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Billy Fucking Butcher

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The thing was, Homelander hated humans. He hated the fucking mudpeople with all of his heart. From the moment he had been sent out into the world he had hated them. He loved how they made him feel, the power they gave him with their cheers and applause. He needed them. He could not pretend anymore that he did not need them. Maeve, the fucker, had proven as much to him. But he hated them. He hated them so much more then he needed them. 

Yet, he'd always hated them as a block. Had never hated one of them. Specifically.  

Until now. 

He hated Billy fucking Butcher.  

He hated him.  

And it was beautiful. Feeling something towards someone. The closest he had ever come to that before Billy had been Madelyn. Loving Madelyn. 

But Madelyn had betrayed him, love itself had betrayed him. He had his loved his son, as well, and his son had betrayed him. 

Hate could not betray you. There was nothing Billy could do that might cause Homelander to stop hating him. 

Billy had taken his son away. Had taken away his one and only chance at redemption. 

Homelander would hate him until the day he dies. 

And there was something comforting about that. Homelander’s world was being thrown upside down, he was held by the fucking balls by Maeve. Everything was messed up. The only constant thing in his life now was Billy fucking Butcher. 

So he watched him. When Maeve told him what to do, when Starlight smiled and waved and he couldn’t punch the life out of her, when he remembered how, when burned, Stormfront had spoken only of her husband and daughter. When his new position in the Seven hit him in the face. Then he watched Billy, and felt the hatred and knew that at least one thing would never ever change. 

He watched Billy in his sparce apartment, laying around and drinking. He watched him at his job, he watched him when he visited Homelander’s son.  

Ryan was now living in a small town with Grace Mallory. He went to school now. He met other boys now. He played with them, he didn’t hurt them, they even liked him. 

Homelander could have had that when he was growing up. 

Ryan also had Billy. Butcher went to Mallory’s home every weekend and spent time with Homelander’s son.

Homelander’s son. Not Billy fucking Butcher’s. 

Ryan didn’t seem to remember that, though. He was always waiting by the road when Billy’s car approached, prepared with stories about his week or demands as to how they should spend their time.  

Butcher stayed at the house for the whole weekend. He took Ryan to soccer practice and games and cheered him on. He taught Ryan and his friends how to make slingshots, and helped Ryan with his homework. 

Ryan loved him. Adored him. Looked up at him with wide eyes, leaned into his own arms hugs and held on to him tightly. 

As if Homelander needed any more reasons to hate Butcher. 

So, he watched. He watched Billy with Ryan, allowing their growing closeness to fuel his hatred. 

But as he watched Butcher, Homelander could not help up learn about him. He didn’t want to. He wanted to keep Billy as a dark, unknown figure, a vassal for his fury.  

It didn’t work. Slowly but surely, Billy Butcher became...someone.  

Someone very important. 

He was intelligent. He always knew how to assist Ryan with his homework, and how to explain things to him. In that stupid unit he was working in now, he was a keen observer who always seemed able to pick up on small, seemingly inconsequential things (that Homelander had not seen himself) that ended up being the key to solving the whole case. 

So, he wasn’t just a fucking mad man who didn’t fear Homelander.  

He was an intelligent fucking mad man who didn’t fear Homelander. 

And he was a leader. And he was soft and calm with Ryan. And he somehow, somehow, managed to get Ryan to activate his laser eyes and super strength. 

Homelander hated him. He hated him so fucking much.  

He kept on watching. 

He watched Butcher drinking with the black and French men and sleeping and showering (he was fit, he had a nice body, Homelander hated him) and one night he caught him masturbating. 

Watched as Butcher lay on his sofa, dressed in a blue T-shirt and nothing else.  

HIs head was thrown backwards on the sofa arm and his hand was fisted around his rock-hard cock, the tip already shiny with pre come. Homelander had missed most of the action. 

Homelander startled. Wondered what he should do. 

He watched. 

Watched Billy’s long and thick cock, watched it become wet with semen as Billy came. Watched as Billy gasped and moaned. Watched as he whispered Becca.  

Homelander thought that perhaps, he hated Becca Butcher. That perhaps, he hated her more then Billy Butcher. 

Perhaps he didn’t hate Billy Butcher at all. 

Perhaps he- 

Oh. Oh fuck

Fucking Billy Butcher. Billy fucking Butcher.