Where does Sheldon self-identify on the sexual spectrum? A serious exploration of Sheldon and Amy's relationship, physical and otherwise, as it is presented in canon and how it may be shaped by Sheldon's internal conflicts on sexuality. Does his self-examination lead to off-screen honesty about their relationship? Or is it why assumptions and miscommunications plague them?
A note on the rating: While this story does follow canon, and thus there will be coitus, it's an M-rated story for the subjects covered and the technical terminology used. Sheldon is a scientist - and not a shy one. Neither is this story.
THE SEXUALITY QUANDARY
CHAPTER ONE
"Honestly, we've been operating under the assumption that he has no deal."
Sheldon knew he was the butt of Howard and Raj's jokes. Sometimes Leonard joined in, and sometimes Leonard just looked at him with what Sheldon assumed was a mix of acceptance and pity.
Well, so what? Coitus just wasn't his thing. He didn't understand the need for it, other than for procreation, and he certainly didn't understand why such an overwhelming amount of time and conversation was devoted to it. Studies reported the average coital connection lasted between five and eight minutes; why did something so brief in duration matter so much? He found it unnecessary. Given all the grand mysteries of the universe yet to be solved, it seemed boring and basic. There was only one tab and one slot; it was harder to assemble a Lego model. And, sometimes, living across from Penny and next to Leonard, it sounded downright uncomfortable with all that grunting and screaming.
Despite his eidetic memory, Sheldon couldn't pinpoint the moment he realized he was asexual. Rather, it was just something he'd always been, just like his hair had always been dark. He had known he was different than everyone else he met his entire life, and while that was usually because of his superior intelligence, it became apparent in adolescence that there were other differences, too. MeeMaw was happily dating, Georgie was staying out past curfew to come home with ruffled hair and the scent of cheap perfume on his clothes, and even Missy would get all doe-eyed, first at the members of the latest boy band and later with whoever had the fastest motorcycle.
If he were being honest, there were times it bothered him. Everyone around him seemed to crave sexual attention and interactions, and he'd much rather study or read a comic book. Although there was sex even there. He couldn't escape it. Even as an adult - a very professionally successful one, he might add - there were many times the jokes of his friends didn't resonate with him, if he even understood them at all.
But one thing Sheldon never lacked was self-confidence, and, as long as his friends left him to be who he was, he found satisfaction in their camaraderie. The four of them had so many other shared interests, and, while his friends weren't as smart as him, well, who was, really? Sadly, Stephen Hawking was unlikely to participate in paintball.
Which is why Leonard's blatant comment surprised him. (When was Leonard going to learn that Sheldon had Vulcan hearing? There were no secrets in the hallway.) Sheldon had never explicitly stated his sexual orientation to his friends, and he did not know it had been seriously debated between them. It was all Penny's fault, as so many things were. It was she who asked. It was she who seemed to find asexuality unfathomable.
However, Sheldon didn't feel the need to discuss it with her, as he'd long since relegated thoughts of his sexuality to the folder of solved conundrums, the one for which further examination was unnecessary. He was asexual, he always had been, and he always would be. Some people may have fluid sexuality or find that their previous sexual orientations failed to suit them as time passed, but not him. After less than five minutes of reflection, Sheldon shrugged to himself and put it out of his mind as he returned to something more important, which was almost anything else.
"Now, before this goes any further, you should know that all forms of physical contact up to and including coitus are off the table."
He had not wanted to go. A date led to a romantic relationship which led to sex, in which he was not interested. Since it was so obvious to Leonard, why couldn't it be obvious to Howard and Raj, too? However, faced with the prospect of a hidden dirty sock, he had capitulated to their demands, no matter how it pained him.
Imagine his pleasant surprise, then, when the young woman in glasses and a cardigan informed him she was also asexual. She disclosed it within the first five minutes! What a relief! He offered to buy her a beverage, intrigued to learn more about her career without the messy business of so-called sexual tension in the air.
Sheldon thought, for a second as they sat drinking tea and tepid water, that he should directly ask if she were asexual. But then he thought he heard his mother's voice in his head, telling him it was rude to discuss sex. And this Amy Farrah Fowler person was so fascinating on her own, just as he hoped. Most important, it was obvious, wasn't it? He could hardly imagine a clearer declaration of one's sexual orientation.
"Amy pointed out that between the two of us, our genetic material has the potential of producing the first in a line of intellectually superior, benign overlords to guide humanity to a brighter tomorrow."
This friendship was perfect. Not only was Amy a brilliant scientist - even if her field was biology - but her blunt honesty was refreshing. There was no need to guess what she was really thinking beneath that mud-brown hair. None of that aforementioned sexual tension. If only his friends would stop mocking him, calling it a "date" and Amy his "girlfriend."
Previously, Sheldon had thought that cloning himself was the only way to gift mankind with his progeny. It was the purest option, without any subpar DNA to dilute his. But when the issue of creating offspring with Amy arose, he realized she could make some very valuable contributions to his plan. It went without saying that Amy meant this procreation would take place in a controlled laboratory setting, with each party in a separate room. Yes, there was that surprising experiment on orgasms she had participated in, but it was all in the name of science. And self-gratification was understandable, even to him. Not to mention the cloning of human beings was illegal.
Until Penny ruined it by bringing up his mother.
"An experiment. . . Nope. Nothing. Never mind."
If his life were a sitcom, he imagined that the viewing masses would laugh, thinking it was a joke. Lesser minds. He had been serious. Of course asexual Amy wasn't sexually attracted to Zach. He just mentioned it to be thorough, because that's what a scientist did. But primary sexual arousal based purely on physical attributes? And with that buffoon? Maybe he could understand some mild interest in holding hands with Tesla after working with him for many months on perfecting the teleforce. Perhaps even Sheldon wouldn't mind that.
He only took her to the bar to prove to Amy that she was above all this, that she didn't want to be horny. What a gauche term, anyway. Rather, she couldn't help it. Her current state of mind was just some unexpected blip of her endocrine system. The sooner they dealt with her temporary hormonal imbalance and returned to their friendship of the mind, the better. Granted, his heart had hammered louder than he would have thought for an experiment that had a foregone conclusion, but that had not lessened his satisfaction that Amy had not given in to her baser urges. Rather, just as he expected for asexual creatures such as themselves, that urge had evaporated on its own when faced with the reality of acting upon it. Nothing had changed, there was no interloper to ruin their friendship.
The only surprise was that Amy reached out for his hand as they left. Weren't all forms of physical contact off the table? And what did she mean by "nothing"? Did she think he was going to squeeze her hand back, weave his fingers through hers? Did she honestly think he would be a slave to a similar temporary anomaly? Although she wasn't Tesla and they hadn't spent months working together on the teleforce, Sheldon decided he didn't mind this action. After all, this was Amy, so it wasn't sexual, just as it wouldn't be with Tesla; why had he even wondered? It was, as she said, an experiment. At worst, it was just a sort of thank you, a display of friendship.
"Sheldon and I engaged in sexual intercourse. In other news, I'm thinking of starting an herb garden. Mum's the word. Gotta go."
The social experiment was not flawed. Obviously, as he and Amy had developed it together. Oh, she was sly, sly like a fox. (A fixen, actually, Northern Middle English for female fox. Now commonly pronounced and spelled as vixen. Just a fox, nothing else; as a student of Chaucer, Amy knew this.) But Sheldon had not hypothesized that everyone would believe it so readily; even Leonard had asked Amy if she was really pregnant with Sheldon's non-test tube progeny, he of the "no deal" claim.
Why were his friends so blind to realities? Why did they seem incapable of wrapping their hindbrains around this sexual minority of which both he and Amy were members?
He thought about saying, at their next Friday night gathering, "Amy and I are in a happy asexual friendship of the mind, and we would both appreciate your respect of that." But shouldn't he mention this to Amy first? Other than the evening they met, she had never mentioned her sexuality directly to him again. It wasn't his place to out her, as it were. They really did have the perfect friendship, and he didn't want to risk that by airing her most private thoughts in public.
And, really, they were friends, just friends. He had repeatedly been very clear that Amy was his friend, not his girlfriend. Friends do not have sexual relations with each other, regardless of Penny's use of the phrase "friends with benefits." Certainly, Sheldon didn't and wouldn't, and they should all know that about him by now. Ergo, the status of his friendship with Amy was self-evident.
Besides, the mere thought of the resulting quips, retorts, misunderstandings, assumptions, and questions if he were to say something was exhausting, and Sheldon decided against saying anything to anyone.
"Not necessary. We know everything there is to know about kissing. It requires thirty-four facial muscles and one-hundred-twelve postural muscles."
What had happened to her? Was it the alcohol? It had to be the alcohol, it was the only logical explanation for why his asexual friend had kissed him on the sofa after a night of dancing and general rowdiness. She had even sung that song about kissing, for goodness sake! She was clearly not in her right mind.
Granted, this radical change in her behavior was coming hot on the heels of their little social experiment in which Amy suggested they tell everyone they had engaged in sexual intercourse. That was concerning, but perhaps still coincidental.
But it had been fascinating. He had never been kissed by anyone other than his mother, his grandmother, and Leonard's mother before. Only motherly-type people. But Amy's kiss wasn't repulsive at all, which surprised him. It was just . . . fascinating. Not that it mattered, it would not be repeated. And he was content with that.
Fortunately, she had forgotten all about it thanks to alcohol-induced amnesia. And she agreed to a reset.
"For the record, I do have genitals. They're functional and aesthetically pleasing."
Maybe it was a missed opportunity. If it hadn't been for the importance of the upcoming interdepartmental paintball tournament, he could have taken the time to explain to Leonard and the others that it was a common misconception that asexuals had malfunctioning genitals.
Being asexual did not mean that Sheldon was impotent or any other medical condition that might adversely affect the performance of his reproductive organs. He was quite cable of getting and maintaining an erection; he woke up with one most mornings, just like any other healthy male. His penis responded to physical manipulation and stimulation. His ejaculate volume and make-up, his urologist had reassured him after Sheldon insisted he test a sample, were within normal parameters.
It was even true that he masturbated once a month in the shower as part of his personal cleansing ritual, to lower his blood pressure and because some doctors believed it could lower one's risk for prostate cancer. But he would never discuss something that personal. Not that there was much to tell, for Sheldon never felt any sexual attraction for the pictures of the supposedly sexy famous science fiction-related females he flipped through in his mind because it was presumed that was what one was supposed to do at just such a time. Mechanically, everything operated properly, and he even enjoyed the rush of endorphins at the end and the brief high he experienced from it throughout breakfast. It was likely that Leonard never noticed his improved mood because Sheldon was such a cheerful and sunny person on non-masturbatory days as well.
It had always been females. Once, out of curiosity, he tried males and that was the only time his genitals did fail, the one time he did find himself adverse to the act. It seemed his hetero-preference was just as ingrained as was his disinterest on acting on that preference. He didn't mind if that's what someone else preferred, not at all; it just wasn't for him.
The only thing that set him apart in that regard was that he didn't crave it for its own sake. Once a month was enough. He also enjoyed a good slice of his mother's homemade layered chocolate cake, but he'd never felt the drive to make one from scratch. Chocolate, too, could cause a release of endorphins, although on a lesser scale. Interestingly, both the making of a cake from scratch and masturbating caused too much of a mess. But one could be performed in a shower and one could not.
"We cuddle. Final offer."
Now, this was more than concerning. Although her emotions were high, there was no alcohol involved. He hadn't been able to keep silent this time. He pointed out what Amy already knew: theirs was a relationship of the mind.
But after her other suggestions, cuddling wasn't so bad. And he had promised to keep an open mind. Parents and children often cuddled and there was nothing whatsoever sexual in that. And, surprisingly, it was comforting after the initial awkwardness faded. It felt like a hug from Meemaw when he was sad himself, and he knew how profoundly reassuring those hugs could be. Not sexual at all.
Nonetheless, given the other words Amy had thrown out and the even more alarming adjectives she attached to them (torrid lovemaking, inflamed loins, French kissing!), Sheldon was confused for the rest of the night. And when he was confused he couldn't sleep. Only one thing could help him sleep: research and the power of a logical, scientific solution.
"Asexuals who want to cuddle." "Asexuals who want to kiss." "Asexuals who want to engage in sexual intercourse." Repeatedly, Google lead him to the same solution. At last, Sheldon closed his laptop with a satisfied grunt, confident he had the correct answer to his predicament. Amy Farrah Fowler was a demisexual, not asexual, and her emotional bond to him was predicating some sort of sexual attraction to him. It was clear there was an emotional attachment, as she had called him - one of her dearest friends - in tears caused by her distressed state.
But . . . what did this new, untested, previously unconsidered gray area mean for them? If Amy felt that emotionally attached to him, would she want more than just a friendship of the mind? Would she continue to accept and respect his asexuality? Could they maintain their status quo with this new information lurking on the horizon? There was no satisfyingly correct answer to these questions. Sleep remained evasive.
"Why is everyone so obsessed with Amy and Stuart? And whether or not they may be having more pumpkin lattes or intercourse tonight?"
It pained him to admit it, given his superior intellect, but he had not seen this coming.
At first, it had seemed like the perfect solution to his conundrum. If Amy shifted her emotional bond to Stuart, then nothing would change in Sheldon's asexual friendship of the mind with her. Yes, he had to put up with Leonard's smothering cluckiness about the whole thing, but surely that would be worth it in the end.
He felt loyalty to her, as his friend, so he also felt the need to defend her to his friends. Obviously, Amy would be the far more intriguing and intelligent half of that theoretical relationship. If she would even deign to go out with Stuart, which Sheldon found unlikely. But she surprised him. So, he defended her even further over the game of cards: she was interesting, she was brave, she was skilled in the field of self-surgery, she was . . . dynamite? Lordy, where did that word come from?
The question became did he want someone else lighting his dynamite? Because, now that Sheldon knew she was demisexual, she was just like a stick of dynamite: inert in its resting state, highly flammable when exposed to the flame of attraction caused by a deep emotional bond. Wait, when did she become his dynamite? Well, she was and that's all there was to it! And just because he was sure he didn't want to have sexual intercourse with Amy, didn't mean he wanted anybody else to.
"With the understanding that nothing changes whatsoever, physical or otherwise, I would not object to us . . . no longer characterizing you . . . as not my girlfriend."
He could not have been clearer. Sheldon even put it all down in writing, the most minute detail, even boos-boos and ouchies. After the revelation that perhaps he needed to reassess Amy's sexual orientation, The Relationship Agreement felt restrictive in the best possible way. Now he didn't have to worry about any awkward conversations with Amy, the ones about which he had been procrastinating. It was spelled out in black-and-white, in plain English, in ten-point Helvetica New. She had agreed to maintaining an asexual girlfriend/boyfriend relationship; granted, the word asexual did not appear in print, but Sheldon suspected she was demisexual now. Regardless of the terminology, the rules were clear. She had signed without a lawyer and only the one small quibble about hand-holding.
They were, as evidenced by her notarized signature, literally on the same page.
To be continued . . .
Dear readers:
This story is going to cover some sensitive and serious issues. A person's sexuality is an extremely personal matter, and it's possible that no two people feel exactly the same way about their sexuality. The statements included reflect my opinion of only one person's possible sexuality, even while I acknowledge both that I could be mistaken and that not all persons on the graysexual spectrum have the same experiences or feel the same as I have presented Sheldon here.
I myself do not identify as on the graysexual spectrum, so I cannot write with firsthand knowledge or exerpience. My primary source of reference was the wonderful book The Invisible Orientation: An Introduction to Asexuality by Julia Sondra Decker. I have chosen to use the terms and definiations as used in that book. However, even Ms. Decker acknowledges that those terms may have different shades of meanings to different persons, and that not all persons on the graysexual spectrum agree on certain terms. I highly encourage anyone interested in greater understanding of graysexual spectrum orientations to read her work.
And, as always, thank you in advance for your reviews.