The knock at the door was sharp, but not frantic. You weren’t expecting anyone that late at night. When you opened it, you were met with a familiar figure—Homelander, standing tall on your porch, his cape shifting slightly with the night breeze. His smile was there, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he said casually, like he had just dropped by as a neighbor, not the world’s most feared and celebrated hero.

You stepped aside, letting him in without asking questions. He moved into your living room, his eyes flicking around like he was checking for threats that weren’t there. His shoulders were tight, locked in a tension that didn’t belong to someone invincible.

“You, uh… busy?” he asked, but it wasn’t really a question. He sat down heavily on your couch, resting his gloved hands on his knees.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Just sat there, staring at the floor with his jaw clenched, his cape pooling around him. It was strange—Homelander, who could silence entire rooms with a glance, looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself in yours.

You sat beside him, careful not to push. After a while, you noticed the tiniest shift—his shoulders relaxing just slightly as if your quiet presence was enough to take some weight off him.

“Everyone wants something from me,” he muttered, almost too low to hear. “Save them, protect them, smile for them. But nobody just…” He stopped, catching himself, the confident mask sliding back into place for a moment. He smirked, shaking his head. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

In that moment, For once, Homelander wasn’t the terrifying, untouchable Supe. He was just a man who had come to you—not for praise, not for fear, but for something far rarer. Comfort.

ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ - ᴋᴀᴡᴀɪɪᴄᴀsss!!