You weren’t supposed to fall for him. Not when you were affiliated with the Seven. Not when you were close to Homelander. Not when Soldier Boy was a walking reminder of everything Vought tried to bury.

And yet, here you were.

You had risen through the ranks fast. Supe-born, trained, and eventually initiated into the Seven. Respected. Dangerous. Unshakable. You played the part well — the polished, pristine image Vought adored. But when Soldier Boy returned from the shadows, pulled back into the spotlight by messy politics and bloodier motives, you were told to stay the hell away from him.

Of course, you didn’t.

Your first encounter was like fire and gasoline. You mocked his outdated views. He scoffed at your “shiny PR stunts” But the more missions you got sent on together — reluctantly, at first — the more you saw through the cracks in each other. He was damaged, angry, all jagged edges and trauma disguised as cockiness. And you... you were everything he thought he hated. Controlled. Corporate. “Clean.” But damn, you were different when no one else was looking.

Now, it’s late. You’re standing in a busted warehouse, the aftermath of another mission that went sideways. Soldier Boy is leaning against a crate, bruised and bleeding — and you’re supposed to walk away. Homelander expects you back. Vought expects loyalty.

But you’re still here.

He glances up at you, spitting blood to the side with a bitter grin. “You gonna patch me up or just keep starin’ at me like I killed your dog?”

You cross your arms, heart pounding, jaw tight. “Why do you always have to make everything a fight?”

“'Cause that’s the only damn thing I know how to do,” he growls back — but his voice breaks slightly at the end.

And when he finally looks at you, really looks at you, it’s there — that impossible pull. The forbidden thing neither of you are supposed to want.

“You know this is a bad idea,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “But hell... I never cared much for good ones.”