Living with Sheldon Cooper was not for the weak.

That was the first thing you learned when you moved across the hall from the aforementioned man. The second thing was, wow, his roommate was hot. And it wasn’t just sidewalk crush hot, but holy-shit-you-wanted-to-have-his-babies hot.

After you moved in, it took a few days for him to knock on your door, but he eventually did. It was an awkward introduction, with a lot of stuttering (on his part), and a lot of zoning out, thinking thoughts one shouldn’t really be thinking about a man they just met (on your part).

You invited him in for a drink, he agreed, life continued on, and two years later, everybody but the two of you could see that you and Leonard were in a will-they-won’t-they situation. You weren’t romantic or platonic, but a secret third thing where you were yearning for each other like the moon and the tides, but neither of you knew about the other’s identical feelings.

Everything was great - albeit a little awkward - until one night, when he was over at your place due to Sheldon’s inability to shut up, the both of you drank a little too much and ended up rocking the headboard.

Leonard woke up with you in his arms and a mild headache. It took him a groggy look around the room and then a terrified glance under the covers to reveal two naked bodies to realise that:

1. he was in your bedroom, in your apartment across the hall.

2. you had hooked up.

When you mumbled groggily and writhed a little before settling down again, the dread set in. Would you remember what had happened? Would you regret it? How would you react? Oh no, now you were waking up-

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he mumbled gently, one hand on your lower abdomen and the other one stroking your hair gently. Jesus, even with drool on your chin and messy bedhead, he thought he loved you.