[Homelander goes tense and rigid at the word monster, his gaze narrowing. He only relaxes, slowly, when Billy declares himself one -- and the touch helps, serving as nonverbal reassurance.
Billy can be pretty persuasive. If you look at it from that slightly skewed angle, hell doesn't sound too bad.
Freedom, huh?]
So you're saying I should lay down the cape and invest in some horns and hooves?
There's a difference, mate. You're so wound up on people seeing you as bloody-- Jesus fucking Christ in spandex. I'm not saying go out and murder everybody and level the hotel. You've still got to choose your battles.
[If Butcher minds the touches, he doesn't seem to show it. There's a sigh that passes his lips as he looks up towards the ceiling.]
You just don't have to walk around like you've got a stick up your arse either.
[Uh, rude. First, Jesus Christ in spandex is his fucking brand. Second, Would a guy with a stick up his ass let you jerk him off in the shower? C'mon.]
So I've got to broodily swagger around in a trench coat, is what you're saying.
[He huffs out a sigh, looking down at Homelander making himself at home. You jerk a guy off once and he thinks it's a free ticket to cuddle, apparently. He rolls his eyes at the cute comment.]
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Billy can be pretty persuasive. If you look at it from that slightly skewed angle, hell doesn't sound too bad.
Freedom, huh?]
So you're saying I should lay down the cape and invest in some horns and hooves?
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Especially if it involves keeping Homelander dragged down to Hell, even if it means staying and rotting away with him.
But there's that grin lingering on his lips and he seems rather pleased Homelander's considering all this.]
I'm not saying you should set out to be the biggest cunt there is out there, but just fucking relax, mate.
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You know, just a little while ago, you were saying I needed to work on my control.
[He edges closer, trailing a finger over Billy's chest in a slow, meaningless pattern.]
Now you're telling me to relax?
Seems a bit contradictory.
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[If Butcher minds the touches, he doesn't seem to show it. There's a sigh that passes his lips as he looks up towards the ceiling.]
You just don't have to walk around like you've got a stick up your arse either.
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So I've got to broodily swagger around in a trench coat, is what you're saying.
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[Well, maybe he shouldn't be so obsessed with his fucking brand, then.
... But alright, he did let him jerk him off. Maybe he's loosening up a bit.]
You've got a closet full of hideous fucking t-shirts, stick with those.
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You're awfully territorial about that smelly old coat of yours.
[He's squirmed in close enough to rest his head on Billy's chest, draping an arm around him.]
It's cute.
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[He huffs out a sigh, looking down at Homelander making himself at home. You jerk a guy off once and he thinks it's a free ticket to cuddle, apparently. He rolls his eyes at the cute comment.]
Alright, alright... get some sleep.