Chapter Text
"Why don't you go cook up some breakfast," Ben drawled, his sleepy, fucked out voice against his Butcher's neck.
He didn't want to cook that cunt breakfast. Not after the last few hours. He'd been teased, denied, humiliated, used, and hurt for his pleasure.
He wouldn't admit to liking it too, but he didn't get to finish either time. He thought it was unfair. He didn't like his walls being torn down like that. Making him do things he's uncomfortable doing.
It's unfair for Ben to expect him to throw away his pride for some asshole supe he would have hunted without a thought.
Maybe he didn't deserve fairness.
He started to say, "no, fuck off, ya rude cunt," but the thought of his own raw and bleeding ass cheeks popped in his head. Instead he huffed, and stiffly crawled out of bed. He refused to look at Soldier Boy, sure he was sporting a smug look.
They both knew he'd get up and do it, Butcher was desperate to be needed because he sure as hell wasn't wanted.
He had to do things for people, to keep them around before he inevitably ran them off, or got them killed.
He needed to focus on anyone but himself, or he'd end up sucked down a dark pit of guilt, regret, self-hatred, and a buried longing for love and affection.
"Scrambled eggs and bacon sounds real nice," Ben called after him, he could hear the shit-eating grin on his face.
Butcher did it all anyway, he made coffee, eggs scrambled in butter, some fat and crispy bacon, and buttered toast.
Ben came in just as he finished plating it, he was yet again wearing a fresh pair of Butcher's pants.
"Mate, I bought ya clothes, why the fuck d'ya keep stealin' mine," He was miffed, "ya planning on ruinin' that pair too?" He set Ben's plate down with a hard clink.
"Well I wasn't planning on it, but when you say it like that, maybe I should," he smirked, taking his plate and coffee. He made sure to pour at least a few shots worth of whiskey into his mug.
Butcher was fuming, but he didn't say anything else. Ben was hoping for another push back, more fight meant more fun. Butcher was full of fight before he'd saved him the second time.
He knew he was chipping away at him, tearing down his walls, and taking his control, but he thought he was using a chisel, not a fucking jackhammer. He couldn't help but feel there was something Butcher was hiding from him.
Ben took his plate and black coffee, and sat on the couch. Butcher ate at the bar, more like picking at his food, but he looked serious, and upset.
He hadn't had much of an appetite since he started taking the temp v. The doctor said it's because of the brain lesions. Luckily he hadn't had to deal with any harsher symptoms than his lack of appetite, nausea, and headaches so far.
He pushed the plate away, and pulled out the pills he was prescribed. He shook two out and dry swallowed them.
Ben was inhaling everything in front of him like he was starved, which he could have been, it did take almost two months for them to pull off his second rescue.
He needed to go see the boys, and come up with a plan to get rid of Neuman before she causes problems, then he had to get Ryan away from Homelander. He had too much to do for him to sit around and let a supe fuck with him. He didn't have time for this.
He left his untouched plate on the bar next to the shit he bought yesterday, and went to change into real clothes.
He came back out, coat swaying dramatically behind him, he had yet to put on boots. Ben finished his food, the empty dishes were left on the coffee table. There was weed strewn out next to them, he was working on rolling his second joint.
Billy was ready to leave, and ignore the exasperating supe's presence in his apartment, but smoking didn't sound too bad at that moment. Maybe it'd help get his appetite back.
"Where're you goin," Ben asked nosily, in a playful tone, not looking away from the task at hand. He debated on telling him. Why does he give a shit? Did he actually care, or was he just gonna fuck with him?
"What's it t' you?" He asked challenging Ben, who just raised his eyebrows like saying, really?.
He knew that was the only answer he was gonna get when Ben silently went back to his task. He hadn't expected to get much of one, and it was better than being ignored. Maybe he wanted to hear Ben admit to caring about him, but he was entirely too aware that he didn't.
He could say the boys cared, but he'd made sure they knew he didn't care. He didn't want any of them to care about him. They weren't family, it didn't matter if he wanted them to be. He couldn't hurt his family again, that was something he had too much experience in.
"Gonna pay the boys a visit, start gettin' a plan togetha'," he said simply, before sitting on his uncomfortable couch on the opposite side of Ben. Getting stoned sounded like a pretty good idea right about now.
Ben sparked it up, puffing on it a couple of times, smoke shrouded his face." The boys, huh? Were you planning on taking me , or do I get to sit here, alone?" He asked, passing the herb stuffed paper over.
"Well, actually, was gonna leave you here. It's been all of two days since we broke ya out, again, they're little peepers are gonna be out there, lookin fer ya. Besides, the boys ain't really fans," he said quickly, the thought of accidentally pissing the older man off filled him with anxiety.
"Mmm, yeah fuck that , I'm going," he said matter-of-factly, they were about half way through the joint. He rolled two or three more while they sat there, his hands were constantly going. No wonder he's trying to get out of here.
He really didn't want to take him, the boys wouldn't like it, especially M.M., he'd be so pissed. He couldn't do that to them.
Soldier Boy smashed the burnt roach out, and lit up another. Butcher was tastefully stoned. Loose and heavy. He didn't want to get up, he blinked slowly, and his eyes squinted with bloodshot whites.
His place looked smoky, it could be him, but he just hoped his neighbors didn't smell and he'd have to move again. He was finally high enough to have the courage to speak up.
"You need t' stay here, can't have you gettin' loose, n' blowin shit up," his accent was thicker than usual, shit, he didn't realize how fucked up he was.
The other man was quiet as he took a long hit. He left the half out joint in his mouth, and blew the smoke out of his nose. Butcher had no idea when he turned around , how long had he been staring at him?
He's pissed , Butcher knew it, saw it coming. He regretted saying anything- Why the fuck is he so scared, he's acting like a pussy. He's not his dad.
No, but he is a supe. He could hurt him just as easily.
"Did you… just tell me what to do?" Soldier Boy asked slowly, his voice was low, dangerous, threatening. Ben fumed as he wondered what the fuck he'd spent the last day doing, cause he thought that he'd been training Butcher to be a good boy for him.
Butcher was still learning, but he'd show him, Ben is the one who does the ordering. He's gonna have to make it stick. Beat it into his thick skull, it's the only way to get through to a hate filled, revenge driven man like him.
"Yeh, I did, so stop bein' a bleedin' twat and work with me here." He raised his voice a little bit, refusing to back down. He turned fully towards Ben, who leisurely puffed at the neverending joint… or did he just light a third one? It didn't matter. He stopped passing it a while ago.
"We ain't killin' anyone yet. Gotta do the research, yeah? Ya won't do anythin' 'cept make the boys nervous," he calmed a little, having gotten his point across.
Ben looked him in the eye as he took it in. He loved the fire in him for a second. He challenged Ben, raised his voice, and told him what to do. It was audacious, and infuriating, but It just meant there was more fun to be had before Butcher submitted.
Butcher had a point, but it was the principle of it, and the rules were made clear when he started this.
He rose faster than Butcher's toasted mind processed, and slapped his cheek. The force took him by complete surprise, knocking him to the side, his face hit the middle cushion. Ben hadn't meant to hit him that hard, he forgot that Butcher didn't have his supe strength anymore.
Still, he didn't relent, one broad hand grabbed the top of his throat securely, the other gripped into his coat, and drug him up by the armrest. He was rolled onto his back by the swift movement.
The hand held him on his back as an almost crushing weight straddled him. The black spots from the bruising slap dissipated, and Ben snatched his left wrist in an iron clasp.
Butcher was heaving breaths that turned into struggling squeaks of air as they fought past the pressure on his throat. He pointlessly tried to get away from the hands.
"Do you wanna try that again? Huh ?" He got louder and louder, yelling in Butcher's face, who started clawing at his fingers with his one hand, a feral look in his eyes. He bucked and squirmed with renewed energy, sobering quickly as he lost his ability to breath completely.
"Who the fuck do you think you are? You don't tell me what to do, no one does that!" He screamed, letting go of his throat and slapped Butcher again. His head was thrown to the side, and his struggles stopped suddenly. Ben had to admit, he kinda lost it for a second there. He didn't mean to, but Butcher had to learn his place.
Discipline is hard sometimes, and judging from Butcher's lifetime of scars, he already knew that.
He stopped screaming in the other man's face, and grabbed Butcher's neck again, finding the same reddened spot easily. He wasn't choking him, but he was forceful, a clear unvoiced order to follow as he eased Butcher's head back up to face him.
Butcher breathed greedily, coughing with relief. He hated how much that reminded him of his old man. He just wanted to tear his head off or walk away. He couldn't do either, Ben was too strong for him to fight effectively. He tried to ignore the unwelcome heat stirring in his belly.
He released Butcher's reddened neck, and wrapped around his lower jaw instead, holding his head still. He wasn't forceful as he tilted his head to make him look Ben in the eye, and he watched closely as Butcher regained some energy, and clarity after being choked, and slapped.
His breaths were still labored, but his struggles renewed. The hand on his jaw was a complete one-eighty compared to a minute ago, he had been sure his neck was gonna snap under Soldier Boy's weight.
He wiggled, and looked at the door momentarily, showing him he hadn't given up, he was weak but still defiant. His only free hand was uncoordinated, having lost his energy, but it still rose In useless attempt at defending himself.
He loosely held the wrist that firmly grasped his jaw. Ben held on a little tighter, growling possessively, and Butcher loved that sound.
Heat flooded him, harsher now, spurred on by the intense gaze, his cock filled and tented his jeans slightly, the tight material confined him uncomfortably.
Butcher cursed his body for reacting like that. He should be ready to fight, not fuck. He didn't understand what was wrong with him, they saved Soldier Boy two days ago, now here he was, on his back wishing Ben would just touch him already.
Ben leaned down and bit Butcher's bottom lip, which made the other man gasp, drawing blood before kissing him fully. He hastily licked up the thin drops of dark liquid, delighting in the needy response from Butcher as he pushed against him.
Butcher couldn't keep up, just like last night. The taste of copper was intense as Ben aggressively made out with him. He was anything but loving as he easily dominated his mouth, biting his lips and winding the other man like a jack in the box.
Ben's face pulled away abruptly as his own was turned up to the ceiling by the hand on his beard, staring distantly as Ben carried the assault onto his neck. Butcher squirmed under him, loving the attention.
Ben removed his hand so he could suck a hickey into the underside of his jaw, making the weaker man moan brokenly. Billy let go of Ben's wrist to curl calloused fingers into his soft hair, his oscillating grip telling Ben just where to bite and how good it felt.
His free hand slid down his clothed chest before easily slipping it under his shirt. Butcher tensed and trembled, unexplained anxiety buzzed in his gut. He fought the urge to run away, maybe he'd get more out of it this time.
The anger seeped out of Ben, he loved getting him worked up like this, it was only the third time and he was absolutely intoxicated by it. All the whores and old women he'd been with had already been used like this.
They'd experienced all their first time squeals a long time before they had the pleasure of being with him. But Butcher was new. Vocal and sensitive like a teenage boy, so needy for release.
The material of his Hawaiian shirt bunched up as Ben ghosted his nails over his side, making him twitch away in surprise. Ben grinned in amusement against Butcher's abused neck, continuing his path up to his nipple.
Ben delicately rubbed his rough thumb pad across the velvety skin. Butcher jerked at the contact, then arched desperately underneath him, pushing up into his hand.
Goosebumps broke across his skin as his nipples hardened under his touch. He whimpered at Ben's relentlessness, he refused to ease up on his teasing, Butcher tugged harshly, and probably would have yanked Ben's hair out if he could.
Ben ground into Butcher's stomach, groaning lowly with satisfying friction. It was possessive, hungry, and horny. It made Butcher's cock twitch, he couldn't hold back a needy thrust that barely poked Ben's ass.
The wrist in his grasp tugged and pulled, not trying to get away, just feeling too much to sit still. The fingers in Ben's hair trembled helplessly. He needed more, needed what Soldier Boy denied him.
" Damn ," Ben moaned in Butcher's ear, " a little nipple play got you all worked up, huh sweetheart? You're so fucking sensitive it drives me crazy," he continued, making Butcher squirm and whine beneath him.
Ben's lust filled voice was almost enough to send him tumbling over the edge. his hips shot up in an aborted thrust as Ben lifted himself and scooted his firm ass across his clothed, swollen prick. He cried out hopelessly, and opened his eyes as Ben settled on his jean clad thighs behind his fly.
Butcher had been sinking slowly into the lightheaded euphoric state that he felt last night, not catching on to the floating feeling that had been getting stronger since Ben started kissing him. The thumb on his nipple, and sweet friction over his thighs, his voice sent him headfirst into subspace.
The world shrunk to a pinprick. He couldn't care that Soldier Boy was a supe. He forgot about killing Homelander, saving Ryan. It all melted away like it never existed. He was only interested in Ben's lips and hands. And if he was ever going to do what he needed.
He had never experienced subspace before Ben, especially since he was always the top in his relationships. He was oblivious to the change in his thoughts and feelings. His emotions ran high, he was overcome with neediness, and craving more.
Soldier Boy could tell Butcher was dropping into his subspace. He acted drastically different from his normally tough, and cruel demeanor. He became speechless and whiny, losing most of his fight, and letting his Dom mold him as he pleased.
Ben straightened, and admired his work, satisfied with himself. Butcher's lips were swollen, the tiniest smear of blood had dried from the first bite. His neck was marked beautifully, the hickeys stood out starkly, painting him in dark purples. Teeth imprints, reddened and glistening with spit and sweat.
His chest heaved under the ruffled shirt, his coat was slipping off his arms from squirming around. His muscular belly peeked out, his abs still twitched from Ben gliding over his crotch.
Ben pulled his own cock out, it shined with precome from grinding on Butcher. He looked into Butcher's half lidded eyes, which were slightly far away, visibly in subspace.
He fucked into his own hand, making his fingers slick before he freed Butcher from his jeans. The dark haired man gasped wildly, his hands fumbled, trying to hold on to something. They found their way to Ben's thighs, curling into the comfortable material of the borrowed pants.
"Wish you could see yourself, so fucking hot marked up like that," he said, his own gasp cutting off his praise. He ran a tantalizing hand across Butcher's stomach, relishing the tremble that rippled across beneath his skin.
He tried to push the distasteful dad shirt out of his way, but the smooth material fell back every time. It took Soldier Boy zero effort tear the shirt down the center, revealing a small amount of short, black hair, and a flushed red torso.
If Butcher wasn't buried in subspace he'd probably be mad about the shirt, but he didn't seem to care as Ben weighed him down again. He effectively trapped their cocks between their naked stomachs, they both groaned in pleasure, Butcher's cry was long drawn out, oversensitive from not being touched.
He blew teasing breaths over the supple flesh of Butcher's pink nipples. Letting them perk up before licking a stripe across one with the flat of his tongue. Butcher whined, jerking under him, trying his damnest to chase every sensation.
He bit, and sucked the sensitive nubs until they were swollen, glistening with spit. He had Butcher whining with overstimulation, they'd be sore later, he thought, preemptively kissing them soothingly.
"Mmmm, what a good boy, letting me take care of you, mark you up real pretty, takin' everythin' I got to give like you can't get enough, so good for me," he rambled between sucking hickeys into his chest. Butcher sobbed at the praise, bucking his hips .
Ben placed one last soft kiss to his solar plexus before straightening back up. His left hand rubbed circles into Butcher's stomach, right above his leaking member. The red shaft twitched uncontrollably in anticipation.
Ben grinned, drunk with power. He could control every aspect of their strange relationship, the weaker man was at his mercy. He could end him with little to no effort, or jerk his heavy dick to completion. It was all up to him and Butcher couldnt do a damm thing to stop him.
He was heady with the thought, still teasing Butcher. He was testing his patience, assuming Butcher would eventually grow irritated, and snap out of his obedient state. To his surprise and utter satisfaction, Butcher took it, happily soaking up every touch from him.
He was very pleased with his sub, and while he wasn't going to reward him this time, he would give him a preview of what's to come.
He suddenly wrapped a hot hand around both their pricks, Butcher was dripping so much precome it could've been used as lube. Butcher's purple, swollen tip lurched in his grasp as he tried to thrust into the tight heat. Ben's hand held his stuttering hips firmly to the couch, he could feel every breath hitch under his palm.
Butchers head rolled back, eyes fluttered in relief. He would be moaning loudly if it hadn't caught in his throat with the immense pleasure, his mouth was open in a silent cry.
He stroked them together, groaning at the skin contact. He wouldn't last to long, seeing Butcher worked up and desperate made his orgasm come in leaps and bounds, rather than a slowly building crescendo.
" Fuck baby, look at you, so pretty and desperate, so good for me, yeah? Are you a good boy?" He spoke ruggedly, not completely sure what he was saying that made Butcher unravel, nodding wildly.
Yes he was a good boy, he could be such a good boy for him. He could be good, and obedient, and pretty if it meant he'd give him release.
" Yeah? You been good ? Think you deserve a reward for behaving," his voice got higher, practically moaning the questions, Butcher nodded again, whining desperately, subspace left him unable to form coherent words.
Ben's voice came back, harsher this time, more of a growl as heat pooled in his pelvis."Gonna make you feel so good, wanna make you cum so hard you forget your own fucking name, " he groaned at the thought, hips jarring with Butcher's high moan.
Butcher was about to reach his peak, he shook, and started keening as he rapidly approached the precipice. His muscles spasmed with the intense tingling orgasm building in his gut.
He froze, unable to move his completely tensed muscles, waiting patiently for the hand to send him toppling. Then the hand was suddenly jerked away, halting his orgasm in its tracks.
He whined, frustrated tears filled his eyes, god he wanted release so bad . He clenched his fists weakly, hips thrusting with wild abandon, but getting absolutely nowhere.
Ben was still a solid weight on his thighs, still making wet noises above him. He felt so much, his convoluted thoughts clashed violently, overwhelming him.
He was angry at being teased, angry that the other man broke his promise and left him hanging.
He was a good boy… wasn't he?
He distantly wondered what it was the he did wrong, what made Soldier Boy think he'd been bad? Why was he denied what he so desperately needed, again ?
Ben abruptly bent, arching forward and catching himself with the hand he held Butcher's hitching belly. He came, body jerking as his cum spurted across Butcher's torso, spotting his chest with the sticky substance. His lust filled groans were choppy with gasps, his eyes clenched shut.
He worked the last few drops put of him, his balls were wrung dry. He was still trying to catch his breath when he finally forced his eyes open.
Butcher looked pitiful, laying there helpessly, his abused dick was wilting. His eyes were wet with tears, but he stoicly kept his trembling bottom lip closed, failing to keep from frowning.
"Butcher?" He couldn't keep the concern out of his voice, what the fuck happened? He didn't answer, still deep in his subspace, lost mentally. He didn't push, just let his Sub process everything, and come back on his own.
He rose off of Butcher's legs, making sure to be easy. He wet a rag, and cleaned himself off before going back to the trembling figure on the couch.
He set the mostly clean cum rag on the coffee table for whenever Butcher came out of subspace.
He settled onto the couch, not touching the dark haired man, and lit a joint he rolled before they started. He didn't have anything else to do, so he rolled more joints. He'd have to do it eventually anyway, this weed wasn't gonna smoke itself.
He was in the middle of rolling his ninth joint when Butcher started to stir. He heard him breathe first, deeply, like you do when you first wake up. There was a sharp downturn of his bitten lips. Ben watched dark eyes blink owlishly at the ceiling, before he noticed he was being stared at. He lifted himself on his elbows, finally seeing the state he was in.
He took in his torn shirt, the cum splattered across his chest that sat long enough to dry and crust to his skin. His shrunken dick was still sticking out of his fly. Embarrassment flooded his system, making his chest tight with anxiety, and his cheeks heat up with a bright flush.
He couldn't bring himself to look up at Soldier Boy, resigned to waiting on the Insults and shitty names.
"Christ Butcher, clean yourself up," he ordered like it was common sense, and threw the rag on his flushed chest," and don't be embarrassed, you aren't the first person I've left horny and covered in my semen."
He said it nonchalantly, but he didn't mention the fact that he never came back to those people. He didn’t tell Butcher that this was the first time he stayed for anyone, he hadn't even stayed for the aftercare with Crimson Countess.
Butcher toweled himself clean, and tucked his cock back in his jeans, hissing with pain and sensitivity. He turned around, facing the right way with his feet in
floor.
Ben silently passed him a joint, he took a long drag off of it, savoring the flavor. He was gonna have to smoke to deal with what just happened.
They were on their second joint, Butcher's head quieted as he got high. He forgot all about the ripped shirt hanging off him, and wasn't thinking about anything other than sitting there.
"You ready to see the boys?" Ben asked, not trying to mask his humor.
He shook his head, not ready to speak yet.
" Good boy."