Chapter Text
Homelander was very fond of Black Noir, hell, he’d even say he loved the bastard.
He was loyal, more than anyone of those jerkoffs in The Seven. He was quiet, he never spoke back. He did what was needed, and Homelander loved it.
Noir was the longest-lasting member of The Seven, next to Homelander of course. When they first met he wasn’t sure what to think of him. Sure he was apart of Payback, and he admired that, but he’d retired since his little accident. He had disappeared from public view, no one saw him since he joined The Seven at the same time as Homelander. Back when Homelander was called The Homelander, and a bit of a Payback fanboy.
They shook hands, both firm. But Noirs hand lingered a second longer than needed. And was a bit too firm.
Homelander could hear Noirs heart pick up, something that broke his stoic character.
“It’ll be an honor working with you.” Homelander gave a friendly smile.
Nothing came from Black Noirs’ mouth. He just turned and left.
Okay, asshole.
Homelander guessed that Noir was one of those divas that didn’t like sharing a spotlight, weird since he was apart of a team before. But no, he just never spoke to anyone.
Homelander eventually chalked it up to the accident fucking up his brain or his vocal cords. He did feel guilty about this for a while but, he liked it, the silence. But it was worrying to him, why have a cripple on The Seven?
He was old and out of practice, or so Homelander thought. Black Noir was still a vicious and efficient fighter, maybe even better than in his heyday.
Black Noir moved like butter when Homelander watched him train. It was like watching porn, he truly deserved his spot next to The Homelander. Years had gone by, and he never left. Truly not just a loyal coworker, but a best friend. He truly reminded Homelander of himself in a way, how well he fought, how he didn’t take shit from anyone beneath him…
It was a plus having him on the team from a PR stance, diversity was what America liked now. Having a man with brain damage on The Seven was a good card to pull.
Maybe because for the longest time Homelander couldn’t fucking see him.
Noirs mask was lined with zinc. He couldn’t see through to his face with x-ray vision. His room he couldn’t see into either. It’s not like Homelander was a pervert trying to creep on Noir (he was) he just wanted to know his friend better.
Why was he keeping secrets? From his captain?
He never brought it up before, but he should.
They were both sat in Homelanders extravagant flat, Noir was listening to whatever he was venting about this time. He was a shoulder to cry on, even as he sat silent and unmoving most of the time.
“Fucking ridiculous.” Homelander muttered into his glove. Of course, he was still suited up when this was his off time, they both were, even if he was most comfortable around Noir.
“He has a vendetta against me because his wife cheated?” He sighed in frustration. “I’ve been nothing but nice to him before all this bullshit. It’s not my fault she chose me. And now he’s trying to take me down, take us down.” He looked up at the black-suited man across from him, who was sipping on a coke through a straw and his mask. Surely it can’t be tasty given that even the mesh was lined with zinc, but he was a supe he could handle it.
“Don’t even know why she’d marry that.” Homelander scoffed. “Fucking delusional. But now that I’m getting to know her, they deserve each other..” He listened to the can slurped empty, then get crushed into a flat disc.
“Would you wanna meet my son sometime soon? You could be the fun uncle. Watch over him when I’m not there.” Homelander chuckled and looked up at Noir. The man gave a little nod in response, then tossed the can and straw into a nearby bin.
“Hah. Ugh…I think I might need to cut back on the dust. I must’ve been so high I don’t even remember fucking her..” Homelander ran his fingers through his fake blond hair. His head bowed down, forehead pressed against his palm, staring at his boots. “Or maybe she was that fucking boring!” He suddenly laughed.
“I can’t believe he was kept a secret from me. I didn’t even know I could have kids, I stopped mourning that idea. Now I have a son. And I almost missed his childhood…they know better than to keep that a secret from me.” He lifted his head back up and rested his chin on a fist.
“Speaking of secrets!” Homelander gave a smile to Black Noir, then pointed to him with both index fingers. “You’re keeping one from me.” He earned a head tilt in response.
“Don’t act all coy now, it’s fine! I mean, you want your privacy, I get it.” He kept a smile on his face. “Think I’m some gay pervert or something? Or I’ll tell the whole world your secret identity? I wouldn’t, you know me.” His smile was fading as he spoke.
“Afraid I’ll, what, run away screaming if I saw you were ‘Night of the Living Dead’ under your mask? I wouldn’t, you know I wouldn’t.” Homelander muttered, his brow furrowing as his concerned eyes turned into a glare. Black Noir didn’t react.
Homelander clapped his hands on his thighs as he rose from his chair. He stared down at Noir, the masked man looking back up at him. He imagined either sappily or blankly, he didn’t like either option.
“I don’t know how it was in Payback, but in The Seven , we don’t keep secrets from each other, huh?” Homelander whispered as he leaned down to Noir, both arms on his armrests and caging him in. Noir scribbled on his notepad without even looking down at it, then slowly went to raise it in between their two faces.
‘Calm down ’ Homelander read before slapping it out of the way, sending the pad sliding across the floor.
“No. We’re friends right?” He gave an amused chuckle. “Let’s talk! I mean you can’t talk but…” his hand went to grip Black Noirs face. Both heart rates were picking up, this was the first time Homelander had laid a hand on him like this. His fingers slowly curled to grip the mask, about to try and slide it off.
“This isn’t a big deal. Just stay still and quiet as usual.” Homelander breathed. A hand shot to his wrist, gripping it so hard he actually winced. Noir was surely fucking strong, but not as strong as Homelander. They both were frozen in time, staring at each other, daring the other to move.
“…Noir.” Homelander said quietly, like how a rattlesnake would rattle its tail in warning. “Let go.” He gave him the chance to step down, to let Homelander do as he wanted. His jaw clenched, his blue eyes piercing into Black Noirs void of a face. The supe never gave warnings to anyone else anymore, this was a privilege and quite the sign of love. Noirs grip was tightening, Homelanders was loosening.
“Okay. Fine. I’ll give you the chance to do it yourself, that’s what you want right? Bastard.” Homelander was going to back down. He let go of the mask, and tried to pull his hand away. But it didn’t budge, Black Noir kept his hold. “Noir? Stop .” His glove squeaked as he tried to squirm his hand out of place, it wasn’t much effort as he didn’t make any progress. He just wanted to show the masked man that he was letting up.
What the hell? What was the beating in his ears? Black Noirs heart rate had picked up to 130 bpm, and it was outside of battle.
Homelander gulped. He was so offended he was about to attack? He’d never known Noir to be so sensitive.
“Hah! Okay, okay. No need for things to get dicey. I’m sorry. That better?” Homelander offered an apology. He grinned, though it had a hint of nervousness. Why was he nervous?
Black Noir slowly stood from his chair, his grip staying. Homelanders smile quickly went away, he didn’t want to fight Noir but if it came to putting him in his place he would. Another hand quickly gripped Homelanders hair anyway, making him wince.
Noir was panting harder now, harder than Homelander had heard before. He wasn’t anticipating battle, he was..enjoying this.
“Okay. Um.” Homelander was frozen.
Move, move you fucking— he pleaded to himself.
Homelanders glove was slowly slid off, then discarded to the floor. His bare hand made contact with the black glove, Noirs fingers traced over his soft skin. Surprisingly soft compared to the other hand still having a vice grip on his hair. His head was being slowly pulled back now, face looking up at the ceiling. Noir watched his adams apple bob as he tried to speak again.
“Noir, I uh, think you got the wrong idea here.” Homelander chuckled nervously.
“I’m not uh, I’m not gay. I didn’t think you were either.” He continued, as if that would call off Black Noir now.
Noir leaned in closer, hot breath spreading across Homelanders throat. It gave the blond goosebumps, a chill ran up his spine. His eyes were fluttering, oh god he didn’t realize he’d craved this..it felt so comforting, weirdly. He felt unsettled though still, pins prickling on his skin, a feeling of filth rising in his body.
This shouldn’t be happening.
He wasn’t fucking gay, he never lusted after men. He did joke to himself that if he went gay once it would be because of Black Noir, but surely that was just a..joke and not a confession.
Homelander felt hot breath against the front of his throat, his breath caught in his throat-
“Fuck fuck! Get off me!” Homelander suddenly yelled out in a panic, snapping himself out of the daze he was put under. In a second, he had caught Black Noir off guard and had him shoved away. “Fucking—Christ what was that?” He shakily breathed, his brow furrowed and his bare hand running over his neck.
Noir just stared back as usual, his hands were gripped into fists. But they slowly relaxed, and his heart rate started to go back down. He seemed to snap out of the trance he was in now, then his head ducked away from Homelanders direction and looked at the floor.
“I don’t fucking like you like that. Don’t let that shit happen again okay?” Homelander kept his voice down, albeit still frustration-filled.
“Go,” Homelander ordered and bent down to pick his glove back up, hurriedly pulling it back on. He glimpsed back, seeing that Noir was watching.
“Go!” He yelled, eyes wide and voice booming through the flat.
Black Noir listened to the order, turning his back promptly and walking out.
Homelander crumbled back onto his leather couch now, just laying in stunned silence. This didn’t change things, right? No. It couldn’t. They’d still be friends, gay guys could be friends with straight ones. He wouldn’t have to beat him off with a bat every time they were alone, Noir knew he’d get put in the fucking ground if he tried something.
He couldn’t replace Noir over this, it would be a loss for him and Vought. This was just a one time thing, to be forgotten about. To be pushed deep, deep down.
Homelander barely even noticed the pressure in his groin, his suit pinning back his boner. He was too deep in thought, absentmindedly pulling off the same glove Noir did. His ears started to burn.
The touch, he wanted it again. He remembered the first time he touched Noirs hand, their first handshake. He was craving that now, the danger it carried.
As he dove deeper into thought, his teeth grazed on his fingernails. It was a habit he picked up after growing out of sucking his thumb.
Even with Black Noir being heavy-handed before, the memory of his fingers tracing Homelanders bare hand left him shivering. What if they were both gay? And it did escalate further?
Homelander deep down, just knew he’d be in good hands. Noir would treat him like the king he was, and serve him well. He could take his mask off for this occasion, and Homelander would have all of his suit and padding off. Both completely vulnerable-
Oh, he shouldn’t be thinking shit like this.
Black Noir could already hear the clicking of Homelanders nails, he knew the man inside and out.
His boots clicked as he walked further and further down the empty halls. No one was there, it was after hours. No one should be there besides guards and janitors. The clicking was loud in his ears, the clicking of Homelanders nails fading out with his boots. He was far enough from sight.
Fuck. Fuck—
Noir couldn’t hold back, he leaned against a wall and ripped off his glove. He lifted the mouth of his mask, his mouth immediately making contact with the flesh of his hand. He bit down on the thumb side of it, panting hard and hissing out. He gnawed on himself like an animal, the iron taste of blood filling his mouth.
Noir sucked down hungrily, the soft skin threatening to get ripped off with how hard he was biting down. He released his teeth, just sucking down on his thumb now, but the suction threatened to have him swallowing his own skin. He had done this so many times, he left soft scars of the evidence. He was lucky his skin damaged beyond repair now.
A guttural sound escaped his mouth, not loud enough to alert that brat down the hall.
Noir swore that Homelander was getting turned on, he didn’t peg him for liking men. Perhaps he grew a crush on him after being close after these years? So fucking funny. He was tempted to laugh, later though.
God, Noir was so close. He almost lost himself with Homelander getting so close to him like that, when he almost..he couldn’t allow that again. Not yet anyway.
Oh how badly he wanted his hand to have been Homelanders fucking throat.
Black Noir had very mixed feelings about Homelander.
He loved and hated Homelander like a drug. He needed him, he’d be nothing without him. But that ‘golden god’ ruined him.
He had seen Homelander on billboards, announcing his introduction into The Seven. Back when he was called The Homelander, and before he was..this.
When finally Noir met the golden child, the perfect man, he didn’t notice he was holding his breath. He was blond, of course he was, it was the perfect match to the blue eyes. His perfect, white smile. His boy scout-like attitude.
Noir was taken aback at first, seeing him so up close and personal. Later he realized…fucking hated all those traits on Homelander, it made him sick. How ‘perfect’ he was, how high and mighty he was now that everyone knew who he was. And he didn’t even have the muscle Noir had, the fucker was a padded up liar. He just wanted to lunge and strangle him.
Why'd he even have to be here? Madelyn seemed to have a good grip on Homelanders leash. Seemed like she didn’t need any help, til she blew up. Noir saw and heard how she treated Homelander, he wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it was.
And how fucked up they made Homelander.
It was funny how narcissistic he was, but he truly didn’t know how bad it was, only Black Noir did. And that was even more hilarious.
Over time he went from the sometimes shy and nervous newbie, the goody two shoes, to..this monster. Noir knew the atrocities Homelander committed, because of petty shit. It would be funny, if it hadn’t gone on for so long without someone saying something. Luckily that Billy Butcher was coming after Homelander, but he’d have to thwart that.
Noir wasn’t squeaky clean either, he had done equally as terrible things as Homelander. But that fucker was getting away with it all, everyone was brushing it under the rug, covering for him, he could do a mass genocide and the public wouldn’t know.
How did they dare stick him only next to that manchild? He should be leading The Seven, not Homelander.
Black Noir chewed on his lip to avoid vomiting in his mask when they sat together for interviews.
He was somewhat relieved he never had to speak for interviews or anyone. That didn’t mean he never wanted to. Homelanders voice was like honey, and everyone wanted the chance to speak to him. Sure, people wanted Noir to talk too, with Payback being popular back in the day. But that interest faded away for their shiny new toy.
Noir had so much resentment built up for Homelander, and he didn’t even know. He wouldn’t even measure it, he couldn’t begin to. Every inch of Noirs body, down to his blood cells, his DNA, he was sure it was filled with hate.
He had grown close with the ‘superior being’, the fucker thought they were best friends. He could just sit there while the blond prattled on and he wouldn’t have to do anything, seemed like an easy job but it was grating.
Yes, Homelander was the closest thing Noir had to a friend. And he didn’t like it. But he had to stay in this position, letting the baby cry to him, hold his hand, boss him around and be a good little sheep. Til death did they part.
They were both parasites feeding on each other. Homelander had a symbiotic relationship with his, feeding it and letting it grow and grow, in return he felt loved. Noir wanted to flush his out at first, feeling the sickness, but had gotten used to it. He had to study this creature.
Noir had gotten inside his head, inside his heart. He wanted inside his skin. If he could crawl into his body and wear him, he could.
Noir continued to suck down on his hand when he was back in his bed, his jaw trembled as blood continued to streak down his chin. He’d left a blood trail leading up to his room, a nice surprise. He knew he’d have to destroy that camera footage given the bottom half of his face and his hand showed, but he was focused on something else now.
Noirs bloody hand pulled away from his mouth, saliva coated and dripping blood onto his sheets. His head tilted back, tongue running over his blood-covered teeth, imagining the taste was from Homelander. He quickly went to pull the bottom half of his gear off, it was like he was on fire with how quickly he moved. The rest of it came off, his heart beating quicker and quicker.
A pillow found its way to his already hard cock, he was hard ever since the gripped Homelanders hair. Noir found it weird how he was pushed away, Homelander acting like he didn’t enjoy it. Maybe if he let Homelander pull his mask off, he’d let him do whatever he wanted. But Noir should’ve done it anyway.
Hearing Homelander scream and yell, his legs kick uselessly, feeling him stretch and tear around his cock, it would’ve been so satisfying. Noir wouldn’t care if he really liked it or not, if he put up a fight or let himself be taken. He needed to see and hear Homelander be treated like the dog he was and put in his place. His blood dripping on a cock, not just anys but Black Noirs. By his right-hand man, his best friend.
Noirs hips picked up the pace, his bed creaked under him.
Homelander would probably cry and beg for it to stop. Pleading with Noir as if he had any humanity in him, he’d truly get to hear some despair in his fucking voice finally. Under his boot, knowing his place finally, under the true god. If Noir wasn’t a god, he was a monster. If he couldn’t be loved, he would be a feared people eater, and that was fine by him.
He surely was unused, he wouldn’t have let any other man on top of him, Noir knew that. He’d feel amazing, before Noir resized his hole by three times it’s original size.
He’d be left bloodied and ruined, suit and soul ripped up. Noir would finally have gotten to see him cry, like the baby he was. He’d come into the meeting room like a neutered dog, submissively looking away from the masked monster.
Noir would have to poke his eye later to try and make himself cry, run his finger over his cheek and lick it. Just to try and imagine what Homelanders tears would taste like. Like all the rest he’d tasted, but still special.
Noir wondered if Homelander would blame himself and downward spiral, or go into a rage fit and try to laser his attacker?
Johnny boy wouldn’t even think it was an attack. He’d offer himself to me. All of him. He was about to. He wanted to. Of course he’s fucking gay. Strutting around compensating for something. Noir clenched his jaw.
Homelander touching his mask was truly like poking a bear. He only got grazed by a claw, but the bear would probably charge again.
“I can do whatever the fuck I want.” Black Noir breathed.
The next few days were awkward. Homelander was the one who made it awkward of course, Noir remained cool and collected as usual.
Homelander kept glancing away from Noir and kept the exchanges briefer than usual. His voice was more formal, clearing his throat before he spoke to Noir. Luckily for the golden calf, no one noticed anything. He didn’t need any gossip among The Seven about a ‘breakup’ or imaginings of what happened between the two.
He was going to have to get over these feelings eventually. Talking and letting his feelings flow out of his mouth was the healthiest outlet for him. It was either that, or just punching a hole through Noirs chest and making up some supe terrorist attack, which was the last resort.
“Heyy, Noir.” Homelander gave a smile that Noir wanted to shove into shit.
Black Noir walked into the lions’ den that was the meeting room, just Homelander sitting at the huge table. The doors closed behind him with a boom, filling the quiet room.
Homelander sat there as if he belonged there, the sunlight from the windows illuminated his figure and shined his gold hair. He looked as if he had a halo glow, angelic sitting at his cloud. His cape laid off to the side so he wouldn’t sit on it. Noir had the urge to just grab it and wrap it around his throat.
If he respected the flag so much as to not put his ass on it he should give it the honor of murdering him. Noir casually thought.
He was about to sit across from Homelander before he was stopped with a hand gesture.
“No no, next to me.” The smile on his face was as fake as his hair color. Which was a bitch to bleach by yourself, Noir cursed him for that. His red glove tapped the chair that was pulled closer to him than usual. Noir paused before almost stalking around the table and over to the chair, looking as if he was about to pounce.
He sat on the chair, back erect, contrasted to Homelander leaning back.
“I wanted to talk about the other night.” Homelander cleared his throat. Of course Noirs pen and paper were nowhere to be found.
“I’ll just get it out in the open! I love you, but like a friend. And you must already know that.” Homelander didn’t get anything in response. He paused for the nod that never came, then moved on.
“Do you…love me? Romantically?” He chuckled. He was nervous when it should’ve been the masked man cornered next to him. “I’ll know if you’re lying. And it’s okay, I have nothing against gay people. It’s the 2010s, Noir, not 19-“
Black Noir tuned out the prattling of his mouth and focused more on the sound of the blood rushing in his veins, his heart fluttering and the scent of sweat collecting under his suit. He wanted more of that, and not a worm trying to make him ‘come out the closet’.
And the thing was. Homelander wouldn’t be able to tell if he was lying. Noir tried to tell the truth as much as possible, but he knew how to lie. How to keep his heart rate down, to not fidget. He’s known the art of lying since the day he was born. But he was going to be truthful.
“-I’m rambling again. Just, yes or no, do you-“
Noir shook his head.
Homelander clicked his tongue, he paused for a second and chuckled. His smile didn’t stay though. He seemed almost disappointed with the answer. He glanced down, then looked back up at Noir. What, not everyone wanted to give him kisses goodnight? What a shocker.
“…do you like me sexually?” Homelander knew the answer but asked anyway.
Noir nodded.
“So you’re gay.” Homelander hummed, saying that as if he stated a fact.
Noir shook his head.
Homelander guffawed and ran his fingers though his hair, genuinely amused by that answer.
“What, bisexual?”
Noir didn’t react but just stared at Homelander, making him pick up the ‘really?’ vibe.
Black Noir didn’t consider himself gay or bisexual. He never lusted after men, he didn’t want to please men. Whenever he stuck his dick in someone, it was to please himself. No he didn’t lust after men, he lusted after man . Or, he was more alike to a object than a man. Homelander. That’s the thing he wanted.
“Denial isn’t healthy, my friend.” Homelander teased and wagged a finger at Noir.
“Your secrets safe with me.” He got up and went to slap Noir on the back, still chuckling. “In fact, any secret is.”
Oh? Noir purred inside his head, like a devious cat. He knew where this was going.
“Don’t make me get on my knees and beg.” Homelander mused, slapping his hand onto Noirs shoulder and squeezing.
I’d love to see that actually.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Homelanders face went serious, looming over Noir and casting a shadow over what was already a shadow of a man.
Homelander heard a puff of air from Black Noir. Was that…was that a stifled laugh?
Another puff, then a deep chuckle was heard. He was almost giggling, and holding himself from truly laughing.
Homelander had never heard Noir laugh. The only noise he heard his grunt of pain during battle. These noises of amusement were enough to make his heart flutter, it was so handsome. But they were made when Homelander was asserting authority, so he pushed any weird feelings down and tried to get ticked off.
“What’s so funny..?” Homelander let out that kind of chuckle he made before beating someone to a pulp.
Noir so desperately wanted to pin Homelander to that window behind them. To make him scream and cry for mercy, to make him angrier, to hear his blood rush like a river. But he couldn’t risk getting ‘kicked’ from The Seven. He shoved his lion back into its small cage.
His shoulders bounced as he kept giggling and chuckling to himself, a hand reached up and tried to hold back more laughter as he was leaning on the table for support.
“Noir, you’re kinda pissing me off now, stop.” Homelander warned.
Black Noir was bit on his tongue so hard it bled, but that didn’t help, he was ticklish. He let Homelanders hand grip onto his throat, but he did not let himself get pushed onto the table. He was an immovable object against an unstoppable force.
Homelander blinked in confusion, was Noir always this strong? Okay enough with the warnings, he removed his hand to try and rip the mask off with lightning speed. Noir matched the speed and grabbed onto his wrist again, then the other wrist. Oh god-
Homelander was yanked down onto Noirs lap, bouncing as he straddled him. He didn’t know Noir was as fast as him, what the hell?
This was the most touch they’d ever had from each other.
Blood rushed to Homelanders face, out of anger? Embarrassment? Arousal. Noir immediately placed it. That was cute, like that time Noir watched a video about the calf that thought a lion was its mother. Homelander couldn’t believe what just happened or how fast this went, or how stupid he was to make the same mistake twice, or that Noir was defying his authority.
“Noir, you..can’t do this every time I try and-“ Black gloved fingers were tangled in Homelanders hair, then pulled him closer to Noirs face. Homelander felt like he couldn’t breathe, but could hear and feel the hot puffs of air from Noirs mask. Their noses were almost touching, Homelanders jaw slack. He could feel the danger. It made his hair stand on end, and something in his pants stir.
Noir could feel his tongue bleed into the black mesh of his mask as his lips were slightly parted. He reached up slowly to the mesh, Homelanders heart was pounding in his ears. He pulled up the mouth of his mask, blood trickling down his chin immediately.
Huh, it was a lot more different than Homelander imagined, not deformed or scarred. He had soft lips and smooth skin, his jaw and chin weren’t sharp or too rounded. If Homelander thought this part of him looked handsome, he needed to see the rest of his face. Nevermind the fact blood was spilling from his mouth like he bit into a blood capsule.
But he didn’t have enough time to admire, Noir smashed his lips against his, teeth clacking together and noses almost breaking with the force. Homelanders eyes closed and stayed closed, letting his right hand man do as he wanted. The other man’s lips ravaged the others, smearing blood all over him. Homelander could taste the hint of iron trickle into his mouth which was not reciprocating, stunned into stillness.
More iron coated his tongue as Noirs invaded his mouth, making him let out a muffled noise. Whether it was a moan or him trying to speak a ‘stop’, neither of them knew. Noir didn’t care for either, seeming like he was trying to choke out Homelander with his tongue, spit and blood mingling on their chins. Noir was disappointed Homelanders taste was watered down with the blood, but at least the supe was tasting him intimately too, forced to swallow spit and saliva.
Homelander let out more noises as the tongue continued the intrusion, then finally was given a breath of fresh air when Noir pulled out. His teeth bit onto Homelanders bottom lip, making him yelp and whine out. One of his sharp canines grazed against it as he bit like he had lockjaw, holding onto him and making the man shakily whimper.
Oh fuck, Homelander realized. He’s actually making me bleed.
Noir swallowed as he kept biting, imagining the flesh sliding down his throat. He released after a beat, sliding his tongue over the mark, lapping up the blood as if his diet consisted of it. Though it may as well have.
Ingesting Homelander, what made him him, was exciting Noir even more. The lion in its cage had its paw out, claws extended and grabbing onto the soft circus trainer.
“N-Noir, Noir I-I have a photo shoot tomorrow.” Homelander groaned out, eyes half lidded. “You can’t leave marks..” It went in one ear and out the other, the fingers in his hair yanked his face up to look at the ceiling. Their panting and huffs of hot breath filled the air, Homelander felt like jelly. Manipulating his body and mind was way easier than Vought made it to Black Noir.
Noir mashed his lips against Homelanders soft skin, smearing blood all over him as he laid kisses along the side of his neck. Some twisted version of a woman leaving her lipstick behind. He felt vibrations on his lips as he heard more moans, he could feel his pulse. He kissed his carotid artery, the one he desperately wanted to feel between his teeth.
Homelanders eyes fluttered as he stared up at the ceiling, he could feel his dick stirring in his suit before which made him try and squirm away.
“Okay Noir-“ Noirs hands moved to his hips, pinning him to his lap. He spinned Homelanders back up against the table, keeping him cornered. He wasn’t kissing anymore though, the sounds of his slow heavy breathing ringing in Homelanders ears. He was frozen, thumbs digging into hips as it seemed like he was thinking about something.
“Noir..? O-okay buddy, how bout you take a br-“ Homelander chuckled then suddenly, a yelp spilled from his mouth as his teammate bit into the side of his neck. He whimpered and bit on his wounded lip, shaky breaths escaping from his nose as Noirs teeth stayed sunken into the skin that was baby smooth for him.
Homelanders hands gripped onto Noirs shoulders, eyes fluttering even more before squeezing shut. ‘Hff..hmmf..’ he whimpered. Why was he so noisy now? Whenever he bled he never squealed like a fangirl. Noir could feel more liquid gold deep into his mouth, coating more of his lips and trickling down his throat. He reluctantly let go, Homelanders jaw going slack as he shakily whimpered.
Noir slowly pulled away, a chewed tongue licking over his lips. He swiftly pushed Homelander on his back onto the glass table, hands pressed firm over his suit. Homelander laid under him, a crack showing in his foundation. His hair mussed, covered in both of their blood, eyes half lidded as if he already had that afterglow of getting fucked. This was so against the rules. Noir had to pull away now before he did something he may regret. He knew he wouldn’t regret anything he ever did, but he’d rather not get chemically castrated. Worse than getting put down.
Noir quickly pulled his hands off, then slowly stepped back.
“N-Noir? You okay?” Homelander didn’t know why he was so weak as he tried to sit up, eyes glassy as he looked up at the perfect figure.
Noir spat blood at the ground, then he pulled the mesh mouth of his mask back down, not caring to wipe off his face before he did. He turned to try and make his way around the table to the doors.
“Wait…” Homelanders voice got a little louder, trying to get his attention but failed. He needed an explanation, why he was all over him like a fly to shit then suddenly got cold. “Wait! Listen to me damn it!” He growled, sliding off the table and only took a few steps to Noir. The doors closed, leaving behind a very confused and horny supe. Homelander felt like his brain was just fucking scrambled, when before he was yelling at Noir to leave but now trying to get him to stay.
He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, he should’ve winced in pain but he pressed it further against the bite. A fist formed, continuing to run it over the wound, more blood trickling to his chin now. His hand slowly raised to his neck, hissing gently as he pushed his fingers against it, slow and hard.
Homelander did love Noir, here he was, making him hurt when bullets didn’t. Making him horny when so many things these days didn’t.
Noir did hate Homelander, here he was, weak at the knees enough to let him knock him down.