a/n: Well, it's been a while. I was absolutely empty of anything to write. No matter what I tried, it just wouldn't work, and then Prom happened, and gave me an idea for this short one-shot. It ended up not being what I wanted to write at all, and it's not actually very good, but it's the first time in months I sad down at my computer and wrote, so I thought I'd publish it anyway. For those of you waiting for the next chapter of the fic I was writing over the summer, I hope this is the first step on the way to finishing that story. Especially since I have a detailed plan for it. It just has to be written.
A sigh of relief escaped her lips the very moment her bare foot met the softness of the hotel carpet, and as the elevator doors closed behind her, Amy found herself thanking a deity she didn't believe in that this day was finally over. After taking her other high heeled shoe off, she quickly made her way down the long corridor, her steps silent in the night. But as she reached the door of her room, she found herself looking at the door across from hers, and thoughts of her comfortable nightgown were replaced by an overwhelming urge to say good night to her boyfriend. He had retired almost an hour before she had, after congratulating Leonard and Penny on their new marital status and kissing her on the cheek, and chances were that he was already fast asleep, but there wasn't any harm in knocking on his door, was there?
She knocked only once, her other hand holding both of her shoes and her purse. She was not expecting much, so when the door opened almost immediately and she found herself looking into her boyfriend's blue eyes, she was taken aback.
"Sheldon," she breathed. "I'm sorry if I woke you up."
"You haven't," he answered, touching his bow-tie, and only then Amy noticed he only had taken his jacket off. He looked exactly as he had eight months before, when he'd told her he loved her for the first time. The words had only been uttered another couple of times since then, but Amy didn't need to hear them every day to know they were still as true as they had been on prom night.
"Actually," he said, interrupting Amy's train of thought, "I was waiting for you to come back to your room."
Amy raised an eyebrow. "Have you been standing behind your door for an hour, waiting to hear me open the door to my room?"
Sheldon shrugged. "I wanted to see you before I went to sleep," he simply answered, and Amy smiled.
"I love you," she said, and she had never meant it as much as she did right now, because she had never felt as loved in her entire life as she had since she'd met Sheldon.
And then, without any of them saying anything, Amy rose on her tiptoes and Sheldon bowed, their lips meeting, Sheldon's hands finding their place on her waist, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck. She barely registered the sound of her shoes and purse falling from her grasp and hitting the soft floor of his room, her mind occupied on savouring every little thing that had made kissing Sheldon one of her favourite things in the world.
There was the way his lips hungrily moved over hers, as if breathing was a luxury; there was the way his hands were going back and forth between her hips and the small of her back, as if he was drawing a map of her body; there was the way she could feel his heart beat increasingly faster against her own chest, as if it was trying to jump out of his rib cage and join hers. There were all the little sounds he made – sighing, whimpering, moaning – that made her ears tingle and her skin grow warmer. And, of course, there was the hardness between them.
Amy remembered the first time she'd felt it, although she hadn't known what it was at the time. Sheldon had let her intertwine her fingers with his as they had walked down from his apartment building rooftop all the way down to her car, parked about twenty meters away from the building door. On any other night, they probably would have said goodbye on the fourth floor landing, but this hadn't been just any other night.
He'd said "I love you," and even though she'd known for a long time that he had felt it, she never thought she'd hear him say it so soon. His confession, however, had broken down barriers that they had let build between them without even realizing. They'd slow danced the night away, his hands resting on her hips, her cheek pressed on his chest, his chin on the top of her head, her arms wrapped around him just above his bottom, and that night, as Sheldon kissed her goodnight by her car, Amy had found herself responding in a way she never had before. It was the first time she had let herself touch him as he kissed her.
She'd put her hands on his chest, her thumbs moving in the way she'd felt his do against her hips a dozen times before, and Sheldon had moaned against her lips, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. As she'd tried to pull away, Sheldon had tightened his grip on her, and for the first time, she'd felt his tongue force its way into her mouth. She'd been too startled to do much at first, and just as she had felt something hard pressing against her, she had also felt another panic attack build up from the newness and unknown of it all. Sheldon had brusquely let go of her and taken a step back. His eyes had been wild as he'd said "You should go, now," a bit too loudly.
"Sheldon?" she had said, worried by his sudden change in behaviour, and he had shaken his head. "I'm fine," he'd said. "Send — send me a text when you're home. So I know you arrived safely."
"As I always do," she had said, smiling, and Sheldon had smiled a little, too, but before she could add anything, he was already on his way to his apartment.
A few days later, as they had been walking out of the cinema — Sheldon had chosen to see Interstellar on their Date Night— he had taken a deep breath and said "Amy, I need to bring up something of importance." She'd looked at him from the corner of her eye, knowing that most things Sheldon considered important were things people frankly didn't care about, but when he added "It's about... kissing," she'd looked at him and seen the distressed look on his face.
"I know I was the one to add the Date Night Kiss Clause to the Relationship Agreement, but I'd like... I'd like for us to... not kiss."
"Sheldon..." Amy had started, completely taken aback by this new development. He'd told her he loved her a mere four days before, and now he didn't want to kiss her anymore?
"It's temporary," he had hastened to add, seeing the look of incomprehension in her eyes. "I... I don't know how to say it but..."
He'd stopped walking, then, and sighed. "When we kissed, after Prom, I — I felt..." A pause, a nervous lick of his lips, and then, looking down at his shoes, he breathed, "I had an erection, Amy."
Amy had felt like this was something they needed to talk about, but the middle of the street wasn't the place to do it. She had wondered just how much he had seen of the movie, if this had been plaguing him for days, if he had put his life on hold while he pondered on what his body wanted, and she had felt bad. She had ushered him back to her car, and there, in the privacy that only ever happens behind closed door, she had found herself at a lack of words.
She had waited for years for Sheldon to realize he wanted her in this way — because she had always known that deep down, he wanted it, even before he kissed her — and now that he was finally aware that it was happening, she just hadn't known where to stand.
"Just because you... find me pretty, it doesn't mean we have to do anything about it."
"That's what you said on Prom Night," Sheldon remarked.
"I would never pressure you into anything, Sheldon. If it happens... it happens. If it doesn't, well, that's fine too."
Sheldon had looked at her for a long time, then, and then, when he had spoken, his voice had been soft, almost broken. "Amy," he'd said, his eyes searching her face for an answer. "Amy, do you... do you not desire me anymore?"
That had definitely not been something Amy had expected him to say.
"Sheldon... I —" she had started, but he had interrupted her.
"I mean —" he had said, turning to look straight ahead through the windscreen, avoiding all eye contact with her. "I told you I love you, and you had a panic attack. And when I kiss you, you never... you never really do anything. And when I... well, when I did that thing with my tongue, you felt as if you were going to hyperventilate again. I don't understand, Amy."
"I don't understand either, Sheldon. You tell me you don't want to kiss, and now you're... what? Worried that I don't want you anymore?"
"I just don't want to kiss you if my desire for you is going to make you uncomfortable!" he'd exclaimed, looking at her again.
"Sheldon... are you saying that..."
Sheldon had nodded then, and Amy had found herself short of breath. "See!" he'd cried out. "You're panicking again!" Taking his face in his hands, he'd mumbled "Oh, this is a nightmare!" and they had stayed like this for a few minutes, Amy's own hands gripping the steering wheel like her life depended on it even though she had not been actually driving. What a pair they made, the two of them, with their crippling phobias and their poor emotional capacities. And yet, they had found each other, hadn't they? They had navigated this relationship for four years, and sure, not all of it had been easy, but it had been worth it. Because they loved each other.
"You know..." Amy started, and from the corner of her eye, she could see Sheldon looking at her from behind his fingers, "you never actually let me finish but... I love you, too."
"I know," Sheldon answered. "What's your point?"
"My point is, I want to be with you, Sheldon. I want to be with you in every way possible. And it's all so new, this... this passion between us, but it's there because we love each other. And it may take a while, but we'll get there."
She looked at him fully, then, and he had lowered his hands, so she had put her own against his cheek and caressed him just there. He had closed his eyes, inhaling sharply. "I still want you, Sheldon. Maybe not right away, but I do."
And so the following months had been about exploring this — the possibility of coitus. Exploring each other's desires and limits. They had started out with French kissing, and then one day Sheldon had reached second base over her cardigan. By February, Amy's hands had run over Sheldon's chest, under his tee-shirts, and in April, Sheldon finally allowed himself to properly caress her bottom. "I've been curious about doing this for so long," he had whispered as Amy had gasped.
Every time, the hardness had been there between them, reminder that Amy wasn't dreaming all of this, that Sheldon wanted her as much as she wanted him, and yet they'd never spoken of it. Amy's body had brushed against it, of course, when she'd been straddling his hips or he'd been on top of her on her couch, but it had never been on purpose. She had never let her hand traveled down there, no matter how badly she wanted to at times, as if doing so could shatter all they had been doing these last few months.
And there they were, now, on the night that saw their best friends tie the knot, away from everyone while the party was still going on in the hotel somewhere. Away from everyone, kissing like silly, drunken teenagers in a corridor, which Amy reckoned they were, in a way. Away from everyone, so in love Amy felt like she would burst at the seam, and then Sheldon pulled back.
"Amy," he whispered, his eyes half closed, and Amy realized she had trouble keeping hers open, too. "You're so pretty," he said, and Amy had learnt to know what this meant. But before she could say anything, he had tugged on her hand, ushering her inside his room, and shut the door. Amy felt herself being pressed against the wall, and Sheldon's lips on hers again, his hands, going straight for her bottom this time.
"Sheldon..." she breathed when his mouth left her lips to kiss its way to her ear.
"Amy," he whispered there. "Amy, I'm ready."
Amy could swear she felt her heart stop, then, unsure if Sheldon meant what she thought he did. She thought about a million things, then. This was a hotel room, so what about all the germs from the hundreds of people who'd slept in this room before? Was he drunk? She didn't want him to do anything he'd regret in the morning. Had he really thought this through, or was this a spur of the moment thing that he never intended to happen? Had she been selfish when she had decided to knock on his door? It was all too much, and she could feel her heart beat too fast, her breathing quicken, and before she knew it, Sheldon had carried her to his bed, and was using a pillow to put her feet up.
When she finally felt a bit better, minutes later, she found Sheldon sitting at the edge of the bed, his back turned to her.
"Sheldon?" she called, but he didn't answer. Didn't even turn towards her. "Sheldon?" she said again, and when he still wouldn't look at her, she sat up. "Sheldon, talk to me," she said, and finally Sheldon turned towards her, and she could see his nose was a bit red, and his eyes wet. "Oh, Sheldon!" she exclaimed, and she kneeled on the bed, joining him in a few movements. She sat besides him, and wrapped her arms around him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Gosh, Sheldon. I'm not... I'm not hurt, not at all. You just — you surprised me, that's all."
"Do you still want me, Amy?" he asked, and she was brought back to that day in the car. I just don't want to kiss you if my desire for you is going to make you uncomfortable!
"Of course, I do, Sheldon. But — this is a bit much. We both had a very long day, and we drank alcohol, not enough to lose our judgement, but enough to cloud it."
Sheldon smiled sadly. "You're right. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she said. "I really want you, Sheldon — all of you. But... I think I'd rather we do it in my own bed, or yours. Somewhere we consider home."
"Home..." Sheldon repeated, and then he cupped her cheek. "Home is wherever you are, Amy."
Amy smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest because she really was so, so loved. "I just don't think I want our first time to be in a hotel room we will never go back to," she explained, but then Sheldon shook his head. "No, no," he said. "What I mean is... I want to live with you."
For the second time that night, Amy felt her heart stop. "Sheldon... are you sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life, actually," and Amy smiled a smile so bright that she thought her cheeks would hurt. She softly kissed his lips, and she whispered her next words against his mouth, their breaths mingling in a way that was more erotic than anything she'd ever experienced. "We'll have to talk about it more thoroughly, and all of the technical details. But it's too late for that tonight."
Sheldon nodded, and then he asked, his breath short, "Can you sleep here tonight?"
It was the first time that Sheldon asked, although it had happened a few times before, and Amy smiled even more, more than she thought was humanly possible. "Of course," she said. "Let me go and get my nightgown."
Minutes later, after showers had been had and night clothes been put on, they were both tucked away in his bed, her cheek resting on the soft material of his pajama top, his hand stroking her hair, and the last thing Amy heard before she drifted off to sleep was "I love you so much, Amy."
a/n: A lot fluffier than what I usually write! What can I say, I'm on a Prom high. It was supposed to be the Shamy's first time, at first, and then I realized - they would never do it in some hotel room. Anyway. Reviews are what make the world go round. Or, at least, writers.