I was feeling wicked. Sheldon had come over. Sometimes he did. He was sitting on the couch tapping away at his laptop. I smiled. He was cute, with those large blue eyes and his tall thinness. He was so different from Leonard. Sometimes I wanted something different, and tonight I would have it.
"Sheldon, want a drink? A beverage?" It was Sheldon protocol to offer a guest a beverage, I knew this. I knew all his rules.
"Yes, please," he said, not looking up from his tapping. I got out my bottle of coke that was half empty, and poured some of it into a tall glass. Then I splashed in some vodka. He'd never know.
"Here," I said, handing him the glass. He nodded and took it and took a long swallow. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he drank it and smiled again. Poor sweet Sheldon. He couldn't hold his liquor, I knew this, too.
He tapped away and I watched reality T.V. and watched the amount of coke in his glass go down. I got him more without even asking, and splashed more vodka in this time. He drank it, sweet trusting soul.
He stopped tapping, saved whatever he had been doing and closed the laptop, set it on the couch beside him, between us. He licked his lips. Blinked his eyes slow. He was feeling it now. His second glass was nearly empty.
"Hey, Sheldon," I said, hearing the wicked in my voice. He didn't. He never picked up on anything. Leonard said he was autistic and that was why.
"Hey," he said, and I knew he was buzzing now. I knew he was more relaxed and didn't know why. He looked at me and I was caught in his blue eyed stare. If he wasn't drunk he rarely made such direct eye contact, and Leonard said that was a part of his being autistic, too.
"I want to show you something," I said, and he gazed at me, and I tried to imagine how he felt. Did he feel like getting closer to people when he was drinking like I did? Did he feel like caressing my soft skin and touching my shiny hair?
"Okay," he said, and I stood and pulled on his hand to get him to stand. I could feel him pulling away somehow, even though I was just touching his hand. Being intoxicated hadn't changed that. I remembered the very first time I hugged him, when he and Leonard returned from their failed attempt to get my T.V. back from Kurt. He had stiffened up and pulled away even while he was in my arms.
I brought him to my bedroom, and there was nothing in here to show him. There was just my paper Japanese lamp and my unmade bed, my cluttered dresser. His room was as neat as a museum. A museum exhibit behind glass, 21st century genius' bedroom. I giggled.
"What?" he said, and I didn't know if he meant what did I want to show him or what was I laughing at.
"Nothing," I said, and pushed him toward the bed. I wondered how drunk he was and how much control that would give me. He stumbled and fell, sat down hard on my soft bed.
"How are you feeling?" I said, coming toward him, pushing him from a sitting to a lying position. He let himself be pushed. He laid back on my bed and closed his eyes, and I worried he was at the passing out point. It was only two glasses of coke with vodka, but he never drank, and maybe I put in more than I meant to.
I was lying on top of him, and I could feel his muscles and bones beneath me, I could feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed. I saw his eyes move beneath the closed lids. Then he opened his eyes, and close up they were such an amazing blue.
"Okay," he said, "weird,"
"Yeah," I said, and leaned in, kissed him softly on the lips. His eyes widened in surprise, and then closed, and he kissed me back. The wicked part of me squealed in joy. I'd wanted this for a long time, wanted to taste his lips and feel him struggle beneath me. He twisted slightly under my weight.
"Penny," he said between kisses, his speech breathless, his voice low and scratchy. I kissed him again and then let him speak.
"Penny, what about Leonard?"
"What about him?" I said, pinning his wrists above his head, kissing him deeper than I had dared. Now he twisted more, and moved his wrists slightly in my grasp. He could break free if he wanted to. I knew the strength of men, even nerdy geniuses.
"He, he's your…boyfriend," He didn't break free of my hold, so I knew he didn't want to break free.
"We're only kissing, God, Sheldon…don't tell him," I said, kissing him more, feeling his tongue with my tongue. I knew no one had ever kissed him like this. No one had ever done a lot of things.
He didn't agree with me, I could see that in the look in his eyes, but he still let me hold him down and kiss him when I wanted to, so I hoped he wouldn't tell. I kissed his neck, feeling the hard and fast pulse beneath my lips.
"Sheldon, don't tell," I breathed the words, so soft he may not have heard them, and his eyes closed again.