Chapter Text
That deadly, blank stare accompanied his shark-like smile. Annie wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to it. If she’d ever be able to avoid the shivers that traveled down her spine when his canines glinted at her like a warning.
The knowledge that he could tell he terrified her made it even worse. He could hear her heart thrumming in her chest like a hummingbird.
“They’re lapping us up, the fucking cocksuckers.”
Annie made a noncommittal noise from her throat, her hands coming down to the cusps of her boots that always dug into her calves. The brief relief of her finger slipping between her skin and the leather was a sweet bliss. Unfortunately it was the only kind she could grasp these days.
She looked up to see his blue eyes fixated on her ministrations, until he finally dragged his eyes up to meet hers. Almost immediately he glanced away, his gloved hands placed behind his back. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders.
The eagles glinted at her under the light, as if mocking her.
The small room that they’d been ushered to while the news reporters advertised some stupid product suddenly felt awfully constricting. Almost as constricting as Homelander’s glove had been squeezing around her throat in the elevator all those moments ago. The one that never left her mind when she was near him.
Since they’d been co-captains and ‘dating’ there was no way she could avoid him. Almost every space including her own room at Vought tower wasn’t off limits for him. His presence stuck to her like gum under her shoe. Every conversation she had with anybody, every room she entered, it all centred around him these days.
Annoyingly, she knew it was what he wanted. To be the centre of attention.
“Hm. Suppose you’d be used to that, huh?” Homelander murmured.
His eyes were now fixated on her finger between her boot and her skin, brows raised.
Annie furrowed her brows. What was he on about?
“All those…” he gestured vaguely with his gloved hand “pageants you pranced around for when you were young. You’d be used to that by now, wouldn’t you?”
Annie grit her teeth and rolled her eyes, her cheeks flushed slightly. Of course he knew about the pageants. Of course he was trying to embarrass her. Point it out to belittle her and remind her she was below him.
“Oh, I watched them all, of course. Little Starlight singing and dancing along to… what was it? Brittney Spears? I’m sure the male judges just lapped that up-“
“Okay. Enough.” Starlight bristled.
Her dark eyes settled on his and she pulled her hand from her calf, placing them both in her lap politely like she’d always been trained to do. Even in the presence of monsters.
He’d turned around now, his flag glaring at her as he stared out of the studio window into the parking lot. She couldn’t help but glare daggers into his gloved hands that were folded behind him, the gesture he so often did.
She briefly wondered if he’d been trained to do so.
Homelander’s head tilted only slightly as he spoke.
“Little Annie January, so naive and-and hopeful. Who knew you’d end up in a relationship with Homelander himself, hm?”
“We’re not actually in a relationship.” Annie reminded him, though her body was tense.
Where was he going with this?
To her surprise he chuckled although she couldn’t tell for sure if it was genuine or not. It was difficult without seeing his face. She’d grown quite adept at recognising his mood from his eyes, not that she’d ever tell him that. She’d quietly studied him, the dead pools of ice blue usually gave it away.
His shoulders shook as he chuckled.
“No, no. We’re not. But I’m sure you used to think about it, hm? In Des Moines. Daydreaming about me, the leader of the Seven.”
“Imagine my disappointment.” Starlight grit out and she knew it was a mistake before it even left her lips.
Suddenly he spun around and she braced herself, hands now digging into the little pop-up chair’s armrests. She felt a piece of wood splinter beneath her nail.
He pointed a finger at her.
“No.” He chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “See, I picked up on your heart rate the first time we met. Steady 140 a minute. I mean, sure, you could’ve just been nervous but those cheeks of yours gave it away.”
Annie froze, not really sure how to respond. It was so long ago that she didn’t even remember. He’d slowly morphed into a monster, any trace of admiration for him was gone years ago.
“Besides, you Christians look up to me like I’m Jesus Christ himself. So, did little Annie get on her knees and pray for me?” He drawled with a self-satisfied smirk.
Rage overtook her and she shot up out of her chair. The bright lighting of the room flickered as her eyes lit up, her palms outstretched.
He tilted his head almost robotically and his blue eyes narrowed.
“Don’t be stupid, missy.” He said lightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Annie felt defeated as she let the energy go. The lights returned to normal. She sunk back into her chair.
Fuck this. She was tired of the sexual innuendo. The attempts at intimidating her. The snarky comments.
Frustration built inside of her knowing there was no way to intimidate him back. If she so much as flexed her powers he told her off. If she actually used them…she’d be dead in minutes if she was lucky. If she conspired against him openly he’d kill Hughie - not that they’d been speaking much recently.
She was left with the big bad wolf with nothing to fend herself with, nothing but her ratings.
Annie watched warily as he slumped into his own chair, the wood creaking with his weight. He placed his cape carefully on his lap. His face was passive now, his thin lips pressed and eyes distant. His sight was in line with her boots again, though his gaze was vacant; a million miles away.
She so badly wanted to get back at him. To intimidate him back. To make him shocked and unsure. Since they’d been fake dating to the public she’d seen glimpses of parts of himself he hid.
She had to admit, a sick part of herself enjoyed the taken-aback gasp he let out as she kissed him in front of the cameras. She’d felt him stiffen, heard the intake of breath that only she could’ve heard. It was almost worth the nauseating feeling that crept up her throat, settled in her belly. To even shock him a little bit. To feel in control.
Annie stared at him through her lashes, noticing the way he was completely detached and dissociated. Whatever frustration and amusement he’d had building up in his system from teasing her was gone, replaced by nothing.
Annie cleared her throat, standing up promptly. His gaze flickered onto her as she walked over to him. A look of trepidation on his face as she stood by his side. That hesitant look alone was enough to spur her on.
“You know, the fans have been commenting that you don’t seem like you worship me enough.”
He immediately scoffed out a breathless laugh, his handsome features twisting into a disbelieving look.
He shook his head but she noticed the way his blue eyes darted away from her gaze.
It was odd, these small glimpses of him being someone almost bashful. In comparison to the horrors he’d unleashed onto the world it was hard to believe.
Suddenly he turned his head back towards hers, the cockiness he usually exuded back. He ran his tongue over his bottom teeth and his eyes roamed over her face, as if contemplating something.
“If anyone should be worshipped it’s me.” Homelander said, a smug smirk on his face.
“Okay. It’s just what the fans have been saying. And you know that usually reflects in our points.” Annie shrugged her shoulders, turning to walk back to her chair.
“…wait.”
She spun around on her heel, biting back a grin.
He stood up and towered over her, his boots and the eagles on his shoulders making him appear more imposing than he really was- at least physically.
He was looking at her with mild suspicion, but then his features turned contemplative, hesitant.
Something had shifted in the air. She wasn’t sure if it was her or him but something had changed.
“…how do you want me to worship you?”
She froze. His voice was soft, timid even. It sounded like trickling honey.
Homelander was looking at her in such earnestness she felt an unfamiliar pang in her chest, a strange warm feeling in her stomach. It was in contrast to the usual ice-cold flush of terror that normally accompanied his presence.
He wasn’t asking to be cocky. He wasn’t even asking as a joke. It was a genuine question and she could see it dwindling in his eyes every second she didn’t reply.
Annie knew the cruelness would come eventually if she didn’t speak soon. She didn’t quite trust her voice, though.
She was only going to ask him to simply rub her feet, humiliate him back a little and enjoy the way he would scoff. The request would have taken him aback, which is what she wanted- she wanted control.
But now, looking at the earnestness on his face with the absence of cruelty, a strange feeling of power washed over her; the same power he’d taken from her for years. Belittling her. Making awful remarks.
There was one thing she knew that was proven to take him aback, the same thing she’d done in front of the cameras not long ago, when he’d convinced the world they were in love. The kiss that made his breath halt.
There was a line that had been drawn by her long ago that had been stepped over by everyone she knew; now it was her turn to cross it.
Annie walked quietly over to him, ignoring the hummingbird patter of her heart in her chest, ignoring that he could hear it. He watched her carefully and warily, his blue eyes never leaving her gaze.
Annie pressed up on her tippytoes and leant in near his face. She heard the familiar hitch of his throat and felt the surge of power she’d felt on stage, the small victory.
She’d done it.
He didn’t move. His body was stiff. Her heart felt like it was going to give out and adrenaline pumped through her.
Her lips only hovered close to his, about to come up with a quick clap back to knock him down a peg, to be cruel to him like he was to her.
Then suddenly his arms were around her, one rested on her waist and the other on the back of her head. It wasn’t forceful and it calmed the brief panic that crept up in her throat.
His lips suddenly pressed against hers, strangely soft. So softly she could barely register that it was Homelander kissing her. For a moment she froze.
What was happening?
A deep, low hum came from the back of his throat and travelled into her mouth. It sent a warm feeling down her body.
He smelt like leather and something distinctly masculine she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
And almost immediately, despite logic, she found herself kissing him back.
She matched his pace. It wasn’t a battle of dominance. It wasn’t intimidation, now. It wasn’t even false. He was holding her like she was glass and she was slowly breaking.
She felt him respond eagerly, a soft noise coming from him that was distinctly not very Homelander-like.
Annie wasn’t prepared for the feelings that rose inside her. There was guilt, that was the main one, for feeling any kind of enjoyment in kissing him. Then confusion at herself, mixed in with shame for even letting this happen.
And then…there was that awfully overwhelming feeling of desire that was so unfamiliar in his presence.
This was the monster of her nightmares kissing her without the cameras. The man she detested the sight of. The one she was afraid of and yet, she found herself enjoying it. Her entire body was tingling.
Suddenly, he stopped. She felt him withdraw from her lips and she opened her eyes to find him with his brows furrowed, a look of confusion and something scarily like concern in his blue eyes. She didn’t think she’d ever seen concern there before.
It terrified her more than anything he’d ever said or done to her.
One of his gloved hands came out to stroke his thumb against her cheek, beneath her eye.
Annie furrowed her brows in confusion.
What was he doing?
“You’re crying.” He murmured quietly, as if he read the question in her mind. His eyes on her cheek.
She felt the tears now. They were hot against her face. Annie hadn’t even realised they’d formed.
The overwhelming feelings inside her caused her to panic, taking a step backwards.
What the fuck was she doing?
Surprisingly he didn’t follow her, didn’t make a move to intimidate her or scorn her.
Homelander only looked at her with that soft, worried look that she’d never seen before. Like a little boy afraid he’d done something wrong.
His thin lips parted as if to say something and she noticed his own chest was rising and falling rapidly. Strands of gelled blonde hair had come to fall against his forehead, giving him an undone look that she’d never seen before.
The sound of the door opening caused Annie to look over, seeing Ashley’s gaze flickering between the pair of them, a look of concern on her face.
“U-uh, you’re back on in five.”
Before she knew it, the red-head had left, closing the door behind her.
Annie snuck a quick glance back to Homelander, a jolt of something travelling down her body as she saw him still staring at her.
His gaze was more guarded now, but he swallowed thickly, his head tilted up.
The silence was too much to bare, so was whatever had just transpired between them.
Annie made a move to leave the suffocating room first, only to almost bump into him as they both headed for the door at the same time.
His arm was outstretched as he opened it, leaving her awfully close to his body. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she felt him standing behind her.
He tapped his palm against the door.
“After you, sweetie.” His voice dripped with its usual sarcasm, using the pet name he elected for her in interviews.
She felt his gaze on her as she walked back to the set.
The wolf was back- and she couldn’t help but think he’d sunk his teeth into her. Not once had she clenched her fist.