Chapter Text
Sheldon expects that after this, he will need to start the process of finding a new roommate. He will have to give up most if not all of their group. He will need to give up Leonard. He’ll have to somehow not lose himself in the process.
After all Leonard has given Sheldon, the least Sheldon can do is give him the truth.
…
“I’d like to talk to you about our relationship, when you can.”
“Okay,” Leonard nods as he closes the fridge. He takes a drink of water and shrugs. It’s been a long time coming, honestly. Their roommate agreement was outdated months ago, even before all of the added complications of their-Leonard licks his lips-activities. “We can talk in a few minutes,” He doubts anything really has to change, unless they want to add addendums for their newfound romantic relationship, if they wish to define it as one. He thinks over it as he drinks his water. Is there anything he wants to add to the agreement? When Sheldon and Amy made one, she was able to sneak in dates and kisses. Does he want that too? He doesn’t want to force Sheldon into anything. He’d rather everything come naturally.
Sheldon sits in his spot and Leonard sits in his chair.
“I don’t love you.”
He heard me.
Leonard’s heart shatters on the ground. He almost hears it break into the million tiny pieces he will cut his fingers on as he tries to reassemble it. He will turn bloody hands to finger paintings to paint a picture of Sheldon he will always admire and never obtain. Just like all the others, but so much worse. He doesn’t want to hear anymore. He wants to take his stiff legs and run a marathon away. He wants to take his breathless lungs and scream. He doesn’t want to know, but he has to. How can a man who looked at him like he was the only important thing in the world, the most fascinating, not love him?
“Why?”
“There are numerous reasons.”
Leonard’s knees shake and he regrets everything in that instant. Every touch and every thought, every rope mark and orgasm, he regrets meeting Sheldon. He thought he was selfless. He thought this was love.
“From what I gather, love is supposed to make your heart speed up, and you are supposed to get nervous, or apparently warm, around the object of your affection.” The blood roaring in Leonard’s ears is deafening, but he forces himself to listen to every word; the thud of every nail in the coffin. “But I don’t feel that way about you. You make me comfortable in a way I have never been before. If I did not already have my spot, I believe you would have become my single point of consistency.” Leonard blinks. A tear rolls down his face. He twists his head.
“Are you saying I would be your spot?” How could he not love him, if he was his spot?
“In a manner of speaking.” Sheldon pauses. “Additionally, love is supposed to be selfless. I am not selfless. I don’t want the best job for you, or the best spouse for you, or even the best house for you, because all of that would take you away from here, from me.”
Leonard can’t believe this. He watches a single tear move down Sheldon’s face.
Then another.
“If I love you, I’m supposed to give you up when the next best thing for you comes along,” Sheldon’s voice waivers, but he steels on, “but I won’t be able to do that. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want the best for you.”
Sheldon loves him. Leonard gasps at the revelation. At the gasps, Sheldon rushes through his next words aching to rip the Band-Aid off and get this over with. He is both terrified and anxious for this to be over, leaving him sitting in the numbness that comes next.
“Seeing you isn’t always the best thing about my day, and I don’t miss you when I’m not with you. You are the most consistent part of my day. I don’t care if my family approves of you, because I don’t care about their opinion. I don’t celebrate your success when I fail. I don’t accept you for who you are without complaint. You don’t make me accept myself without compliant.”
Leonard feels his own heart thump powerfully in his chest. What teen website is Sheldon reading? Sheldon thinks he doesn’t love him, but all of his words prove he does. This is the most heartfelt confession Leonard could imagine, and it’s so Sheldon: dismissing emotion in a way that proves Sheldon isn’t as immune to it as he wants to be.
“Sheldon, that’s enough.” Leonard says, standing, and Sheldon closes his mouth and looks away. “Do you enjoy being with me?”
“Yes, I’d have hardly lived with you so long if I hadn’t.”
“Do you want me all for yourself?”
“I won’t share.” And Sheldon’s tone is so clipped, so jealous of any potential other that Leonard smiles. He sits on the table in front of Sheldon.
“Would you like to keep going the way we are?”
“I would.”
“Then I think we should end the roommate agreement.”
Sheldon knew it. Leonard reaches for Sheldon’s hand, and he lets him take it.
“I think it should be replaced with a relationship agreement.”
“What?”
“I’m in love with you, and I think you’re in love with me too.”
“Were you not listening-”
“I was.” Leonard interrupts, voice thick. “I was listening to every word.”
Leonard leans forward, getting closer to Sheldon’s personal space than he has in a while, as he wipes away the tear on his face. Sheldon locks eyes with Leonard and Leonard grabs Sheldon’s forearms lightly as leans over the space between them. He doesn’t have to ask Sheldon for a kiss, and Sheldon meets him halfway with closed eyes and an open heart.
It’s all Leonard has ever wanted.