Chapter Text
"John. Stan."
Senator Robert Singer's voice was commanding as he stepped toward them, the man of the hour that everyone was buzzing back and forth about. The gray-haired, bearded Senator, a presidential hopeful, wore a tailored navy suit. He reached out toward Stan, shaking his hand first before turning to Homelander.
The crowd parted for him like he was Moses in the flesh; cameras immediately began clicking, and donors and socialites alike were following him, hoping to shake his hand or even offer him a smile. "Gentlemen, I don't know what you two were discussing, but I'm assuming it was a glowing endorsement speech," Singer said smoothly with the tenured ease of being in politics for so long. "I don't want anything too heated in front of the cameras…" He warned.
Homelander pivoted on his heel before extending his own hand, "Senator, it's an honor." He drawled as they shook hands. He shifted, turning so he could place his free hand on his back as they posed for the photographers. It was a perfect photo op between the President hopeful and the CEO of Vought.
The headlines would probably read something along the lines of patriotism, brotherhood, and democracy, or some bullshit like that. No one would be none the wiser to know that Homelander just collected another soul like it was nothing. He waited until the flash bulbs died down before he pulled himself away from Singer and reached into his suit jacket.
Homelander pulled out a thick envelope, held it between two fingers, and deliberately handed it to Singer, adjusting his stance to keep the envelope hidden between their bodies.
Singer glanced down between them before his eyebrows rose over his glasses frames and toward his receding hairline. He swallowed as he gripped the envelope, "Wh-what's this?" He asked as he glanced toward Homelander.
Homelander smiled easily, but it didn't reach his eyes as he spoke slowly, "A donation. Consider this my way of saying thank you for everything you're about to do for our great country. Think of this as a taste, an allowance. When you win, there will be more where that came from." He winked at him.
Singer opened it like a child trying to feign excitement, knowing that the card contained money; his eyes widened as he flashed to the number on the check. That was the only tell on his face; nothing else shifted as he tucked the check back inside the envelope. "I'll have my people keep the line open to Vought." He said flatly.
Homelander grabbed a glass passing on a silver tray, number 6 or 7 now. He raised it in the air as the press turned to him, "To Senator Singer, let's make some history tonight. A man like him, backed by you, good people, and flanked by our future Vice President Victoria Neuman? They can't lose." He took a sip before tilting his glass in their direction, "Democracy—nooo—America is in great hands." He finished his drink in one long swallow and replaced it on the tray.
The flashbulbs lit up like fireworks as the press captured the applause and the looks on everyone's faces while Homelander spoke. It was perfect on the optics side, no doubt, but all of that drained him. He was starving and ready to leave. Immediately, he spotted Annie across the ballroom; she was talking to Victoria and Hughie while Stan hovered.
Homelander's eyes narrowed. He didn't realize the man had gone there when Singer interrupted him. Well, every turnabout deserves fair play. He waltzed over, not before grabbing another glass. He should've slowed down, but he's not driving, and these things were overstimulating. He came toward the edge of their huddle, his left arm snaking around Annie's waist, tugging her backward into him.
No one noticed that, aside from Hughie, Victoria, and Stan, everyone else was in a heated debate.
Stan's eyes were cold, and his fury was blazing as they remained locked on Victoria. "Nadia…" He said shortly, "Why? Why is he here? John Homelander is not to be trusted at all. He's doing backdoor whispers to sneak into the government… he's trying to get to you, just to get me!" He said lowly as his eyes cut from his daughter to Homelander's glazed ones. He didn't care as his eyes focused directly on that man.
"Dad, Homelander's a donor… He wrote Robert and me a check—" Victoria started before she was interrupted sharply. "He's using you! He shouldn't be welcome here."
Homelander chose that moment to speak up; his cheek was pressed against Annie's, almost as if he wanted to press as humanly as possible against her. His right hand still held his glass in his fingers as he gestured with it, "Whoa! Stan, I'm not just welcome… Vicky invited me personally. I'm a guest of honor. I was told you weren't going to be here because your blood pressure couldn't take seeing me or something… I don't know, I don't care enough about you to ask."
Hughie cringed as Annie sighed deeply, but in a flash, she found herself half shoved in Hughie's arms as Homelander gently shoved her aside to keep Stan from advancing in her direction. Stan didn't move a muscle, but he moved forward quickly and hissed through clenched teeth, "You son of a bitch!" It was loud enough that a few heads turned in their direction, and a small crowd formed. "You think you can turn my own daughter against me?! Blood. She has my blood, and you think she'll throw that away as you parade yourself like you're some type of King—"
"STAN." Victoria raised her voice, and it cut across the ballroom. She stood in front of her father with heartbreak and disappointment in her eyes and painted across her features. "Dad… you're making a scene. I need you to go. Security." Her voice was final, though it had a distinct warble.
Everyone watched as security in black suits flanked Stan. He didn't fight it, but he clenched his fists at his sides as he squared his shoulders; his eyes flickered to Victoria. "Why?" He asked softly.
"Dad, I'm a grown woman now… I don't need protecting. I… all those years without mom, every rant and complaint about the past, about Vought, about my future… You weren't protecting me. I was protecting you." Victoria's eyes softened as she watched her father look at her, stunned. She raised her head, "Before you embarrass yourself and me anymore… go… please." She turned to look at the security guards wearing clear earplugs, "Escort Mr. Edgar and Mr. Vernon out." She added softly.
Homelander stood behind Victoria, pleasantly drunk, as their eyes locked. He could see the promise of revenge swirling in Stan's eyes, and he relished it. He grinned, flashing his fangy teeth, as the ballroom returned to normal as if nothing had happened: conversations continued, laughter was heard, and the musicians resumed playing.
Homelander drained the rest of his glass, took Annie's, and tilted it back, too. He shook his head before placing both glasses on a passing tray. He started a slow clap for Victoria, "You've got some balls, Vicky. That's what our fucking country needs. America needs someone who can cut the old wood and burn it before it starts rotting." He said while grinning, lopsidedly. "To kick your father out, your own flesh and blood? You won't have any fucking problem keeping our country together."
Victoria exhaled as she leaned into Hughie's embrace, "Annie, you two should go as well. Homelander's drunk, and I think we've had enough of the Vought CEO here." She muttered as she laced her fingers with Hughie, "Thank you for the donation, though."
Homelander was drunker than he'd been in a while; he forgot all about the war that was happening while he was enjoying public scrutiny. He wrapped his arm around Annie, his head tilted sideways on top of hers. "You deserve every penny, not the old genatric fucker, I have a feeling we're looking at our first female president after this VP stint." He said before pouting as he realized what she said, "Aww… I was loosening up too. Guess I can't have fun anymore."
Homelander reached out and shook Hughie's hand, it was looser than earlier, "That was fun earlier. Good talk. I'll definitely want to see if you guys have my Little League baseball card. Yeah?"
Hughie smiled widely as he shook Homelander's hand back, eagerly, "Yeah. Of course. Just let me know, and I'll definitely look for it." He said, smiling widely.
Annie pulled away from Homelander, hugged both her friends, and stepped back. She smiled at them, "We have to get together again. Not like this, something intimate and fun… possibly with fewer drinks." She said, gesturing toward Homelander, who was trying to stand perfectly straight. His head tilted back as he stared at the chandeliers above them. "Victoria, you'd love John's cousin's girlfriend, Jessica. She's smart and witty, and I love her." She said, as she shifted backward to serve as a kickstand for a swaying Homelander.
Victoria smiled at her friend and waved, "Definitely sounds fun. I'll call you once the busier parts of the election process die down. I love you, Annie, babe." She waved as she kissed Hughie's cheek.
Homelander and Annie stumbled, mostly due to him, as they left the ballroom together. Once the cool air hit Homelander, he stood still for a few moments as the chill ran over his heated skin. He peeled his weary eyes open before looking down at her, "Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" He murmured as they walked toward the SUV.
Mario had already opened the back door; he stood beside it as they walked closer. Homelander was dragging and scuffing his shoes as Annie tried to maneuver him the best she could. He was heavier than her and was using her like a cane.
"John, you've said it several times tonight, alone. Why?" Annie said, grunting as she got him to the backseat. Homelander climbed up first before tugging her upward like she weighed nothing. She squeaked when he lifted her onto the backseat with him. He nodded to Mario, who was watching the man close the door behind them.
Homelander melted against her as soon as he heard the engine start to purr; the city sounds and campaign noise were long behind them as Mario pulled away from the hotel. He buried his face into her throat with a groan, "Fuck, Annie… this is what I imagine Heaven is like." He slurred as his nose pressed against her pulse. "It's because you're beautiful and gorgeous and nice and put up with my bullshit and you like me for me and because you're mine and you're an angel and you smell good and you look pretty."
Annie listened to him slur and babble against her throat. She felt his arm around her waist; it reminded her of a child clutching their stuffed animal as they fell asleep in bed. His hold on her was tight and selfish, yet lax. Tight enough to keep her against him, but lax enough for if she wanted to switch her position.
Usually, when Homelander was pressed against her, she'd be suffocating, his thigh against hers, his unnatural body heat making her warmer than usual, but he was familiar now. It was dangerous, like an addiction you were used to. Annie reached up to tuck her fingers into his hair. She started at the nape of his neck and ran her nails lightly through the strands, scratching his scalp.
Homelander had a noise rumble deep from the back of his throat as her fingers rhythmically untangled the strands from the night. He had downed at least 10 glasses of whiskey, possibly, he couldn't remember the count, then he had some champagne, but those were glorified sparkling juices. He nosed her neck while the hand around her waist slid up her stomach, his fingertips brushing the Pearl Lariat necklace that hung in the V-neck of her platinum dress. He rolled the pearl between his index and thumb.
Annie felt Homelander's cold nose nudge beneath her jaw as his mouth opened against her throat, his tongue teased her pulse, and she just knew this night was going to end with her against some surface and him pounding between her thighs. Instead, he surprised her as he muttered slowly, "I want something sweet…"
Annie braced herself, expecting his hand to drop between her thighs and tell Mario to either go around or break every traffic law known to man, but he didn't. She glanced down at where she could still see faint bruising on his jaw; she hadn't even asked about his stitches and whether they hurt. "You… you don't mean me… right?" She asked with narrowed eyes.
Homelander's drunkenness was boyish, almost like a teenager getting high for the first time. "No, but I do want to help you peel out of your dress when we get home." He purred as he kissed her throat again. "I want a milkshake. Not one of those artificial things from the fast food places, I mean a real milkshake."
Annie was taken aback and wished she could see his face to gauge whether he was serious. "A… milkshake? Your sweet tooth is making you crave a milkshake?" She questioned softly.
Homelander nodded before pulling his face away from the crook of her neck and adjusting himself on the seat. He was lying on his back with his head pillowed on her thighs. He stared up at the roof of the SUV before clearing his throat enough to give a slurred command, "Mario. Take us to Queens. Forest Hills… um, Eddie's Sweet Shop." His mouth popped on the 'p'.
The partition lowered behind him, Mario's eyes glanced in the rearview, but he could only see Annie sitting up against the backseats. He spoke anyway, "Sir, that's out of our way, we're closer to your—"
"I don't pay you to ask me questions. You fucking drive, Mario." Homelander said, grabbing one of Annie's hands and placing it across his forehead. She got the gist and slowly threaded her fingers through his hair again. "They close at 11, and it's 10:30. We've got time if you drive like you don't want to end up in the obituaries section of the Post."
Homelander heard the partition rise, the SUV smoothly shifted lanes, and Mario had no further statements. Annie was staring down at him with a look of disbelief on her face, "Besides you wanting a milkshake, the most surprising thing of the night was you somehow getting Victoria to kick her own father out of the campaign party…. I'm not even going to mention Vernon because you knew far too much about that man that'd like to repeat."
Homelander smiled lopsidedly as he felt her fingers in his hair, "That was fun… I was just getting started. Can you imagine if he burst a blood vessel right there? I used to be scared of that man when I was younger, EJ, and I swore he'd be the reason we're in silver bracelets." He tilted his head back with a chuckle as his eyes flickered toward the window. He could see the city lights blurring past the windows. "Be honest with me, do you think I'm going to have a hangover tomorrow? I have business to take care of."
"A hangover? I'm going to be surprised if you wake up at all." Annie giggled softly as she kept massaging her fingers through his hair. "I'm sure after this milkshake you so desperately want, once we get back home, your head is going to hit the pillow, and I'm sure you're gonna be in a mini coma."
Homelander shifted until he was lying on her sideways, he was facing her stomach, his shoulder was pressed into the leather, but wedged against the outside of her thigh while he tried to draw his legs up onto the seat. He was too long for what he wanted to do; he pressed his face into the silk and sighed, "How terrible do you think I really am?" He muttered against the dress; his breath was hot through the silk.
Annie watched him attempt to hide in her stomach; she watched him suddenly become vulnerable. He had moments like this, and she was used to them by now. He was drunk, and she didn't want him to feel worse. She moved her fingers from his hair to trace the side of his face; she could feel his jaw flex beneath her touch. She could see his eye squinting and glancing at her. She leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth.
Homelander made a content noise as she pulled back. Annie wiped his hair from his forehead, "You're not terrible… you're human… You just make a lot more mistakes than a regular human should…" She watched the streetlights bleed through the tinted windows and blur across his face, "Plus, if you were terrible, I wouldn't have let it get this far. Why would I be with a man I know is terrible?"
Homelander snorted as he reached out, his hand flexed, squeezing the meat of her thigh before pushing himself upright with a groan. "You're really an angel… I'm fucked up in the head, and you can say things that help me justify why I'm fucked up." He leaned in, pressing his forehead against her cheek as he soundly kissed her jaw with a loud smacking noise. "That's why I can see myself loving you." He murmured as he pulled his jacket off and threw it over the back of the seats.
Annie watched him unbutton the top three buttons of his dress shirt as his chest came into view. He immediately scratched the hair there before flopping backward against the other side of the seat, one leg bent at an angle on the leather seat while the other was stretched out in front of him. "John, are you getting hot?"
Homelander nodded as he waved the collar of his shirt, "I'm about 10 seconds from stripping." He pulled at the white tank top he had beneath his shirt, "Mario. Don't start following the rules of the road now, put a little weight on that gas pedal." He suddenly leaned into her space, cupped her jaw in his hand, and brought his lips to hers.
Annie's eyebrows raised as her eyes fluttered, her hand gripping the back of his, holding her jaw. He kissed her softly, his lips were a warm press against hers. She felt his tongue brush her lips, and she parted them for him. She let him slide his tongue in her mouth and taste her. She wondered what he tasted because all she could taste was the liquor on his lips.
Homelander groaned into their kiss, his hand dropped from her face and slid down to her waist, he gripped her through the silky material, the leather squeaked beneath them as he tried to tug her closer. He felt like he was kissing her for the first time, like this was the last time he'd be with her like this. When he pulled back, he breathed heavily against her mouth, "When everything is over… I just want to do things with you. I don't care what…"
Annie smiled and rolled her eyes at him. She reached up and cupped his face, then gave him another short kiss as the SUV pulled to a stop. She watched him drink lazily and reached up to wipe his hair back; it curled at the edges around his ears. "You sound very sure that when you're not distracted with whatever you do, you'd love being around me."
Homelander breathed and felt sticky, "I need Mario to blast the air when we get back in here. Come on." He said, grabbing her hand and tugging her through the door on his side. He climbed down first and stumbled briefly before straightening himself. He turned and helped Annie down from the SUV.
Annie laced their fingers together and tugged him around the back of the truck. She looked up at the building with a slight grin. Eddie's Sweet Shop looked like a time capsule frozen in place. It looked like it belonged on a postcard somewhere; it was hard to believe it was plopped in the middle of Queens like this. It was an old-fashioned storefront with peppermint-striped awnings above it.
"This is the place? It looks… fake? Like it shouldn't be here." Annie muttered as her heels clicked on the worn pavement. The building was tucked between bodegas and laundromats, and it looked like the oldest building on the block. She felt him tug her hand, and she fell into step behind him.
Homelander held the red door open for them, and the bell chimed over their heads. Annie had to admit that they looked like unexpected clientele. She was still wearing her now-wrinkled platinum silk dress and black stilettos that clicked on the tiles beneath them. Homelander was no better beside her; he was in a half-wrinkled suit. He loosened his tie enough that it could easily slip over his head, and his jacket was abandoned in the backseat. His hair was tousled to Hell, and his icy blue eyes were glassy and barely open.
The floors were mostly white-tiled, with small black squares sporadically. The stools in front of the bar used to be plush red leather, but having thousands of people sitting on them wore them down to a dark, peeling brown. One stool squeaked and spun without someone sitting on it.
Toward the back of the restaurant were brown wooden booths that felt like the rest of the furniture; they were worn down to a softness that only came with age. Homelander leaned against the counter, his left hand still clasped with her right while his right hand swiped through his hair, "Two vanilla shakes… for here. Extra whipped cream and those bright fucking red cherries." He said with a mumble.
The teenager behind the counter only blinked slowly at him. Homelander patted the counter before inclining his head toward the booth. He tugged Annie toward the booth, held her hand as she sat down, then moved to his side and sat down, melting into the seat with a groan.
"Is this like a guilty pleasure place?" Annie asked as her hands traced the worn wood. She stared at all the carvings on the table with interest. She could almost imagine every individual who carved their initials, names, dates, or whatever into the wood. Her fingers paused at the ENN and the JBH with a bunch of tally marks beside them.
"Sort of. EJ and I found this place on a whim when I was 13, and he was 11." Homelander said as he reached out, his fingertips brushing hers across the booth. He wiggled his fingers as he watched her glance up at him.
"John, is this… is this you and EJ?" Annie asked while she stared at the letters dug deep into the older wood. "Is it your full name or something?"
"Yep. Earving Nathaniel Noir Jr and me, John Benjamin Homelander." Homelander said, tracing the initials alongside her. He pursed his lips as he remembered the reasoning why they did it. He leaned in with a suddenly serious voice, "We put our names down the first time we killed someone… it happened to be a bodega store owner." He turned his head, pointing through the frosted windows with the peeling decals. "Across the street, we were young, we had no clue what we were doing. Money was tight, and our mothers introduced us to this place."
Annie listened to him. At this point in their relationship, she wasn't scared or mortified at how he talked about killing people. She should've been, she knew her mother wouldn't like how easy she accepted it.
"We were stupid kids. I just got back from a short stint at Red River, and our fathers were moving product… we snagged two guns, we had no clue what the fuck we were doing. I could remember looking at EJ while we tried to hide the guns in our sweaters." Homelander shook his head as he thought back to those years ago. "We go into the bodega, we're looking around, trying to be inconspicuous, and we had it in our minds that we were gonna scare the old man, shake the guns in his face, but he clicked the panic button and locked us in, and we panicked. We were fucking kids…"
Homelander sighed loudly as he tapped his fingers between hers, "EJ's gun… the safety was on. The old man was trying to tell us we were too young, just wait for the cops, it was all a misunderstanding. But our fathers… not the shit they were into." He swallowed as his icy eyes met hers, "EJ got his safety off, and we closed our eyes and squeezed. Emptied the whole clip, nothing left until those soundless clicks. We didn't even look to see if he was dead yet… I went into the register, took some money, and we left through his apartment upstairs and used the fire escape."
Homelander could hear the man begging and pleading. He shivered as he looked out the window briefly before turning back to her, "We escaped from that fire escape across the street, and we came here and ordered our milkshakes. The whole block was flooded in red and blue lights, and EJ and I were shaking like leaves. We swore we were caught." He huffed and traced the other tallies, "Everyone afterward was just another soul. Then we stopped coming here because we had other vices: liquor, drugs, women… it wasn't milkshakes anymore."
Annie watched him remember it. Their bubble was broken as the teenager from the counter before came with their two vanilla milkshakes. She looked up and nodded at him as they were left alone. Homelander didn't give her time to attempt to eat one of her cherries. She watched him pop one in between his lips and pulled the stem out. "Wow. This place is cute… it looks like it hasn't changed since it was built."
Homelander stole another of her cherries and bit that one in half as he nodded, "The place opened in 1925, and its last remodel was 1968. This…" he gestured with a hand, "Is the version EJ and I grew up in. It didn't change since then." He finished eating her two cherries and moved on to his. He popped another one in his mouth and spat out the stem. He held up the last one and put it in his mouth, too.
Annie peeled her straw and shoved it into the thick shake. Her fingers traced the grooves on the glass. She glanced up to see his eyes narrowed and focused. His tongue was poking around his mouth until he stuck his tongue out at her. He had tongue-tied the stem and showed it off like a prize.
She could see the smug look on his face, but she couldn't even focus on the impressive feat, not when Victoria was poisoning her mind from here. Her friend had said that 'a guy beneath you and you could shut him up in the most pleasurable way, you have all the power in your hands' and that thought burned in the back of her mind as she stared at him. Her thighs pressed against the table as she looked at him.
Annie wondered if he'd let her? Would he beg if she hovered and didn't give in? As she imagined it, her cheeks warmed, and Homelander had slid the cherry stem over to her and tilted his head while he sipped from his glass, "I'm sorry… again…" He muttered lowly as he bent too far down, and whipped cream clung to the tip of his nose.
Annie blinked as she came to, his voice cut through the dark spiral of thoughts she was trailing down. She swallowed as she looked up at him, "Um… why? What happened?" She questioned as she tried to calm herself down.
“The argument… me choking you… I won't…" Homelander looked at her as his eyes softened, he smiled, and Annie hated how boyish he could look. "I won't hurt you again…"
Annie hated how earnest he looked; his smile was disarming and convincing. She sighed as she reached across the table, wiped the whipped cream from his nose with her thumb, and smiled at him, "I'll forgive you, John. But if you do it again—"
"I won't, I promise." Homelander interrupted as he grabbed her wrist, his mouth wrapped around her thumb as he cleaned the whipped cream from it. He let go to grin widely at her, "You know, if you don't finish your milkshake before I finish mine, I'm gonna shove you over and drink it." He warned her with a chuckle.
They sat in mostly silence as Homelander managed to drink most of his shake. Homelander stared at her from across the table as she sipped periodically. He stood up and moved to her side of the booth, blocking her against the window, his thigh pressed into hers. "Annie, angel…" He said softly.
Annie looked up, letting go of her straw, she turned to face him, "Hmm? What?" She noticed him looking at her lips. She leaned in while he did; instead of kissing her like she expected, he grabbed her straw between his lips. "Oh, you sneaky douche."
Homelander pulled away with a chuckle when she pushed him. He swallowed the shake before turning in the booth. He put his hand on her knee and squeezed before inclining his head, "I'm gonna pay. You finish up, and I'll carry you back to the car." He kissed her temple before leaving her alone. He left a wad of hundreds and tucked them into the tip jar before whistling obnoxiously while stopping next to the booth.
Annie scooted toward him. She winced because her feet were killing her, and he caught her expression in that moment. He turned and crouched wordlessly. She giggled when he hoisted her onto his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he stood tall. "John, don't drop me… you're drunk!" She giggled as he adjusted her on his back. "You can barely walk."
Homelander walked her through the closed store, and the door chimed behind them. When they made it outside, he stood there briefly, enjoying the cool spring air on his face. He staggered briefly before catching himself. He tightened his hands on her thighs, "You're light… I was joking. Don't choke me." He mumbled as he looked across the street at the parked SUV.
"I already told you, and you're probably gonna yell at me again, but you looked beautiful. Better than all the women there…" Homelander said, standing outside Eddie's, enjoying the air and feeling Annie's breath on his back. He peeked around the parked cars to make sure there wasn't any coming before starting to cross the street, "I'd burn the fucking world to a crisp if someone took you from me."
Annie wrapped her arms more securely around his neck and tugged herself further up his back. She pressed a kiss to the side of his face, she buried herself into the crook of his neck, and sighed, "John, I don't think anyone is crazy enough to take me from you… and you need to stop getting drunk like this." She whispered before resting her cheek against the back of his shoulder.
Homelander walked her across the street, and Mario, seeing them approaching, opened the back door for them. Homelander turned and backed up toward the truck so she could slide in before he climbed up and settled next to her. The door shut immediately behind him. He watched Annie get comfortable in the back seat; her back was to the other door, and she put her feet in his lap.
Annie watched him pull her stilettos off and set them between his polished shoes. She moaned when his strong fingers and thumbs worked into the arches of her feet. She threw her head back as he drew sighs and whimpers while he tried to soothe the aches.
Homelander chuckled as he watched her wither and shove her feet into his hands, "You know, if Mario hadn't lowered the partition, I know he'd think I was having my way with you back here." He teased with a slight slur; he was sobering up after the milkshake. He looked at how his hand wrapped around her foot and smiled, "Do you know how fucking small your feet are? They're so little."
Annie couldn't even answer as her toes curled; his thumbs tracing her arch from heel to toe, pressing in hard to relieve the ache. She didn't care that she was lying with her legs open and the silk dress had ridden up her thighs. Homelander had been between her legs multiple times and seen her naked just as many times. "Oh—oh my God!" She moaned before biting her bottom lip.
Homelander arched his eyebrow, he switched to the other foot, and watched her arch against the seats beneath her. He hummed, "You know, when you let me fuck you over the bathroom counter after our argument, that was all I thought about during the party." He muttered softly as he just held her feet in his lap, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Klara. She… she's just in the Seven, there's not much I can do about that. She's loyal-ish. She hasn't done anything that would justify me kicking her out."
Annie sat up while she wiggled her toes under his grip, "So your ex-friends with benefits is just gonna keep being a temptation around you until she does something for you to get rid of her?" She questioned him with an accusatory tone.
"Annie, we are not going to restart that argument. I don't deal with her, I don't think we've spoken since I smacked her and choked her against the window…" Homelander said nonchalantly with a shrug.
"Wait! You mean to tell me you choked her, too? So, should I be worried that this is a habit? Like, you seem very comfortable in choking women… are we going to be a domestic couple?" Annie teased; she watched him frown at her, and she knew her joke had gone over his head. "I'm kidding, we argued about this… calm down." She pulled her legs from his lap and crawled on the seat before collapsing on top of him with a grunt. She pressed her cheek against his chest and felt his arms wrap around him. "I can't wait to sleep."
Homelander nodded as he yawned, "I have shit to do tomorrow, I'll probably have a headache… and be hungover and irritable. What are you doing tomorrow while I'm… working?"
"I'm thinking about visiting mom, and then you said we'd eat out at Gramercy, maybe if you get home early enough, you can take me out… I have been craving a Miro steak, honestly." Annie said as she tilted her head back, she kissed his chin, "You know… I um, I love you, John."
Homelander was silent for a little while. She thought Mario's driving had finally lulled him to sleep, but he tucked his chin to kiss her forehead and whispered, "You shouldn't. I don't deserve it." He said as they both grew quiet.
Annie ignored the last sentence he spoke as she burrowed herself against him. She wondered why he'd say that, but she didn't want to ask. She let herself lie against his chest while he rubbed her back with one hand.
Homelander could feel her breathing start to even out. He pressed his chin to the top of her head as she lay sprawled against him. He shook his head as he looked down at her sleeping; she must've been worn out. The liquor was waning, but a headache was replacing it, throbbing behind his eyes; he hoped Mario got them to the penthouse soon. "You should've stayed away." He murmured against her hair.