.]
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I'd like that.
[A lot, apparently. He's never shared a bed with anybody, and the invitation fills him with a strange, tingling warmth.
He steps forward, to press his lips softly to Billy's.]
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At least in a way that feels like maybe it's actually genuine.
It's weird as fuck-- enough that Butcher isn't sure if he should scoff and tell him to knock it off or just... nudge Homelander lightly before he reaches for the knobs to cut the water.]
Right, then. Let's get out.
[He tells himself it's just easier to tolerate this shite. He knows how they reared Homelander up into the monster... it'll get him more loyal if Butcher gives him a little bit of softness instead of just the punishments. Not that he's entirely sure he's capable of soft anymore.
It's probably just a matter of time until his own monsters come out to play again.]
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He has to get his stupid fucking briefs all the way off before stepping out of the shower, throwing them in the hamper and grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist.
When he opens the bathroom door, there's a very distressed-looking squonk behind it.]
Sorry, Princess.
[He pats the crying creature on the head a few times until it calms down, before glancing back at Billy.]
Hey... you said I could see your list?
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He wraps a towel around himself when he's out as well, giving a huff at the squonk still whining at the door.]
You've spoiled her, y'know.
[Like he hasn't Terror...
At the question, he lets out a grunt and nods down the hall.]
It's in me room.
[Way he sees it, Homelander will probably see it one day. Might as well be under a controlled circumstance than before the devil asks one of them to dip their bollocks in acid or go carving off flesh.]
Just don't get weird about it. I'll-- try to fucking explain if you've got questions.
[But no promises it'll be a good one.]
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[He doubts there's anything he could do to toughen her up. She needs a bit of attention and reassurance every now and then.
Not that Homelander can relate to that or anything.
He goes into Billy's room, settling into his bed once he's located the list.
Anger, violence, murder... those are all easy enough to imagine. Billy isn't the chillest guy around. There are a few items he lingers on with mild discomfort, but mostly curiosity. He takes it all in stride until...]
You killed a whale?
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[But that dumb cunt Deep shouldn't have put it in his way either.
He moves to sit on the other side of the bed, leaning back against the headrest.]
Sometimes shit happens, yeah?
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Aha. Sure thing, Ahab.
[He's not judging. He's killed his share of animals on accident, after all. Birds especially tend to get in the way.
Skewering a whale is just... pretty fucking far out there. Impressive, almost.]
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C'mon. I'm sure you've got an odd kill or two, yeah?
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