Sheldon drew himself up to full height, his arms neatly folded below his chest.
The crowd milling about the comic shop became subject to his careful scrutiny. One by one, he catalogued the competition, his confidence growing with each passing second. The level of dedication from their fellow cosplayers sorely lacked, and boy, did it show.
He looked over at his partner and bid, "Look at them, Leonard. A sea of amateurs."
Beside him, Leonard fidgeted with his hands as if he didn't know what to do with them. His internal struggle was apparent. Sheldon couldn’t blame him for the urge to cover up. After years of hiding away beneath layers of clothing, it was a major step in Leonard’s progress to expose such vast amounts of flesh in a public setting, despite the layer of green paint that still served as a sort of compromise.
A minute later and Sheldon began to wonder if they shouldn’t have come as Kirk and Spock instead. But as he looked on, Leonard sucked in a steadying breath and adjusted a few strands of the long, dark curls draped across his shoulders. With his exhale came an exhilarated confidence to match Sheldon's.
"There’s a really good chance we’ll actually win this thing," Leonard turned to beam up at him.
Sheldon, for his part, couldn't agree more. His smirk confirmed it.
They weaved their way through the crowd to the refreshment table. As they approached, Leonard stepped out from behind his Cardassian counterpart. Raj barely caught the pretzel piece from falling out of his mouth.
“Oh my god, dude, what are you wearing? And how are you managing to make it not absolutely hideous?”
Leonard flushed, shrugging. “You make a really good Aladdin, Raj.”
They chatted for a while about their outfits, exchanging tips on makeup and where one could purchase a high quality tarboosh. Raj bowed intricately when Sheldon remarked on its authenticity.
When Wil Wheaton showed up half an hour later with the prizes at stake, the air of excitement increased notably through the comic shop. Mingling was the name of the game. The more people who saw an outfit, the more likely it was to garner votes. The two physicists stuck together in an effort to cement themselves as solid contenders in the couples category.
Howard, showing up late dressed as Captain Mal Reynolds, made the mistake of engaging Sheldon in a debate over whether or not the making of Serenity was a declaration of defeat.
“They had at least a couple more years worth of possibility,” Howard insisted. “By releasing the movie, they basically ensured that no one would give the show another chance.”
Sheldon scoffed. “Please. It was their only shot at closure. No matter how strong the cult following was or how insistent a letter you send to every television network on behalf of Joss Whedon, there’s no changing the minds of people who can’t see genius when it’s airing in front of their eyes.”
“--leave the crossplay for the pretty boys!”
Sheldon’s ears perked up. Amidst cruel laughter he heard a splash, and realizing that Leonard was no longer beside him, he swiveled around.
His eyes landed on Stuart through the crowd, yelling with as much authority as he could for the two offenders to leave. As they grumbled and made their way out, Stuart pressed a ragged but clean towel and a container of wipes into Leonard’s hands, beginning to lead him away. Sheldon quickened the steps he hadn’t yet realized he’d been taking toward them.
Leonard’s thin voice reached him as he neared. “...get Sheldon for me?”
A warmth pooled in Sheldon’s stomach to hear Leonard asking for him. He closed the distance and placed a hand on Leonard’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Stuart. I can take it from here.”
Stuart bowed his head. “Not a problem, Sheldon. I’m sorry about those guys. Like I told Leonard, you’re free to use the back room as long as you need.”
Leonard sounded weak when he offered his own, “Thanks.”
Ignoring the stares of those nearby, they found themselves in a miniature version of the comic shop. Most of the counters and shelves were covered in neat stacks of boxes, figures, board games, and books. Sheldon closed the door behind them and turned to face Leonard. It struck him to see a noticeable wetness threatening to spill from his eyes, and the green shade of his face seemed darker. Sheldon stepped forward, touching the back of his fingers to one of Leonard’s ruddy cheeks.
“Are you all right?” he murmured.
Leonard shrugged, casting his gaze off to the side.
Sheldon sighed. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Then perhaps you’ll wish to talk about it.”
He had to take his time with Leonard. Partly to avoid mussing up the impeccable paint job, but more so to help him in a way he truly needed. With one of the mild wipes Stuart had left with them, Sheldon gently began to clean the sticky mess from where it had splashed onto Leonard’s body. Leonard held still, tilting and shifting when Sheldon required it. His chin wavered every so often as the only sign that he was still shaken. From arm and shoulder, down his clavicle and the rest of his torso, no spot was spared.
“This clean-up would have been far more difficult had your costume required more than a few scraps of clothing,” Sheldon said lightly. He peered at Leonard from under his brow to see a shaky smile. It was a step.
He moved to clean the runoff still leisurely dripping down Leonard’s thigh. Working his way inward, Sheldon slipped his hand underneath the loose cloth draped over Leonard’s lower half.
Sheldon drew a gasp from Leonard as he shifted to cup the erection trapped behind his panties. “And how long has this been here?” he asked, eyebrow quirking.
Leonard wet his lips and glanced at Sheldon before ducking his head. “F-for a while.”
Sheldon knew what that meant. Which also meant he knew exactly how to make this better for Leonard. His best friend, his partner. His charge. With a gentle swipe of his thumb, a promise of return, Sheldon finished his task and disposed of the trash in a small bin by the door.
He didn’t miss a single beat, even as Leonard started speaking, thanking him for his help and offering to rejoin the party with a voice that suggested he was in no way prepared for such a thing. Sheldon strode with purpose toward his vibrant lover, and scooped him into a searing kiss.
Leonard’s arms swung immediately around his neck. He clutched onto Sheldon for dear life. Without parting their lips, Sheldon led him against a counter lined with long boxes. The sudden contact elicited a groan from Leonard that Sheldon quickly swallowed. He wanted more for himself, and so he sought it out, sliding his tongue deeply into Leonard’s mouth and lapping at every fresh moan that escaped from Leonard’s throat.
“Please,” Leonard whispered when Sheldon finally allowed him breath.
“Turn around,” Sheldon commanded.
Leonard did as he was told, flattening his palms between the boxes. Sheldon followed by curling his uniformed body over him, wrapping an arm around his hips before firmly and deliberately snapping their lower halves together.
“Oh, god,” Leonard gasped. He buried his forehead in the crook of his elbow.
That wouldn’t do. With his free arm, Sheldon brought Leonard’s chin back up in a loose chokehold. Though it wasn’t as pleasant as Leonard’s natural hair, he pressed his ridged cheek carefully against the curls of the wig. “Was I correct in assuming that your beggar’s plea referred to an activity of this nature?”
“God, yes, please--”
“And have you been a good slave girl?” Sheldon lowered the timbre of his voice.
Leonard stilled. Then nodded despite the confined space. “Y-yes, Master.”
At the acknowledgement of his title, Sheldon felt his own arousal begin to stir. “That’s right,” he agreed. Reaching between Leonard’s legs, he squeezed the base of his cock and chuckled as Leonard began to squirm. “You’ve been quite the confident little whore all evening.”
Leonard squirmed harder in Sheldon’s embrace. “I’ve tried,” he said, voice strained.
Sheldon ground himself harder into the cleft of Leonard’s ass, the layers of clothing between them scarcely a deterrent from causing Leonard to cry out with need. Murmuring into Leonard’s ear, Sheldon reassured, “I know. And good girls get rewarded.”
He slowly extracted himself from their bent position. The location was far from ideal, and it was likely that certain areas of Leonard’s makeup would smear despite the protective layer coating the paint. But Leonard was in a fragile place. He needed this. Otherwise he would fixate on and internalize this incident, and Sheldon was hardly going to let all of their progress backslide.
A minute later found Sheldon spreading the unused towel on the counter under Leonard. Craning his neck to look at him, Leonard bit his lip and began to inch lower, completing his descent only once Sheldon nodded his approval. The minimal padding of his chest allowed him to comfortably rest. His hands splayed to frame his head, and he shifted his stance to display his bottom the way he knew Sheldon liked.
Sheldon clapped one of Leonard’s cheeks to demonstrate his appreciation. It didn’t come as much of a surprise when Leonard let out a noise that suggested both arousal and a growing level of frustration. With a widening smirk, Sheldon swung the hanging fabric over Leonard’s hip and tugged his panties down to rest at the middle of his thighs. He took a moment for himself to enjoy the view.
It proved too much for Leonard. “Christ, Sheldon,” he whined. He arched his back, keening for more of something, anything, from his partner. “I am so ready, please…”
“Ready? I hardly think so.” Sheldon reclaimed his place hovering over Leonard. Sliding a hand down his arm, he enclosed Leonard’s fist in his own and drew his arm back. “But you’re going to fix that for me.”
“W-what? How am I going to--oh. Oh.” Leonard gaped when the soapy liquid wrung from a wipe cascaded over his middle fingers.
“One finger at a time. You know the order.”
Leonard nodded. “Right, yeah…”
Leonard teased at his own hole, eagerly slipping in the first finger while Sheldon assisted in squeezing the mounds of his ass apart. Knuckle by knuckle he sank it deep. His breath puffed in concentration. Sheldon didn’t expect him to work in the second digit as soon as he did, but the throaty moan he let loose sounded like music to Sheldon’s ears, prompting him to wet his mouth and lean down low again.
“My little finger slut is so eager.” he said playfully. Leonard whined in agreement. “And what is it exactly she’s so eager to receive?”
“You, Master.” As if to prove it, Leonard groaned when he pressed in the third finger.
Sheldon couldn’t have been more pleased. Despite the attentions Leonard received from others throughout the evening, this desperation, this need, it was all for him. As eager as he was himself, he wanted it to last. He wanted every minute detail imprinted in his memory with perfect clarity. Sheldon pressed his palm to the bend of Leonard’s frantic wrist.
Leonard’s strangled cry was punctuated by the reflexive jutting of his hips. “No, no, no, please, god, I need more, Sheldon, please--”
Sheldon pushed harder, burying Leonard’s fingers as deep as their length allowed and trapping them there. “I’ll thank you to address me with the proper title.” It wasn’t a threat, nor a warning. It was a patient promise.
“S-Sorry, Master,” Leonard panted. He tried again, his voice choked. “I just need you inside me so badly.”
“I know.” Sheldon massaged Leonard’s wrist with a steady rhythm. This time when he reached between Leonard’s legs, he did so from behind. The tips of his fingers whispered along the length of his dick, his palm curling over the tip and massaging there, too. Leonard became nothing short of putty in his hands. “So wet,” Sheldon observed out loud. “You enjoy being like this, hm? I know you enjoyed all the stares aimed in your direction tonight. You enjoyed all the comments, complimentary and incredulous and lewd alike. A good little attention whore.” His hand spread the generous amount of precome. “But most of all, you enjoy being my slave girl, don’t you?”
Leonard’s level of coherence consisted of a steady stream of moans interspersed with the occasional “oh god” and “fuck”.
Sheldon smirked to himself. He own trousers were strained and it was getting harder to hold off.
“I think the descriptor ‘so ready’ can now be accurately applied.”
“Oh my god, yes,” Leonard blurted. His chest heaved against the counter top, the rest of him still squirming with pleasure. “I’ve never been more ready in my whole life, fuck--”
Sheldon’s smirk widened as he reached for the pack of wipes. He cleansed his hand with one and Leonard’s with another, leaving him open and inviting. From a discreet pocket of his tunic, Sheldon drew out a lubricated condom, sheathing himself with it once he made quick work of freeing himself. The tip of his cock found its way to where it wanted to be. Leonard practically sobbed with relief.
“PleasepleasepleaseMasterplease,” he chanted, fisting the towel below him.
“Shh,” Sheldon soothed. He gripped Leonard’s waist and pushed until only the head of his cock was engulfed inside of him. The sheer volume of Leonard’s moan gave him pause despite the pleasure singing through his nervous system. “Need I remind you,” he breathed, “that the door to this room lacks the functionality of locking from the inside?”
Leonard responded by pushing back, impaling himself further. “I couldn’t care less,” he bleated.
Neither could Sheldon. Not when the loud party could very well drown out their noise. Not when he throbbed to feel more of Leonard’s snug heat. Not when Leonard was dying for him. He sank down to the hilt with a low moan of his own, hands skating up Leonard’s sides and holding him as close as he dared.
“You are by far the most attractive specimen in this building.”
Leonard whimpered, tilting his chin up.
“The perfect slave girl.”
Sheldon dragged a thumb over Leonard’s parted lips and felt him shudder.
They began moving together. Despite blatant hints for more, Sheldon set a leisurely pace. He planted soft kisses to the meat between Leonard’s shoulder and neck between deep thrusts, continuing to murmur every praise and endearment he knew would hit Leonard where he needed.
It didn’t take long before Leonard was babbling with incoherency again. His cries echoed in the smaller room, his expression twisted in ecstasy. He pleaded with Sheldon to touch him, to fuck him harder, to let him come, god he’s so close--
And despite Sheldon’s capacity for restraint, he found himself reaching a third time, stroking down the slick length of Leonard’s erection at a far quicker pace. Leonard tensed and came with a shout that turned into a long, broken moan.
“Oh my god… oh my g--oh fuck… holy shhhnngh…”
Sheldon thrust into Leonard a few more times before gasping his own orgasm. He seated himself fully for Leonard to feel every pulse, each one a fresh validation, and for long moments after, their panted breaths and soft, contented moans were the only sounds to fill the room.
When Sheldon finally mustered the willpower to pull away, Leonard whimpered at the loss.
“It’s all right,” Sheldon said softly. “Come here.” He helped Leonard up and around, cupping his chin and pressing their mouths together. When they broke apart, Leonard mumbled, “Can we go home now?”
Sheldon cocked his head. “What about the contest?”
Leonard glanced down at himself and his Master.
“But we’ve already won.”