Shannon (kungfuwaynewho) wrote,

Plot? What Plot?

As far as The Bloody Ones go, I'm working on the climax right now and it's really hard.  So I took a little break to write something fun and fluffy.

Title: A Battle of Wills
Specs: Babylon 5, John/Delenn, S5, 2000 words
Rating: R for sexytimes

Sheridan skipped his last meeting of the day with a hastily-put together story that wouldn’t hold up to even the most cursory examination.  Thankfully the Gaim Ambassador seemed to have a hard time following what Sheridan was saying most of the time anyway, let alone when he got up and paced around and pretended like he’d heard something on his link and talked fast.  Then he was off to Blue Sector.  They were in his quarters for the next three nights, which was good, because what he had planned definitely required the use of an actual, horizontal bed.

Because Sheridan was going to have sex with his wife, and he was going to do her but good.  It had been over a week - he’d had meetings, and she’d had meetings, and he’d had guests from Earth, and she’d had guests from Minbar, and that one night he’d eaten something that hadn’t agreed with him, and that other night she’d claimed she was too tired.  He didn’t care what intergalactic crisis manifested; he wasn’t leaving his quarters till the next morning, and neither was she.

Sheridan tried not to skip down the last stretch of corridor, then let himself in.  Delenn was at the little kitchen table, some papers in front of her, working hard.  Sheridan gave himself a few minutes just to look at her.  (Gloat over her, more like.)  She had taken off her outer robe, and pulled all her hair to one side.  Sheridan was a man, so his heart didn’t do things like skip beats or flutter in his chest, but it was doing something funny right now at the sight of her.

“Bed.  Now.”  She didn’t look up at him, just kept working.  Maybe she hadn’t heard him?  So he said it again, a little louder.  He got half a second of gray eyes looking his way. 

“I am working.”  Well, this wouldn’t do.  She probably just needed to hear it in a different way.  He needed to make it sound exciting.  Far better than paperwork or reports.  It was just a matter of finding the right intonation.

“Bed?  Now!”

Delenn shook her head.  “I have to finish this tonight.”  Her tone was final.  Sheridan went over to the couch, sat down heavily, and sulked.  It had been over a week, yes, but that shouldn’t be enough time for her to forget the amazing things they could do together, what they could do to each other.  He would just have to jog her memory.  So he stripped out of his clothes, right there in the living room, removing each article nice and slow.  He didn’t even see her peek.  He sauntered into the kitchen, drank some juice right out of the pitcher, taking his time and tipping his head back.

He glanced her way.  She had her brow furrowed prettily, looking over her papers.  Maybe if he set them on fire…

She loved to join him in the shower.  That was it.  That was the plan.  Sheridan went in, got the water nice and hot, and stood there, waiting.  It had been awhile since they’d done it in the shower.  The fact that it was a tight fit made it even more erotic.  He absently washed his hair, planning on letting her do the rest.  But the water got colder, and still no lovely, wet, naked Delenn climbing into the stall with him.  She knew he was in here, right?  His quarters weren’t that big; she had to hear the water running.

His fingers were getting pruny.  He washed himself, rinsed, vaguely toweled himself dry.  This sucked. 

Sheridan wrapped the towel around his waist, strolled back out.  She was still at the table, still poring over her papers.  He sat across from her, resting his head on one hand.  Stared at her eyes, which were not looking up his way.  Her mouth was pursed, and she reached out with a blind hand to grab the papers closer to his side of the table.  Then she sighed.

“You have gotten my papers wet.”

“Have not.”

“You’re dripping all over them.”

“I dried off,” he protested, thinking she was putting on quite a show.  There was no way she needed to literally grab a dishtowel and mop up; he distinctly remembered moving the towel over at least most of his body.  He had been in a hurry, yes, but he knew how to dry himself.  “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d have helped.”

“Go away.”

“Fine.  I’ll just go into the bedroom.  With my great big erection.  And masturbate.”

“Have a good time.”  She was doing this on purpose.  This was some kind of punishment, it had to be.  What had he done?  Sheridan tried to remember, but as far as he could tell, he had behaved beyond reproach for at least a couple of days. 

He flung his towel into the head, flopped down on the bed.  The nice, big, comfortable bed.  With big fluffy pillows that were perfect for propping up certain parts of the body.  Sheridan mashed two of them behind his head and crossed his arms over his chest, thinking.  He didn’t want to jerk off.  He wanted her to jerk him off.  She was really good at that; he hadn’t found one, but he suspected she’d picked up a how-to human sex book at some point.  The idea that she just had that much natural talent was too mind boggling. 

“I’m starting,” he called out.  “I’m just…I’m so hard right now.”  Silence from the other room.  “Because of you.  I was thinking about you today.  How pretty you are.  How much I just want to touch you all the time.  Do you want me to tell you what I’ve been thinking about doing to you all day?”

No answer.  “I was planning on nailing you right into this mattress, is what I was thinking.”  Now that was a nice image.  Sheridan went ahead and gave himself a couple lazy strokes; if she was going to be a spoil-sport, then she could just miss out on all the fun and see how she liked it.

He heard a chair scrape back, and then Delenn came around the corner, unsnapping her robe.  “You didn’t win,” she said, resolutely keeping her eyes on his face.  “I finished what I was working on, even though you did your best to ruin my focus.”  Sheridan smiled, watching her undress, revealing the body he knew so well but which always amazed him.  He leaned up, grabbed her waist and pulled her on top of him.  Mmm, kissing.

“You taste good,” she murmured.  “Like sunshine.”  And people made fun of him over his oranges.  He rolled her over onto her back, then kissed his way down her body.  She was starting to make those breathless little noises he loved so much; every now and then a moment from the night before would pop into his head during an Alliance meeting or some diplomatic shindig, a moment usually centering around some sound she made, a gasp or a cry or even, if he was really doing his job, a curse.  There was nothing better to liven up a boring day than the memory of her spread out on the bed, wanton eyes looking his way, just like she was doing right now. 

Sheridan sat back on his heels.  “Roll over.”  He waited, trying to be patient, but she just draped her arms over her head and leveled her eyes at him.  She was a dirty cheater, she really was; she knew what that did to her breasts.  Sheridan put his hands on his hips, scowled down at her.  “I am the President of the Interstellar Alliance.  I order you to roll over.”  Delenn lifted up one leg - did she know what that did to the view? - and pushed at his shoulder with her foot.

“I am Entil’zha of the Anla’shok.  You roll over.”

“You Rangers may think you’re the strongest force in the galaxy, but the Alliance has resources you’ve never even dreamed of.”

“Is that so?”

Delenn was ticklish behind her knees and at the small of her back.  Sheridan took a moment to plan the op, and then he dove for her.  One hand was able to secure its target, and he dug his fingers into the soft skin at the back of her knee.  She squealed, arched her back, and then he had her. 

“John, John!” she cried out, squirming about in the most delicious way.  Sheridan grabbed her up and flopped her over onto her stomach, then laid down right on top of her so she couldn’t move.  Delenn bucked against him, trying to throw him off; she was strong, but he amounted to a lot of dead weight.

“You’re crushing me,” she said, voice muffled by the pillows.  “I will suffocate and die very soon.”

“Promise to stay where you are, and I’ll release you.”  She tried to move again, and he knew he was playing with fire.  So he ground his hips against her ass, and she dragged in a sharp gasp and grabbed the sheets.

“Promise,” she said, voice shaky.  Sheridan climbed off, pulled her up into position.  Entered her nice and slow, then stopped.  He had worked too hard to get here for this to be over with as quickly as it threatened to.  He kept his hands securely on her hips and tried to remember what she had taught him about meditating.  Delenn wriggled around, then glared at him over her shoulder.  He closed his eyes; relax and focus, relax and focus.  He felt her slap her hand back at him, finally connecting with his arm.

“Go.”  Just a second, he was almost centered.  “Go go go.”  No one could expect him to resist when she was squeezing him like that, so he went, and no, it wasn’t going to take long at all.  But she was already well on her way, too. 

“Love you, love you, love you,” he chanted out in time with his movements, and she was gasping out something he just knew was dirty in her own language.  One of these days, he’d learn more than the odd phrase.  That was the last conscious thought he had; then she came with a startled shout and he tumbled over the edge after her. 

Sheridan collapsed on his back next to her, sucking in wonderful, wonderful air.  Delenn was still on her hands and knees, doing the same thing.  He reached for her, pulled her down onto his chest, stroked her hair back from her face.  A few minutes, just to bask.

“I won,” he informed her.  She shook her head, bone crest tickling his shoulder.

“You told me the purpose of a race is to finish first.  In that case, I won.”  He hated letting her get the last word, but she had him there.  Logic was always her strong suit.  Sheridan concentrated on the feel of her body against his, and then shook himself out of a doze.  He didn’t want to be that guy, falling asleep right after; besides, it was early enough.  They could come up with something else to do.

“So what were you working on?”  Delenn giggled then, and he heard the noise so rarely that he found himself grinning in response. 

“I had just started when you came in.  I don’t remember now.”  Sheridan laughed, clutching her close.  “It was something important, I have no doubt,” she went on.  “You should hope that there are not consequences, far-reaching consequences, when it does not get finished tonight.  They will all be your fault.”

“How’s that?”

“Trying to distract me with your big, hairy body.”

“You love my big, hairy body.”

“Maybe.”  He rolled her over, capturing her laugh with his mouth.  Okay, so she’d won round one.  Round two was going to be his.
Tags: b5, fic, j/d

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