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The limits of tolerance

Summary:

When Sheldon returns home from work he finds his best friend Leonard curled up on the sofa, occupying his spot. As Leonard seems to be feeling under the weather, Sheldon decides to find out what's bothering him and take proper care of him. After all, Sheldon is better than all doctors on planet Earth - Sheldon is the best doctor.

Notes:

Minor fart occurrences take place in this fanfiction. Just skim if you're uncomfortable. However, I didn't describe them in detail, so it should be fine.

Work Text:

„God, Leonard, you stink!“ Sheldon exclaimed, as he came home from work and entered their shared apartment. He waved his hand in front of his nose. “At least be so courteous and open a window!”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Leonard muttered miserably. He laid curled up on the sofa, occupying Sheldon’s spot, which troubled Sheldon a lot. However, he decided to say nothing, as Leonard had his arms folded around his abdomen. Thus, something clearly had to be wrong.

Sheldon approached him and took a seat in the cushioned chair next to him. He frowned. “What’s the matter with you?”

Leonard sat up and shrugged, his arms still lingering loosely over his abdomen. “I don’t know, my stomach hurts.”

Sheldon asked, concerned for his best friend’s wellbeing. “Oh no, when did this start? You seemed fine this morning.”

Leonard tilted his head. “I don’t know, it started after lunch, I think.”

“Hm, I recall you having hamburgers. Two, I think?”

“That’s right,” Leonard affirmed. “Oh, and I had a brownie for dessert afterwards.”

Sheldon pondered. “Well, that shouldn’t be the problem then. I know for a fact that you are quite a big eater and can pack away quite a lot if you set your mind on it. Two hamburgers shouldn’t have you writhing in pain.”

“True, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m feeling like crap,” Leonard stated and laid back down with a groan, gripping his stomach.

Sheldon frowned and decided it was time to proceed in his interrogation and move on to pain assessment. “What’s the pain like on a scale one to ten?”

“Ugh, definitely a solid eight.”

His friend’s answer had Sheldon immediately more worried. Even though he knew that statistically every hurt person rates their pain as eight, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something seriously wrong with Leonard. He had never seen him in so much distress in all those years he’d known him. Also, he had never farted quite that much before. It stunk, which bothered Sheldon hugely, but he couldn’t say something. Not when his friend was suffering so much. Sheldon felt in his core that he had to do something to help Leonard.

“Okay, Leonard, I need you to take off your t-shirt,” Sheldon commanded, swallowing thickly. He really didn’t want to do what he was about to do, but he felt that he had to, for he didn’t trust doctors with his best friend’s life. Doctors are human, and human errors are way too common – unless your name was Sheldon Cooper, for he never was wrong.

Leonard looked up at him, puzzled. He’d already wriggled one of his arms out of a sleeve. “Okay, but why?”

“I am going to examine your abdomen,” Sheldon replied matter-of-factly. On the inside, he was quite nervous, for he had no experience in this field of anatomy but wanted to appear competent nevertheless.

Leonard raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You, Sheldon Cooper, are going to touch my stomach? What’s happening here? Am I dying?”

Sheldon nodded and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m going to touch your stomach, if you let me. I want to find out what’s wrong with you.”

“Okay then, you can have me any way you want,” Leonard joked, his lips curling into a smile. He proceeded to take off his shirt. Then he laid back down on his back and straightened out.

Sheldon got up from his chair and kneeled down next to the sofa. Then he tentatively placed a hand on Leonard’s bare abdomen, right above his navel.

Leonard shrieked and pushed his hands off. “Sheldon, your hands are cold.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sheldon blew on them softly, then rubbed them together. He placed them back onto his friend’s stomach. “Better now?”

Leonard sighed contentedly. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t enjoy this too much. My hands are just here to examine your abdomen, for doctors always manage to miss some things.”

Leonard laughed at that. “You mean to say you’re better than the doctors who have studied their stuff for more than ten years?”

Sheldon nodded and said nothing more. He let his gaze and hands wander over his friend’s abdomen. The skin was flushed and taut, almost no give.

“I think your abdomen’s holding too much pressure. Also, you are quite bloated,” Sheldon concluded. He slid his palms to his gastric region, and felt as the organ groaned, gurgled and constricted. Leonard gasped in pain.

“Cramps?” Sheldon asked, worried.

Leonard nodded and pouted. “Yes, my tummy hurts really bad. Please rub it better!”

“I have never given someone a belly rub, but I have received some from Meemaw when I was a child. I should know how to do this.” Sheldon let his hands roam over Leonard’s stomach in what he hoped was a soothing manner. He applied a bit of pressure and tried to resolve the cramps. He moved his palms in circular motions and pushed in here and there. His amateurish abdominal massage indeed seemed to be doing something for his friend, as he let rip a fart. A horrid stench filled Sheldon’s nose.

Sheldon waved both hands in front of his nose, willing the smell to go away. “Leonard!”

Leonard threw his hands in the air helplessly. “I can’t help it, Sheldon, and you know that.”

Sheldon sighed. “I know, you’re right. I’m sorry. However, please try to keep those farts at a tolerable minimum.”

Leonard rolled his eyes, then grimaced, as he seemingly was hit by another vicious cramp. He hugged his belly and panted. “And what is that tolerable minimum for you, Sheldon?”

“Healthy people fart five to twenty-five times a day,” Sheldon declared. “However, since you’re heavily bloated and plagued by intestinal winds, I’m inclined to raise the minimum up to fifty.”

“How generous of you, Sheldon,” Leonard replied, his voice lacking his usual sarcasm. Sheldon noticed that his friend still wasn’t feeling too well.

“You’re still hurting, huh?” He asked, frowning at him.

“Yes, I can’t remember when I felt this bad the last time.”

“You ate a brownie, right? Maybe you did ingest a bit milk,” Sheldon guessed.

“Could be, but it doesn’t matter much right now.”

“I take it that I’ll have to resume that belly massage then,” Sheldon proposed and hovered with his hands above his friend’s distended abdomen.

Leonard nodded weekly, whereupon Sheldon pressed his hands into his belly and rubbed deep circles – and helped Leonard fart. Fart after fart came shooting out of his anus. Sheldon felt queasy, but he breathed through it and concentrated on making his feel friend feel better. As long as those farts remained rather silent and not too stinky.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling bad, Leonard,” Sheldon muttered, stroking his belly gently along the colon.

Leonard sighed. “Thank you, Sheldon, means much.”

Sheldon was so consumed in his massage that he didn’t notice how much his palms had sunken into Leonard’s lower belly and how much pressure he was applying. He seemed to hit a special spot, as Leonard let loose the loudest and skankiest fart Sheldon had ever heard and smelled.

“Leonard, you’ve been testing my limits of tolerance for the past twenty minutes, and I have inhaled way too much methane gas already. I’ve got to go for a walk and breathe fresh air for once.” With that Sheldon stood up and put on his windbreaker, leaving Leonard and his probably still aching abdomen to themselves. However, before he locked the door, he peeked into the living room again, taking note of Leonard’s cramping body on the sofa. “I do hope you feel better soon.”