Title: The Wet Spot
Specs: Babylon 5, John/Delenn, 500 words
John Sheridan wasn't a slut or anything, but he'd been with enough women to make a few statistical analyses. Eighty percent of them preferred receiving head to giving it; the one right after Lochley hadn't wanted either, had only wanted standard missionary all of the time; another about five years before Anna had loved giving blowjobs so much that she'd started to creep him out. Fifty percent didn't mind fooling around outside, but only twenty percent would actually do it outside. (That was okay; Sheridan wasn't really an exhibitionist.) What drove one woman crazy would do nothing for another and vice versa, but seventy-five percent of the time, if he could just get around to kissing her neck he'd end up getting laid.
The only thing he knew would be true one hundred percent of the time was that women did not like lying in the wet spot. He'd heard enough bitching and moaning about it, he sometimes wondered what they thought sex actually entailed. About halfway through his disastrously short first marriage, after a spectacular session in bed, Elizabeth had actually shaken him awake to make him change the sheets. That they’d ended up fighting hadn’t really surprised either of them, and after Sheridan shouted, “I’m so sorry that my semen inconveniences you!” he pretty much knew they were done for.
But as she did in so many other ways, Delenn was proving the exception to the rule. Married three months (and sleeping together considerably longer than that; dear God, never let her clan find out), and she hadn’t complained once. Not one single time. Finally, one night, curled up against each other, Sheridan couldn’t take it anymore.
“So it doesn’t bother you? The wet spot?”
“I’m sorry?” she asked, sounding a little sleepy-slurred.
“You just never complain about it.”
“When you say ‘wet spot,’ do you mean your ejaculate on the sheets?”
“You’re so sexy with your technical clarifications.”
“Is this something human women do? Complain about that?”
He remembered the time Anna made him roll over and lay down on it himself, and he’d lied and said he didn’t feel anything, and she’d made him sleep on the couch. “Yeah, they complain about it. They definitely complain about it.”
Delenn rolled over then, up on her elbows, wide awake. She looked down at him with bright eyes and barely-concealed excitement. “I did not know it was considered appropriate to complain about this. I was afraid I would offend you. Besides, usually after we are finished you fall asleep quite swiftly. John, it is truly a most disagreeable sensation.” She gasped, then grabbed onto his arm. “Do you think, from now on, before you fall asleep, you could change the sheets?”
Goddamn it. He would never learn to just keep his mouth shut.