Leonard knows he has to up the ante somehow. One thing that hasn’t changed since their relationship started is Sheldon’s obsessive scheduling: Halo night is still set for eight o’clock sharp.
Exactly nine minutes before the guys are due to show up, Leonard catches Sheldon standing behind the couch trying to recalibrate one of the wireless controllers, drops to his knees in front of him, and unzips his pants. Sheldon has just enough time to get out a, “Leonard, what--” and then Leonard’s swallowing him whole and Sheldon is incapable of further speech.
Unlike some guys, Sheldon doesn’t walk around with a semi-permanent hard-on. Leonard gets to enjoy the delicious feeling of Sheldon hardening in his mouth, going from soft flesh to hard arousal in just a few good sucks. He rolls his tongue right around Sheldon while he can and feels Sheldon’s hands come to rest on his shoulders, fingertips digging in.
“Leonard! We only have eight minutes until the others arrive!”
Leonard just rolls his eyes up at Sheldon and then pins his hips to the back of the couch with his hands and takes him all the way in, swallowing around the head of Sheldon’s cock nudging at the back of his throat. It’s not a position he can hold for long but Sheldon’s moan of utter pleasure makes up for that.
He’s (he estimates) two minutes in, settled into a steady pace, Sheldon’s hips shaking under his hands (an upward peek tells him Sheldon is clinging to the back of the couch for balance, eyes shut, mouth open), when the sound of footsteps on the stairs alerts them both to Howard and Raj’s imminent appearance. Sheldon pulls away and turns around, grabbing the controller, just as Raj pushes the unlocked door open.
“Sorry we’re early,” Howard says, breezing in, flopping onto the couch, and starting to lay out the accoutrements of dinner on the table, judging from the rustling of bags and the clatter of plastic flatware. “Where’s your wife?”
Leonard’s about to stand up and protest, but Sheldon puts a warning hand on his head. “Leonard is not my wife, Wolowitz, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop making such ridiculous remarks.”
There’s enough space between the couch and Sheldon, the way he’s leaning forward against it that little bit, for Leonard to slide sideways and nudge his head in there. And Sheldon’s still hard.
“Yeah, Howard, be respectful, dude,” says Raj. Leonard hears the fridge door open, and runs his tongue along the underside of Sheldon’s cock. The hand on his head tightens in his hair. “Sheldon’s clearly the wife in this relationship.”
Sheldon presumably opens his mouth to say something to this, but Leonard opens his own mouth at the same time and takes Sheldon in, and whatever Sheldon was going to say comes out as a strangled gasp.
“Die quietly, Sheldon, jeez,” Howard says. “Raj, can you bring me a beer too?”
“What am I, your wife?”
Leonard closes his eyes and inhales. Sheldon’s pubic hair is tickling his nose; he smells of soap and of sweat and it makes him wish they could be in the bedroom instead of here. But being here is pretty damn good by itself, especially when Sheldon starts swaying his hips very slightly, apparently unable to resist the feeling of Leonard’s mouth around his cock.
“Did you remember to ask for my chicken to be diced?” Sheldon asks, fingers still tangled through Leonard’s hair. Leonard starts moving his head a little more so that Sheldon doesn’t have to make any tell-tale movements.
“Crap, I knew I forgot something,” Howard says. “I don’t know what difference it makes to the taste of the whole thing.”
“One tiny change in a routine can lead to that entire routine being irrevocably disrupted.”
Leonard decides to go for a big change and takes Sheldon in all the way again, reaching up to cup and tease his balls. Sheldon’s entire body goes tense when he does it and he can feel the very particular tension that means Sheldon’s close to coming. Who knew that the potential to be caught in the act could have such an effect on him? Does the idea of being found with Leonard on his knees, his hand in Leonard’s hair silently urging him not to stop, while Leonard sucks and licks and tries not to be too loud about it, actually turn Sheldon on?
Leonard’s pretty sure it does and resolves to find out for sure later, maybe after he’s taken care of the tent in the front of his own pants. He presses the heel of his free hand against it and lets out the softest of soft whimpers around his mouthful, and just like that Sheldon’s coming into his mouth.
Yeah. They really have to discuss this kink.
“You did at least remember to order brown rice instead of white, I trust,” Sheldon says far too calmly for a man who actually has a couple of strands of Leonard’s hair hanging from his fingers as evidence of how hard he just came.
“Oh, dude, I told you it was brown rice!”
“I thought you were making a racist joke!”
“You have got to stop assuming that just because I’m a minority I think I’ve got some sort of green card for making racist jokes.”
Sheldon’s hand moves to nonchalantly do his pants back up. “Don’t mind him, Raj; Howard thinks everything’s a joke.” He steps over Leonard and moves back around to the front of the couch to take up his accustomed place. “However, as it’s now exactly eight o’clock, it’s time for the jokes to stop and the fragging to commence.”
“We can’t start without Leonard!” Raj protests, a soft flump indicating that he’s just sat down where Leonard used to sit before taking over the middle seat of the couch. “Seriously, Sheldon, where is he?”
“He was taking a shower before you came in.” Which is true, even if the time factor was a couple of hours rather than a couple of minutes. “He had a hard day at the lab.”
“Are you sure you didn’t just give him a hard day?” Raj jibes, snickering. Leonard, who is now crawling behind the furniture to reach the bathroom, is sorely tempted to reveal his presence by smacking Raj upside the head.
Sheldon sighs. “Eat grenade, Raj. It would be (boom) tastier than this mustard-less, soy-sauce-bereft excuse of a meal.”
With all three of them focused on the bits of Raj raining down all over the screen, Leonard makes it to the bathroom, brushes dust off himself, makes a mental note to vacuum, and splashes water over his face and hair to make it look like he did just shower. He’s sort of sad about flattening his hair down with the water; the way it looked when he first looked into the mirror, rumpled and messy, was a nice reminder of how it’s rubbed against the back of the couch as Sheldon silently thrust into his mouth...
He sighs and unzips his pants. Given the choice between going out there a couple minutes late and going out there with a raging hard-on, he’d rather risk Sheldon’s wrath at his delay.
Besides, now he knows how he can make it up to him.