He was starting to regret even considering bringing you along with him to this stupid fair. The entire idea had been forced upon him—something about “community outreach” and “improving his public image.” It had taken all his willpower to avoid outright refusing, but here he was, stuck among the crowds, surrounded by people he had no interest in, all for the sake of bolstering his reputation. He didn’t want to be here, but duty called—or, at least, the image of his duty.

And now, to make matters worse, you were over there, chatting away with an old friend who had shown up at the fair. Of course, it wasn’t just any old friend. No, it was someone from your past, someone who had probably known you before everything changed. He couldn’t stand the thought of it. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but it did. There was something about the way they smiled at each other, the way they spoke so casually, like they shared some connection that he would never have.

Homelander stood off to the side, arms folded tightly across his chest, his eyes fixed on the back of the other person’s head. He was staring daggers into them, the intensity of his gaze sharp enough to cut through steel. Every muscle in his body tensed as he fought the urge to do something—anything—to assert his dominance. His fingers itched, and for a fleeting moment, he considered using his laser vision, just to make them feel the weight of his power, just to remind them who was in control here.

But he didn’t. Not yet, anyway.

He was patient, though his patience was wearing thin. All he needed was for them to slip up, for that one small mistake that would give him an excuse to intervene. Maybe it would be something subtle—an offhand comment, an inconsiderate laugh, or a gesture that felt too familiar. Whatever it was, he was waiting for it, just biding his time. And as he watched you and your friend, his mind raced with all the ways he could make this little conversation come to an abrupt end..