The Spartan was polishing his gun, reminiscing the war and everything in between.
He remembered how he almost shot the Arbiter up through his unprotected jaw when they found the Spartan. What a mistake that would have been, considering what they were able to accomplish as allies.
Taking down the Prophets. Taking down Gravemind. The Flood. Saving Cortana and stopping the activation of the Ark.
Basically saving every life form in the universe.
Together.
Honestly, he didn't know what to think right now.
-o-o-o-
Thel was leaning over a desk, panting.
Images kept flashing through his head. The Demon against the wall, under his mercy. The touch of the Spartan. The sounds of his moans.
His hands gripped the edges of the table so hard they crumpled like putty under his hold.
All he wanted was to go out there. Find him. And fuck that green armored body to the Rings and back. To feel that Demon form fight and submit under him. Make the Chief cum so many times he could barely stand.
Thel Vadum's entire body shook.
No. He couldn't do that. Not yet.
With a suppressed and seriously frustrated growl, he ripped the shelf from its permanent fixture on the floor, bolts and chunks of carpet and metal flying past, as he threw the whole thing to the other side of the room. It landed with a crash and shook the quarters.
But Arbiter didn't care.
He turned to the next thing to uproot and destroy, to distract him from the urge to find the Demon and make him rightfully his.
-o-o-o-
Master Chief found himself wandering aimlessly.
He had no orders and no Cortana to distract him. So it had just been a long dragging day of thinking.
Which he despised.
He was a man of action. He did things without thought, going off of instinct and training alone. So this whole... ordeal with the Elite. It did not sit well in his mind.
He found his feet taking him to the one place he did where this all started. The clearing.
And he was halfway into it before he realized he was not alone.
The Arbiter was sitting there. Same spot.
Still as a rock.
Because he knew the Spartan had stumbled in.
Seriously thinking to do an about face and hightail it outta there, Master Chief halted in his tracks.
But the Arbiter's voice cut through the sudden tension in the air, "Have you thought about it, Demon?"
Reflexively scratching his head -pointless really with his armor- John admitted, "*Still* thinking about it. Actually."
"What is there to think about?" That dark gaze was piercing as it shot his way, hitting its mark past the Spartan gear and making a shiver run down his spine. That look alone threatened to consume him, and he could see the clear signs of struggle the Sanghelli currently faced, trying not to get up and approach him.
"Everything." Chief said pointedly.
"You... have never been in a relationship, have you Demon?" A calculating look crossed the Sanghelli's face.
"No comment." Master Chief answered, voice and hidden face a mask.
But the Arbiter was not put off. If anything, he looked more interested. Curious. He started slowly, "Did you not find out interaction... satisfactory?"
The Spartan grew rigid. Glad for the protection and cover of his armor, sure from the way his face heated up that his cheeks burned at the question. He looked away, repeating adamantly, "No comment."
"Stubbornness is a great quality in an adversary. But we are not foes here. Not anymore." Thel stated, standing. He watched as the Spartan stiffened even more at the movement, fingers twitching, as though to reach for his sidearm. The other's uncharacteristic nervousness made him smirk.
The Demon may not have answered his questions verbally, but he knew the truth. And it was endearing to know how such a tantalizing prospect as them, being together more intimately, affected the Demon. The Sanghelli made no move to come closer as he continued, "I make no idle promises. So know this, Demon, should you agree with this. With us. I will show you pleasures you have not seen nor experienced before. I will take you to heights unimagined, only to bring you back to the brink again. And again. Your only regret will be not taking advantage of this sooner."
Master Chief just stood there, speechless. He honestly did not know what to say in response to that. Being a Spartan, everyone else was simply too afraid to approach him. Too afraid to offer. The Arbiter was obviously none of these.
If anything his boldness, his forwardness, it stirred a heat in him he had not known existed.
"I... see." John finally managed, after clearing his suddenly dry throat.
The Sanghelli merely watched him, amused and forcedly patient, as the Demon nodded and quickly made his retreat.
-o-o-o-
"Sergeant Johnson."
"Chief! Long time no see!" The black soldier greeted in his usual upbeat attitude. It had been touch and go after their visit to the Ark, but the stubborn man had made it. Alive. Just barely.
"What do you know about... relationships?" John asked hesitantly.
"Ho ho ho, son. You tellin' me you got hooked up with some pretty little female tail?" Sergeant Johnson slapped his thigh, "Well I'll be damned. We've only been on the reserve for four days!"
"Not quite, Sergeant. And... I was thinking more... along the lines of two guys-"
The cigar dropped completely out of the black man's mouth as he shouted, "Oh no, nuh uh! It apparently has NOT been long enough. You got me confused with some damn re-lationship counselor or some bull."
"Sir, I was just wondering-"
"Nope! We are most definitely NOT talking 'bout this!"
"-if you *knew* anything about-"
At which point the Sarge stuck his fingers in his ears, singing "La, la, la, not listening!" in an off key way, as he pointedly turned and left in another direction.
Master Chief stared after him, stumped.
Was it something he said?
-o-o-o-
The door barely opened.
"Took you long enough." A deep voice nearly snarled, before a large hand grasped his chestplate and bodily jerked him inside. Master Chief had to restrain his automatic reaction, wanting to counter the bold grab with a pivot or a flip, or just plain breaking the bone. That usually worked.
But he was not in a battlefield. And no matter how fast his heart was racing, this was still a choice he had made.
"You don't even know my answer." Chief, amused, stated as he was dragged through the room.
"Don't need to. You're here. That's enough for me."
"What happened here?" Chief noted, surprised as he took in the state of the room.
"Restraint. To stop myself from going out, finding you, ripping your armor off and fucking you to the ground in front of everyone."
Chief found it difficult to swallow, picturing how that would have gone down. "That bad, huh?"
"Yes." Arbiter leveled him with a serious glare, "Considering I don't share. Ever."
Chief shrugged, "Me neither."
"Good."
"I'm not going to make this easy for you, you do realize that?"
There was a hidden gleam in the look the Arbiter shot him, pleased, "Good."
"And like I said before. I don't submit to anyone."
Arbiter grinned, "We'll see about that."
Within an instant, Chief found himself stunned, having been flung back into the wall to daze him. Arbiter immediately went to work. He must have done his homework, because he had the Spartan chest plate armor and both arm plates unclasped and laying useless on the floor before Chief could blink.
He moved to stop the Sanghelli, but the
Arbiter countered by plastering himself over the Chief like a blanket, busy mandibles nibbling any exposed area of skin he could find while the other played dirty and went straight for the crotch. The Spartan gasped at the sensations. He wasn't used to being touched, much less caressed and stroked across his bare skin. And apparently the Arbiter had a pointed fixation in touching every inch of him that he could.
"You're still... Ngh... overdressed." Chief managed past a pleasurable hiss as the Elite nibbled on his pectorals.
Thel looked back up at him with a shadowed gaze, "We will get to that, soon enough. Presently, you should be more concerned with what I am going to do to you before that point. How much stamina does a Spartan have?"
"I don't see how that's relevant-" Chief started to say suspiciously, before his remaining leg suit and boots suddenly dropped to the floor, leaving him entirely naked except for his helmet. The Spartan looked quickly down, then back up as he said a delayed, "...Oh."
"Hmm, 'oh' indeed." The Sanghelli purred, eyes greedily raking over the perfectly sculpted form as he hovered inches from the other, palms flat on the wall at either side of the suddenly silent Demon.
Not to be outgunned in any form, Chief used the distraction, which had a red flush blossom along his skin at the intense admiration, to throw himself at the Arbiter, managing to unclasp and take off that pesky chest plate armor. Before it even clanked to the floor, the Elite pivoted and rammed the Spartan up against an overturned desk, the flat underside now horizontal and perfect to shove that vulnerable body against. Not to mention the jutting out legs easily caged them in, the Spartan needing nothing short of physically shoving him backwards in order to get away.
The familiar sting of getting his back slammed was offset by the not so familiar pleasure spiking from his freed cock being ground against the now naked lower abdomen of the Elite.
The Elite spread him open, insatiable as he finally rammed his wet aching cock inside. It was hard, the Demon had made it so difficult. But it was well worth it.
The Arbiter cried out just as loud as the Demon. He wasn't going to go easy on the Spartan. He had warned him. And the Chief had merely smirked. The Elite felt his heart melt as he was able to actually see that smirk on that handsome face, rather than feel it resonate from behind a green and golden mask.
John called out Thel Vadum's name, voice choking with the sudden fullness, and it spurred the other to drive harder into him.
Even now, the other fought, trying to pull himself off of that pulsating rod. With an angry snarl, Thel grabbed John's bare hips, and unforgivingly thrust himself back in. Deep enough to hit that special bundle of nerves and make the Demon cum on the spot.
John was gasping, looking at Thel with wonder. He had never come so suddenly, so powerfully before without warning.
"Oh, there is more." Thel promised, voice thick with lust and confidence.
He started up again, the pace just as hard, just as fast. Just as relentless. And he would take him across every surface, going once around the room against the wall, on the floor, at one point he had the Spartan clinging to the banister, before finally ending up with the Chief forcefully slammed into the bed.
Chief arched and writhed on the sheets, feeling the Arbiter angling his descent, trying to hit that spot again. When he did the Spartan came with a white hot sensation, Thel's name pouring from his lips as his load released once more from his aching shaft. Thel growled, drinking in the sounds. The sights. Memorizing the angle and the position of the nerves. He rammed into his Spartan again and again, making the Demon quiver and cum more times than either could keep track of. And as promised, the Arbiter pounded into the demon well into the night and even into the predawn light. As the Spartan reached his peak over and over again, thighs trembling and cock feeling spent after each release but rising to the occasion with the insatiable skill of the Sanghelli, both discovered the stamina of the Demon to be great indeed.
But not nearly so great as the Arbiter's unquenchable thirst