Chapter Text
When Ashley told you you were up a massive 44% uptick in the LGBTQ community, Homelander must’ve gotten a boner, you’d recognize that facial expression anywhere. But that immediately deflated when she told him he was down 20 points with his fanbase—but then up again when he was told he was up for once in the LGBTQ too.
Homelander again didn’t have to wear a rainbow flag or anything for Pride month, some people actually liked you two together.
Good. His lips ticked up in a smile and he felt himself preening already. This meeting wasn’t gonna be some annoying waste of time like always after all.
Your eyebrows were a little raised with surprise, your head swiveled toward Homelander for his reaction—and he was already giving you a smug smile, and you could nearly read his mind. You see? They love you, they love us, and they’re always going to. You’re silly to worry about anything. He was right, as always, you were silly to worry about anything those empty-headed peons had to say.
Then, everyone at the V-shaped table heard The Deep clear his throat.
“Just so everyone knows, I’m—I’m bi.” He smiled as if announcing that he got some promotion from ass kisser to ass licker. Ashley looked around awkwardly and raised her eyebrows, a smile still frozen on her face. Bi for what? Humans and fish?
“Yeah?” She huffed, trying to see if he’d say anything else. Deep just sat back in his chair, he glanced around while Homelander bore holes into him for daring to take away from your moment.
“Just..just saying, yknow.” Deep gave a breathy chuckle and shrugged. “Since Maeve’s a lesbian—“ you heard Maeve groan. “And Homelander has a boyfriend now, I just thought everyone should know..” his voice slowly started to trail off once he realized Homelander was giving him an uncomfortable stare.
“Yeah, no ones gonna give a shit. Maybe if A-Train and Black Noir miraculously come out too.” Ashley sighed, and you could see Black Noir perk up a little bit—while A-Train and Maeve just looked like they wanted the topic to be done with.
You could remember the day Homelander helped you come out to the team after you came out on social media. Deep already saw your Instagram and liked it about five seconds after you posted, he was always on his phone. ‘Just so you know, I totally support the transgenders, did you know clownfish can change their sex? Animals don’t judge each other because of that, humans should get with the program yknow?’ You remembered him saying. Maeve was the most relaxed about it, even if she didn’t like you too much. A-Train was the most surprised, and had the most questions—but was cut off by your boyfriend telling him to let you relax. Black Noir said nothing and nodded, like usual..but this time, he gave a thumbs up. Outside of Homelander, he was the closest thing you had to a friend on the team..with Starlight having left. She did take the time to send you a huge fucking text about how she’s happy for you.
But it’s not like any of them could object, or misgender you, or act out in any other rude way. Homelander stood behind you loyally the entire time, staring them down and smiling like an attack dog. Of course there were gonna be awkward slip-ups, but everyone seemed to immediately clam up while correcting themselves, even when Homelander wasn’t around. You didn’t seem to notice much beforehand, but people were actually intimidated by you, even if you were more polite than your boyfriend. Perhaps it was because you were dating Homelander? Your powers? Your status, even without your boyfriend..? You liked it anyway, reveled in the feeling and would smirk.
If only your parents were like that. You still haven’t contacted them after that string of hateful voicemails your mom sent. They seemed to sure be silent to the media about their approval—instead of crying or disowning you publicly, they seemed to be more ashamed.
You still weren’t coping that well with it all, and of course, still had to make sure Homelander wouldn’t go after your mom and dad. Not like they deserved sparing, but you didn’t wanna waste more energy on them.
But what did help you cope was seeing how far your body was coming along, Homelander seemed more excited than you.
“You smell different now.” He hummed, nose buried in the crook of your neck.
“Oh? Hope I don’t smell bad..” you smiled. Homelander was very happy you were cuddling him instead of that shark toy you conveniently lost after putting it in the laundry hamper—it turned up with weird white stains after you used it as a leg pillow for a while. Typical. Homelander feigned innocence, but you knew how he couldn’t help himself sometimes.
“Not bad, just different.” He mumbled and traced his lips along your jugular, making you shiver and chuckle.
He smelled the change first, though when you first caught it—you thought you smelled horrible. But he loved to push his nose under your chin, crook of your neck, between your legs, even if it was damn embarrassing. Ugh, how much fucking sweat was your body gonna produce in one training session? At least your new suit was breathable, with no padding as requested. The amount of muscle you were putting on was pretty fast, now that you were on T, a new diet and exercise plan.
‘As long as you’re not bigger than me.’ Homelander always teased as he helped spot you during bench presses, but you knew he’d have no problem if you turned out bigger. He already loved your voice dropping, even if it was just a few months along. You had to tell him to ease up on the nicknames, since using champ, slugger, handsome, and tiger every other sentence was riling your praise kink up—but he knew what he was doing.
He still insisted on giving you your injections. You thought it was cute to have a little helper, but it was fucking relieving to have someone else do your shots for you. Even if you could just get a doctor to do it..it felt better this way.
And then, your top surgery date came. You felt like it was a dream, you were pinching yourself a million times…nope, still awake. Your followers wished you luck, and Homelander was gonna be by your side the entire time. ‘Of course I’m gonna be your nurse. In sickness and health, right?’ He huffed petulantly when you suggested you have an actual nurse help you post-op. Already saying his wedding vows, you had him wrapped around your finger and it made your heart flutter. Homelander thought it was ridiculous you were even surprised at the thought, you’d never be a burden to him. He’d always be by your side, even if you were gonna say no.
It took enough tranquilizer to take out an elephant to knock you out. When you came to, you were drowsy in your hospital bed, a bit disoriented. The fluorescent lights shone brighter than usual, the drugs in your system were metabolizing quickly, blankets upon blankets were piled on top of you and your throat was so dry.
“Hey sleeping beauty.” That handsome voice purred from your bedside. You turned your head and like a prince from a storybook, the owner of the voice leaned down to kiss you—but was promptly blocked by your hand.
“Nuh. Don’ touch me. My boyfriend won’t be happy seein’ you like this.” You slurred as you tried to push the blonde away. Homelander paused and laughed. At least he knows that even with you inebriated, you’re loyal.
“I’m your boyfriend.” He smiled, and your eyes shot wide open in surprise. Yes, The Homelander was your actual boyfriend, and you weren’t hallucinating those last couple of years. He ignored your shock to lean down and kiss you properly, smiling against your lips and brushing noses—you were too surprised to kiss back, red-faced and clutching your blankets.
But no time to dwell on that shocking fact, your nurse was back in the room and explaining to Homelander how to empty your drains. Ah, he had to be having a PR dream, taking care of his boyfriend after surgery—the perfect partner.
You didn’t remember what else you were babbling when Homelander was chatting with the nurse and your surgeon…probably for the best, you didn’t wanna cringe later. You’ve seen those wisdom teeth videos on YouTube, but thankfully, your boyfriend never brought it up. Your memory was pretty blurred, but you remember having to get wheeled back up to you and Homelanders penthouse. He wanted to carry you up the whole way, but there would be too much jostling apparently.
You were pretty impatient with how your healing factor wasn’t kicking in as fast as you wanted it to be, and how you couldn’t take a shower for a while..Homelander kept insisting he didn’t mind though, giving you sponge baths and scratching your back whenever it itched.
At first, it felt like someone was stepping on your chest, and your meds had a high enough dosage to kill a human. Downsides of metabolizing shit fast, you guess. But after a few days, it didn’t hurt so much anymore—especially when Homelander was curled up by your side every night, practically purring like a cat. He had to have some sort of healing factor.
Homelander would watch you as you slept, slack-jawed and drooling as you slept on your back all day—limbs splayed and twitchy. You’d feel kisses on your cheeks, he’d fix your hair for you and still think you were the most gorgeous thing in the world. (Even though he liked to wake you up with something ‘special’, you had to tell him no, even if it would make you feel better)
“Healings going well.” Homelander eyed you in your baggy, unbuttoned flannel shirt. You weren’t waddling around anymore and your back was straightening, good signs. The supe was constantly using his x-ray vision to check under your bandages, and he loved the sight.
“Guess this means you’ll be getting back to work now..” you mumbled as you stepped out of your bunny slippers. You kicked up your feet as you carefully sat on the pristine white couch, you still felt anything but clean and proper. “Is Ashley nagging you again?”
“I told her to fuck off. I’m taking care of you, remember?” Homelander stalked over, his star-spangled robe hung off him almost like a cape. Since he wasn’t doing much hero work or stepping out, it meant he finally wasn’t wearing his suit like you asked him to—but some briefs and a robe instead. As much as you loved his naked form, you told him to wear something. “Christ, can’t I take care of someone I love?” He tsked.
“‘In sickness and health’, yeah, I know..I just—“
“You’re not a burden.” Homelander said sternly. “It’s my duty as your boyfriend and as a hero to be by your side. I’ve been by your side every step of the way.”
“We’re not married, you don’t have to. I can take care of myself now.” You mumbled into your hand. He already took care of you enough when you were depressed, you didn’t wanna seem needy—
“Well, maybe we should be.”
Your heart caught in your throat and your eyes widened, you looked up at Homelanders smug face. He shrugged and looked away as if he just didn’t drop a bombshell, he loved to listen to the pitter-patter of your heart and see how much blood rushed to your cheeks.
“W-what?” You blinked.
“Married. It’s been long enough.”
“W-well not for me!” You sputtered, trying to seem like you objected but he knew you were swooning over the idea—could even tell there was some blood rushing down south already from this conversation. “It—it should be a few years, yknow, I heard that it should be..”
“Who cares? We love each other, we already know that. We don’t need a waiting period.” Homelander rolled his eyes and snorted. “And I’m not proposing, just suggesting, don’t worry.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead.
“..don’t worry?” Whenever Homelander said that, it meant definitely worry.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not the type to get cold feet, you know that.” Homelander left it at that, leaving you in stunned silence while he went to make you breakfast (he started cooking now, just for you though). You thought about it…but then had to stop thinking about it. The image of you with a ring on your finger, one under Homelanders glove too, marking you as his husband kept making you so giddy you could cry.
When your bandages came off, you pretty much did cry. Finally, you felt perfect, whole and complete—Homelander just then understood how much this meant for you when he saw your eyes shine with tears.
“Hm, are those pecs I see?” Homelander mumbled against your bare chest, nosing along and kissing your fast-healing scars.
“Guess all those bench presses paid off.” You were both tangled up in bed, you watched his bare fingers slide along the silvery scars that ran along your pecs. His dark lashes opened lazily and blue eyes were focused on a nipple, you could practically see him salivating—but you had to warn him off. The horror stories of nipples falling off post-op made you shudder, and you knew his mouth was like a black hole.
One hand slowly petted his soft, blond hair and ran fingers through his undercut—making his lashes flutter like butterfly wings and a little moan vibrated against you. When you reached down and slowly intertwined your fingers with his, he leaned up and pressed his lips into yours. You felt like you could just freeze time and stay in this moment forever, never leave. This was pure bliss.
When Homelander pulled away, there was a glint of silver on your ring finger. Of course, instead of just asking, he put it on your finger while you were distracted. You didn’t have any words to speak, eyes were glued to the ring—a design you loved.
“I’ll do a real proposal later, for the cameras.” Your fiancée mumbled as he locked his fingers with yours again, just to feel that ring against his skin too. “I’ll take your silence as a yes. Am I right?”
You hesitated before realizing what words he just said, then nodded. He grinned, and your lips smashed against the others.
“Good boy .”