Even now their relationship is not without its arguments. This time it’s a scuffle over the position of the tea in the cupboard, which Leonard thinks is ridiculous from the outset, and Sheldon thinks is a potentially world-altering crisis. Apparently. It’s a difference of one shelf. One shelf. And it was an accident. He just hadn’t reached up to put the box back in its proper place, which he’s sure has attained proper noun status in Sheldon’s mind. The Tea’s Proper Place.
Right now the tea is being shaken under his nose, which is not The Tea’s Proper Place. He half expects Sheldon to rub his nose in it like a naughty puppy.
“I’m sorry.” He wrests the box from Sheldon’s grasp, goes up on his toes, and slots it into its Proper Place. Argument over, right?
Five minutes later they’re seated at their respective computers and he can feel Sheldon staring at him. Leonard slides his eyes to the right. At the moment it’s just a stare, not a Stare, or a puppy-dog look (which Sheldon is actually quite bad at). Sheldon’s hands are still on the keyboard, although his typing has slowed perceptibly from his usual rate of 110 words per minute. Leonard can tell this by listening to the speed of keyclatter.
Leonard counts off a minute in Mississippis in his head and then glances over again. It’s escalated to a Stare, and Sheldon’s hands are twitching.
Tea should not be this much of an issue.
He’s trying to play what feels like the millionth level of Candy Crush Saga, so it’s not as if he’s got anything terribly pressing calling for his attention. Therefore, when his peripheral vision informs him that Sheldon’s hands have gone up to his temples, he swivels in his chair to face his roommate-slash-boyfriend-slash-Jedi Master, making his face as expressionless as possible.
“What can I do for you?”
Sheldon looks a little taken aback at the response. “I...” He clears his throat. “I demand restitution for your oversight.”
Leonard scoots his chair closer and licks his lips slowly. “And what form should that restitution take, exactly?”
Sheldon lowers his hands slowly from his temples. Leonard doesn’t move at all. “The kitchen needs cleaning.”
“I can hear what you’re saying... but I can also hear what you’re not saying.” Leonard puts his hands on Sheldon’s knees and Sheldon does not recoil. “There’s something more than cleaning the kitchen that you want from me.” He watches Sheldon’s Adam’s apple bob in his thin throat and slides his hands up Sheldon’s thighs. “Isn’t there?”
Sheldon’s eyes close and he nods jerkily. Leonard slips from his seat, down to his knees on the floor, and traces the line of Sheldon’s cock through the soft fabric of his pants. He hears a cut-off gasp from above and smirks, hiding it from Sheldon by looking quite intently at Sheldon’s lap. Not that he wasn’t looking there already. His hands busy themselves with Sheldon’s belt and button and zipper.
Once he’s settled with his mouth and hands where both he and Sheldon want them to be, the thought occurs that this feels a little different. Not physically - this isn’t exactly the first time he’s dragged Sheldon’s attention away from his work at this very computer - but mentally. It feels like an offering, instead of just - just - whatever it usually is.
He works Sheldon with his lips and tongue and hands, drawing delightful noises out of him that bear no resemblance to the speech of a Jedi Master except for perhaps the garbled English. The one time that he manages to look up, Sheldon has his head thrown back and a death grip on the arms of his chair, as if Leonard needs any more proof that he’s pleasing his partner. The choked moaning and the way Sheldon’s hips keep moving are more than enough confirmation on their own.
This would usually be the point where Leonard pulls back, or Sheldon pulls him back, and Sheldon reaches for a tissue. This time Leonard lets Sheldon know with the tightening of his hand on Sheldon’s thigh that he has no intention of going anywhere. Sheldon lets out an abruptly cut off gasp and spills over into Leonard’s willing mouth, making noises that might be Leonard’s name or a mangled “I love you”. Knowing the speed of Sheldon’s mind, it’s probably both at once.
Leonard runs his tongue softly up and down the sides of Sheldon’s cock, cleaning him off, but stays on his knees even when he’s done, sitting back on his heels and looking up at Sheldon. Sheldon looks thoroughly flustered and flushed and rather decadent, splayed out in his chair, pants open.
Finally Sheldon gathers his composure and touches Leonard on the shoulder, and Leonard gets to his feet as if that was the signal he didn’t know he was waiting for. Sheldon pulls his clothing back together with shaky hands and Leonard hides a smile by feigning a cough.
“That was... you were...”
“That was what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Leonard enquires.
“It may have been,” Sheldon admits.
Leonard doesn’t hide his smile this time. “You’re welcome.”
Sheldon takes his hand and kisses the back of it. “I think...”
“I may need another cup of tea. Do we have any of the pomegranate blend left?”