Halo - Angel and Demon

Ch 2

"John."

That voice had Master Chief freezing in place, taking stock of the fact that -yes- he was wearing his armor. He did a quick mental check. Arm guards, leg braces, chest plates, boots and most importantly... helmet. He had just stepped out of his room when he nearly ran into the chest of the one he barely avoided last night.

Had the Arbiter figured it out?

Fuck, what if he had?

What was the Spartan supposed to say?

'Hey Arby, yeah... I've been kind of lying to you this whole time because I think I have this huge secret crush on you that I absolutely refuse to allow myself to contemplate, because yeah...'

Brain stalled, the Chief blinked behind his golden visor, and said the only thing that came to mind as the perfect response, "Huh?"

Not noticing the Spartan's lapse, Thel continued, "I have a name for the blue-eyed angel. John."

Master Chief literally felt his heart start beating again, the blood returning to fuel the sarcastic side of his brain, among other bodily functions.

"Angel now, is it?" The Chief scoffed, side stepping to walk past the immovable object in front of his door.

The Elite didn't miss a beat as he matched his longer strides with the Spartan's, "I ran into him in this very hallway, discovered how swiftly he could move. It was as disconcerting as it was alluring. He may be even faster than you, Demon."

The Chief snorted, "Look, I still don't know why you bother. You being here this early in the morning tells me one thing. Nothing happened."

He had made damn sure last night. Just barely.

Mental note, take un-armored training sessions at more secure and un-arbiter filled areas, regardless of time of day.

It's definitely why he stopped using the communal shower areas and specifically requested he get a room with its own shower. Something that worked twofold as his room moved from being just next door to the Arbiter's, to something halfway across the ship.

"Trust me, if he had allowed me to spar with him, things would have ended much differently..." The Sanghelli promised in a tone that registered deeply in John's core.

"You are so full of it, Arbiter." The Chief covered his nervousness with a forced laugh, "It has been weeks, you've ran into the kid -what, twice?- and all you've gotten so far is ogling his goods and a name? I really don't see this going anywhere."

The Arbiter chuckled, brow ridge cocked, "Do not mistake my pace as anything other than respecting the truce between our races, Demon. Were he Sanghelli, I would have ravaged him every night and several times throughout the day since the first meeting. I daresay perhaps by now, he would have been able to walk normally."

The Spartan stumbled, before turning to stare at the Elite beside him. Out of all the things he could ask ask him -incredulously, mind you- the thing that slipped out of his short-circuited brain was, "Is that even possible?"

The Arbiter came to a full stop, mandibles slackening as he turned to stare at his smaller companion.

John immediately regretted the question, his armor feeling ten times too hot as he realized the implications of his words. The last thing he wanted, was the Arbiter thinking of his person sexually, both as the human John and the comrade-in-arms Demon.

The Spartan did the only thing he could think of to salvage the misstep.

Retreat.

Hands held up in surrender as his green armored boots started to walk again, "Forget I asked-"