notes: shitty otp squee drabble is shitty, but my heart practically burst out of my ribcage when sheldon and amy just almost-kissed last episode and it's implied that they're doing it every date night and this fluffy thing wrote itself.
He's at the door and he needs to leave. He really needs to leave, before he's fallen too far down the rabbit hole, but his feet are frozen. Animals gnaw their own limbs off rather than remain in traps; he wishes he had half the strength.
"Sheldon?" Amy asks, her head dipped in surprise. Breaks his reverie, as she is apt. "It's eleven o'clock. According to the Relationship Agreement's iron-clad statutes, you should be on your way home."
Sheldon swallows hard. She's still the same, purple cardigan thick glasses loose dark hair, but he's finding it hard to meet her quizzical gaze. "Do you remember our Valentine's Day trip? How I... kissed you?"
(They've established an unofficial moratorium on the subject. He's tried very hard and cannot expunge said subject from his consciousness.)
"Of course," she replies, furrowing her brow. A faint, telltale blush stains her cheeks.
"It has occurred to me," he says, hesitant, "that the dynamics of our liaison have changed. Therefore, maybe changing the Relationship Agreement is in order."
"You aren't breaking up with me again, are you?"
"No," he reassures hurriedly. "I'm suggesting we kiss... on a regular basis. At the end of our scheduled Date Nights. I believe that should be enough to sate our carnal urges."
(I liked it, he does not say. Cannot bring himself to say, yet.)
"Pinch me, I'm dreaming," Amy mutters under her breath. Then more loudly, she says, "A kiss the second Thursday of every month? Are those your terms?"
"The third Thursday if the month has five," he corrects. "And no tongue. Let's refrain from exposing ourselves to unnecessary microbes, please."
"It's the end of a Date Night now," she points out. "Is that what you're waiting for?"
He nods and leans in, half shuts his eyes, but then he pauses. Is he meant to capture her bottom or top lip first? What angle should he approach? Christ above, why didn't he consider all these possibilities and reach a conclusion earlier?
"Sheldon- are you okay?"
"I am analyzing which technique to use," he explains, as if the answer is obvious and dangling right beneath her nose. "Cosmopolitan claimed that pressure and moisture level need careful regulation, while Seventeen magazine-"
"But... why?" she asks. She's laughing a little now, her previous reticence gone- he glowers back. This is no laughing matter.
"Because," he states, "if I'm going to take up giving carnal pleasure, you can rest assured that I will be the best at it."
Amy smiles, and she moves to touch his sharp jawbone. He stands still and lets her. "You pored over a variety of seedy sexual websites? Impressive, Dr. Cooper, except for one missing detail."
"What detail?" he demands, stepping back. "I was very thorough, Dr. Fowler. Those websites gave far more details than I'd ever wanted, in fact."
"Well," she starts, content as a cat with a saucer of milk, "sometimes practice is the only thing that makes a skill perfect. Sometimes no theory can be a sufficient substitute."
"You're saying my research wasn't enough?" he asks indignantly, just for show.
"Yes." She comes close and kisses him quiet. He shuts his eyes again instead, buries his pride and lets himself drown.