The Way Of The Spartan

III. Exploration

(18+ warning // masturbation) 

Chief was in bed, lying face up. He hasn't been able to sleep yet and it'll be morning soon. Somehow the hours are moving at a snail's pace. Chief runs his hands over his face before sitting up. The bunk is closed off as Chief reaches for the night table to turn the light on.

The dim yellow lighting illuminates the small space as he shifts around even more. He sits up in the bed, pushing his back to the wall at the head of the bed. The mattress conforms to his position. His eyes wander to the clock. It's 2:30. In two more hours, he'll need to get up.

He hasn't slept all night. You have been on his mind. It might've been annoying to an extent if he'd experienced it before. Bursts of images and sounds echoed loudly in his brain. Feelings hit like a freight train.

He shouldn't be focusing on this. On any of it. He let out a grunt of frustration. You were probably sleeping soundly in the medbay. This must've been some kind of ploy. A trick. You had probably lied about the Covenant. It was all a distraction.

Somehow the Elites knew Master Chief was going to be there. That he'd respond to the distress signal and it was all a trap. You running through the woods, your meeting, even the story you had fed him was a big fat lie.

Then another voice inside John's head spoke out. Why would she lie? She doesn't even know you. Maybe that's why you shouldn't trust her. "STOP!" Chief hissed softly. His mind rapidly switched gears. Then there was that kiss. Kiss(ES), there was more than one. The voice inside his head was better attuned to keeping up with the changing of topics.

He sighed softly, reaching up and running the pad of his finger across his mouth. His tongue darted out, sweeping over it. He was desperate to see if she still lingered there. Desperation. Another new feeling swept over his mind.

This feeling penetrated deeper, fusing with blood and bone. He could feel the peaks of his cheeks getting hot. Suddenly, the small space was suffocating. His mouth was going dry. He was shirtless already, but the desire to remove his own skin to breathe was debilitating.

He sighed once more. He pushed his palms against the blankets when he realized. The same thing that had happened earlier that evening was happening again. The color deepened in his cheeks as his hands moved over his cock. Why was there shame? He was alone.

With less thought than before, he moved his hand under the material of the pants he was wearing. His fingers conformed to his cock as they started to stroke and explore. Obviously, John knew the basic human anatomy, but he never knew anything like this could happen. His breath wavered as the touching grew to a firm grip. He really didn't know what he was doing.

He was picturing everything about you. The look of you. The smell. The way your lips moulded against his. The sharp and quick breath intakes between kisses. He felt like such a lightweight. It was semi dim in the bunk and he was sitting in bed, pumping his cock. It was wrong.

He couldn't help it. His heart was filtering blood through his veins as he started to pick up the pace. His breath was fleeting. He gasped softly as his head hit the wall with a soft thunk. His eyes were screwed shut as he licked his lips, desperate again for the taste of yours.

His stomach was burning hot and it just spread lower and lower. He was getting used to the feeling. His hand seemed to go faster. From his mouth, noises streamed their way past his teeth. Grunts, whimpers, and breathless gasps. The air around him had become wrought with moisture from his breath.

His mind was clouding over itself and soon, it felt like his body was beginning to seize up. It started in his toes and flooded through his muscle structure. Piercing through his groin, it moved quicker up to his brain. Like his blood had become electrified. His hips pulsated and wracked with hundreds of new and unfamiliar sensations.

Somehow his mind had kept up with you being his interest this whole time. He was going back to the core of everything: your lips. He rolled his hips as his fingers squeezed tightly around his cock. It might've hurt if he hadn't been drowning in the feeling of it.

He gasped like he'd been holding his breath for minutes at the time. His body went slack as he lifted his fingers from around his cock. A milky substance clung and slipped across his digits, some of the wetness even coating his lower belly. He sighed.

"What a mess." He muttered. Sleepiness began to nip at his eyelids, coaxing him for some rest. He acknowledged the clock. It was 3:00. Sleep could wait. He needed a shower and then he might as well just get dressed. He tugged his sweatpants up, leaving the small bunk area. None of the others stirred as his feet dragged against the cool tile flooring. He walked into the locker room and turned the shower on. He needed to get rinsed off.

A/N: This chapter is VERY short. This was the way it was written. I wanted John-117 to have a moment to himself where he really loses control over his emotions and can't escape what he's feeling for the OC.