Various x Male Reader

Casual Sex - Homelander

A young male steps out of his clothes, his bare feet sending chills across the cold floor. He grabs a towel from the rack hanging crookedly on the back of the door, its threadbare surface rough against his skin. He turns on the water, wincing as a rusty groan echoes through the pipes before a sputtering spray erupts from the showerhead.

He waits, counting silently under his breath as the water heats up. The minutes tick by, each one stretching into an eternity of anticipation. Finally, the scalding water begins to mingle with the cold, sending wisps of steam curling around the chipped porcelain walls.

He steps into the shower, letting out a sigh of relief as the hot water cascades over his tense muscles. He lathers up with cheap soap, the acrid scent filling the small space. He scrubs away the grime of the day, the memory of his dead-end job and the gnawing hunger in his stomach momentarily forgotten under the soothing torrent.

As the hot water washes over him, the male allows himself to close his eyes. He pictures himself somewhere else, someplace far removed from this dingy apartment. He imagines a pristine beach, the turquoise water lapping at his toes, the warm sun drying his skin. He breathes in the scent of salt and seaweed, the sound of crashing waves washing away the city's din.

But the dream is fleeting. The scalding water begins to cool, and the harsh reality of his situation seeps back in. He opens his eyes to the peeling paint and cracked tiles, the chipped showerhead spewing its meager spray.

He finishes his shower quickly, the cold air sending goosebumps prickling across his skin. He steps out, wrapping himself in the scratchy towel. He looks at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror, seeing not the sun-kissed beach bum of his daydream, but a skinny kid with tired eyes and haunted shadows under his cheekbones. He sighs, a gust of steam swirling around him like a fleeting wisp of hope. He knows he needs more than a hot shower to escape his reality. But for now, it's enough. It's a small victory, a stolen moment of warmth in the cold grip of his circumstances. And maybe, just maybe, it's the first step towards something better.

There was a tense silence throughout the bathroom, broken only by the dripping water from the showerhead and throaty cough coming from behind the young male. The males tired eyes peered at the man from the mirror, a low groan escaped past his slightly parted lips as he hung his head low. A pair of cold gloved hands held tightly onto his waist, the feeling of the scratchy towel no longer there instead replaced with the feel of fabric pressed against his back.

Blue eyes stared blankly at the mirror and the reflection of the younger male. The blonde's eyes bore holes into the youngers naked body as his cold hands trailed down the others outer thighs. His thumbs rubbing circles into the others hips, causing a shudder to run down the young male's spine.

"John," the younger huffed. He rolled his head back, letting it fall against the older man's shoulder as he pressed his clothed erection into the others lower back.

John smirked, the crease lines on his face becoming even more noticeable as he did. He leaned down, his chin resting against the males shoulder his eyes still fixated on the mirror. "I've been thinking about you," he breathed a slight chuckle following. He pressed his erection against the males ass, rubbing it up and down while groaning.

The younger rolled his eyes, pushing John aside and grabbing the towel that'd fallen from his waist. He didn't say a word, silently laughing to himself at the blonde's open mouth expression to being brushed off so easily. "And I'm sure you've been thinking about plenty of women too," he commented, earning a low growl from the man now beside him.