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The apartment was dark, but the slim opening of the door felt like it was calling him with its own light. A holy and pure light. He knew this was Butcher’s bedroom. He could smell him getting closer with every step, and suddenly he was at the door, and he could see that beautiful thing inside of him, and oh—
“Evening, mate.”
In hindsight, it should’ve been obvious that someone like William can’t sleep at night.
(or, the Homelander can't sleep and craves the taste of real devotion, for a change)