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[ So that had been a thing that had happened.

Really, at this point, the station coming under attack from some crazy AI was just obligatory, like the weekly forecast of possible thunderstorms and meglomania with a side of attempted genocide. O'Brien is glad it's over, mostly because he fucking hates AIs even when they aren't actively trying to take over peoples' bodies and are just trying to torture/murder them the old fashioned way. Also he's happy to drink too much and pretend like the camaraderie extends to him, under the pretext of keeping an eye on the Spartans (who obviously can't know as much about drinking as any ODST).

He knows why Emile had slipped off away from the others. It had just taken O'Brien a few drinks to overcome his better judgment in not trying to follow him.

He brought beer, at least, and plunks the case down with a very serious expression. ]

Emile, we have a situation.

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Uh, I hadn't gotten much farther than 'say some shit and slide into his lap and see what happens.'

[ Sorry bro he's kind of distracted with your dick here, and paying more attention to it than the conversation. ]

[That's not going to have him thinking very clearly, you understand. He does unzip his pants, though, to at least make this a little easier. O'Brien's going to have to move for this to go any farther.]

Shit's happening.

[ WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM HIM HE'S SLOSHED okay fine he just makes a little noise that could probably be translated as 'fine jesus' and then picks himself up so he can slide to his knees in between Emile's thighs. ]

Not yet it's not.

[That's more like it. Much more like it. He slips his pants off quickly, and hello there's a giant Spartan dick in the room now.]

About to, then.

[Yeah he's perfectly aware of what that posture means, even if O'Brien's talking like he doesn't know anything.]

[ I'm sorry did you say something Emile, O'Brien's kind of distracted now. He's only been fantasizing about this since ever. He doesn't bother to look up at Emile's face for his response. ]

You, with the talking, shut it. You're wrecking the moment.

[ And, to little Emile, ]

Hello, gorgeous. You and I haven't been properly introduced.

[ He takes the shaft in hand and licks a long, slow stripe up the underside, teasing. ]

[Attempting to keep the straightest face ever, Emile thrusts his hips just enough to make Minimile waggle up and down in greeting before O'Brien licks him. At that he shivers a little and grabs a handful of O'Brien's hair, so he can guide him if necessary.

He does shut up, though. No sense in messing anything up now.]

[ Son this ain't his first rodeo. O'Brien huffs at the hair grabbing but doesn't even hesitate, taking his sweet time just getting Emile wet. He is, unfortunately, a little too big for O'Brien to take in entirely without choking or dislocating his jaw, but that's what hands are for, both busy where O'Brien's mouth can't reach. He takes the head in his mouth slowly, letting Emile watch, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks.

It's no professional blowjob but it's not an amateur's attempt either, and O'Brien flicks his gaze up to Emile's face to watch him watch. ]

[He's so completely used to that particular disadvantage of being Spartan-sized that he doesn't even seem to notice any inconvenience on O'Brien's part.

He groans and leans back, noticeably relaxing into the sensation. He gives O'Brien's hair a quick squeeze of appreciation and then releases it so he can lean back on his hands.]

Yeah. That's it.

[ And it's probably a good thing that Emile let his hair go, because the last memento O'Brien needs from this night is having anything accidentally ripped out.

Fortunately he's too distracted to really dwell on that possibility, smirking around Emile's cock at the groan. He is also way too drunk to come at this with a battle plan, like 'tease until bitched at or threatened and then suggest getting a room,' so the next five minutes or so is pure wish fulfillment for O'Brien, murmuring stupid filthy things in between swallowing Emile down and mouthing gently at his balls.

He chokes twice, throat bruised by a mere twitch of Emile's hips, and has to pull off to cough and sputter. O'Brien takes that as a challenge, though, and goes right back to it. ]

[And of course, having a Spartan's endurance meant Emile was perfectly content to let this run as long as O'Brien wanted to. He does become a little concerned at the choking, but the little ODST seems determined not to let that stop him. Still, he murmurs some encouragement and tries not to twitch his hips too hard, as much as he'd like to just start thrusting into the warm wetness of O'Brien's mouth.]

Damn, O'Brien. You--you gonna be okay, right?

Are you kidding?

[ yep talking to Emile's dick again ]

It'll take more than that to defeat me.

[ He had to chug half a can after each choking incident, because alcohol totally helps prevent bruising. ]

Good.

[Because that will totally make Emile think he can react a little more.

This might have to change. He doesn't actually want to choke O'Brien, but at the moment his brain doesn't have very much blood flow to it.]

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emile needs shirtless sexy icons with his helmet still on

you asked for it

OH GOD

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