Chapter Text
Homelander knows you’re depressed.
He can see it in the way you fake your smile, how you only want to ever stay inside your penthouse. You only wear sweats or baggy shirts for your loungewear, all baggy clothing for your civilian wear. You had to start taking antidepressants—finally—after joining The Seven. You were even forced into therapy, but you could never tell what you really thought in your meetings. What if the therapist up and broke confidentiality? (She wouldn’t, Homelander would kill her) What if someone was listening in? (Homelander was, every session) But with the medication and therapy, he can watch you through the walls and see you just..lay in bed and try sleeping all day.
You only ever come outside when it’s work-related, no matter how much nagging and persisting Homelander does. He can get you to do dinner and movie dates, or go for a nightly fly around the city and take in the view. But even then, you’re starting to deny those more and more. You’re ignoring his calls. His texts. Him.
Homelander loved you, genuinely. He got that depressed people were, well, depressed . He knew you couldn’t help it, and it was worrying him. He looked endlessly through the internet for advice on helping a loved one with depression, and even fucking went to Starlight. God, he heard ‘I love you’ but you barely wanted his hand around your waist anymore. He could kiss you and hold your hand, and you could cuddle close, but when it came to sex it was weird. Homelander had never been with someone who always wanted their shirt on, or if he did manage to rip off your shirt, demanded he turn off the lights.
And so Homelander figured you just had a little body issue, no problem. He’d compliment your figure as best he could, but that just made things worse.
“What, you can’t take a little compliment? Or do you just not believe me?”
“Just stop!” You cried.
Homelander couldn't stop, how could he? You were his and he was yours, you were always supposed to support each other always . You were supposed to be America's power couple. You’re supposed to be dating him, you’re supposed to be his girlfriend.
And that was the problem.
You loved Homelander with all your heart, but you fucking hated seeing yourself like that in tabloids draped over his arm. Being called the new it girl, strong independent woman, America's sweetheart, etc..Constantly having to wear that clingy fucking super suit—you tried to get them to cover as much skin as possible but your bust still showed. Being every Seven fanboys wet dream, the hair, the makeup, even your own lower bodily functions. It all made you sick, and lately, you’ve been feeling sicker and sicker . Joining The Seven came with a white-hot spotlight, but dating Homelander? The pressure was just building and building up, a boiling point, threatening to spill out. Maybe this was too much.
But you couldn’t just quit The Seven, you had your parents to think about. And dump Homelander? Out of the question, you couldn’t do that to him. Out of everything in this fucked up world, he made you feel as best as anyone else could’ve. He treated you like an equal. Made you powerful, elevated you to new heights you could’ve never imagined.
You two were gods. Gods. But everyone thought you were a god and goddess.
You were still in bed when you heard your door open.
“Rise and shine!” Homelander announced himself as he entered, his strong voice carrying from downstairs. “You awake?” He hummed.
“I am now,” you mumbled.
“I got you your favorite. Was thinking about a movie night, whaddya say?” He tried to be chipper. You could indeed smell your favorite takeout downstairs, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be excited.
“I have to lay off the calories. Remember?” You mumbled. Maybe if you lost a few more pounds, your body would become more androgynous.
“You’re skinny enough.” Homelander frowned, and you could hear him walking up the stairs to your shared bedroom. You grunted in response and rolled over onto your stomach. “You’re a supe, you need to eat more calories than a human if you’re gonna stay in tip-top shape.”
You grunted again.
“..Hey.” Homelander huffed. “Just gonna give me the silent treatment? Real mature.” No response. Then you heard the beginning of a name that was dead to you, one you forbade Homelander from ever saying to you. He could hear your heart rate speed up in a bad way, and you slowly peeked up at him to give him a warning glare. You always insisted he call you by your hero name. People thought it was weird you chose a masculine name, but you liked it. You wouldn’t budge when Vought tried to change it to something more feminine, you insisted it was your brand. You loathed your given name, the ones who birthed you gave you, and he knew that.
“Don’t call me that.” You bitterly growled.
“Sorry, it was the only way to get your attention.” Homelander thought that you must’ve just liked your hero alter ego a lot, and hated being reminded of your human name. He hated his birth name too, but he only liked it when you said it. Only you were allowed to call him John. “Can't seem to get your attention at all these days..”
“Sorry.”
“You say that word a lot but I don’t think you mean it.” Homelander snorted. You had the urge to say sorry again, but you held your tongue and pushed your face into the bed again. “I love you.” He tucked his cape aside as he sat gingerly next to you on the bed.
“I love you too.” You muffled earnestly, tired. Homelander leaned down and flipped you onto your back, then dragged you onto his lap with great ease. “Talk to me.” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “..please.” He added at the end and chuckled, furrowing his brow nervously. “Can you make this whole thing easier for me, you know I’m not the best at comforting people in general.” Homelander nosed against your neck and sighed. “Just tell me what’s on your mind—is it-is it something specific that made you start feeling like shit? Is it something I did?”
“What? No- no , y-you didn’t do anything wrong. Please don’t blame yourself.” You panicked a little, you hated seeing Homelanders mood pushed down even the tiniest bit. He could get insecure very easily at the start of your relationship, but you built up enough trust and love for him to feel safe, you couldn’t just knock everything down because of this.
“..is it something someone else did?” You could hear his voice get a little dangerous, his bare hand bunching up in your shirt protectively as he cradled you.
“It’s..”
Homelanders blue eyes gazed into yours, dark brows raised expectantly.
He could smell the adrenaline seeping off you, your heart was quickly rising to a rhythm he hadn’t heard since you first met. You couldn’t find the words, you couldn’t just up and say ‘I’m transgender’, you thought he’d probably drop you like a hot tamale and freak out—you’d have to ease him in. You’ve never said the words out loud before either…
“I..it’s just me..” you mumbled. Homelander blinked, prompting you to go on.
“I don’t feel right. Not just inside but outside too.” These words felt like torture to take out of your mouth, but it felt better the more you spoke.
“So you’re still just insecure? Hun, how many times do I have to tell you, you’re—“You had to stop Homelander before another word left him. “It’s not just that.” You interrupted. “It’s not like I want bigger tits— I don’t even want them at all.” You bitterly said without thinking, which got a bit of a surprised look from your boyfriend, followed by fast blinking.
“I-I’m sorry, I, um..” you tried to find your words again. “It’s not just that I don’t want people to judge me..”
“..I’m not following.” Homelander tilted his head slightly, he could smell the sweat beading off you now. How more blood was rushing to your face, heart bursting, he could even sense your tear ducts threatening to spill. “Hey, hey now, calm down..” he cooed to you, his strong arms around you giving a reassuring squeeze, I’m here they reminded you.
You rattled as you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself. “It’s like um..” you tried to search for a metaphor so Homelander could understand better. “Like my skin. It’s like an itchy sweater, but, I can’t just take that off. But I wanna.”
A beat of silence, the cogs in Homelanders brain started to turn. You hated how goddamn awkward this felt. You just wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.
“I j-just—I..I don’t want you to think I’m a freak.” Your voice got wobbly again, and Homelanders face got alarmed. Ah fuck—you were about to cry again…til he took your chin and your eyes steadied on his dead serious face. “I would never think that about you. Not ever. You’re fucking amazing, you’d never be a freak. It’s impossible.” He was right, you had to just ignore that negative voice in the back of your head. “People like us? We’re above the rest.” His hand readjusted itself, gripping your cheeks firmly now and speaking to you as if you were a child and this was simple. “We’re gods. You’re anything but some freak.” Homelanders tone then changed immediately as he let go of his grip, then smiled gently again. His blue eyes immediately changed from their cold and serious nature back to a sparkly warmth. “Now, continue.” He nudged you to keep speaking.
You gulped and sniffled, trying to find the words and get past the blockage in your throat. You stopped looking at Homelanders face again, you just couldn’t look him in the face while you were probably gonna tear out his heart and stomp it. “I’m.” Homelanders attention seemed to intensify a little, and you decided to just rip off the bandaid. “I don’t think I’m a girl. Yeah, I'm..definitely not one. I'm uh, a, I’m transgender.”
Silence again.
You decided to glance up at your dutiful boyfriend, who looked a bit surprised, his eyebrows raised slightly. But then he let out a sigh of relief and grinned, and held a hand to his chest. “Oh, whew. I thought you were gonna say you were a lesbian.” He guessed that would explain why you kept researching chest binders, now he was glad he secretly monitored your internet history so he wasn’t totally blindsided. You blinked with confusion. “You’re not upset…?”
“I’m just upset you kept this to yourself so long,” Homelander spoke softly, disappointed and wondering why you couldn’t confide in him. He didn’t consider himself an unsafe person for ‘the gays’—he labeled them—to be around, he said he loved the gays and still supported Maeve. Hell, he even experimented with men in the past, of course in his mind he wasn’t homophobic in the slightest, so how could he be transphobic? “Why not tell me? It's not a big deal, I could’ve spared you all this pain and helped you.” He rubbed your shoulder, he was taking this surprisingly well.
“‘Why not tell you’? I mean you can say you accept gay or trans people but your fanbase isn’t exactly the most tolerant…” you frowned a little.
Shit. He blinked. You were right. As much as he hated to admit it, his fans weren’t the most tolerant, he knew that and he exploited it.
“So I was just kinda scared that..that you never really liked trans people or you’d just dump me to k-keep your image—“
Homelanders grip on you got even tighter and his eyes narrowed. “Reeally. You really think I’d do that?” His voice tried to remain calm as his lips pressed together in a tight smile. “Leave you?” His brows knitted together and he chuckled with disbelief, as if you just said the dumbest fucking thing ever. “Seriously, think. I wouldn’t leave you for anything.” He loosened his grip a little, not wanting to crush you to death. “You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.” He told the truth. The moment he set his eyes on you, he knew he was never letting you go willingly, you knew it too. He didn’t have a strong opinion on trans people, publicly or privately, but he’d go all in on this ally thing if you were trans. “Whatever those.. peons, those mud people have to say, fuck it. They don’t get to tell you what to do.” The supe tried to calm himself, but the image of a huge target getting painted on your back due to this enraged him. He could worry about what people had to say about him, but you? Off-limits.
To soothe his nerves, Homelander leaned in and kissed your lips with a bit more force than intended. You kissed back and he had to pull away or otherwise he’d get carried away, and he knew you weren’t in the mood or any shape for action. “Besides, they’ll warm up to you. If I love you, they'll keep loving you.” He mumbled against your lips and kissed your cheek. You smiled weakly in response and let out a weak thank you.
“So you want to..transition? Medically and everything.” Homelander assumed and you nodded a little. He blinked and took a moment for that to sink in. He never talked about his sexuality with you, it was too embarrassing and he figured that whatever feelings he had for men were ‘fixed’ when he got into a relationship with you. How ironic was this, him in a relationship with a man as he was trying to avoid other men. And imagining you after you’ve fully become yourself? Homelanders fingers gripped you a little tighter with excitement just at the thought of your voice getting deeper—
“John? Are you okay?” You brought your hand up to cup his cheek, bringing him back down to Earth.
Homelander smiled and snapped out of his thoughts and daydreams. “Better than ever.” He purred and leaned into your touch. “So you’re not my girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend?” He sounded giddy saying that out loud, boyfriend. It made your heart flutter and your throat felt like it had a lump in it, he said it. You nodded, and his smile grew into a Cheshire grin. “Attaboy.” Homelander purred words of encouragement, and he could tell you were reacting very positively to certain words and he wanted you to be even happier. “Good on you for telling me, good boy.”
You tried to desperately swallow that lump in your throat, your eyes fast blinked and you could feel the heat in your face burn you. “If this is your attempt at foreplay, I swear I’m not in the mood.” You couldn’t help but smile.
“Hey, just saying some things that are long overdue.” Homelander tried his best to hold his silver tongue, even as he wanted to see you get even more flustered with just some words. “We’ll announce this whenever you want. We can even do it right now. Hell, you can call up that intern and have her write one of those coming out posts on your socials. Film one of those Tiktoks?”
You blinked in surprise at how eager he seemed to want this, to like this, the need to make you happy. You needed to be happy, you were his prince, and he wanted the world to know.
“S-shouldn’t we talk to PR about this? To Ashley?” You just knew she was gonna lose fifty more hairs from this.
“Oh cmon, don’t get cold feet now. You know they don’t get to tell you what to do, I do. I helped Maeve come out, didn’t even warn anyone, she just needed to be pushed in the water to learn how to swim.” Homelander rolled his eyes. Is that what he wanted to do, out you to the world on a live broadcast? And Maeve was different, you’d be becoming a whole new person to everyone. You wanted to say something snappy, but didn’t want to get into a heated argument though. You were already mentally exhausted, using up all your energy to come out to your boyfriend. “We can speed run this whole thing, rip it off like a bandaid. Don’t let it drag too long, just take the dog out back already. I can get you with the top surgeon in the country this week, tiger, like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“It’s just..it’s a big thing. I don’t wanna..mess it up. You’re one of the first people I’ve told, and I’m lucky it’s going as well as it is now. We can go a little slow, yknow?” You’ve told people before, long ago. It didn’t go well, and you suppressed this part of yourself hard due to it. Shoved back in the closet, if your parents didn’t want it, then no one wanted a transgender superhero. “And..wait, you can do that?” You raised your eyebrows. “I could get top surgery this week?” Being a national icon sure had its perks.
“I don’t know what that is but yeah!” Homelander smiled. “No doctors approvals or anything, just kick some rando off the waiting list and boom.”
“I’d..rather not steal anyones place for that.” You replied, making Homelander roll those gorgeous eyes. He tsked with impatience and laid down on the bed, dragging you with him and laying you on his chest. “Whenever you want, fine. We’re on this journey together, tiger, and whatever makes you happy then, I’ll be happy.” He settled and patted your back, letting you rest your chin on one of his padded pecs. “..wait, one of the first? Is there anyone else?” The supe suddenly questioned.
You stiffened, then avoided his gaze. “Hah, yeah, you’re not as special as you think, babe.” You teased to try and ease the tension, but he could smell the fear radiating off you.
Homelander furrowed his brow with concern at your reaction, were you hiding something? “Who else knows?”
You were quiet for a moment and didn’t seem to want to answer, but you had to. He hated silence.
“My parents. They just, didn’t react well.” You mumbled into his chest. Homelanders eyes narrowed, what? What happened? Who dared to judge you like that, tell you what to do, try to hurt you?
“What happened?” You could recognize that tone in this voice, the one that sounded like do I need to kill them?
“I just don’t wanna talk about it.” You snapped, water filling your eyes, and Homelanders face softened. He knew you didn’t have the best relationship with your family, you ignored their calls 90% of the time and you never wanted him to meet them. He’d listen to your voicemails and he thought that your parents sounded rude at worst but supportive at best, he thought he’d kill to have parents like that. When Homelander asked, your past as a former Little Miss Hero pageant kid was revealed, how your mom just loved dressing you like a doll and pressuring you harder and harder til you became the diamond you are now. But due to your parents comments building up and up, you just felt like a lump of coal still.
“Okay, then we don’t have to talk about it,” Homelander mumbled and rubbed soothing circles on your back. “We can eat instead..” he suggested and smiled softly, and you groaned a little.
“It’ll be fun!” Homelander reassured.
“..eating is your idea of a fun activity?”
“A lot of humans think it is, and I certainly enjoy it more when I do it with you.” The supe held you in a bridal carry as he floated you down the stairs to the kitchen. “And you need your energy up not just for tomorrow but right now, because to be frank, you look like shit. You always look amazing but, you look like a cat spat you out.”
“No I don’t!” You glared a little at him, no you didn’t. Well, maybe you did in the moment, messy hair, pale sweaty skin, and teary eyes—but you’d be fine in the morning.
“Just trust me like you always do.” Homelander chuckled and sat you down next to the kitchen island.
You hunched over your food and played with it for a moment, before digging in finally.
“Good boy.” You heard Homelander purr from across the marble.
You didn't feel like as much of a piece of shit as before, though. You could feel like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders, with just some words, and encouragement from Homelander..you already felt a thousand times better than all those months you spent feeling sorry for yourself. You couldn’t just lay here and take the beating people didn’t even realize they were giving you.
Homelander was right, as always.
He was right.
Fuck it.
Fuck all of them.
You could do fucking anything.