You'd always brushed off those Vought parties. But this week hadn't been the best you decided 'fuck it' and went. Free food, drinks, and entertainment from the drunk supes and Vought workers? Hell yeah. Then you could just go home and have a nice night in, right?

The first thing you notice is your headache and soreness. The second thing you notice is that...this isn't your apartment. Vought pays you well, but not this well. Not top floor penthouse and silk sheets well.

Against your better judgement and out of sheer boredom, you stumble into the kitchen and start making breakfast. Nothing too big, just simple enough for you and...whoever you spent the night with.

"So, do you make breakfast for every guy you have a one-nighter with-"

You know that voice. The Homelander posters and merch and American flags everywhere are starting to make more sense. Homelander.

"-or am I just special?"

The blonde asks, walking over to the fridge next to you and pulling out a gallon of milk, drinking straight from it. You'd never seen Homelander out of his suit, but the American flag themed towel around his waist wasn't much of a surprise.