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Homelander had his eyes set on a special someone.
It wasn’t Butcher, or any woman that he thought could replace Stillwell or Stormfront. He was an interesting fellow, nothing like William Butcher or any common woman. He wasn’t like any man he’d seen before.
Homelander first saw him while on a nightly flight around the city. Sometimes he’d stay in his tower and snort lines while watching himself on Vought+, patrols were getting less and less interesting to him over the years. As a god who could fly anywhere he wanted, see whatever he wanted…even if it was just to see ants crawl, it got boring quickly.
But this night wasn’t boring.
Homelander was hidden atop a building, the stench of the city and people burning his nose. That night, he just needed to see, to remind himself that this world was his.
“Get a goddamn job, Al.”
He could hear a voice among the car honks and footsteps, even if they were distant it sounded so close to the supe.
“You reek of shit, you know that?”
The voice sounded charismatic even saying that.
Homelanders interest was piqued. People watching wasn't usually his thing, but he had to see. He had to see the man who thought himself above another, and he was. His dark hair slicked back in a way that reminded him of himself, and with his attire, the supe immediately clocked him as a businessman.
Stabbing the homeless man was fine by Homelander, it was about time someone cleaned up the trash. He saw crime, a lot, but didn’t bother stepping in when there wasn’t a camera crew and no one saw him, or he just didn’t feel like it.
Stomping the little dog was a bit excessive but made Homelander even more curious. Of course, killing subhumans was fine with a lot of humans, but dog killing crossed a line with a lot of them. So this was certainly interesting. Homelander wasn’t a bleeding heart animal lover. He only felt a slight amusement hearing the dogs pained squeals and neck snap under the heel of the man’s loafer.
Whenever Homelander pictured serial killers, he imagined men who looked like Jeffrey Dahmer, John Wayne Gacy. This man looked pristine, crisp to the touch. Sharp and sterile, he had no flaws outside of being human. If he wasn’t human he had to be some kind of robot, angel, or demon. No one was this perfect besides Homelander…who was he, this man?
He said his name earlier, what was it?
“My names Patrick, Patrick Bateman.”
Homelander felt his lips curl, looks like he had some kind of entertainment.
He followed the man around for a while, even when he could learn anything he could ever want about Patrick at the snap of a finger. Ashley would go running and someone would dig up anything about him, but he wanted to see, he wanted to actually know Patrick.
Patrick Bateman was a nepo baby who worked at Pierce & Pierce. Whenever he went to work he didn’t really do anything. He loved music. His particular favorite musical was Les Mis. His skincare routine was killer, Homelander had a similar one. He took care of his body, something Homelander appreciated. Sometimes he’d put on porn or slasher movies as background noise.
He had subscriptions to a bunch of streaming services, including Vought+ but wasn’t a fan of that supe stuff. Patrick wasn’t seeing Homelanders face, but that was for the best, it was a fake version of him the human would be taking in. Homelander wanted him to know the real him.
He had a fiancé, which somehow gave Homelander a pang in his heart. He knew that feeling, it was jealousy. Patrick didn’t love her anyway, he’d throw a casual “Love you” and go bang someone else, either her best friend or a prostitute. Homelander was itching to see him murder one of the women he picked up, to see how he didn’t care for them either.
Oh, and Patrick was a serial killer. Homelander knew it was his duty to turn him in, but why? He was getting rid of self-righteous yuppie scum and the trash of society, he was doing the world a favor. When he brought home Paul Allen, Homelander was almost scared he’d fuck him. I mean, they went to dinner together. Even though Patrick was repulsed by gay men, Homelander knew what Ezekiel did behind closed doors. But thank god he didn’t do such things, with other men. Homelander was repulsed by it, watching two men fuck or seeing Patrick give his attention to another man, he wasn’t sure.
Seeing the axe split open Paul’s skull and hearing the crack was enough to make Homelanders mouth water. Seeing the blood on Patrick’s face was even better. Homelander came twice to the memory of it.
But now that the asshole was gone, Patrick was a suspect in his disappearance. Oh if only Bateman knew Homelander sooner, he could make it go away, make it all go away. He had to save him-
Wait, was he going gay? No. He was just admiring Patrick, he could do that without being gay. Although he jacked off to the memory of him. Even though he got up earlier than usual to spy on Bateman as he worked out, he was The Homelander. He had sex with men before but it meant nothing, and he was always on top making all the decisions. Nothing he could do would be “gay”.
But how was he going to get Patrick into his life? Breaking into his flat seemed too aggressive. If he wanted to dissect his new friend, he had to be gentlemanly about it. Hm…
Patrick was pretty annoyed when Jean had to interrupt his important music listening session with the news that he got an invite.
“Uh—yeah what is it?” He slipped his headphones off quickly, looking up at his secretary standing in the doorway.
Jean was a bit smiley, going over to his desk and setting the envelope on the expensive mahogany. “It’s from Vought .” She was pretty curious to know the contents, but knew not to stick around too long around Patrick.
Patrick opened up the letter neatly as he could, and oh, the expensive stationary was impressive. The bone color, the font, impressions, it was like someone made it specially for him. It was an invite to Starlights live debut, where she’d be introduced on stage as a new member of The Seven.
Patrick blinked in surprise reading the news. Why would he get an invite? Was probably some random draw between him and some other chumps. But there was also an after-party? He felt his heart swell with some kind of pride. I mean, of course he’d be invited. If it was just going to see Starlight in person, he probably wouldn’t have gone.
Seeing some wide-eyed rabbit he wasn’t allowed to eat wasn’t of interest. But an after-party would be great to scope out any pond scum that needed to be removed from the gene pool. Then Patrick remembered. With all the security Vought had, he couldn’t just be seen with a woman that’d turn up missing later. He could just take a few pictures to brag about, drink, then leave.
Fine, he was going.
His eyes traveled to the bottom of the paper, and saw the signature that made his hand shake. It was signed by The Homelander? He got an autograph from arguably the best hero out of any of the posers, and it was also great for bragging rights.
Patrick reached to phone Jean. “Jean, I’m gonna need you to reschedule..” He started.
Homelander was delighted to know that Patrick had come to the after-party, only filled with the socialites and elites of the state. Pat had to hate it, and so did Homelander, he loved that they had much in common. The supe had to brush off some people, his sharp eyes only looking for the man he needed. He did have Ashley organize this party just to get him close, after all.
Then he saw Patrick, and his heart rate spiked at the sight. He was standing there next to some woman, talking to her, probably a new potential victim. Patrick’s hair was perfectly done, and the black tailored suit that Homelander wanted to rip off clung to him perfectly. Everything about him was perfect, even that predatory look in his eyes as he was talking to this bimbo. The look she didn’t catch, but of course he did, because he actually was interested in Patrick. Homelander bitterly thought she’d only be interested in him for shallow reasons, he should just let Patrick bite her head off when he was done mating. But the supe knew Patrick couldn’t attract more attention.
Besides, he was here for him . His little present.
“How you guys doing? Enjoying the party?” Homelander grinned as he greeted the two, hands on his hips. Patrick’s eyes shot over to him, annoyed at first but then surprised. God, Bateman was taller in person.
“It’s okay.” Patrick took a sip of his drink. He was somehow not fangirling out as everyone who met Homelander did. It made the supes eyebrows raise.
“Oh my god, Homelander, I’m a big f-“ The woman started but the man didn’t pay her any mind.
“Just okay?” Homelander chuckled, keeping his boy scout facade while Patrick kept his cool demeanor.
Patrick shrugged a little in a ‘what can you do’ way.
“What’s your name?” Homelander raised an eyebrow.
“Patrick Bateman.” Patrick gave a gentle smile, which the supe knew was fake. He wanted a real smile soon, even if he had to squeeze it out of him. “I’ve got a business card if you want it.” He chuckled in amusement. He actually asked instead of just automatically giving it, which made Homelander genuinely chuckle. The man knew subconsciously to not offend the supe.
“Actually yes. May I?” Homelander asked, while the woman next to Patrick was slinking out of sight for another drink. Patrick’s eyebrows raised, whenever he looked surprised he looked so cute to the supe.
“Oh, well, here.” Patrick chuckled in disbelief, reaching into his pocket. He couldn’t believe a superhero wanted his card, for what? Probably just being polite. He liked looking at that smile, it looked real. He handed the card to the red glove, then the blond whistled as he took a gander at it.
“My my, you have great taste. Compliments to the chef.” Homelander smiled and tucked the card away into his chest flap.
“Um, thank you.” Patrick had a somewhat shaky smile, trying not to get paranoid suddenly as to why a superhero wanted his information. He then suddenly felt a hand snake behind his back. What was this?
“Say, Bateman. The party’s boring? Come upstairs with me. Not so boring up there.” The hero happily suggested, but it was more like an order. Patrick froze a bit and blinked in confusion, what was going on? Well, being so up and close with Homelander of all people would be a cool bragging right. It was like meeting the president.
“..okay.” Patrick nodded a little, Homelander grinning. He patted his back enthusiastically and chuckled. “Good! That’s what I thought you’d say.” He praised as if talking to a puppy, it made Bateman flustered. He led Patrick over to the elevator, hand still on his back. The lingering touch was getting his heart rate up, starting to feel hot under his collar. He was touching him so much already.
Homelander finally let his hand fall when they got in the elevator, going and putting in his card to access his room. The ride up was too long to not make conversation.
“Catch the new G-Men movie?” Homelander wanted to slap himself with the terrible opener.
“No.” Patrick replied curtly, another beat of silence.
“Good to see Starlight in person? Hope she made a good first impression.” Homelander gave a polite smile.
“..she’s alright. I’m actually not into the whole uh, superhero stuff.” Patrick mumbled.
“You’re not?” Homelander tsked and fake frowned. “That’s disappointing to hear. But, out of all The Seven, who’s your favorite?” He went back to smiling immediately. Patrick glanced down at him and back at the doors. “You, I suppose.” He replied. Homelanders golden eagle shoulder gently and playfully bumped into his, cape swaying as he did.
“Thank you.” Homelander nodded and looked back at the doors, his eyes watching Patrick’s reflection in the steel. “Just what about me makes me your favorite?” He hummed and tilted his face towards the other. Patrick was almost expecting the supe to press the stop button, press him into the corner and squeeze more compliments out of him. Homelander did want that. Patrick just kept watching the red numbers ding further up as they ascended.
“..well, you’re very uh..” Patrick stammered softly, trying to think as the blue eyes stared at him. “You see people for who they are. You take care of trash. You’re a true advocate for the American man.” He listed as the blond nodded.
Homelander was tempted to say “I see you for who you are” but didn’t need to move so fast.
“Well here’s our stop!” Homelander announced after hearing a ding.
They stepped off and the supe led Patrick to the room, who Bateman was expecting to be filled with other people. He knew supes would have coked out orgies too, no one on this planet was immune from degeneracy. But when Homelander opened that grand door, it was still inside.
There was no one else but them. Familiar music was playing softly over the speakers set up, Phil Collins? There were marble statues, furniture even more expensive than Patricks, and a view of the city to die for. The lights were warm and dim, and there was a dinner table. Looked like it belonged more to a restaurant than someone’s kitchen. Two covered plates sitting opposite to each other. It looked more like a romantic evening than something exciting. Oh god was Homelander coming onto him? Of course he was, how could Patrick be so stupid?
There had better be coke lines on the plates than food, otherwise, he’d have to excuse himself and burn the suit Homelander just touched.
Patrick just stood there, a little stunned.
“I could’ve gotten us a table at Dorsia, but this was more intimate. After dinner, I’ll give you a tour.” Homelander walked over to a seat, then smiled as he held it out for Patrick to sit on. “Well?” His hand presented it, waiting for the man.
Patrick kept staring for a second, before slowly walking over. “..thank you.” He mumbled, eyes darting around some more. “Let me get that for you.” Homelanders hands took Batemans overcoat, making him flinch, then went to drape it over the back of his chair. The man sat down rigidly, while Homelander walked over to his own seat and sat himself down after lifting his cape to the side. He pinched the tips of his gloves and set them neatly to the side, then laid his cloth napkin on his lap.
“But, this is better than Dorsias. I have the best cooks, I assure you. And drink as much as you want, loosen up!” Homelander saw that Patrick didn’t touch the wine glass, when he’d normally drink at any social event.
“Uh huh…” Patrick’s eyes glanced around a bit at the table, not making contact with Homelanders. “It’s just..” his hands touched the table. “I'm not a homosexual.” He tried to shrug casually, pressing his lips into a thin line. Homelander could hear his heart thrashing around.
“What, and you think I am?” The supe cocked an eyebrow, smile dropping. That made the man’s heart run faster.
Bateman looked at him as if he was trying to scope out if this was a trick question, eyes narrowing.
“..No.” He answered.
Homelander smiled softly then looked down at the plate, removing its cover. The aroma filled Patrick’s nose, and he realized he hadn’t eaten yet.
“It’s just, I’ve already eaten.” Patrick tried to say.
“No you haven’t.” Homelander deadpanned.
Patrick was slowly feeling like he wanted to tuck his head into his shell.
“Remove your cloche. Why not try it? Or I’ll get offended. I mean, Americas hero invited you all the way to his room to have dinner with him and you won’t even-“
“Okay. I’ll eat. But my fiancé won’t like that I’ve spoiled my appetite, she’s expecting me, I have dinner with her in an hour.”
“No you don’t.” Homelander chuckled at another weak excuse to get out of his flat early. He was trying to make the dinner and later sex as consensual as possible but Patrick was making this hard.
Patrick was frozen as he was staring back into Homelanders piercing blue eyes. Was he calling his bluff or did he actually know he was lying?
“Listen, Bateman. I’m just asking for one thing, stay with me tonight. You won’t regret it, it’s in your best interest.” Homelander waved his hand a little, then stabbed a piece of lamb with his fork. Patrick felt a bit like the meat the supe was chewing on.
“This isn’t a date?” Patrick slowly picked up his fork and knife, his brain trying to work out why he’d be here otherwise. He slowly cut and started to chew, the food was great but his tastebuds couldn’t distract him from this situation.
“I’m sure we’re both straight as arrows.” Homelander scoffed a little, then went to take another bite. “This lamb is divine. How does it compare to human?” The line made Patrick choke on his food, coughing and staring down at the plate as he cleared his airway.
“Careful Bateman. Lucky you’re in the presence of a superhero while you choked.” Homelander chuckled, while Patrick nervously glanced up at him and gulped. He grabbed his wine and took a couple of gulps, eyes catching the exit in his peripheral. He set down the glass and cleared his throat, while the supe wasn’t really eating anymore, just staring him down.
“..Funny joke!” Patrick knew that this must’ve been some kind of sting, a setup. Detective Kimball knew it was him and Homelander brought him here to get him to confess, if this wasn’t a date. He walked into the lions den, and he just got his DNA on the fucking wine glass.
“Not a joke, I’m curious, genuinely.” Homelanders eyes pierced into Patrick’s soul. Patrick couldn’t help but break into a sweat under his collar, his palms were getting clammy quickly as he was wondering if he should just get up and leave. He wasn’t under arrest, but he wasn’t stupid, Homelander could do what he wanted. The place was probably bugged, he should just keep denying it. Homelander could see the gears turning in the man’s head in such a short amount of time. He should probably lighten things up, keep Patrick from fleeing.
“Bateman, c'mon.” Homelander smiled, his canines showing as if he was going to bite into Patrick right then. “If I was going to turn you in, I would’ve done so by now. Turning in someone like you wouldn’t even really be my preference anyway, I would’ve just killed you and left you on the street.” He tsked, Patrick continuing to stare and sweat like a sinner before a god. And he was, a murderer, cannibal, and adulterer, looking at a superior being and the face of justice.
“Seems like we both have little secrets Bateman. To tell you the truth..” Homelander leaned over the table a little. “ I like watching you .” He whispered as if someone would overhear. That made Patrick’s heart skip a little, the supe could hear it and savored the sound like a stone thrown across a pond. “So keep up the good work.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled.
Patrick was stunned hearing this, it had to be some sort of trick.
“Are you recording this or..?” His eyes glanced around frantically again for anything recording.
“I’m not wearing a wire, I’ll prove it to you later huh?” Homelander winked, but that just made Patrick panic even more. He took the napkin off his lap and clapped his hands, then stood up. “Since you don’t feel like eating. Let’s take that tour, hm?” He didn’t put his gloves back on, something Patrick quickly picked up. Patrick could remember how when he lured his prey home, he usually would pull on his gloves. But Homelander was taking his off. He wanted to feel Patrick, he knew this.
“Um. I think I’d better be going.” Patrick stood up from the table, then was joined by Homelander.
“Why?” Homelanders boots clicked against the floor as he slowly stalked over to Patrick. He was like a panther, slow but prideful in his walk, predatory with his head held high. His fingers lightly dragged against the cloth of the table, Patrick held his ground and kept his eyes on the supe as if he’d pounce while looking away.
“The truth?” Patrick asked. It somewhat surprised Homelander, someone offering him the truth. But of course, Patrick would give him that.
“Yes.” Homelander stopped a few feet away from the man.
“I’m nervous.” Patricks voice was smaller than he expected. His hazel eyes stared back into Homelanders blue ones, both wide and empty. “I’m afraid if I stay you’ll either rape and kill me, or just rape me and try to pay me off.” A smile tugged at the supes lips when he heard that, it was something the other man was too familiar with. It was the same one he’d have when he saw the fear on those womens faces.
“You have nothing to be afraid of.” Homelander leaned in and whispered, making a chill run down Patrick’s spine. “I’d never.. force myself onto you. Come on. We’re equals, well, close to equals.” He chuckled. Homelander was a rapist, yes, but he considered that whatever he’d do to Patrick wouldn’t be assault. He had a loose concept of consent, but he wanted the man to want this as much as possible.
“So is killing me not off the table?” Patrick could feel sweat run down his back. A stifled laugh came from the supe in response. Homelanders shoulders bounced as he chuckled and he patted on Patrick’s arm. “Pat, I already said, I’m not gonna kill you. If I did, I would’ve done it already. So loosen the hell up , will you?” His smile got stiff, his bare hand lingering on the fabric on Patrick’s arm and gently petting him.
“Then what do you want from me?” Patrick’s face and voice were like stone.
Homelander paused. He tilted his head and gently squeezed Patrick’s shoulder. “A friend.”
Patrick paused too, his brain spinning in circles before he started to nervously chuckle. “A friend? Me?”
“Why not?” Homelander eased his grip and let his hand fall back to his side. “We have a lot in common.” He didn't give Patrick a chance to ask what, his hand returned to the other man’s body and pressed against his lower back. “Sure you’re a..human.” Homelander waved that fact off with his other hand. “But friends show each other everything, know every little detail. I know everything about you, so let me show you some of me.” He guided Patrick away from the table, like a shepherd pulling his lamb with a crook.
The blond could hear his heart beating quickly, not letting up even with Homelanders kindness and offer of friendship. Patrick didn’t need friends in the real sense of the word, everyone was terrible in his eyes. His friends were the surface-level kind, he never let anyone scratch too deep into him, and he didn't want anyone.
To have a real friend, they’d have to understand him, know the real him, which was dangerous. And Homelander knew the real him already—and Bateman knew the real him. As the supe kept talking and introducing him to his kitschy flat, showing off all his souvenirs and expensive decor he knew Patrick would like (even if he didn’t he wanted to brag anyway), Pats unease started to melt away slowly. This man was indeed, a man, not a god. With his slicked-back hair, and his arrogance, he was like every other yuppie asshole he met. Patrick shouldn’t be intimidated.
But he still jumped a little when Homelanders hand returned to his lower back, brushing on him up and down gently, as if he were a cat. “So that brings us to my bed. Impressive right?” Homelander introduced him to the bed that could hold an elephant. Batemans eyes snapped to it, he was cornered even more than before, this could only end one way. And he only realized now the supe asked him a question.
“What?” Patrick blinked.
“Something on your mind that’s more important than this? Caught you staring at me.” Homelander raised his eyebrows. Bateman didn’t even realize he was staring, he hated but loved how much the supe reminded him of him, with how scary he’d get when in predator mode. He also didn’t want to admit how handsome his smile was, but he could admit how chokable his neck was.
Patrick feigned like he was in deep thought for a second, furrowing his brow and glancing at the floor. “I was just thinking…” his voice trailed off.
“About what?” Homelander huffed impatiently.
“How desperate are you for a ‘friend’?” Patrick looked back up.
“..what?” Homelander scoffed.
“I’m not desperate for one. I could walk out if I wanted but I haven’t yet.”
“Because you’re scared.” Homelander frowned a little, was he really being tested right now?
“Not anymore, no,” Patrick replied. The supe knew he was telling the truth, his heart had slowed scarily fast. “You stalk me, and lure me into your penthouse. Try to buy me like I’m some cheap whore, scare me into staying here. You’re not quite as strong as I hoped you were.” He slowly blinked, while Homelander was blinking a bit fast. “What’s to stop me from walking out again?”
Homelander could feel an irritation bubble up in him, the corner of his mouth twitched a little. “ Me. ” He answered. “I-I could do anything I wanted to you.” He stammered, eyes glowing red with his threat.
“Then do it.” Patrick replied, making the blond freeze. They stood there in silence for a beat. He called his bluff, he wasn’t going to rip the man limb from limb, laser him or hold him down and have his way with him. Did he want that after all? Homelander was confused, no human stood up to him like this before. That’s why Patrick Bateman was so special. He couldn’t believe he just got a boner from that.
He couldn’t help himself now. Homelander jumped at Patrick, pushing him back onto the bed, easily pinning him. Any more force and he could’ve broken something with how eager he was to get at the other man. He shoved his lips against his throat and yanked his overcoat open, buttons flying, which made Patrick’s hand grip Homelanders neck quickly. “Stop.” Bateman hissed, making the supe pause and look up at him wide-eyed.
“This suit costs more than your fucking life.” Patrick’s jaw clenched with anger, his eyes narrowed and his voice dangerously calm. He didn’t care if Homelander was a superhero, no one got to ruin his clothes. His grip got tighter but wasn’t making any physical effect on the supe, but it sure was making a mental effect. “You want us to be friends? Be polite, you fucking swine.” Patrick spat.
He could feel Homelanders adams apple bob, his heart thrumming against his thumb. His blue eyes were wide. For a guy who was topping, he sure could be knocked over easily.
“..okay.” Homelander mumbled and his hands returned to pull the overcoat off, Patrick leaning up to help him. The supe returned to Batemans neck, kissing on him again as he tried to undo his tie, only to get palmed in the face and pushed away again. “Alright. I need to set boundaries. No kissing, alright? I’m not a queer.” He sighed with frustration. Homelander could feel the slight boner from underneath him that said otherwise.
“…says the man under me-“
“Because I’d rather go into this consensually than have it be more traumatic than it already is.” Patrick rolled his eyes, then looked back at Homelander who was looking slightly solemn. Sure, he wanted to sleep with Pat that night no matter what, but he didn’t like being reminded that this wasn’t a passionate embrace. “Did you actually think I’d want you? You’re disgusting. Even if you weren’t a fag, you’d still be so.” Those words caused a pang in Homelanders heart, and made his dick throb.
“..what do you want then?” Homelander was breathless, staring down into Patrick, his hands white knuckling the sheets.
“What I want..” Patrick’s voice went quiet too, leaning his face closer so that he was nose to nose with the supe, two dogs staring each other down for dominance. “Is to wrap my hands around your neck and squeeze til you drop. I want to feel the blood rush out from you onto me. If you didn’t have powers, I would’ve made it happen by now.” Homelanders dick was twitching and throbbing even harder, and so was Patrick’s.
“Ouch.” Homelander mumbled, getting more and more tempted to close the distance between his and Patrick’s lips. But he respected his wishes. His hands returned to Patrick’s tie, clumsily trying to get it off, his cheeks increasingly getting red with his struggle since he’d never have to deal with ties. Patrick was just staring up at him, unimpressed. Homelander licked his lips as he pulled the tie off. The supe started to unbutton Patrick’s dress shirt, his heart skipping as he saw the other man’s clavicle, then his toned chest.
He could hear the rabbit-like heart rate beneath it, Patrick wore his poker face well but underneath was getting both nervous and aroused from what was happening.
Homelander tossed the shirt aside on the bed, then quickly went for Patrick’s pants as the man under him kicked off his shoes. “Well well.” The supe hummed seeing Patrick’s boner still under his briefs, then palmed it, a small noise rumbled in Patrick’s throat and he arched his back slightly. “I thought you weren’t gay? Usually, when I have gay men under me they’re aroused.” He teased.
“It’s just a natural reaction.” Patrick lied bitterly. His face got a bit flushed as Homelander began to almost massage his dick, he cleared his throat to cover up any noise that would’ve come out. “Take it out. I’m sure you’ve seen it plenty of times, if you spied on me.” He ordered.
Homelander hadn’t realized yet that this was the most he’d been bossed around in bed by someone that wasn’t Stillwell. He had seen Patrick naked before, he even used his X-ray vision on him, but having the real deal in front of him was different. The supe hesitated slightly before pulling off the white briefs, fleeing Batemans cock, leaving him completely naked and vulnerable. Homelanders breath caught in his throat at the sight before him, Patrick almost looked like a deity in the supes eyes.
“You’re staring.” Patrick blinked, watching Homelanders glazed-over-with-arousal eyes rake over him. “Focus.” He hand grabbed the face above him, a bit frustrated things weren’t moving as fast as he wanted now. Homelander snapped out of it and his blue eyes gazed into the hazel ones, wide. “..undress.” Patrick ordered, then saw a slight look of insecurity wash over the mighty supe.
“..Hah. I thought you weren’t-“
“Friends should know everything. Every little detail. You’ve seen me, now I want to see you.” Patrick said matter of factly, then let go of Homelander and let himself sit up. The blonds mouth felt dry, the moisture traveling under his suit to make him sweat. He was really going to show his soft underbelly to a human, but it should be worth it. It was Patrick Bateman.
Homelander hesitated a few more seconds before his hands traveled to his blue suit. It was a moment of clicking and zipping, but he was now peeling it off and letting the entire thing fall off him like a snake shed. Patrick stared the entire time, Homelander couldn’t decipher what he was thinking. He never really knew what he was thinking most of the time he watched him anyway.
Homelander sat between Patrick’s legs, now naked, then let out a heavy sigh. He put on a smile, watching the hazel eyes roam over his body, which was less toned than Batemans.
“Padded muscles.” The brunet pointed out, then his hand snaked around to the nape of Homelanders neck. “ All of you superheroes really are pathetic.” He mumbled. Homelanders lips were pressed into a thin line as he leaned into Patrick’s touch, he could feel a bead of precum form on the tip of his dick despite such harsh words. He immediately pushed Bateman to lay back down, the man trying to pull him close, then paused.
“Aren’t you going to use a condom?” Patrick snapped a little. He cringed at the thought of being came inside of , especially by another man who probably got around with a bunch of other men. Even though Patrick picked up prostitutes many times too. “No. I’m clean, though I should be asking if you are. Hold on.” Homelander snorted with amusement, pulling away much to Pats dismay, grabbing a bottle of lube out of the discarded suit near him. Patrick didn’t look pretty jazzed, still impatient as the supe readjusted him like a rag doll to face his ass better. As much as Homelander wanted to ram himself in immediately, he didn’t need Patrick bleeding all over his sheets.
After smearing the lube onto Patrick, Homelander went to sink his finger into him down to the knuckle. The man under him jumped a little and cursed under his breath, then the supe immediately pushed another one in, making Patrick hiss out. “W-what are you..” Patrick stammered, looking down at the hand near his ass. “This is so it hurts less. You don’t want me to hurt you, do you?” Homelander quirked an eyebrow. “I want you to get it over with.” Patrick spat, making the supe withdraw as quickly as he went in. “Alright…” the hand moved up to a thigh, grabbing it, along with Homelanders other hand finding Patrick’s other leg.
Homelander pushed the legs in his hands towards the chiseled chest under him. “You’re so flexible.” Homelander purred, getting a slight huff of embarrassment and frustration in response. “Shut up,” Patrick muttered. “Just do i— iiit!” His hazel eyes snapped open from their narrowed resting place, the blond above him having pushed in halfway already. “H-hh!” Patricks eyes fluttered, his jaw clenching as he tried to muffle all the noises trying to escape him. “Nn-! Hh, aah, Jesus fucking Christ..” he sputtered and panted, eyes staring up at the ceiling in shock.
Homelander licked his lips watching Patrick’s expression, watching his mouth go slack slowly and his chest heave. The heat around him was so tight, he was definitely Batemans first cock. That thought made him slam the rest of himself in, making the man under him whine out loudly and squirm. “H-unnh fuck!” Patrick whined like one of the pornstars he’d watch in the videos he used as white noise, it made the supes cock twitch hard.
“What’s wrong?” Homelander chuckled heatedly, watching the usually so aloof man unravel under him. “Thought you wanted me to get it over with.” He started to move his hips in a slow rhythm, but hard, slapping filling the air along with the soft music from his speakers. Patrick gasped with each thrust, his hands scrambling for the sheets, trying to brace himself as the cock inside him kept brushing into his gspot easily. The pain of having to adjust to a large dick—and his first one, was quickly being overtaken by pleasure.
“Sh- shut , haah, up—fuck..” Patrick’s eyes were getting half-lidded, glazed over with pleasure. He gulped and tried to remain stoic again, but couldn’t help when the loud whimpering rose from his throat.
“ Bateman..” Homelander purred almost like a jungle cat, his hips continuing at a pace that was torturous for them both. “I wanna hear you, please.” He added the please like the cherry on top of a sundae he served Patrick, only to get it smacked onto the floor.
“Fuck you, you’ll have to earn it.” Patrick hissed through clenched teeth. Homelander blinked, then accepted the challenge. He slammed his hips down, making the other man cry out, then picked up the pace, louder slaps like music in the air.
“F- ff—“ Patrick had the urge to throw himself into the other man, bite him and scratch him like a wild animal as Homelander was fucking him like one. But it wouldn’t do any good, his skin was steel. He gripped the sheets harder instead, his moans spilling out his mouth uncontrollably now. Patrick was getting delirious, this was a high he never felt having sex with anyone before, he only felt it when murdering. Oh god, he was being ruined.
He felt possessed when he barked “Harder” at Homelander. He was demanding cock now, he hated that fucking smug look on the supes face, watching Patrick’s defeat. He jumped when he felt the other man’s hand wrap around his length and start to pump, it was almost in rhythm with the thrusts.
“You, haah, look fucking, mm, amazing,” Homelander whispered, licking his lips. “Better than I imagined..” Patrick soaked up the compliments like a sponge, it only increased the high he was getting. “You’re doing good..cmon..” The supe spotted how wet Patrick was getting, precum dribbling onto his stomach.
“M- m-mo-ore..” Patrick choked out. Homelander didn’t know what he wanted more of, so he gave all of it to him.
“You look so fucking sexy like this…” Homelander licked over his fangs, he wished he could shove his finger into Patrick’s trap and be bled by him, but unfortunately he was a supe. Patrick didn’t even look lucid as he was getting pounded into the bed, hair now tussled, drool running down his chin and eyes trying not to roll back. He arched his back and came hard onto his bouncing chest, that being the shortest he ever lasted with another person.
“Good boy, good boy.” Homelander purred, he leaned down and slid his tongue over the sweat and cum covered tits. Patrick trembled and was still reeling from his orgasm, but didn’t even have a chance to catch his breath as the supe was still fucking him. His moans were pathetic and whiney, the supe expected the human to beg him to stop and slow down, like all the others.
“ More.” Patrick begged.
Homelander bit his lip and felt his heart skip, yes, this was the right man for him.
Homelander woke up to the sound of Patrick putting on his shoes. He was sat at the edge of the bed, having already managed to put his clothes back on, smelled like he had taken a shower and he fixed up his hair. The thought of Patrick just leaving, without saying goodbye, or even asking to leave in the first place ticked him off. And now it was actually happening, he was trying to slip out from his fingers.
“..Where do you think you’re going?” Homelander piped up, making Patrick pause and turn his head around, both annoyed.
“I have work.” Patrick replied, then stood up and smoothed out his shirt.
“Call off. We both know you don’t even do anything, your father practically owns the company.” Homelander sat up, still naked in bed as he watched the man before him checking his watch. Patrick was really trying not to be annoyed with the supes clinginess, if Homelander wanted clingy back, then Bateman would just roll cling wrap over his head. “I mean, this isn’t just a one night stand. I don’t want this to be some fling, you know that.” The supe furrowed his brow, God, men were just as annoying to Patrick after sex as women were.
“It's not,” Patrick grumbled, readjusting his tie. “I’m not gone forever, you know where to find me.” He stepped away from the bed before feeling fingers ghost his arm. “So I take it you’ll let me visit you during work?” Homelander teased. He could see it now, bending Patrick over his desk and watching him try his best to be quiet, or under his desk sucking him off while he pretended to work.
“I’ll take it you’ll get the attention of the police off me?” Patrick pulled his arm away.
“..yes, of course I will. What are friends for?” Homelander nodded, while Patrick kept avoiding eye contact with him. The supe thought it was annoying yet cute how distant and cold he was trying to be, to make up for the fact he was begging for another man’s cock last night. Patrick just felt disgusted , with himself and the superhero. But he couldn’t allow himself to vomit and have a breakdown right there in front of him.
He was taken advantage of, he wasn’t thinking right that night. Homelander probably drugged him with the wine, it had to be why he offered himself without a fight. He wasn’t well. He wasn’t a faggot, he was straight, right? The soreness plaguing Patrick’s ass that he hid so well, like a wounded animal, told a different story. One of him going at it all night with another man, begging for more. He shuddered at the memory.
“I’m on top next time.” Patrick affirmed without asking Homelander.
He heard a scoff, then silence. “..yeah yeah, alright.”
Would Homelander let him top? Both weren’t sure.
But Homelander was giddy that Patrick wanted there to be a next time.