Sound Mind and Judgment
Part II: Love Hypothesis
Freaking out, Sheldon had learned, was a natural part of sexual exploration for the inexperienced lover. The war between mind and body broke barriers meant to keep them safe, and chivalry barely had time to rebuild those walls between battles. Needless to say, Sheldon and Amy were on each other like white on rice, and the experiment was progressing to the point where they were no longer freaked out if one or the other nipped too hard or left a hickey. They jokingly referred to it as 'shirtless Saturdays.' Sheldon put in a load of laundry and came back to his room to find Amy topless. They'd play with each other's bodies until it was time to shift the laundry. Once everything was dry, they'd fold the clothes together. Then they'd make out until they were tired and call it a night.
They didn't cuddle like they used. They were both afraid to because they'd lost the ability to prevent an intimate moment from becoming sexual. Even now, with everyone gathered at Sheldon's apartment, watching Fiddler on the Roof and singing the songs, he and Amy stayed on opposite sides of the room, worried that one simple touch would send them reeling out of control.
Raj paused the movie at the end of the first act, requesting a bathroom break and a refresh on the cocktails. Penny mixed the drinks, and she kept pestering Amy to order something, but Amy categorically refused alcohol tonight. Even sober, they'd been so out of control of late that she was afraid of herself. She stood alone by the window and Leonard kept tipping his head to point it out.
"Go talk to her," Leonard finally hissed, turning Sheldon by the shoulders and shoving him toward Amy.
It had been a long time since they'd talked; a long time since they'd gotten words in between the kissing. There was so much to say and catch up on. There were things that he'd brooded about and worried over alone and he was desperate to share his fears with his best friend.
"Do you love me?" Sheldon asked. He hadn't meant to say it, but now that the question had slipped out, he found that he desperately needed to know the answer.
"Do I what?" Amy asked.
"Do you love me?" Sheldon repeated.
"Do I love you?"
Sheldon started to worry that they'd end up quoting Tevye and Golde's song from the second act of Fiddler. Sheldon felt the urge to wash over the embarrassing conversation with kisses and make out until conversation lost relevance, but he crossed his arms, squared his shoulders, and steeled his nerves. There would be no kissing until he had an answer. Maybe.
"What is your criteria?" Amy asked, arms crossed equally tightly across her chest as if they could hold in her lust. It wasn't fair. When she crossed her arms, it flaunted her breasts.
"Criteria for love?" Sheldon clarified. He hadn't thought deeply about it. The question had leaked out so unbidden, he hadn't had time to prepare. All that came to mind were the memory verses he'd learned in church as a child. Sheldon had always been studious about memory verses, because if he could quote all ten at the end of a lesson series, he got a prize. Plus, his mother expected no less of him.
"Love is patient, love is kind," he quoted. "It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."
"That asks an awful lot," Amy said critically, shifting foot to foot.
"It does," Sheldon agreed, thinking about all the ways the passage did not describe him. Maybe the reason Christians were so down on themselves all the time is because they kept such high expectations. But it would be nice to reach such goals. "I've also heard that there is no fear in love. Perfect love drives out fear because fear involves torment."
Amy ducked her head shamefully. "I feel fear quite often. It is only logical to conclude that I do not love you."
"I am forced to a similar conclusion," Sheldon said. It felt like his chest was caving in. He'd never imagined that it would be so difficult to tell a woman that he did not love her. "I'm disappointed."
"As am I."
Sheldon's body quaked. He wanted to beg, plead, and fight for them as a couple. The inches between them may as well have been miles. Tentatively, he dropped his hands and she did the same. His hand reached out and hers met in the middle. It hurt so much, like he was saying good-bye. Getting a cat wouldn't help nearly enough. A tear rolled off his chin, splashing on their joint hands.
"I would like to love you without fear," Amy said, her eyes fixed on the tear drop.
"How do you propose we proceed?"
"Sit next to me on the couch for the remainder of this movie," Amy said confidently. He was glad she had a plan. "Hold me like you used to before we were afraid. If we succeed, we may yet achieve love."
Sheldon nodded his agreement, too choked by emotion to speak. He pulled Amy into a grateful hug, but he didn't kiss her. Whenever temptation and lust threatened, he simply reminded himself that he loved her. Maybe if he behaved like it was already true, then it would become true.
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"Sheldon?"
Sheldon stirred at the sound of Leonard's voice. His back ached from falling asleep on the couch, and he was pinned by Amy's body. After the movie, they'd stayed up, cuddling and talking, saying all the words that they hadn't had time to say when they were enslaved to their physical lust.
"What time is it?" Sheldon asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Ten minutes to Dr. Who," Leonard answered, going into the kitchen and pouring himself a bowl of cereal.
"It's morning?" Sheldon exclaimed. Sheldon was fully alert now, taking stock of the situation. Amy was fast asleep, her head resting on his chest. They were both fully clothed down to the shoes. They'd managed a whole night without becoming overwhelmed by lust. "I do love her."
"If that's what you kids are calling it these days," Leonard shrugged, carrying his bowl of cereal into the living room and plopping down in his favorite chair.
"Sarcasm?" Sheldon checked.
"A matter of opinion. Shall I leave you two alone?"
"No," Sheldon said, shifting and digging the remote out of the couch cushions, turning on BBC America. He was hungry for breakfast, but content to hold Amy and watch his program. The routine felt natural despite Amy's presence. He and Leonard still made commentary during the program and discussed the flawed science in the commercial breaks.
About twenty minutes in, Amy stirred again, whispered good morning, and started fingering his nipple through his shirt. He thought it was unintentional until the commercial break came and she gave him a light pinch.
"You're being naughty," Sheldon whispered in her ear.
"Yes," Amy murmured, sucking in her cheeks, making her seductive face. "It's significantly easier now that I feel safe."
The comment made Sheldon feel warm and happy. He leaned over and kissed her temple and her chin, intentionally avoiding the sweet spot on her neck. When they'd cataloged their physiological responses to kissing, Sheldon had always used the information as a go-to list so he didn't waste time on things she only liked a little. Now he realized he could use the information in reverse to control her level of arousal and keep things safe. The commercials ended and Amy got up from the couch, excusing herself to go freshen up. Freshen up was one of those mysterious female euphemisms for 'transform into smoking hot babe.' Sheldon offered her a spare toothbrush and she joked about using Leonard's. She was considerate enough to know not to joke about using his.
Sitting up on the couch, Sheldon found it hard to keep his attention fully on Dr. Who. He kept rubbing his hand over his abused nipple, wondering just how often and how hard Amy would have to tweak it to leave a permanent bruise.
"Leonard, can I ask you something," Sheldon said.
"Uh oh," Leonard said, muting the Doctor's whimsical tirade with the TARDIS. "Sure, go ahead."
"Do you ever find yourself confused by the things that arouse you?"
"I'm going to regret asking this, but what do you mean?"
Sheldon pressed his lips together and stared at the muted TV. "Never mind. If you've never been confused by arousal, then the question is moot."
"No, I've been plenty confused by arousal. I just need a little more guidance to narrow down the parameters of this inquiry," Leonard said scientifically, resting his forearms on his knees. He was using that open and helpful tone that signified his willingness to walk Sheldon through an uncertain social situation.
Sheldon shifted uncomfortably, his desire to know the fate of Dr. Who warring with his eagerness to resolve his internal conflicts. Last night, he and Amy had agreed that part of what frightened them was insufficient expression of expectations in physical intimacy. But then, in order to express his physical desires, Sheldon first had to understand them.
"When she pinches and bites, it hurts, but I like it," he confessed, his fingers twiddling nervously. "I want her to bite harder and… I shouldn't like pain. It's evolutionarily unsound behavior."
"Well so long as she's not a vampire or a cleverly disguised tiger, she's not going to kill you," Leonard pointed out.
Sheldon cocked his head. He hadn't considered those possibilities, but they gave him even more reason to be cautious. Amy would stop if he asked her to, but he wasn't sure that he would ask her to. "Does it make me a sadist?"
"I don't think so," Leonard said slowly. "There's no spanking or bondage, right?"
"No. God no. No!" Sheldon exclaimed, jumping off the couch and rubbing his arms frantically, sweeping the thought off his skin. The fear covered him like a swarm of fire ants. Bondage? When Sheldon was a kid, a bully and a bunch of neighbor kids had stripped him down to his underpants and tied him to a lamp post. His brother had found him three hours later and they'd never told their mom. But his brother stopped trying to wrestle and hog-tie him after that. "There will never be any tying up of any kind. Never."
"Then you're probably not a sadist," Leonard concluded, nodding reassuringly. "A little odaxelagnia is fine, so long as there's no blood-letting. But you should talk to your girlfriend about it."
"I don't understand why I like it," Sheldon grumbled, sinking back onto the couch. "I don't understand why I let her so close—why I let her do things to me that are scandalous to speak of."
"You did say you loved her," Leonard said helpfully.
"We're still testing that hypothesis."
"Well, when you love someone, you're not afraid to experiment with dangerous and scandalous things because you trust the person you're with not to hurt you or make fun of you."
"Is that how you convinced Pria to have astronomically incorrect Star Trek sex with you?" Sheldon asked.
Leonard looked startled, then he ducked his head, nodding and mumbling. "Yes. Yes, that's exactly how that happened."
Sheldon mulled over the thought, rubbing his chest again. The night without touching had resolved some fears, but not all. At least he and Amy had proven to each other that they were still capable of talking rationally.
Amy returned from the bathroom, practically glowing with her special feminine radiance. She went to the kitchen, preparing breakfast for herself.
"Amy, can I have a hickey?" Sheldon asked. He liked being marked by her, even if the implication made him nervous.
"You know the rules," Amy answered. Smiling, Sheldon settled back on the couch and un-muted the TV.
"Rules?" Leonard asked.
"No hanky-panky in the living room," Sheldon replied.
"So you're—"
"Shh," Sheldon said. "There's ten minutes of Dr. Who left."
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