The kiss felt better than the punch.
Later, Sheldon would reflect that he might have worked that out for himself from first principles, rather than through this messy process of participant-observer, but just then it was a revelation.
Amy's lips were on his, and it almost hurt but it didn't, and then it was more than that. Her hands were on his neck and she was pressed all against him and, good grief, but there was no ignoring just how much she was shaped liked a girl. Then, somehow, her mouth was open and his was too and it was just ridiculous how wet and hot everything was. Amy was kissing him and there was nothing he could do about it.
Sheldon tugged desperatrely at the ties that held his hands, but it did no good. The plastic dug into his skin, but wouldn't budge. He couldn't push her away or duck from her touch, but then he deserved this, didn't he? He couldn't touch her or hold her. He was being punished.
She broke away, finally, and then she was just there, her hands on his chest. He had to say something. Why couldn't he say anything? Why wouldn't she say anything? How were they supposed to get anywhere, if they weren't talking? That was how people communicated, wasn't it? And still, his mind was a blank.
He tried his wrists again and couldn't tear his eyes away from Amy, so very close. Flushed cheeks and shallow breath, trembling just a bit, with parted lips and bright, bright eyes. He had never seen her like this.
How is she doing this? Amy wasn't tied to anything. How was she making herself stand there, with her eyes and her hands all like that, all of it right there, visible, physical, made up of spit and skin and heartstrings? Anyone could see. How could she be so brave? He tried twisting his hands until the cable ties hurt. Maybe the left one was a little looser? Not enough.
Amy leaned in close and Sheldon stopped breathing. She was going to kiss him again. She was. She wasn't. Her lips skimmed by and settled on his neck instead, and that also felt better than getting punched. She traced her way down to the hollow of his throat so lightly he should barely have noticed it, if only there had been anything else in the universe he was capable of noticing.
Then, when he was lost and distracted and not expecting it at all, she kissed him again. Sheldon thought that wasn't fair, but then none of this was fair. Amy was kissing him and there was nothing he could do about it, so he closed his eyes and kissed her back.
Sheldon kissed Amy, instead of letting Amy kiss him, and he had barely moved or done anything, but he knew she noticed. He could feel it in the way her hands tightened on her shoulders and her body shifted against him and her breathing changed.
Good god, it was a feedback loop! He knew she knew he knew she liked this! There they were, spread out like junk at a garage sale. The fears and the desires, all the needing, all the wanting, all the secret things, dragged out into the sun and there for him to see. How is she doing this? Why hasn't she run away yet?
When they broke apart again, and she was staring at him like she had never seen him before either, Sheldon felt the pradigm shift in his bones. He knew Amy Farrah Fowled better now than he had known Amy Farrah Fowler fifty seconds earlier. Only, fifty second earlier, he would have confidenly said it was not possible to know Amy Farrah Fowler better than he knew her, because learning everything about her had been the best thing in his life for three years.
The left cable-tie snapped where Amy had sawed at it before, and suddenly Sheldon had a free hand. He reached for her without thinking and touched her face. He hadn't been able to, last night. He had wanted to, but it had been too much. What if someone had come in just then? What if she had woken up? But she was awake now and he touched her anyway, because he had to know.
He ran his finger along her jaw and she closed her eyes and leaned in close, silent and solemn, and then she bit her lips. There was nothing for it but to follow, and he traced her lower lip with his thumb and felt the tiny shudder that ran through her like it was the earthquake that was finally going to fling Los Angeles into the ocean.
It hit him like a bus. This might be what all the sex fuss is about.
"Amy," he whispered. But Amy only closed her eyes tighter and shook her head. "Amy, I-"
She caught his hand and drew it away from her face. For a moment, she was still, but then she opened her eyes and she was pulling away and letting go, and Sheldon was left stranded and alone, moored to the mainframe.
Amy climbed off the table, and gave him one last look bit her lip again before she turned away, and this time he was too far away to do anything about it.
Note: at last, I get to something of the smut I promised! This story took a slightly darker turn than I originally planned, but I suppose, like everyone, that i'm just working out my season 6 issues. Thank all you guys so much for the reviews! It's really motivating to know someone is reading, and really cool and interesting to see what draws your attention and reactions. Thank you!
