a friendly ghost.

Those days you woke up rested, still in each other’s arms with his lips ghosting across your neck, placing a couple soft kisses in between a raspy ‘good morning’. Those were the good nights.

In your time together you’ve also discovered the bad nights.

You wake up to Homelander screaming, crying or thrashing around often enough that you’ve learned to manage it. 

One way or another.

Some nights it requires soft cooing words as you hold him close, rocking him from side to side, taking on the role of a mother soothing a crying child. Another night you hum anything that comes to mind—soft songs and rhythms that put Homelander to sleep faster than you’d expect. 

Some nights neither of you manages to fall asleep again so you sit in the dark of the room, talking in hushed voices akin to naughty kids staying up all night during a sleepover—worried the adults might overhear. While nobody is here to hear the two of you, the fantasy of a lighter moment in time feels too exhilarating to abandon.

You talk about anything and everything those nights. You talk about silly things like favourite colours and why there’s more to life than red, white, and blue—no, gold doesn’t count either.  Have big debates on what are statistically most likely to be people’s favourite meals or drinks—you insist it’s not milk—or what would be the most nutritionally logical food if you could only eat that for the rest of your life. It’s the type of conversations you’ve had with friends instead of studying or working. You’d think they’d be too mundane to entertain and distract Homelander but he’s glowing, immersed in the experience of a low-stakes conversation that won’t matter by the morning. The memory of a peaceful time, however, will.

You make it your mission to give him the sleepover experience he’s never had in those evenings.

You talk about life experiences and events—you even share your most embarrassing moments just to get his mind off things and pretend to pout and get mad when he can’t hold back his laughter. It’s a rare thing these days—you enjoy it fully even if it comes at your expense. 

You introduce him to many games. You play ‘Would You Rather’ for at least an hour. It gets sillier and sillier by the hour.

“Would you rather have the Deep as your best friend or never get another blowjob?”

“Oh Christ, can we go back to when I was picking between a hug and a kiss?”

“Nope, you gotta answer. That’s the rule of the game.”

The 4 am giggles have fully set off by now and you find just about everything funny. The choked noise of disbelief at the question alone sends you into a wheezing fit. Homelander pulls you closer, and you can’t stop the way your laughter makes you shake against him.

“What if it’s a long-distance friendship? I kick him out of the Seven and send him back to Sandusky.”

He’s bargaining and all it does is send you down another spiral of tears-in-your-eyes laughter.

“Still gotta be a best friend though. You’d have to get on the phone with him ever so often.”

“Fuck—okay, define best friend.” 

“Somebody you go to with your deepest, darkest secrets. Somebody to hold you close when you’re upset.”

“Mhmmm, I have you for that.” He nuzzles into your neck, pressing a couple cute kisses into your skin. You’re so sensitive to laughter that the tickling sensation makes you burst into giggles. You make your escape but his iron grip doesn’t let you get far.

“You’d have to go to him too! What if we get into a fight? You gotta talk to your bestie Kevin about that.”

“Please, don’t ever say that—You know what—I mean—pfft—blowjobs are overrated anyway. Handjobs are still on the table, right? We’ll just have to get your hand really wet and then it’s no skin off my back.”

“Wow, okay, I’ll remember this.”

“Babe—”

The petulant tone just sends you into another fit of giggles—you swear your abs are gonna ache in the morning.

“Alright, your turn. Would you rather be skinned alive or burned alive?”

“What?! Those are horrible options. The fact that you’re even making me think about it is mean enough.”

“Exactly—now you know what I’m going through. Not that I’d let either happen. You know I’d save you, right?”

“Yeah, your water bestie could put out the fire.” 

“Alright, now you’ve done it.” 

The tickle fight that ensues makes you scream with laughter, begging for mercy like you’ve never had to before.

That ends the ‘Would you Rather?’ round and you move onto more unique games. You start enjoying Homelander’s powers for silly reasons. You’ve seen them in action, you’ve even seen him abuse them in bed but never have you just… had fun with them.

That night breaks another first for you both.

You’re both lying on your back staring up at the ceiling. Homelander’s using his penetrative vision to see through all the layers of the tower’s rooftop, pointing out the direction of stars he can see.

“How far can you even see?”

“Well, far, but they’re pretty fucking far away. Still just looks like a spec in the sky. Do you want to fly out with me? We can hover in the sky, watch the stars together.” It’s romantic and sweet but you’re more than content with just being next to him here. No great feats or displays of powers necessary—insane eyesight aside. Plus the bed is awfully comfortable and his body is oh so warm against you.

“No, I want to stay here. But let’s do that another night, I think that’s a really fun idea.” 

You tuck yourself closer to him, his arm automatically wraps around you, stroking up and down the side of your arm as he looks in other directions telling you all he can see through buildings and how many layers he manages to see through. You feel him puff his chest out anytime you let out a particularly amazed ‘wow’. 

When his discoveries lend to people getting ready in the early mornings or having sex is when you shut this activity down. But the laughter he’s freely sharing with you just might be worth invading other people’s privacy.

You spend these nights together until the dawn breaks. Both of you end up feeling more tired than usual in the middle of the day, but one knowing look is enough to put a fond smile on your face.

There are, however, some nights that are harder to recover from. His nightmares can leave him shaky and tense in the confusing state of in-between sleep and wakefulness and sometimes words are not enough to untangle the mess in his head.

He lashes out, screams, or pushes you away—seeing you for someone else.

He’s turned away from you. Too frazzled to even seek out your comfort. You know a part of him is worried that he’ll lose control of his lasers and blow two holes cleanly through your skin and bone—he’s said so before. You can’t say that hasn’t crossed your mind before, but he’s not hurt you yet—even accidentally. 

He’s not asleep, you can tell he’s still tense. He’s clutching the shared duvet so tight, it’s a straight line across your bodies. He nearly pinches it entirely off your side. Glancing into the mirror across from him doesn’t help you. While the moonlight illuminates the room, it’s not enough for your average eyes to discern anything more than vague silhouettes.

“Homelander,” you tap his shoulder gently with your fingertips, resisting the urge to pull back when he flinches. “It’s okay.” The rest of your fingers land on his hot, soft skin, slowly lowering your palm fully over his shoulder blade. You rub in slow circles over the tense muscle. He’s almost scorching hot, as if all that pent up frustration and inability to pulverize a target to release the pressure cooks him from the inside out.

“I’m fine—” His voice is hoarse yet one you could barely call menacing.

“Sh, sh, shhh…” You cut in, letting your tone extend into silence as your hand moves closer to his spine stroking your knuckles along the left side of it. “Just focus on me.”

If there’s one thing he’s even more affected by than the messy thoughts in his head it’s touch. Simple press of skin against skin that would mean nothing to anybody else. No matter how long you’ve been together, the novelty of every time you go out of your way to touch him has not worn off. Whether it’s holding his hand or seeking out a hug, he makes you feel like that’s the best part of his day.

You alternate between stroking with the back of your finger across his nape, just about meeting the short hairs and turning down to his back, palming over the expanse of his bare skin.

Anything to get his mind out of the dark spiral you drag your finger in the shape of letters across his back, spelling out a range of words and phrases ranging from ‘Homelander’ to ‘I love you’.

You smile to yourself once you see the tension of his shoulders release with a sigh. Your lips swap shifts with your fingers and you place little kisses across his neck and shoulders, enjoying the way he shudders and leans closer to you.

“Mhmm… closer.” He rumbles softly, his voice more a purr than the tension-strung rasp it was before.

You grin into the kiss you’re placing against his shoulder as you scoot over, your body now firmly pressed against his back. Homelander sighs in relief, the presence of you grounding. Your arm snakes in between his arm and his side as you let it limply curl around his midriff.

It’s not enough for Homelander. He grasps your hand in his own, pressing it firmly against his chest. He releases a heavy breath with the added pressure of your palm in between his pecs. Once he lets go, his own hand now hanging limp and loose with the fatigue of waning adrenaline rush, your hand kneads the pliable muscle and skin, nails making little lines in between the swirly chest hair.

Surprising even yourself, you let out a salacious little heavy breath when your hand goes in to cup his pec from the bottom giving it a squeeze. Without a thought you press your hips against his ass as if you could grind into him from this angle.

Getting a handful of his pec feels obscene enough to him too, except Homelander isn’t shy about the raspy moan he lets out. Feeling encouraged, your fingers give his nipple a squeeze before going back to kneading both of his pecs, one after the other, with a little thrust from your hips against his. Most of it isn’t even conscious, your body just reverts to what it knows best. Comforting one another through sex has always been a reliable remedy.

His body feels so good in your hands. Suddenly you wish he was lying underneath you so you could get two glorious handfuls of his tits, squeezing them and seeing the look on his face as you do. Even with the time passing the room is still too dark for you to make out his expression through the mirror’s reflection.

“You want me to take care of you?” The deep rasp of your voice should embarrass you but the need with which you run your hand across his body takes over.

His nod is followed by a nearly inaudible whimper.

His nerves are long gone but he’s not eager to twist this moment into your usual dynamic. The feel of a phantom hand that he cannot see is a thrilling change to your usual comforts.

Your hand slides down to his stomach, squeezing the side of him before tracing lines across his skin—teasing the line of his waistband.

“It’s okay John, I’ll make you feel so good.” You whisper his name into his ear like a dirty secret. Homelander groans and bucks his hips forward on autopilot—his body used to the naughty sensation of grinding against your silhouette in the middle of the night. This time he doesn’t meet the soft swell of your ass in front of him so he pivots, pushing back against you instead.

Your hand settles over the top of his soft cotton sleeping pants. Part of you is glad he’s worn them today, the feeling of them is divine when you brush up and down his thighs. While the feeling of his bare thighs against your palm is a nicer indulgence you enjoy the way he jumps when you squeeze, not expecting the faint sensation to turn so vivid within half a second.

He’s so jumpy like this. He has nothing to be afraid of nor surprised by. It’s not the first time you’ve touched him by a mile. Yet he’s acting like a virgin hitting third base.

He gasps out loud when your hand slides across his cock. He’s already hard. You wonder what was the first thing that made his cock jump in excitement in your comforting gestures today.

He’s usually more of an active participant in your bedtime activities but today he’s letting you lead. It’s a nice change. His cock is hard and hot through the fabric of his sleeping pants. He’s not wearing any underwear so you get to feel the glorious fullness and heft of his cock through the soft cotton, gift wrapped just for you.

You lose yourself in the feeling of your hand gliding over the thick outline of him up and down. The softness of the material against the pulsating hardness is a fun textural feast to experience. It’s mouth-watering. Homelander always needs, yearns so strongly his body takes over where his words don’t hold up.

“You’re doing so well, baby.” You continue whispering in his ear, kissing tiny little tickling kisses into his neck right under his ear. “Does this feel nice?” You ask, sweet as honey, as you cup his balls through his pants before returning to tapping your fingers across the head of his cock, feeling the wet little patch where he’s soaked through the material stick to your finger each time.

“Do you want more?” You tap your fingers across his considerable length.

“Uh-huh.” His response is clipped and breathy, choking on the way he’s been holding in his overwhelming reactions.

You both hiss in unison when your hand squeezes tight around his cock, feeling the pulse thud confidently against your grip. You rarely get to feel him tent a pair of loose-fitted pants like this. His suit is rigid and unforgiving—removing the fun of feeling his cock ache to be touched directly.

Even though you’re enjoying this soft play a little too much, making your own underwear damp the same way he’s making his pants at the highest point, you want your man to relax. He’s gone back to feeling tense and high-strung. Albeit for nicer reasons.

Your fingertips dance around the thin elastic band, finally slipping underneath and wrapping around his thick cock. The skin of his shaft is velvety soft and smooth, a treat for your hands when you feel the bump of his underside vein throb under your fingertips. You need better leverage to grip him properly and give him a good long stroke.

“Help me out?” You nudge at the fabric.

Instead of just pulling the waistband down enough to give you full access to his heavy cock, Homelander rips the fabric off, letting it separate at the seams and fall in tatters down on the bedroom floor next to his side of the bed.

You can’t deny that the effortlessness of it sends a thrill down your spine. You’ve long stopped him from ripping your clothes off anytime things get heated fast because you got frustrated with having to replace your wardrobe each month—seeing this makes you reconsider.

You let out an airy little laugh, “yep, that’ll do. Thank you.” You reward him with a little kiss on his neck. He preens and exposes more of his skin, letting you nuzzle into him fully. Daringly, you lick a line up the pretty slope and attempt to suck a hickey into the softest part of his neck. You fail—of course—but you’re persistent, surely one of these days it’s going to take.

You finally wrap your hand around his bare cock, forming a fist over the head. The poor man has been diligently leaking pre-cum, thoroughly wetting the head from where he rubbed it against the fabric.

You coat your hand in the substance, rubbing the smooth tip in a circle before you slide down, stroking just over the edge of his tip. It’s a sensitive part of him, you feel his thigh twitch against you involuntarily.

You spread his wetness down his shaft, impressively there’s enough of it for this to be a smooth comfortable slide of your hand. So attuned to each other’s bodies you both groan at the first full stroke of your fist down the entire length of his cock.

Your hand repeats the motion, stroking up and down in a soothing rhythm, neither too fast nor too slow. Just right. Even a simple rhythm is too much for poor Homelander who’s nearly trembling all over at the way your hand twists at the top. 

His cock makes a little wet squelchy noise when your fist runs over the head and closes at the top. It shouldn’t make you as wet as it does but there’s something inherently sexy about his body getting so aroused he’s produced enough pre-cum to slick your hand fully.

Your thumb slides over the tip and across the slit each time you stroke upwards, reaching a faster, heavier rhythm. The thud of your hand is nearly embarrassingly loud in the quiet home as your fist meets his hips at a steady interval.

Homelander’s freely whimpering now—to an untrained ear he sounds closer to sobbing (and he might well be) but you know that his most tortured whimpers equate to the best pleasure. 

It doesn’t even take beyond two minutes in total for him to fall apart. Your hand concentrates at the top of his cock, gliding over the edge of the head seamlessly, sending electric pleasure down his limbs. His cock twitches all over, throbbing heavy and hard in your hand.

His wet choked up moan is all you get as a warning before his entire body flexes and releases, his cock spurting pearly white ropes of come over your fist and his torso. He’s even managed to reach up to his neck. You give him a couple more deep and long strokes, really squeezing it all out of him.

With a heavy sigh he sags against the mattress, all of the fight and stress released out of him. In more ways than one.

“Mhm, that was beautiful.” You lean over and finally give him a little peck on his lips.

“Thankss for….mhmmmm… that.” His speech is slurred and a little heavy but the content smile on his face is all the thanks you need.

“Tissue?” He groans weakly and you nod, turning towards your end of the bed, plucking a wet wipe or two out of the package.

By the time you turn around with the wet tissues he’s asleep, huffing little sleepy breaths as you wipe his chest down off his own mess. Since he’s already asleep you go the extra mile to get out of bed and walk to the nearest trash and dispose of the tissue.

On the way back to bed you notice it’s gone 4am already. Settling back into bed hoping to fall asleep quickly you’re surprised when Homelander turns around, spooning you just like you did him earlier, huffing a quiet sleepy breath and settling his head against the top of your back.

Regardless of how the night goes, you will always have each other to rely on.

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