A/N: Sheldon and Amy might not be seeing much action on the show, but they sure do get a bit racy in my head sometimes. This one-shot idea made me quit studying for finals and would not let me concentrate on anything else until I typed it all out. I hope you enjoy it and if you do, leave a little review to tell me so. ;]
Disclaimer: I don't own The Big Bang Theory or any of its characters or likenesses. Also, there aren't any spoilers in this story, but I did borrow the concept and a few lines from the promo for episode 7.11 "The Cooper Extraction" because it gave me the feels. The Shamy feels.
Faulty eidetic memory.
If only he could remember how Amy had crawled onto him (had he tried to stop her?), how his face got buried in her hair (like silk), how she began rocking back and forth against him. If only he could form just one coherent thought and trace the steps back, hone in on whose fault this really was, perhaps he could…
She hums, a hoarse trill in the back of her throat and he involuntarily clutches her tighter, one hand in the crook of her upper thigh where it meets her waist, and the other hand wrapped tightly around her left arm. Her back is to him, he holds her there on his lap and he can't see her face, but he figures it is not entirely different from his: eyes closed, mouth agape, blush so bright that they are beacons in the darkened living room filled with academic books and action figures. When had he turned off the TV?
Amy's groans intensify and he finds, to his horror, that he is no longer a helpless victim of her ministrations, but an eager participant. His body no longer waits for her to push her rear further into his lap, but now he's meeting her, his erection straining against the layers of cloth that protect him, protect her. Her sounds are strange and he wants—what does he want?
"Unghh," she teethes, and he knows immediately that it is what he wants. More sounds. The silence is deafening.
"Unghh," he hears again, but this time it comes from him. The sound of his own low whine of pleasure jolts him and his hips follow suit.
She's wearing so many layers, but he can feel the heat of her skin through every single one. Amy spreads her stocking-covered legs and curls her feet behind his calves to give her better leverage, and she rocks some more. The thick denim of her skirt has ridden up and bunched at the exact spot where the curve of her bottom grinds against his testicles.
And suddenly his fingers are fumbling, tugging at the wool, slipping tiny pearl buttons through their slits to reveal what they hide, and her lavender scent fills his nostrils as soon her shirts are tossed to the ground and her cardigan soars through the air. It lands noiselessly behind them and he does not mourn it.
Amy gives a tremble and Sheldon wonders if now, left only in her bra, she is cold. Cold resonates in his mind like a silver bell and as it rings, every anatomical reaction to a drop in temperature visualizes in his mind. It's almost beyond his control as his hand slowly travels up and lightly grazes the center of her breast. He blames it on scientific curiosity and Amy mews softly when he pinches the cup of her white cotton bra, capturing her hardened nipple beneath it.
"I want to see you," she whispers into the dark, but Sheldon holds her true, encouraging her to continue shifting her hips back and forth, in sync with his as he supports her with his shaky thighs, because now he cannot fathom a time when this sensation—the throbbing and the heat swirling in his lower abdomen—didn't exist.
Her weight is nothing, it is everything. If she stops, if she gets up and leaves him bereft of the feel of her on top of him, even for a second, he will die.
"I need you," he declares and is startled by the revelation. What Sheldon meant to say was, I need you to keep doing what you're doing. Stars erupt behind his closed eyelids as this confession elicits rougher friction from above, and Amy lays her head back until it rests on his shoulder. He takes this opportunity to palm both of her breasts now, unabashedly utilizing two large hands to cradle her mounds, uses his thumbs to flick the hardened peaks still encased in her bra.
I must be doing something right, he thinks as she cranes her neck to the side and up, and as she speaks, her narrow lips brush against the slope of his neck.
"Make love to me," she pleads, and the sound of her entreaty is enough to ignite his memory and take him back to minutes ago, to how this all started.
"I'm going to miss you when you're in Texas for Christmas."
"Well," Sheldon sighs absently, keeping his eyes on the television. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm going to wish I was here instead of there the entire trip."
They are sitting in their respective spots on Sheldon's couch the night before his departure, enjoying the last few minutes of Harry Potter & The Sorcerer's Stone because it was the only film they could agree on that was acceptable (Amy wanted something Christmas-themed and Harry's first Christmas away from the Dursley's is the only Saturnalia holiday scene in cinema that Sheldon looks fondly upon, especially since it's such a short part).
"Will you miss me?"
It's a fair enough question, Sheldon realizes, but perhaps because it is impossible to determine how he will feel in the future, and he suspects saying this aloud will upset her, he offers her a noncommittal shrug.
"Section 4, article 2, paragraph 1 of the Relationship Agreement dictates: when we travel out of the city for a period of longer than 24 hours, we replace normal physical interaction with phone conversation and/or Skype sessions, if internet connection is optimal." He tears his eyes away from the screen and gazes at Amy. "These guidelines are written so that we do not have the opportunity to 'miss' each other, Amy."
This is precisely why he entered it into the Agreement, he remembers.
She smiles tightly, not entirely pleased but impressed by such Sheldon-brand thoughtfulness disguised by practicality, and his eyes are back on the screen before he can give the conversation another thought.
"I know that, Sheldon," Amy says quietly, resuscitating the issue after a few seconds pause. From the corner of his eye Sheldon sees that she is peering at him through her pink-rimmed glasses, eyes fixed on the side of his face as images from the screen flash against his skin. "But I'm afraid I'll miss you anyway."
"I'll only be gone for a week," he says dismissively. "I'm sure you'll be fine." But in her tone, hard as he tries not to notice it, is an oddly sorrowful cadence. And it worries him wholly and completely that he almost feels the same way.
He had lived for 31 years before having met Amy; he could go one week without knowing she was a twenty minute bus ride away.
All is quiet and he concentrates on the screen before he is prodded by her low, sultry voice again.
"I have a proposal to make."
Whose idea was it again to turn the ceiling light off as they watched the movie? Oh, it was his. Harmless at the time, but now that it was so dark, save for the TV, Amy's proximity was suddenly all he could think of.
"A proposal?" he asks before clearing his throat. In reply, Amy places her hand lightly on top of his forearm.
He stiffens.
"Yes. Perhaps we cuddle to soothe my distress."
His eyes roll up to the ceiling and lets a signature, "Oh, boy," fall from his lips.
"But just for a moment," she adds quickly.
He is interested that she has willingly put such a limited parameter on time spent engaging in this frivolous activity, therefore he is a lot more eager to comply. He would wrap his arms awkwardly around her for a moment, pat her on the back, they would separate and he would offer her Purell after lathering his own hands sufficiently, and all would be well, just as it always is.
The idea of physical contact with Amy Farrah Fowler is far from repulsive, it is only taxing. Sheldon was just not there yet, and he did not know if he ever would be.
But for Amy, to quell the sadness (and only her sadness, of course) of his departure, he would cuddle. For her.
"Very well," he says reluctantly. "A moment would be suitable." He licks his lower lip and assumes the position; he shifts his bottom so that his legs point towards her and he begins to lean back when Amy stops him by replacing her hand on his arm. He watches her fingers idle for a moment before looking at her face.
"Sit back," she suggests, and just as a bright burst of light from the television flickers against her glasses, her eyes are hidden, but he sees that her mouth is coy. His heartbeat speeds up as he obliges and settles back into his spot, facing forward. "I want to try something."
"What are you—" he cuts himself off as Amy rises from her seat and stands in front of him. Her body blocks the television and all he sees is the rising and lowering of her chest.
Without a word, she turns around slowly and at a treacherous pace, she begins to lower her body onto his lap, facing forward, not daring to look at him. He lifts his arms, unsure of what to do with them now.
This is absurd! Outrageous! …Unprecedented.
"Only for a moment," Amy breathes as if to soothe his panicky thoughts. Sheldon is a twitter with energy anyway, jumping at every sound the television makes as this vixen slithers her way into the center of his lap.
"What…Amy…" He cannot speak anymore as her body heat transfers to him almost immediately and he doesn't know what is happening. Or if he wants to stop it.
She notices that his teeth are chattering, and to calm him, she picks up the remote from the coffee table, stabs it in the direction of the TV, and switches it off.
"Relax," she says as the only light that sheds upon them now is from the street lamps outside of the corner window with the drapes drawn back. He moans internally as she wiggles around a little then reaches back and carefully tugs on both of his arms to bring them around her and join at her waist, effectively encircling her. She nestles back against him and he bites his lip when she purrs again, "We are cuddling. Only for a moment."
A moment turns quickly into several. Someone clears their throat. Someone else takes a deep, shuddering breath. In an effort to get more comfortable, he parts his knees and spreads his legs a little and as a result, she descends into the epicenter of his lap.
His eyes are wide and his face infinitesimally inches closer to her hair. She tightens his arms around her waist.
And then it happens.
He holds his breath as he feels his freshly hatched erection rub the inside of his thigh and he imagines himself balancing on the edge of sanity as any moment now, Amy will feel it, too. He knows he should alert her, perhaps even shove her off of him before it is too late and she realizes what she has done, what she does, to him. But his mouth opens and closes without making a sound as the fabric of his slacks suddenly become tighter.
And realization blankets both of them as Sheldon literally feels Amy becomes aware. Instead of the fanfare he had been expecting her to react with, she welcomes the nudge of his arousal with a throaty sigh. Sheldon's face buries deeper into her hair to hide from the rest of the world.
His heart pounds three times fast, he whispers, "Amy", then repeats.
He is brought back from his reverie as Amy murmurs her demand again.
"Make love to me," she sighs, her warm breath branding his throat. He grimaces in response as nothing has ever sounded sweeter and at the same time daunting. He ponders her request as she sits up straight and waits, still facing the darkness in front of them, and his hands fall from her breasts to lay dormant at his sides.
What now? he worries.
What will he say? she wonders.
They're both quiet for a moment, for different reasons. Then as rays of moonlight from the window behind them unfurl, he is distracted from saying no, I can't.
Instead, he notices that Amy's shoulders are still exposed. Sheldon marvels at the silver glow as it glistens on her pale skin, and gasps when her bra strap lazily falls down her arm on its own. Before he can stop himself, he latches his lips onto the spot where the strap had been and sinks his teeth into the fleshy area between her shoulder and neck.
Mine, he grunts to himself as Amy lets out a cry of ecstasy. His eyes are closed so he does not see her lift one arm and bend it at the elbow, her hand blindingly reaching behind her for Sheldon's head. She gently scrapes the scruff of his neck, purchasing the tiny hairs at the nape and he bites harder, flicking his tongue on the assaulted flesh. His lips travel up until they reach her ear lobe, and if he could form a coherent sentence, he would tell her how much he is enjoying this, but instead he just breathes shallowly and it works all the same to Amy. In response to his sweet breath in her ear, she resumes grinding her rear against his genitals with a sounder urgency, a race between them both as they meet each other thrust for thrust, groan for groan.
One of Sheldon's hands reaches up and yanks down the other strap of her bra, and his other hand massages her soft stomach until it begins to travel lower, down, lower, until -
"Sheldon, oh!"
His name reverberates in the rafters with Amy's guttural tenor. The sound, coupled with the sudden awareness that his hand has somehow found its way between her thighs and it's so hot to the touch, makes every nerve ending on his body shriek in warning, you are about to ejaculate!
It hurts him to do it but he releases her earlobe from between his lips and he squeezes his eyes shut, gripping Amy's waist in a vice-like grip to immobilize her. When he trusts himself to speak, he whispers, "Get up."
The firmness of his voice alone convincing her, Amy leaps up and whirls around, but he does not look at her, opting instead to close his eyes and breathe in steadily.
She mistakes his silence for anger.
His eyes still closed, he hears rather than sees her get down on her knees in front of him. Her small hands rest on his shoulders as his arms jam themselves between his legs. "Not tonight, Sheldon," she says after a moment. "It doesn't have to be tonight."
In the dark, he finds the strength to lean forward and rest his forehead against his girlfriend's. They both wait until his heartbeat becomes regular again, until he does not suck in oxygen like a fish out of water, before her words finally sink in.
"I almost didn't have a choice," he says regretfully, knowing full and well that he had been seconds away from completion.
"I know that I am difficult," he continues, still struggling to maintain even breathing over the pounding of his heart. Amy moves away from him and searches his face in the dark. "I am difficult, Amy. I keep you waiting and for what? What makes you sure that it will be worth it in the end?"
Without words, Amy answers his question. She extends her hand and places it on the left side of his chest. Then she picks up her other hand and places her flat palm on her own chest, in the same spot. Over her heart.
"Because you are waiting for me, too."
It's true, he realizes. And knowledge is pain.
He waits for Amy constantly. Waits for her to pick him up for dinner, waits for her to call him and check in at night and make sure she has locked her doors and windows and was not followed home by a wild bobcat, waits for her in his spot as she concocts the perfect mug of tea, waits for that knowing grin and nod of her head when he is through describing something that excites him, because that grin and nod means she is excited, too.
Without all of this waiting, there would be an entirely too noticeable cavern in his otherwise particular life, Sheldon understands. And he would wait for no one else.
All at once he recognizes he can't stand the thought of waiting anymore. So he nods silently and extends his hand to her as he stands up. She takes it wordlessly and allows him to help her to her feet. He can tell she is beginning to feel self-conscious beneath his scrutiny as his eyes travel over her bare torso, half hidden in shadows. She hunches her shoulders a little and adjusts her bra with one hand as Sheldon leads the way to the hall.
Seconds later, they're in his room which is just as silver as the living room, for the light is off and the curtains are drawn to welcome in the moonlight. Amy walks to his nightstand and flicks on the lamp, at the same time Sheldon turns the small lock on his knob, but she hears it latch.
"You'll have to…" he begins, but then stops.
"What?" she asks. Sheldon notices that Amy's skin is lovely in the golden glow of his dimly lit room.
What had this vixen done to him? His memory was starting to go again. When had he ever felt so weak and powerful at the same time? Like he could fall apart at the seams and still hold Amy up if she needed him to?
"You'll have to show me. Show me what to do," he finally finds his voice again. He goes to the bed and sits on the edge, then gently pats the empty space next to him. Amy joins him and he feels the mattress shift slightly with her added weight. Eyes shut, he pleads, "Forgive me if I stop. I can't promise anything except that I will try."
"I would never force you to do anything you aren't capable of," she says, and he knows it's true. "However," she continues, "I know there isn't anything in the world that you can't do." She kisses both of his closed eye lids. He does not recoil from the intrusion. He has no reason to be modest now.
The wait was over.
No other words are spoken until several minutes later, after the awkward, yet exhilarating disrobing of both of their clothes which were now convening in hushed tones on the floor in a pile of colorful fabric, after the reveal of a condom from his top drawer and it's placement on the nightstand, after they are staring at bed together. Amy makes the first move; she climbs on the bed on all fours to reach the center of the mattress and Sheldon tries to be a gentleman and look away but the arch in her back, oh, the arch that reaches her rounded bottom beneath her enticing hips. And she flips onto her back and pushes her legs closed, smiling sheepishly up at him before beckoning him with her finger to join her.
He puts one knee on the bed and hesitates, reaching her eyes with his own to search for any disappointment, for regret of any kind. He only finds acceptance and anticipation; Amy is regal enough to keep her eyes planted firmly on his face and not ogle his body as he so did hers moments before. He smiles crookedly as he completes his decline and both of his knees are on the bed, too.
Beneath him finally is Amy's body, and after a silent debate of whose arms go where, in what position to inaugurate that would provide the least amount of germ exchange, tight smiles and encouraging nods, they are ready to begin. Sheldon's erection, now dutifully protected by latex with the aid of Amy's deft fingers, aches longingly as it lazes against the soft, warm lips between her legs. He is about to warn her that his performance may not be up to par, that she may experience discomfort at first, everything that Amy, a scientist, would already know. But when he opens his mouth, his lips have something else in mind.
"Thank you for waiting for me, Amy."
His voice is thick with lust and almost foreign and for a moment he wonders if he actually said it aloud, until a smile cracks the portrait of Amy's face like the sun breaking the horizon. Her glasses folded and forgotten on the nightstand, he sees that she's smiling with her eyes, too.
"You're welcome, Sheldon."
The truth is, Sheldon knew this day would come. And as a knowledgeable man, he presumed that he had the adequate depth and reasoning to predict what the experience would be like and how Amy would react after they finally consummated their relationship.
But nothing could prepare him for how he felt.
Breaking the barrier between their virginities and the present was like connecting the missing piece. Sheldon pushes himself into Amy and there is a calm that encompasses them both. But as he inches further, she resists with a whimper and the clench of her legs around his waist. He ceases movement, the throbbing tip of his erection buried inside of her, the rest of him aching to follow suit. He hovers, still as a statue and unsure of how to proceed. The cringe on her face worries him therefore he does something he rarely feels the urge to do.
Carefully, he bends his elbows and lowers his face to hers. With his eyes open the whole time, Sheldon presses a feather-light kiss against Amy's trembling mouth.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his own mouth trembling as he pulls away.
"I am," she assures him, a new glow of scarlet dotting her high cheekbones. "Please, continue." With that, she lifts her arms and places them on his shoulder blades, gripping him softly and pulling him closer to her.
"Amy!" he gasps at the same time she whines unintelligibly. He is now submerged inside of her, deep, so deep that he feels her tightness suction him until he's short of breath.
"Oh, Sheldon," are her famous last words before they both take a sharp turn into the realm of incoherence. In response, her boyfriend lifts his hips to slide out, then slide back in. And he continues these slow, deliberate movements until she lubricates the both of them enough that he can move faster, drill harder without hurting her, and the welcome sounds of their flesh meeting and guttural wails from their mouths, animalistic noises really, do not embarrass them and it does not feel anything but natural.
Sheldon's body straightens out as he feels himself getting close. He goes rigid as he is aware that it took him very little time to get here, and he regrets that he will arrive far faster to his destination than Amy will.
She seems to notice his hesitation and she smiles. "Keep going," she insists and her nails rake down his sides until they reach the plump skin of his butt. With an encouraging squeeze, she brings him into her further than he thought possible and he's a goner.
"Yes," he hisses as his orgasm hits him in waves, drenching him as he comes whilst still thrusting inside of her. Amy moans loudly and he collapses, his mouth dry and his forehead moist as it rests against his girlfriend's slick shoulder.
"Fascinating."
Sheldon laughs. Amy took the word right out of his mouth.
Amy sits on the end of the couch sipping idly on some eggnog as her friends chirp excitedly around her and adorn the Christmas tree with ornaments. She is in apartment 4A and though Sheldon has been gone for three days already, she peers over at his spot, currently occupied by a buzzed Rajesh who is talking loudly to Stuart as he sits across from him in the wooden chair.
Leonard and Penny make wet noises behind her that not even the softly playing Christmas music on the TV can smother as they kiss and Leonard whispers while Penny giggles. In the corner, Howard is draped in wreaths and tinsel as he makes Bernadette frown with another reference to the dermatologist visit he had earlier with his mother.
She sighs miserably and tries to be strong when Penny comes up behind her and stuffs a pair of reindeer antlers covered with bells on her head.
"Cheer up, Ames," she says. "He'll be home before you know it."
Amy smiles up at her friend but quickly looks away when a familiar ringing noise catches her attention. She jumps up and pushes past Stuart, who had just risen from his chair to go to the kitchen for a drink. She mutters a sorry and arrives at Sheldon's desk where his iPad sits on its charger. Sure enough, the ringing is an incoming Skype call.
"Hello, Sheldon," she says, her eyes glimmering as the image of her boyfriend materializes on the screen.
"Hello, Amy," he answers with a sideways smile and a perched eyebrow. "Nice antlers."
"Thank you," she shrugs and turns to face the rest of their friends. "Look everyone, it's Sheldon."
She slowly propels the screen in a half circle to give the rest of the group a chance to wave and say hello. Then she walks back to the couch and sits down before peering down at his face on the tablet.
"The second I go out of town, you throw a Christmas party without me?" he asks, his tone laced with disbelief.
Amy knows her boyfriend detests Christmas and is slightly startled by his accusation. She frowns and answers, "Kinda."
"That's so thoughtful," he keens. Her heart melts a little.
After asking him if his visit home has been pleasant (it has not as Sheldon still has not found a way out of going to church with his mother on Christmas Eve) and a few remarks passed between him and Leonard and Penny, Amy sighs and looks at the screen longingly.
She thought seeing him might fan the fire, but it only burned brighter. She missed Sheldon, hopelessly and devotedly. She opens her mouth to say so but Sheldon interrupts her.
"Amy, please take me to a private area. My bedroom will suffice."
Amy peers over her shoulders to see if anyone heard him, and only one pair of bespectacled eyes and bushy eyebrows follow her curiously as she disappears down the hall and makes her way to Sheldon's room. She turns the knob and enters the quiet space, then closes the door behind her, still cradling the iPad in her arms.
"Have a seat," Sheldon says, and Amy rolls her eyes good-naturedly at his formality.
"Thank you," she mutters as she lowers herself to his mattress. "Is everything alright, Sheldon?" She turns the iPad to face her and holds it at arm's length as Sheldon's face shines brightly up at her.
"No, I'm afraid not. You see Amy, my nights are sleepless. My skin is cold, no matter how many layers of shirts or jackets I put on. My throat has a tickle in it, every time I think of you. I've started myself on a heavy duty decongestant as a precaution, but I fear that I'm not getting a cold. No, I think that you may be the cause of this."
Her heart pounds so hard that she can feel the vibrations against her closing throat and Amy is caught between wanting to apologize for causing him distress and confusion. "I don't understand."
"Of course you don't," he says with a frown. "I haven't finished explaining yet. Anyhow, while enduring countless hours on my train ride to Texas as well as a tedious welcome dinner that included my entire family and their mundane questions of why I hate God so much, I have drawn a conclusion for my symptoms."
She nods, doesn't dare to say a word and instead holds her breath as he continues.
"I miss you, Amy. And I will not feel right, be alright, until I am home again, with you."
Her tears fall but she doesn't bother to wipe them. "I miss you, too."
"I booked an earlier departure and will be home in two days instead of four. I leave tonight." He says this with an excitement that is palpable, so profound that she has no words, so instead, she grins and nods.
Because when Amy grins and nods, it means that she's excited, too.