Fic: The Parade Preoccupation (1/1, NC-17)
Title: The Parade Preoccupation
Author: Meg / juniperlane / betternovembers
Spoilers: Vague S3 mentions.
Rating/Warnings: NC-17
Word Count: 2560
Disclaimer: TBBT does not belong to me, and neither do the other lovely pop culture things I mention in passing.
Notes: IDEK YOU GUYS. This is basically smut disguised as Thanksgiving fic. IDEK. Additionally, I need to stop with these terrible titles.
This takes place in the same universe as The Costume Coincidence. It is not totally necessary to read that first, but it will probably help.
Sheldon hands her a list two days after she decides to go for broke and cook, entitled Essential Items for a Successful Thanksgiving. It has seventeen subcategories. He waits for her reaction, a tiny eager smile on his face, hands clasped behind his back, and he's even rocking back and forth on his heels a bit. She stares at it, looks up at him.
He can't hold it in any longer. "If you check the back of that list, you will also find I have suggested several more products that we might consider purchasing. While they are not required, they would provide additional options for our guests that they might find both nutritious and hopefully edible, depending upon which one of us cooks them."
There's enough stuff between the front and back to feed, well, if not an entire army, then at least a platoon, and so far Penny's only planned for her and the boys. Penny doesn't really want to admit it, but it's just - this is their first official thing as a couple, and she wants it to go well, that's all. Sheldon is unsurprisingly pontificating on the many forms cranberries can take, and probably the real reason for his involvement. (Although, this list is his attempt to show his support, and it is one less thing she has to worry about.) It's not like having a perfect Thanksgiving dinner is going to make or break them as a couple, but there's an extra edge of pressure. Thanksgiving is like this weird grown-up holiday that families have. It hasn't even been a month since Halloween, and they still haven't even officially put a name to whatever this is. It's mostly been makeout sessions on her couch during the credits to Doctor Who, and Penny delicately trying to move them past second base without completely freaking Sheldon out. (It's not that Penny regrets stopping herself from ripping Sheldon's costume off on Halloween and having her way with him, and yeah, it was the right decision, but still. She has needs.)
Penny realizes that she is staring at Sheldon's lips, and he's noticed. Which means the only real option at hand is to manhandle him onto the couch, straddle his lap, and kiss him senseless. He doesn't complain. He never does.
Sheldon isn't like a normal person, and so he doesn't call it grocery shopping, he calls it "going to the market." The last time she was here with him was years ago, when he was rambling about tomatoes and vitamins and she had to physically remove him from the cereal aisle during a monologue on the innumerable benefits of fiber. He checks four carts, testing the wheels of each one. When he's finally found the one he wants, he reaches into his bag and pulls out his list, a clipboard, some weird giant metal clip thing, and assembles it so the list is attached to the handlebar. He digs into his bag again, and pulls out a pen. "We may now proceed," he says, and wow, this is... really Sheldon at his finest.
(They do make it out of the grocery store in about 20 minutes, which she can admit, is ridiculously impressive for the amount of food they bought. So. OK, maybe she'll start going grocery shopping with Sheldon again.)
The alarm starts beeping at 7:30, but she hits snooze about 5 or 6 times before she finally drags herself of bed and to the coffee maker. She doesn't have to get started on the food for awhile, and she had originally intended to wake up early so she could clean a little more, but now that she's awake she's lost any motivation she had left over from the night before. She knows Sheldon is already awake, and planning on coming over for the parade anyway. She digs her phone out from under a pile of clothes on the sofa, and texts Sheldon to come over.
He knocks a few minutes later, softly calling her name through the door. She opens the door, and he's standing there still in his pajamas and robe. He smiles a lot more now, real genuine ones, and she always loves watching his face transform when she comes into his field of vision. He's the one that leans in first for a good morning kiss, thumbs creeping under the seams of her tank-top.
"You taste like toothpaste," she says after they break apart, like it's a surprise. He always does first thing in the morning. Early morning Sheldon is her favorite, hair sticking up in the back and a slight case of stubble. She wants to wake up next to him, hear his voice raspy with sleep.
"Penny, do I need to remind you about the correct methods of proper oral hygiene?" She doesn't really need that lecture again, especially since the last time took forever because every time he said the word oral, she laughed. This time she keeps it together, but only barely.
"No, sweetie, I think my brain is still absorbing that one and putting it into practice." She feels more than hears his huff of exasperation , but he lets it drop. She starts fiddling with the knot he's tied on his robe. It's not even 8:15 yet, so they've got time before the parade and she won't have to start worrying about the turkey for a few more hours at least.
"Hey Sheldon?"
"Yes?"
"I might go lie down until the parade starts, do you-" she pauses, thinks of how to approach it, and decides to just go for it. "Come to bed with me?"
It's ok, because he pretty much misses her point completely. "Do you require more sleep? While my adherence to my sleep schedule would prevent me from falling back asleep, I would be happy to wake you up in time for the parade."
"Just- come on." She takes his hand and leads him around the couch and into her room, then turns back to him as they stand at the side of the bed. "Ditch the robe?" He only makes a bit of a face, but he undoes the knot and that's one layer down. She can work with that. But then he does something she doesn't really expect, he takes his outer pajama top off, so he's standing there in his socks, plaid pj bottoms, and a white t-shirt. She can't help it, but she gets stupidly turned on every time he does something like this. On Halloween, it was the - well, everything, the leather jacket, the way he'd invade her personal space, and she's had to take a couple of cold showers thinking about the way he pressed her against the door that night. But in the past month, it's the moments like this she treasures, when he drops another bit of his guard, and she's being silly, it's just a pajama top, but it's Sheldon and with him, everything means something.
She decides to make her own list (she needs a proper Sheldon title, something like Preferred Qualities for Maximum Compatibility in Interpersonal Relationships: Case Study - Dr. Sheldon Cooper, yeah, that's good) and so far, she's pretty sure that she'd be able to fill the front and back of a piece of paper if she ever decided to write it out. Item one is going to be the way he is kissing her right now, item two is going to be the look he gave her about five seconds ago when everything clicked into place and he figured out exactly what she wanted. Or she might have to put them in her first subcategory: Sheldon's ability to learn and adapt. Subcategory two is definitely going to be Physical characteristics that are ridiculously hot, and hands, oh God, his hands and how she wants them to touch her everywhere.
Bed. She has got to move this to the bed.
As she starts inching them backwards, she wonders what's going on in that brain of his. She knows he would say something if it was every too much, or too fast, but is he nervous or is there a part of his brain that's still running equations, or is she the only thing he can process right now?
She feels the edge of the mattress against her legs. Time for double or nothing. She reaches for the hem of his t-shirt, pulls back from the kiss long enough to murmur, "Off." He nods, reaches down, and as he pulls it over his head, she trails her hands across his chest. He's still stick thin, all ribs and bony hips, but seeing him standing half-naked in her bedroom, obviously hard, and holy shit, he licks his lips and she's pretty sure she has never wanted someone this much in her life.
"Off," he says. Copy cat. It works though, and then her tank top is on the floor next to his t-shirt, and his arm goes around her back and he is helping her onto the bed, then he's in between her legs, and the places where their skin touches is so so warm, his hair is soft beneath her hands, and this is happening, finally happening. There are so many things she needs to do, count the freckles that span his neck and shoulders, figure out the places that will make him moan, wrap her legs around his back when he's inside her, but this is the first, and she has to make it perfect.
Somehow he's taken the lead, and his mouth is marking a line between her breasts to her belly button, his fingers are hooked into her shorts. She hears him breathe in sharply when he discovers she isn't actually wearing underwear. Crap. Did she break his brain? The answer to that question becomes pretty obvious when he starts to pull the shorts in question off, and she helpfully tilts her hips up, and she wonders how she's the first one naked in this situation, but she's not complaining, and oh- certainly not complaining about the way his hands span her thighs, his thumbs sweeping back and forth, and he's just looking at her and she knows she's not going to need much of anything before she comes, because at this rate she's so turned on all he's going to have to do is touch her once and she'll be done.
His right hand starts to move closer, closer, and she groans and closes her eyes, arches her back and waits, and that's how she misses it when he ducks his head, and she feels the hesitant touch of his finger against her, and she begs for more, it's ok Sheldon, please, and then his mouth fits itself against her clit and all rational thought leaves her, she just tries to feel everything, the way his finger slides into her and how his tongue becomes more confident the louder she gets, never in a million years would she have expected this from him today or maybe ever and he's figured out to add another finger, there, there, and he's got his other hand holding her hips steady so he can keep going as she shakes into a million pieces, and when it's over and he slowly withdraws his fingers, he kisses her thigh, her hipbone, right above her belly button.
She feels boneless, perfect, amazed.
"Hey. Come up here." She pulls him up and into a kiss, her hands on his arms, feeling the way the muscles clench as he holds himself above her. "You're not going to crush me, Sheldon, it's ok. Come here." He melts against her, and he cranes his head in to softly kiss at her neck. "So, do I want to know how you were so good at that?"
He hmmms, and says, "Penny, when you understand basic anatomy-"
"OK, ok, I get it. Genius guy. Good at everything."
"Not everything. But I do take pleasure in excelling at activities I wish to pursue on a regular basis."
Oh. Sheldon-speak in the bedroom can be a turn on. "I have another question."
"I shall do my best to answer you."
"Why are you still wearing pants?" And this, this she can do: roll them over and smile down at his surprised expression, she can take the lead back and reach between them, trace the outline of his cock through his pajamas, nip at his collarbone and watch the way his hands turn into fists and clutch at her sheets. It's easy enough to get the rest of his clothes off, and then pull one of his moves and just look at him for a minute, and god, he is gorgeous in his own way, and it's made all the more special by the fact that it's her and it's Sheldon and she knows she's the only one who's ever seen him like this, that she's the one who gets him to make that long shuddering moan when she wraps her hand around the base of his cock and takes the rest of him in her mouth.
It's not long before Sheldon says, "Penny, I- I want-" and she knows. She bought condoms the day after Halloween, and they've been sitting in her dresser ever since. He watches her as she digs one out of the box and opens the packet, he's flushed and panting, the pillows and sheets are a riot of color around him, and she's pretty sure she's going to have this mental image in her brain for the rest of her life, once she gets the condom on him and lowers herself down, and she watches the way his eyes close almost against his will, how his mouth opens and those freckles she loves on his neck move over the bobbing of his Adam's apple, the feel of him inside her and the first time he moves his hips, his hands and how they suddenly seem to be everywhere.
He figures it out pretty quickly. She knew he would. She rides him until she sees he's close, the way his hands suddenly still on her arms and grip at her wrists. She stops moving. Says his name, and his eyes open. "Watch," she says, and he does, he watches as he slides into her, again, again, again. His eyelids start to flutter closed, and she takes pity on him and leans down to kiss him as he breaks apart beneath her.
They manage to make it to the living room just in time for the parade, Penny wrapped in his robe and she's pretty sure his t-shirt is on inside out. They arrange themselves on the couch, and she snags the blanket and drapes it over them. In a few minutes she'll make herself a new cup of coffee and put the kettle on for Sheldon, but for right now, all she wants is to sit and watch celebrities lip-sync to holiday music and balloons flying through the streets of New York City. Maybe she can get Sheldon to explain the physics of those balloons to her in layman's terms.
She looks up at him, and he's already fascinated by the first float. She kisses him on his jaw, presses her lips against stubble and warm skin. He immediately turns his attention to her, a faint smile on his face.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Sheldon."
"Indeed," he says, and kisses her again.
Of course I missed my goal of actually posting on Thanksgiving by about 5 hours, but it's the thought that counts, right? (I am so the only one still awake right now.)
Author: Meg / juniperlane / betternovembers
Spoilers: Vague S3 mentions.
Rating/Warnings: NC-17
Word Count: 2560
Disclaimer: TBBT does not belong to me, and neither do the other lovely pop culture things I mention in passing.
Notes: IDEK YOU GUYS. This is basically smut disguised as Thanksgiving fic. IDEK. Additionally, I need to stop with these terrible titles.
This takes place in the same universe as The Costume Coincidence. It is not totally necessary to read that first, but it will probably help.
Sheldon hands her a list two days after she decides to go for broke and cook, entitled Essential Items for a Successful Thanksgiving. It has seventeen subcategories. He waits for her reaction, a tiny eager smile on his face, hands clasped behind his back, and he's even rocking back and forth on his heels a bit. She stares at it, looks up at him.
He can't hold it in any longer. "If you check the back of that list, you will also find I have suggested several more products that we might consider purchasing. While they are not required, they would provide additional options for our guests that they might find both nutritious and hopefully edible, depending upon which one of us cooks them."
There's enough stuff between the front and back to feed, well, if not an entire army, then at least a platoon, and so far Penny's only planned for her and the boys. Penny doesn't really want to admit it, but it's just - this is their first official thing as a couple, and she wants it to go well, that's all. Sheldon is unsurprisingly pontificating on the many forms cranberries can take, and probably the real reason for his involvement. (Although, this list is his attempt to show his support, and it is one less thing she has to worry about.) It's not like having a perfect Thanksgiving dinner is going to make or break them as a couple, but there's an extra edge of pressure. Thanksgiving is like this weird grown-up holiday that families have. It hasn't even been a month since Halloween, and they still haven't even officially put a name to whatever this is. It's mostly been makeout sessions on her couch during the credits to Doctor Who, and Penny delicately trying to move them past second base without completely freaking Sheldon out. (It's not that Penny regrets stopping herself from ripping Sheldon's costume off on Halloween and having her way with him, and yeah, it was the right decision, but still. She has needs.)
Penny realizes that she is staring at Sheldon's lips, and he's noticed. Which means the only real option at hand is to manhandle him onto the couch, straddle his lap, and kiss him senseless. He doesn't complain. He never does.
Sheldon isn't like a normal person, and so he doesn't call it grocery shopping, he calls it "going to the market." The last time she was here with him was years ago, when he was rambling about tomatoes and vitamins and she had to physically remove him from the cereal aisle during a monologue on the innumerable benefits of fiber. He checks four carts, testing the wheels of each one. When he's finally found the one he wants, he reaches into his bag and pulls out his list, a clipboard, some weird giant metal clip thing, and assembles it so the list is attached to the handlebar. He digs into his bag again, and pulls out a pen. "We may now proceed," he says, and wow, this is... really Sheldon at his finest.
(They do make it out of the grocery store in about 20 minutes, which she can admit, is ridiculously impressive for the amount of food they bought. So. OK, maybe she'll start going grocery shopping with Sheldon again.)
The alarm starts beeping at 7:30, but she hits snooze about 5 or 6 times before she finally drags herself of bed and to the coffee maker. She doesn't have to get started on the food for awhile, and she had originally intended to wake up early so she could clean a little more, but now that she's awake she's lost any motivation she had left over from the night before. She knows Sheldon is already awake, and planning on coming over for the parade anyway. She digs her phone out from under a pile of clothes on the sofa, and texts Sheldon to come over.
He knocks a few minutes later, softly calling her name through the door. She opens the door, and he's standing there still in his pajamas and robe. He smiles a lot more now, real genuine ones, and she always loves watching his face transform when she comes into his field of vision. He's the one that leans in first for a good morning kiss, thumbs creeping under the seams of her tank-top.
"You taste like toothpaste," she says after they break apart, like it's a surprise. He always does first thing in the morning. Early morning Sheldon is her favorite, hair sticking up in the back and a slight case of stubble. She wants to wake up next to him, hear his voice raspy with sleep.
"Penny, do I need to remind you about the correct methods of proper oral hygiene?" She doesn't really need that lecture again, especially since the last time took forever because every time he said the word oral, she laughed. This time she keeps it together, but only barely.
"No, sweetie, I think my brain is still absorbing that one and putting it into practice." She feels more than hears his huff of exasperation , but he lets it drop. She starts fiddling with the knot he's tied on his robe. It's not even 8:15 yet, so they've got time before the parade and she won't have to start worrying about the turkey for a few more hours at least.
"Hey Sheldon?"
"Yes?"
"I might go lie down until the parade starts, do you-" she pauses, thinks of how to approach it, and decides to just go for it. "Come to bed with me?"
It's ok, because he pretty much misses her point completely. "Do you require more sleep? While my adherence to my sleep schedule would prevent me from falling back asleep, I would be happy to wake you up in time for the parade."
"Just- come on." She takes his hand and leads him around the couch and into her room, then turns back to him as they stand at the side of the bed. "Ditch the robe?" He only makes a bit of a face, but he undoes the knot and that's one layer down. She can work with that. But then he does something she doesn't really expect, he takes his outer pajama top off, so he's standing there in his socks, plaid pj bottoms, and a white t-shirt. She can't help it, but she gets stupidly turned on every time he does something like this. On Halloween, it was the - well, everything, the leather jacket, the way he'd invade her personal space, and she's had to take a couple of cold showers thinking about the way he pressed her against the door that night. But in the past month, it's the moments like this she treasures, when he drops another bit of his guard, and she's being silly, it's just a pajama top, but it's Sheldon and with him, everything means something.
She decides to make her own list (she needs a proper Sheldon title, something like Preferred Qualities for Maximum Compatibility in Interpersonal Relationships: Case Study - Dr. Sheldon Cooper, yeah, that's good) and so far, she's pretty sure that she'd be able to fill the front and back of a piece of paper if she ever decided to write it out. Item one is going to be the way he is kissing her right now, item two is going to be the look he gave her about five seconds ago when everything clicked into place and he figured out exactly what she wanted. Or she might have to put them in her first subcategory: Sheldon's ability to learn and adapt. Subcategory two is definitely going to be Physical characteristics that are ridiculously hot, and hands, oh God, his hands and how she wants them to touch her everywhere.
Bed. She has got to move this to the bed.
As she starts inching them backwards, she wonders what's going on in that brain of his. She knows he would say something if it was every too much, or too fast, but is he nervous or is there a part of his brain that's still running equations, or is she the only thing he can process right now?
She feels the edge of the mattress against her legs. Time for double or nothing. She reaches for the hem of his t-shirt, pulls back from the kiss long enough to murmur, "Off." He nods, reaches down, and as he pulls it over his head, she trails her hands across his chest. He's still stick thin, all ribs and bony hips, but seeing him standing half-naked in her bedroom, obviously hard, and holy shit, he licks his lips and she's pretty sure she has never wanted someone this much in her life.
"Off," he says. Copy cat. It works though, and then her tank top is on the floor next to his t-shirt, and his arm goes around her back and he is helping her onto the bed, then he's in between her legs, and the places where their skin touches is so so warm, his hair is soft beneath her hands, and this is happening, finally happening. There are so many things she needs to do, count the freckles that span his neck and shoulders, figure out the places that will make him moan, wrap her legs around his back when he's inside her, but this is the first, and she has to make it perfect.
Somehow he's taken the lead, and his mouth is marking a line between her breasts to her belly button, his fingers are hooked into her shorts. She hears him breathe in sharply when he discovers she isn't actually wearing underwear. Crap. Did she break his brain? The answer to that question becomes pretty obvious when he starts to pull the shorts in question off, and she helpfully tilts her hips up, and she wonders how she's the first one naked in this situation, but she's not complaining, and oh- certainly not complaining about the way his hands span her thighs, his thumbs sweeping back and forth, and he's just looking at her and she knows she's not going to need much of anything before she comes, because at this rate she's so turned on all he's going to have to do is touch her once and she'll be done.
His right hand starts to move closer, closer, and she groans and closes her eyes, arches her back and waits, and that's how she misses it when he ducks his head, and she feels the hesitant touch of his finger against her, and she begs for more, it's ok Sheldon, please, and then his mouth fits itself against her clit and all rational thought leaves her, she just tries to feel everything, the way his finger slides into her and how his tongue becomes more confident the louder she gets, never in a million years would she have expected this from him today or maybe ever and he's figured out to add another finger, there, there, and he's got his other hand holding her hips steady so he can keep going as she shakes into a million pieces, and when it's over and he slowly withdraws his fingers, he kisses her thigh, her hipbone, right above her belly button.
She feels boneless, perfect, amazed.
"Hey. Come up here." She pulls him up and into a kiss, her hands on his arms, feeling the way the muscles clench as he holds himself above her. "You're not going to crush me, Sheldon, it's ok. Come here." He melts against her, and he cranes his head in to softly kiss at her neck. "So, do I want to know how you were so good at that?"
He hmmms, and says, "Penny, when you understand basic anatomy-"
"OK, ok, I get it. Genius guy. Good at everything."
"Not everything. But I do take pleasure in excelling at activities I wish to pursue on a regular basis."
Oh. Sheldon-speak in the bedroom can be a turn on. "I have another question."
"I shall do my best to answer you."
"Why are you still wearing pants?" And this, this she can do: roll them over and smile down at his surprised expression, she can take the lead back and reach between them, trace the outline of his cock through his pajamas, nip at his collarbone and watch the way his hands turn into fists and clutch at her sheets. It's easy enough to get the rest of his clothes off, and then pull one of his moves and just look at him for a minute, and god, he is gorgeous in his own way, and it's made all the more special by the fact that it's her and it's Sheldon and she knows she's the only one who's ever seen him like this, that she's the one who gets him to make that long shuddering moan when she wraps her hand around the base of his cock and takes the rest of him in her mouth.
It's not long before Sheldon says, "Penny, I- I want-" and she knows. She bought condoms the day after Halloween, and they've been sitting in her dresser ever since. He watches her as she digs one out of the box and opens the packet, he's flushed and panting, the pillows and sheets are a riot of color around him, and she's pretty sure she's going to have this mental image in her brain for the rest of her life, once she gets the condom on him and lowers herself down, and she watches the way his eyes close almost against his will, how his mouth opens and those freckles she loves on his neck move over the bobbing of his Adam's apple, the feel of him inside her and the first time he moves his hips, his hands and how they suddenly seem to be everywhere.
He figures it out pretty quickly. She knew he would. She rides him until she sees he's close, the way his hands suddenly still on her arms and grip at her wrists. She stops moving. Says his name, and his eyes open. "Watch," she says, and he does, he watches as he slides into her, again, again, again. His eyelids start to flutter closed, and she takes pity on him and leans down to kiss him as he breaks apart beneath her.
They manage to make it to the living room just in time for the parade, Penny wrapped in his robe and she's pretty sure his t-shirt is on inside out. They arrange themselves on the couch, and she snags the blanket and drapes it over them. In a few minutes she'll make herself a new cup of coffee and put the kettle on for Sheldon, but for right now, all she wants is to sit and watch celebrities lip-sync to holiday music and balloons flying through the streets of New York City. Maybe she can get Sheldon to explain the physics of those balloons to her in layman's terms.
She looks up at him, and he's already fascinated by the first float. She kisses him on his jaw, presses her lips against stubble and warm skin. He immediately turns his attention to her, a faint smile on his face.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Sheldon."
"Indeed," he says, and kisses her again.
Of course I missed my goal of actually posting on Thanksgiving by about 5 hours, but it's the thought that counts, right? (I am so the only one still awake right now.)