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Held tightly in spot Butcher had no choice but to swallow, the warm cum down his throat and the bitter taste in his mouth.. something about just how powerless he was in the situation was doing it for him today. When he’s finally able to pull back he looks up at the man with a smirk after wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
“Someone’s in a bad fuckin’ mood today. Get out a the wrong side of the bed this mornin’ mate?”
With that a scarlet boot is pressed down on his cock that was already straining against the fabric of his pants. An involuntary groan escapes him at the friction, which unbeknownst to him is about the height of attention his dick is going to get. ‘I told you not to speak, William.’ Homelander presses down a little harder and he winces. `
“Oi. Easy on the pressure there.”
He grumbles and Homelander smiles wicked and chuckles like the crazed fucking twat he is. ‘This is easy! You know if I stepped down with force I could crush your entire pelvis. Count yourself lucky.’ Butcher scoffs but the blond starts to rub his boot against him and his body is moving on its own it’s frotting against it. He’s hardly listening but Homelander is continuing his spiel. ‘I could rip you apart so easily. Like you would a fucking piece of paper! That’s what you humans are to me. Fragile fucking toys. So go on hump your god’s boot, pathetic as you are.’ He pauses and looks at him with disgust. He will not take being talked to that way.
“Cut out the god complex shit. Bit off a mood killer, innit.”
Shocked when he isn’t stopped in his attempt to stand up. Given enough to position himself in front of him, look down into his eyes as a challenge. He raises an eyebrow as if to ask ‘Anything to say to that?’ but within a blink of the eye that was taken from him. Homelander’s hand on his throat and he’s squeezing hard, enough for him to stay just barely conscious and choke on air. ‘I should just snap your neck here and now.’ The blue eyes looked at him like he was dirt.
‘‘But I’m hard again. So fucking bend over and I’ll teach you a thing or two about manners.’ When thrown back down his head was spinning from the light nausea is nearly passing out. He noticed the blond lick those sharp canines in response to how he gasped for air. No shot is he allowing himself to be killed by him even if he would regenerate and god he is really starting to feel desperate. So over the couch it is, besides the man isn’t a bad fuck.. and it’s exactly what Butcher invited him over for. He isn’t going to comment on that insane and unreasonable refractory period. ‘And you call me needy, William! Where’s all that fight gone, hm?’ The supe chastises and he strips his bottom half and pulls out his own dick. He just groans in response they both know it’s means a wordless fuck you. ‘You’re getting spit. I don’t care if it hurts you, I don’t even care if you finish. But I will be cumming inside you, understood?’ Another wordless grumble as a reply. Which is answered with a sharp slap to his ass, ‘Understood?’ `
“Christ. Yeah. Whatever just fuckin’ get go it.”
Another click of the tongue, ‘Patience is a virtue, William.’ Though as he is saying that it’s not long before he’s spitting on his hand and pumping himself. Spitting on his hole and with no preparation or warning sticking it in. Wasn’t fucking lying about not caring if it hurt. A pained groan comes from Butcher and Homelander practically mewls. ‘Now that’s a pretty sound, instead of wasting all that breath being so rude.’ He bends himself over his body to whisper this in his ear, and to bottom out inside him. Kissing and biting at his back and shoulder while slamming himself in and out with a sharp force. It’s feeling better and he finds himself moaning like a fucking bitch. Humiliating. Worse again that he does indeed cum practically untouched. Though of course Homelander keeps going until he’s finished, pumping every last drop inside him.
Breathlessly when they’re finished he comments with a smirk, always having to have the last word.
“Fuckin’ hell. ‘S like you’re tryna knock me up. Do ye need to be reminded that I don’t have a cunt.”
’Always the comedian, William. Next time I will just fuck that hole in your head.’ And he’s staring dagger into his forehead as he says that, freak is practically drooling as he looks at his perfect spot which just so happens to be where his newest addition to all his other bullshit sits. His new best friend the tumour. And just like the last few times before he stays the night and cuddles with a god damn vice grip. Butcher doesn’t understand what he gets from that, perhaps a power trip knowing that he can’t make him leave. Though he’ll begrudgingly admit to himself he doesn’t entirely hate an extra bit of warmth in the bed. And he can’t hate it too much as this morning after, unprompted he’s making two servings of breakfast. Which is obviously because he isn’t arsed having the argument about it so he’ll do it before he has to grin and bear that.
“Oi, cunt. Eggy bread ‘n’ bacon’s on the table.”
When Homelander comes into the kitchen he’ll see a surprisingly well set breakfast, the bacon crispy and the french toast a good colour. On top of that it’s obvious which is his, one plate is sat with a nice glass of milk and the other a warm coffee that smells distinctly of bourbon.