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Cheers and applause ring out from the TV.
It’s Homelander’s birthday.
Even if it’s a day Vought handpicked for ultimate viewership, at the very least it’s still his day.
You’d watched the celebration cross-legged in front of the TV, taking in every detail of his expression. It was dark now, of course. Normally he would’ve snuck off to your apartment by now, but these were peak viewership hours. Your heart clenched, trying to will some semblance of happiness into him across the city, wishing you could tell him he wasn’t alone.
He knew you were watching. His little secret he kept hidden away, tucked inside an unsuspecting apartment in Manhattan.
He’d smile, wave, and say his little lines like the good poster boy he was. Well, until he could sneak away to his little slice of heaven and get away from it all.
You tied off the last bit of yarn in your nimble fingers. It was plush and soft.
The little stuffed eagle you’d been pouring your heart into momentarily blocked your line of sight of the TV as you held its delicate body in front of your eyes.
What do you get the man who has everything at his fingertips, and nothing at the same time?
Do you get him something one of his assistants could bring him in a second? Soap or cologne he’d only pretend to like? Another nonsensical book he wouldn’t really read? There wasn't any good options, nothing truly heartfelt.
It took weeks to crochet, and learning how to do it was no easy feat.
“Thank you again, everyone, for the birthday wishes! But I want all of you to remember—you're the real heroes!”
Your eyes glanced behind the plush creature you’d made to the TV.
His eyes were sad even though he smiled so brightly.
He hated today; he always did. But it was attention, and he’d take it, even if it only rubbed salt farther into his wounds.
Never knowing his real birthday, and never getting to have a genuine, sincere celebration made it hard to put on a fake one.
It was his first one since he’d taken a liking to you, and you’d fix that. Looking back on all the stupid televised celebrations they'd put on for him for years, it made you sick thinking about how truly alone he must've felt all those years before you'd met him.
You sighed as you grabbed the doll needle, threading it with ease. It slid past the soft yarn like nothing and hooked through the little black eyes you’d picked out. You worked gingerly, love in each stitch.
The little crochet eagle came to life in your hands.
His charismatic voice brought the show back to the forefront of your mind. “-Goodnight everyone!” He fake smiled and waved as he finally walked off stage, but it quickly turned into a scowl just before the camera panned back to center.
Yep. That guy was totally fired.
You hugged the little eagle close to your chest as you stood, smiling quietly to yourself.
It fit inside the little box you’d picked out snuggly.
You set the package on the little table in front of the couch, turning to fluff the pillows and blankets you’d set out to make the night as comfortable as possible.
The program behind you switched to Cameron Coleman. Homelander’s birthday special was officially over.
You absentmindedly turn off the TV off with a click.
It took a lot to keep your fluttering heart under control. Butterflies.
He’d be home soon; his real home.
This wasn’t somewhere he had to be someone else. It took a long time to get it through to him, but he didn’t put the fake smile on for you anymore. He came to you vulnerable, jealous, angry. It didn't matter if he was soaked in blood or soaked from the rain, you’d always understand.
The unmistakable ruffle of his cape caught your attention. You looked up just as his red boots graced the concrete balcony on the other side of the glass.
He was smiling, but those blue eyes of his were still sad.
You hurried over to the door, you’d fix that.
The dull throb in his chest eased as he smiled back at you earnestly.
You smiled brightly as you flung the door open, grabbing his hand and dragging him inside the little sanctuary you loved sharing with him. “Happy Birthday!”
The weight of the world left his shoulders as he crossed the threshold, letting you drag him along.
He always loved your forwardness about things.
You gave him understanding eyes as you led him over to the soft space you’d made for him. “How was it? Did you have fun today?”
“You know it’s not really for me.” He sighed as he gathered his cape to the side and sat down. It really wasn’t, none of it was.
You smiled, gently cupping his face for a moment to gaze into his eyes. “I know, I know.”
The rest of the world would never see the suffering he hid so carefully. He’d shown his pain and loneliness to you alone, the only one who’d ever hold him like this. He loved attention, but the care and compassion you always showed him was beyond any of that. For you, he was a gentle giant, pliant in your hands.
Your heart fluttered in your chest as your fingertips left his jaw, moving to grab the little gift from the table to lighten things up a little. “But I am! Aaaaaand-” You held the modest box out happily. “So is this!”
He smiled genuinely. You’d even lined the box with cheap sheets of zinc. Good thinking.
“Why are you so nervous?” He chuckled as he took the fragile thing in his hands, setting it in his lap.
Of course he could tell; he could read people better than they could read themselves.
You sighed as you sat down beside him. “I just really hope you like it.”
He scoffed. “You don’t have to be nervous! I’ll love it. And the zinc—now that was a good touch. I haven’t gotten a surprise gift like this since... well, that wasn’t exactly a gift."
His thoughts would go anywhere but where either of you wanted them to.
“Stop thinking! Open it!” You gestured to the box with a laugh, glancing back and forth between his expression and the box excitedly.
Your heart beating faster in anticipation was music to his ears.
He’d play nice and give you what you wanted. Besides, he wanted to know why on earth you could possibly be so nervous about something so trivial.
He lifted the little cardboard lid, the little box slipping out from underneath it and landing back down in his lap ceremoniously.
A little pair of black eyes stared back up at him.
Your little heart was pattering away like a rabbit as you waited for his reaction.
He scrunched his brows and smirked, gently pulling the little guy from the box and holding it awkwardly, turning it in his hands. “Where’d you get this little guy?”
You shifted a bit, twiddling with your thumbs. “I made it for you.”
He paused for a moment, still holding it out in front of him.
“You—you made this?” He smiled, looking over the bundle of soft yarn and stuffing with a newfound appreciation as he looked over the loops of yarn.
You nodded happily.
His eyes weren’t so sad, but he still seemed wary. “You really made this just for me?”
You laughed as you nodded again. He always needed reassurance, but you were always ready to give. Your heart wasn’t hammering anymore, just beating sweetly as you looked at him with those caring eyes like always. “Just for you. Do you like it?”
He seemed so taken aback it was almost funny.
“Like it? I love it! I-I don’t even know what to say. This is… perfect.” He smiled as his eyes finally met yours. He’d never had a stuffed animal, let alone one so special. “Thank you.”
You smiled ear to ear as you practically jumped on him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. “I’m so happy you love it so much!”
He laughed lightheartedly. “This is the best gift I think I’ve ever been given.”
You laughed sweetly, snuggling against him just a little tighter.
He leaned back, pulling you against him with one arm and holding the little stuffed eagle protectively in the other, matching your genuine smile as you both relaxed into the couch.
“I’ll cherish it forever. Just like you.”