"Oh, Leonard, hi," Penny said, opening the door. She was in her pink robe, her hair piled on top of her head in a loose bun.

"Hi, can I come in? Is it too late?" he said, shifting from foot to foot.

"No, it's fine, come in," she said, turning from him and walking into the apartment. He followed her.

"What's up?" she said, sitting on the couch, tucking her legs under her. He stood near her couch, still shifting, licking his lips.

"Look, I know I shouldn't even be asking you, but when Sheldon was here...what happened?"

"What happened? Nothing. We ate spaghetti, you know he loves it with those little hot dogs in it, I don't really like it that way, but it makes him so happy so I always just put them in-"

"Penny. I'm not talking about the spaghetti. I mean, did he, did you two, uh, talk about me?"

He felt himself having a hard time breathing waiting for her to tell him what Sheldon said, if she even would. Penny wouldn't break his confidence if he had asked her not to mention it to him.

She gazed at him, her green blue eyes wavering like water, like the ocean on a sunny day, her lips pursed into a little bow.

"Leonard," she said, patting the space next to her on the couch, and he sat there.

"Leonard, I think you have to stop being afraid of talking to Sheldon about this stuff. He won't bite you, he really won't. He'll just tell you the truth,"

"That's kind of what I'm afraid of,"

"Why?" she said, pulling her robe down her legs.

"Because Sheldon doesn't communicate like everyone else, he never tells you what he thinks you want to hear. I don't think he can even fathom that. It's all truth or lies with him, it's all so stark. I guess I'm just afraid of hearing things I don't want to hear,"

She laughed at him, but gently, little bubbles of laughter that burst before they could hurt him.

"He asked me not to tell you...so you'll have to go and ask him yourself," she said, her gaze trying to pierce him. He stood up, knowing that Sheldon was in bed and probably asleep already, knowing that he felt afraid to wake him. He took several steps toward her door and then he turned back to her.

"Is it, can you tell me if it's bad?" he said, and the question was so naked and pleading that he nearly cringed.

"Leonard, just go talk to Sheldon. You can do it, I promise you,"

He left and went back to his apartment and felt all the caring suddenly leave him. Sheldon was so beautiful, so beautiful. He wanted to have him, to own him, to devour him. He wanted a relationship. But if it wasn't going to work he had to know. If it was too much for Sheldon to take he had to know. He'd risk waking him, risk hearing a truth he couldn't take, risk being brought to his psychic knees. He'd risk it all for the truth. Like Sheldon he prized the truth. He liked things being sugar coated and cushioned, hearing the harsh things told in lovely euphemisms, but there came the time when only the truth would do.

He strode across the apartment and down the tiny hall that lead past the bathroom and to their bedrooms. He knocked on Sheldon's door, the knock firm, decisive. He opened the door before he was granted permission, because he would wake him if necessary. He was tired of feeling like he was crawling out of his own skin, the desire prickling every nerve ending.

Sheldon slept, his breathing slow and even. He gazed at him, feeling a warmth spreading through his cells. Sheldon. Couldn't things be easier than this? Couldn't his brain leave him alone for one single solitary second? But he knew it couldn't. He knew it would drive him insane wondering what he had told Penny, or asked her.

"Sheldon," he said, shaking him gently. Sheldon's eyes fluttered open and he looked at him with the complete lack of recognition that characterized his waking. Sheldon always woke up almost completely disoriented.

"Sheldon, it's me, Leonard," he said, and watched the knowledge of the time and place slowly fill his eyes.

"Leonard?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes, blinking, trying to see the clock.

"I know it's late, I'm sorry, but I think we have to talk,"

"Now?" Sheldon said, sitting up.

"Yes, now," Leonard sat on the edge of the bed, and Sheldon moved over to give him more room.

He cleared his throat, determined to lay it all on the line.

"Listen, I'm a mess. It's not you, well, not your fault, really. It's me. It's the way I worry about everything and second guess everything and wonder what everything means, you know how each action has an equal and opposite reaction? It's like I'm always trying to calculate everything involving us and it's not working. Not that I don't think this is working, but I think all my anxiety and uncertainty isn't working. I don't want to rush you, or push you, but I don't ever know what to do. Does this make any sense?"

Sheldon was listening, squinting his eyes a little in the dim light, and he nodded.

"I realized that I could just ask you and you'd tell me how things are. I can't tell what you're thinking or how you're feeling because of your lack of...I don't know. I can't really tell because you don't seem to show your emotions, which isn't a bad thing, it just makes it tricky for me to know where we are. So, where are we?"

Sheldon looked at him, and now he could see the slight puzzlement in his eyes.

"We're in my bedroom, but I sense you are asking a question about our relationship. But I don't know what you're asking. What do you want to know?"

Leonard felt something in his chest loosen just a bit by what Sheldon had said. Why? Was it because he characterized what they had as a relationship?

"I want to know how you feel about things, if I'm pushing you too far in any way. I want to know if...I don't know..." Was he actually thinking about asking Sheldon if he loved him? He didn't think he could ask that. He was asking enough.

"How I feel? Oh. I feel comfortable with you, I already felt that in the context of our friendship, and now that we have a different sort of relationship I still feel this comfort but now it is mingled with an excitement. I like kissing you, I like when you do more than that, and I also like how I'm not entirely certain about it, because it causes adrenaline to be released and also dopamine to attach to pleasure receptors in my brain, so I have felt more pleasure than I ever have, perhaps,"

All of this said with almost no expression, so analytical. Did he love him, or did he think love was a result of chemicals that were released in his brain? Maybe time would tell. Whatever he told Penny couldn't have been that bad, and he decided he would let it stay between them. Sheldon had told him all he needed to know for now, and he smiled and leaned in toward him, kissing him right on the lips, trailing his hand down his chest to his stomach and to the waistband of his pajama pants. He hoped to release some more adrenaline and dopamine in that exquisite brain of his.