The Happy Place In My Heart

Egon Spengler was deeply asleep. There was a pizza keeping warm in the oven for when he awoke, and a slightly mashed bar of chocolate brought at the airport sitting on his night stand ready to be eaten. The private Nurse Peter had called in had decided the physicist needed rest more than he needed food, or Dr.Venkman would have stuffed the two items into his overly skinny friend by now.

But he took the lady's advice and dosing the injured and resisting man with painkillers the two of them had manhandled him into bed. Egon's blond head had barely hit the pillow before he was snoring away, wandering the paths of sleepy bye bye land.

That had been several hours ago and Peter still sat besides his friend's bed, elbows on knees, hands covering his eyes. Every now and then he slid his hands down to cup his cheeks and gave the sleeping man a thoughtful look. Then he slipped his hands back over his eyes and contemplated the patterns on the inside of his eyelids.

Earlier Peter had called the nurse in to help change Egon's grubby and loosened bandages. He hadn't wanted to mess with them himself, and besides Egon had felt a little warm to him and he wanted him checked on.

Predictably Egon had reacted to the news of the nurses' coming with embarrassment. Pressed he had admitted to only managing the occasional 'cat bath' while the other Ghostbusters had been away. The scientist was distraught at the thought of subjecting the coming nurse to what he imagined was an unbearable build up of bodily odors.

This was almost Peters undoing. Jeez, as if Egon had had any choice in the matter. Leaning in he had made a show of inhaling deeply before declaring Egon's aroma was fine. And to Peter it was. His friend smelt like Egon, only more so. He smelt like chemistry and burnt electrical wiring, after-shave and home. Peter liked Egon's scent.

Narrowing his eyes Peter had called Egon a neatness freak before pulling him into the bathroom and running a shallow bath. The tattered bandages where about to come off anyway, so Peter didn't bother keeping them dry with plastic bags, he just stripped the man to his jock and helped him in. A splash of apple scented bubble-bath was added to help the scientist feel less exposed and Peter started to gently scrub.

With no clothes on the bruising and scrapes on Egon's body had stood out in an appalling way, making Peters movements slow and considered. He winced in sympathy when Egon tried to turn in the tight confines of the tub and knocked his elbow on the enameled wall. He hit the side with the broken collarbone and Peter had grabbed him instinctively in a hug, rubbing at the taller man's shoulder as if he could take the pain away, while Egon took a deep but shaky steadying breath.

That's when it happened, he supposed. Not with a thunderbolt, but with the gentle tickle of bubbles on his skin like whispered kisses. Semi-kneeling by the tub, arms full of slippery physicist, shirt wet, cold and clinging, a half-forgotten emotion stole over Peter's heart. He didn't try and name it, the sudden feeling of mingled protectiveness, tenderness, longing...it had swept him up and pulled him under at the same time, leaving no room for idle thoughts.

When he was sure the pain from the knock was past he gently let Egon go. Egon grimaced and smiled weakly, to which Peter had no response but the standard one of a swift noogie. Acting nonchalant he'd then poured a beaker of water over Egon's head and given his hair a wash, hoping the other man wouldn't notice that his hands were shaking.

The nurse would be there soon, so he only gave Egon's head a quick dousing, Mario would be by early tomorrow to fix the physicist's unusual style, it had already been arranged. He had wrapped Egon up in a large fluffy towel and been drying his hair with a second one when the nurse had arrived.

A practical woman with ginger hair shot with gray, she wore no make up, no jewelry, no 'Hi I'm Nurse Betty!' button, although it turned out that Betty was her name. She wore flat shoes and was carrying an enormous first-aid kit on one hip. She briskly and efficiently changed Egon's bandages for him then gave the man a checkup. Nodding grimly she had stood over him while he took his medicine then manhandled him into bed. She had then spent ten minutes reading Peter the riot act while the exhausted physicist slept.

Looking suitably chastened Peter had seen her to the door, arriving just in time to greet the pizza delivery girl. The nurse had told him firmly not to wake her patient up, to let him sleep until he was ready to wake naturally, then he could feed him all the pizza he could want. The Ghostbuster had thanked her sincerely, paid off the pizza girl, put the melted-cheese-topped delicacy in the oven to stay warm, and decided to pass the vibe on while the nurse's words were still ringing in his ears.

Phoning the secretarial pool from which they had hired their temp, Doctor Venkman devotedly served up the nurse's speech to the manager. He let her know just why they, and their influential friends (he may have mentioned the Mayor once or twice) were not going to employ her company to provide their secretarial needs again. He hung up to the satisfying assurance that heads, or rather one head in particular, would roll.

Satisfied with his tasks so far Peter had then taken up his post by Egon's bed. Dragging a chair from the kitchen he sat and waited. Something had changed.

Peter moved his hands and looked at Egon again. Yep, still had that too long, horsy face. A funny looking face. Well...actually...no. Peter didn't really think it was a funny looking face, or a horsy looking one either. He'd heard other people say it, and it was a fairly descriptive label, but...no. To him Egon's face was just the right length to allow for all those sly expressions the physicist like to sneak in when he thought no one was looking. It was an adorable face. An adored face...

And he had nice eyelashes. They were long and cast a delicate shadow over the pale golden skin. Then there was the curve of his eyebrow when he arched it just so, conveying Egon's sardonic humor and wit. Sometimes his friends face could be impassive, reflecting nothing but calm control, then that eyebrow would flex just a little, and Peter would know Egon wasn't as distant from the topic as he seamed. He loved that, communicating without words, they did it all the time and it made him feel special, one of the few who knew Egon well enough to read his moods, to get his jokes.

It made Peter feel like he belonged. He slid his eyes over the resting face and came to Egon's lips. The full lower lip that just invited being suckled at, having long, lingering kisses - he could almost taste what they would be like...Peter covered his eyes again and groaned. He was gone, he was soooo gone.

What was he gonna do about it? He had to do something, right? Venkmans weren't sit around day dreaming kinda guys, they went for it! And let's face it, he'd never been any good at keeping his mouth shut. He'd say something and Egon would guess...So what next? Well, for one thing--no more giving Egon baths! Peter thought back to their earlier bath-time adventure and felt a pleasant tingle begin in his groin.

Shocked, the psychiatrist sat upright, hastily crossing his legs. After a second or two he peered down at his lap in consternation. Holy crap! When did this happen? Okay, so it probably evolved with the love thing, but wow! Egon could turn him on! This meant a fully realized relationship was in the offing. The full enchilada, if you'd pardon the imagery. Wow. Shit. Talk about scary, this was mind-blowing stuff!

Peter thought back to the bathroom thing again. Yep, tingle. He remembered helping the physicist stand up from the bath, their bodies had been in close proximity, the water rushing down Egon's sides. They'd pressed together, Egon's weight resting on Peter's strength as he made his way out of the tub. Peter had all but carried him to a seat on the closed toilet lid, draped with a towel and with a bathmat on the floor already positioned by the concerned and fussing Venkman. Peter had wrapped the towel around Egon and grabbed a second to dry his trailing and bedraggled hair.

When the nurse had rung the doorbell he had dumped a clean set of boxers--not jockeys, no need to give the nurse palpitations--on Egon's head and the tall blond had smiled back up at him like...like a grateful best friend. Which while great in one way, well, it wasn't how Peter wanted to be viewed now. He wanted heat, he wanted lusting, he wanted red hot love!

I can make him love me. Peter reasoned. Who better? I'm already his best friend, I've got the inside information I need to mount one hell of a seduction. Peter looked over at his peacefully sleeping friend. Egon was laying unnaturally still, the discomfort of his injuries yet with him. Peter fought back a sudden urge to get on the bed and hold him, cradle the lanky body and try to ease Egon's discomfort. He looked away instead.

He was still being assailed by waves of uncertainty and fear hours later when Egon stirred and blinked tired blue eyes. Was Peter man enough to make a play for Spengler and risk the consequences, come what may? Hell, yes! But not without stacking the odds in his favor first…

"Whatcha reading?" Winston asked curiously. He'd just staggered up the stairs and found Peter slouching in the TV room with a thick book. Winston was just back from Peru; his legs had barely made the long climb up from the first floor. The firehouse had never looked so welcoming, but finding Peter reading was a bit of a shock to his system. Was there some bad craziness going down?

"This old thing?" Peter replied, waving the monstrous tomb in the air. " It's called Fungi I Have Grown, by A. Moss. Very strange man, old Mossy was. A little too fond of his red cap, if you ask me." Peter wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "There is some fascinating stuff in here, though. Did you know the Japanese have huge underground caverns dedicated to fungus production, developed for the replacement of hamburger meat? Fungi burgers - who'd have thought?"

"Um, yeah -who?" Winston gave the seated man an odd look. He stashed the knapsack that had been gaining weight all morning on the sofa and went to lean on Venkman's armchair. "You taking a break from all that accounting you came back to get started?" He needled, looking over the psychologist's shoulder at the illustrations in his book. Hmm, Peter's right. Way too much focus on the red caps...

"What account…oh, yeah, that." Peter gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Nah, I've been looking after Egon."

Winston blinked. Doctor Peter Venkman admitting to caring for his best friend more than money? Shit, something really was up! "Is he all right? Did you have to take him to emergency?  Damnit Venkman, you could have called us!"

"Whoa! Time out! Egon's okay, he was a little wonky when I got home, but he's okay now. Trust me, I wouldn't let you guys out of the loop on something like that." Peter brushed back his hair one handed and made him self relax back into the chair. "He's okay, Zed."

"You feeling all right?" Winston asked, resting a hand on his shoulder. Pete losing it like that, Egon must have had him worried.

"I'll live." Winston waited, but that's all Peter said. A frown creased the back mans brow. Venkman should have been making a play for sympathy, something along the lines of poor Peter, Angel of Mercy, selflessly putting the needs of his work mates before his own, blah, blah, blah. The usual.

"Hey, Zed." Peter added, casually lifting his book back up and pretending to read. "I made an appointment for you at Mario's. It's at 4:30, be there or be square."

Winston turned and considered his reflection in the TV monitor. Hmmm, he was looking a little shaggy there. "Thanks, Pete. You're a pearl."

"Shucks, I'm blushing." Peter smirked, waving a hand in acceptance of the praise. He then went back to his reading. He had a lot to research, some serious moola to spend, and a seduction to plan. His time was precious.

Later, when the others got to see Egon and found out what kind of a time he had had of it, Winston thought he understood Peter. Egon looked like shit. He, Ray and Janine spent time coddling their favorite scientist as well. But he was wrong.

 

One week later.

"Peter, I find myself desiring another desert. Could you get me a cheese cake from the nearest Barnes and Noble, please?" Egon asked from his nest on the sofa. Propped up with pillows, confined under blankets, surrounded by scientific journals and a flotilla of snack food wrappers he looked warm and cozy. Completely edible. Peter jumped up to get the cheese cake as much to stop himself hopping in with the other man and snuggling up as to attend to his request. He grabbed Ecto's keys double time and headed out into the night.

"So Peter's hovering is starting to get on your nerves too, huh?" Ray grinned from the floor. He and Winston sprawled by the coffee table sharing a bowl of popcorn while they battled each other at scrabble. Egon gave them both a mysterious smile.

"Actually, I am quite enjoying Peters attentions." He admitted, tucking a bit of blanket more securely into place and re-smoothing it's surface.

"You're kidding, he's been hanging off you like purple ectoplasm." Winston laughed. "I couldn't stand Venkman's mothering when I'm healthy, let alone feeling sick."

Ray nodded; Peter's nursing did tend to get you back on your feet faster. You had to get better, if only to get away from him!

"I don't mind." Egon insisted placidly. Ray gave him a careful look; he and Winston had been speculating on Peter's behavior lately, and Egon's uncharacteristic reveling in it. It was most out of character for the both of them. He shared a look with his Scrabble partner, then pounced. Throwing back the blanket he grabbed the un-bandaged foot and menaced the exposed arch with curved fingers.

"Okay, Egon, give! What's going on!" Ray wiggled his eyebrows threateningly.

"Such tactics are beneath you, Raymo…argh! Argh! Nooo, stop - stop it! Ray! Winston, make him stop!" Egon clung to the back of the couch and tried to wriggle his way backwards, away from Ray's tormenting tickles. Scientific journals and wrappers flew into the air as he struggled to free himself.

"Uh huh. Nope, not unless you talk." Ray meant business. He held on and tickled for all he was worth, ignoring Egon's yelps and even the more inventive curses the taller man threw at him in Sumarian. Ray had learnt his craft at the hands of a Master--Peter Venkman--and knew that to give in would result in sulking and no further information. He put a bit of nail into his tickling.

"Aaarrrgh! This is most…ugh…unscientific!" Egon gasped. His tormentors were ruthless! "Very...very well! Desist, and I will tell you!"

"That's more like it." Winston signaled and Ray pulled back. Egon rubbed his foot, giving his alleged friends the evil eye. Love children of the first degree, the both of them.

"It is hardly a secret." He pouted accusingly. He was stalling, naturally, but Ray and Winston looked ready to wait him out. Oh well..."Peter's nurturing instinct has lead him to regard me in, ahh, a more than friendly manner." At their patently waiting looks he elaborated, "He has simply developed a bit of a crush for me. I am, naturally, extremely flattered." Egon blushed. Saying it aloud was different from thinking it to himself. It made the matter more corporeal, imminent, real.

"What did he say to make you think that?" Winston eyed him unhappily. This was not the best news he had ever heard.

"Well, it is not what he said, exactly. I, it was something in his eyes." Egon remembered back. He sat up straighter on the sofa and let his feet go to rest on the floor as a far away look stole over his face. Winston and Ray exchanged another glance. This was bad.

Egon described catching a glimpse of Peter's face when he had been brushing Egon's hair in the kitchen. Reflected in one of the big pots hanging from a rack by the stove Egon had witnessed the most tender look that he had ever seen cast in his direction before. Keeping an eye out to see if he could spot that look again, he had noticed Peter engaging in further distinct courtship behaviors. He had received a pleasant kick from it all.

The other two Ghostbusters instantly believed his diagnoses of Peter's state. After all, it had to have been one hell of a look if Egon had recognized it. The resident scientist wasn't known for his knowledge of subtly in relationships. That was partly why this sudden turn of events panicked them both.

"Egon, what are you going to do?" Ray asked worriedly. More importantly, what are we going to do? he thought.

"I am going to enjoy his regard for as long as it is available." Egon answered promptly. "I am quite curious as to weather Peter will eventually tell me of his feeling, or attempt to cover them as he so often does."

"And if he tells you, then what?" Winston eyed his friend warily. Jeez, Egon looked thrilled as a schoolboy with his first valentine.

"Hmmm, I have wondered what it would be like to experience some of Peters more adventuresome courting techniques." Egon mused dreamily.

"You'd sleep with him?" Winston gasped.

"Winston! I...I don't believe it will come to that. Perhaps we shall kiss..." Egon hedged. He had definite hopes of receiving a kiss or three.

"Egon, he's gonna want to do more than just kiss." Winston insisted. He had studied Venkman for a long time, he knew how the other man's mind worked. Damn, but Pete reading that fungi book made sense now. The bastard was polishing up on his 'Egon' subjects to win the guy over.

What were they going to do about Egon? In many ways he was still very naive, he was definitely vulnerable to a Venkman snow job. Just listen to the fool defense he was putting together for the man now.

"He wont. Peter is a gentleman, I'd stake my reputation on his not trying to pressure me into anything I didn't want to do." Ray and Winston managed to keep their mouths shut, but their eyes bulged a little at the strain. They were glad they had made the effort when Egon's next words revealed a little of the loneliness and resignation he must be feeling.

"Peter will get over his crush as soon as I am well, and the next photo journalist from Vogue comes along. I am sure he has no truly deep feelings for me. Not of that kind." He sounded so confidant yet so sad when he said this that their hearts ached for him. Poor Egon.

Egon sighed. He had determined not to think about the inevitable end of Peter's attentions. Enjoy it while you can, as Peter himself said. Pausing to ruminate Egon realized with a start that his other friends might find the homosexual overtones of Peter's crush, and perhaps his own reaction to it, unpalatable. "Does this make you uncomfortable Ray? Winston?"

They blinked up at him. Did it make them uncomfortable? Peter, who's life motto was 'Find 'em, Fool 'em, Frig 'em, Forget 'em, had a thing for Egon, who's greatest turn on was discovering a new kind of pond life, and the seemingly inevitable breakup which would break the scientist's heart, no matter how he was ignoring the possibility now. What wasn't there to love about that?

It all depended on how far Peter took this thing. If he stopped at kisses, Egon would be heart broken and the firehouse would be a very uncomfortable place to be for a while. But if Peter went all the way, then dumped Egon...there wouldn't be any strained feelings at the firehouse because the place, the friendships, would all fall apart.

"Egon, do you, are you…are you…gay?" Ray blushed at the clumsy question, but found he needed to know.

"No, Raymond. Not that I am aware of. But, well. It is Peter." Egon answered, certain they would see the distinction. They did, more than he knew.

"Hey, Egon, Peter says you're going out tonight. Can I use the lab...wow!" Ray skidded to a stop just inside the bedroom. Egon was sitting on the end of his bed wearing an expensive looking double breasted, dark blue, crushed velvet tuxedo. Under it he wore a mandarin collared dark blue shirt made from the same satin as the tuxedo's lapels and the line of trim down the pants, with a flashy red hologram vest and a matching red garnet cover button. The accessories matched his red framed glasses.

"Do you approve?" Egon asked, his deep voice sounding hesitant as he fiddled with his lapel nervously. "Peter bought it for me."

"I remember you said he'd taken you for a fitting...boy, it's great!" Ray grinned enthusiastically. Egon stood up and Ray could see that Egon's sling had been made from the same material as the shirt, a nice touch. Even the cufflinks were finished with a tiny garnet center to tone in, very smart!

"You really like it?" Egon didn't often fish for compliments, his eyes held a diffident worry. Peter had gone to a lot of trouble for this suit, and he wanted to look good in it.

Ray wondered if Egon had any idea just how much an outfit like that would have cost. Ray had had to hire them in the past, and the prices had amazed him. He could retrofit Ecto for the price of some of them, it was criminal.

Actually, Egon had five tuxes stashed in his wardrobe. One of them was a gift from his parents, but he'd brought the others himself so he should know their worth.

Of course, Egon was kind of vague with money matters. Like the rest of them, in times of plenty he just spent money and assumed there was enough in the bank to cover it, without really taking notice of how much his new toy cost. Hence the centrifuge debacle and Ecto's titanium plated couplings catastrophe. Oops, Ray didn't want to dwell on that!

"You look really nice, Egon. Special. And there is No Way that Peter has just got a crush on you. That cost him a bundle, he wouldn't do that for just a crush." Ray moved further into the room and leaned on one of the poles of the afore mentioned Ghostbuster's four-poster bed. This had become a running argument since two weeks ago when Egon had first been made to 'fess up'.

"Nonsense." Egon began crisply. "Peter just happened to notice the garment on sale when he picked out his own tuxedo for tonight." A high color had lit his cheekbones, so Ray guessed his friend really did know the cost of the tux and was covering. He debated arguing the point, but Egon was pretty good at ignoring a situation if he wanted to; just look at him and Janine.

"Well, they did a great job at fitting it." He conceded, admiring the way the tux fit Spengler's long form. Apart from the sling and a limp, Egon still wore a pressure bandage, but it was discreetly hidden under classy black shoes and socks, you couldn't tell the man had recently been through an ordeal. His weight was back to normal, thanks mostly to the entire GB team stuffing him full of tidbits, and Ray smiled as he saw Egon run a hand down the tux's plush and preen at his words.

With a happy curl to his lips Egon remembered the tuxedo's fitting. Peter had insisted they go together and when they got there he'd introduced the tailor as if they were old friends. Peter was like that, Spengler had observed, he could know someone for five minutes and come away his or her lifelong friend. Naturally, he was just as capable of installing immediate and immense dislike in a new acquaintance, but Egon rather thought Peter liked it that way. It gave him challenges.

The tailors name was Benno, and he and Peter shared a wink that Egon vaguely thought had something to do with keeping the prices of everything secret, though he may have been wrong. Peter's fitting had been a swift affair, Benno apparently having most of the measurements on hand.

Peter had sat, or rather sprawled in a nearby chair while Benno took Egon's measurements. His green eyes half lidded Peter had talked about this and that, occasionally asking the tailor to redo a certain measurement. Then came the strange moment when Peter had gone quiet while the tailor measured Egon's inner seam. Benno had continued taking his exhaustive measures, but Peter had mentally wandered off, his eyes looking unfocused and distant.

There had been some kind of discrepancy in Egon's waist measurements, for Benno had had to take them several times. It was on the fourth re-measure that Peter had snapped back into himself and given the tailor the evil eye. His stalling was probably being added on to the bill, Egon had deduced, and tried to stand as still as possible in order to facilitate a speedier process.

"Yes, they did an excellent job," he asserted, "I believe Peter got them to do some alterations on our uniforms as well."

Just then Peter himself walked in, adjusting his cufflinks. He stopped and admired the tall scientist, Egon glowing under his gaze. "Wow." he said, and his eyes shone with a particularly hungry light. Ray had the sudden urge to throw himself between them, but then he looked back at Egon and saw that his eyes held something of a gleam in them as well. He decided not to interfere. Egon was a grown man, right?

"Shall we go, Spengs?" Peter cocked an eyebrow and indicated the door. He was dressed in a classic black tux with white mandarin collared shirt and onyx button cover, a dark gray satin vest to contrast with the black formal wear and shiny black shoes--he looked good and he knew it. "We've gotta be there in time for the free drinks." He added, eyes sparkling. Egon gave a short laugh and walked over to him, just a slightest touch of a limp marring his long stride. Peter took his arm for the stairs, a habit he'd gotten into, and they descended together. Ray had followed them down and he helped open the double front doors so Ecto could pull out into traffic.

"Egon and Peter, off on their first date." Winston smiled, loading another pressed uniform into the GB lockers. "Isn't that cute."

"I don't know, Winston. Egon still thinks Peter just has a crush." Ray sat on the dressing bench and frowned at the now closed front doors, having second thoughts. He should have said something to Peter. Warned him off, maybe. "What if Peter makes a move and Egon panics?"

"Then Pete will back off." Winston assured his younger companion. "Look, I've been thinking things over. Pete's never gone gung-ho on any babe that couldn't stand up to him, right?" Ray shook his head no. Peter liked the feisty type.

"Then why should he be any different with Egon? Just because old Spengs happens to be a guy, I don't think he'll change his style. Egon says no, he'll try another tactic, but ultimately he'll respect what he wants."

"He might. He might talk Egon into doing something he doesn't want to do. Peter can be pretty persuasive."

"And Egon is the legendary unmovable object, if he doesn't want to change, he wont. Take those damn pink shirts...please!" Ray gave a smirk at Winston's attempt at humor, so the other man continued on. "Actually, Egon might not mind being persuaded, did you think about that? He is acting kind of chuffed about the whole thing." Winston chuckled. Scientists in love, what a scary concept.

"He sure was preening when I went upstairs earlier. And Peter is making a big effort. He went to that spores convention and took photos of The Fungi Society's winning entries so Egon could drool over them later. Can't say he's been that willing to put himself out for a date since Dana."

They both automatically stopped and hunched their shoulders a little, waiting. Grinning nervously to each other they eventually straitened up, no yells from the absent Venkman that they 'were not to mention that woman ever again' came from above. A Venkman scorned was a terrible thing, and mentioning the cellist's name could get you hours of grief.

"Things will work out alright, wont they, Winston?" Ray asked plaintively.

"I hope so, Ray. I sincerely hope so."

 

Peter sat back and sipped his free wine. With studied languor he scanned the people in the other opera boxes, smirking happily to himself . This had been a great idea, not only were there free drinks and nibbles, but he got to spread out in his seat and watch Egon watching Opera. It was an interesting sight, one he'd never been able to indulge in, crammed in the lower rows with his baseball cap pulled over his eyes so no one could tell when he took a nap. He didn't want to nap this time, that was for sure.

Egon was sitting right up against the boxes front rail, his good hand propping up his chin as he watched dreamily over the opera singers as they wailed away on the stage.

Not simply, as Peter had always assumed, the female opera singers, but the opera singers. Both sexes. Peter had watched with startled surprise as Egon fluttered his lashes and sighed at the male as well as the female leads.

He'd suffered a mild pang of jealousy then, but had quickly reassured himself that he too had a great voice, a high tenor, no less. Yeah, he had a great voice and could trot out a rigolletto, or apéritif, or whatever the hell it was that impressed the audiences, and Egon, so damned much. Nothing to it!

Peter hadn't bothered boning up on opera, he'd been before and knew Egon's post performance fan boy soliloquy only required the occasional 'yep' or 'so true' from him to please the besotted blond.

As for his seduction plans, Peter was concentrating his research on fungi, and so far it was paying off. Absurdly, he was finding the subject quite fascinating, especially Egon's interest in helping to feed the less soil lucky nations of the world build up their nutritional intake. Super fungi, taking the place of many animal products and even some legumes. Wonderful stuff.

He'd always had a kind of peripheral knowledge of what Egon's experiments were meant to bring about, he'd even eaten some of them--often under the misapprehension that they were Rays 'famed in song and legend' meatballs. But he'd never really looked into it, and now he wished he had. It revealed yet another caring layer of the man he had fallen in love with. Plus, there was money to be made in Mushroom Burgers, he could feel it in his bones.

Peter glanced around the opera box again and stretched, just because he could. Ghostbusters hadn't turned out so badly, he thought proudly, not if a jaunt like this hardly made a dint on the old bank account. He hadn't let the guys know, but the patents for some of their stuff had finally come through last week and they were all in gravy for the foreseeable future. He would wait until the patent for Ray's double bend wheel sprocket got through, then planned on throwing a huge party and announcing the happy news.

Yep, life was good. Half closing his eyes Peter decided now was probably the best time to do the famed Venkman marriage litmus test. The experiment by which he, Professor Peter Venkman, determined if his current date was worth perusing beyond the first major--sometimes minor--snag in the relationship.

He let his gaze settle on the oblivious blond still sighing over the opera singers. With practiced ease he pictured himself sitting right here with Egon as they were now, only twenty years into the future. Peter was heartbreakingly sure he'd have taken up hat wearing as a religion by then, so decided to even the fates by having Spengler put on all that weight that was lining up as his due from a diet of Ring Dings and Twinkies. Oh yeah. A tubby six-foot-four Ghostbuster with white hair and a small goatee replaced his favorite scientist, looking surprisingly similar to Colonel Sanders.

Peter put them both in elegant white matching tuxedos--and they said he wasn't a romantic, sheesh--and gave them some kind of newfangled super screen binocular that they could lovingly share between them--the joys of future science. They'd be wearing matching platinum wedding bands--and they said he wasn't romantic--and eating from a shared bowl of popcorn--the stuff was high in fiber, right? Old guys had to watch stuff like that. They would be holding hands and Egon would be explaining the plot to him, pausing every now and then to snicker at Peter's intellectually witty one-liners.

Peter braced himself and kept this image steady, so clear that he could almost feel it, letting it superimpose itself over reality.

It didn't happen. For the second time in his life the reactions that normally came with the litmus test didn't manifest themselves. No over-whelming feelings of being trapped, closed in, suffocated or stifled. Actually he felt the reverse, up-lifted and set free. Weird. He felt a pang of regretful nostalgia as the crowd stood to show it's appreciation of the closing act and his future image faded away.

Peter escorted his date down to the underground car park, where their red finned chariot awaited them. Egon's slow hobble had allowed Peter to keep his arm around the taller mans waist for most of the decent. He was feeling a little concerned, actually. Egon had seemed to be improving, now it looked like he had put the crutch aside a little too early. Goddamn these stoic types, Egon knew there were hundreds of stairs at the opera! If he'd fallen he could have been seriously hurt!

Nothing was wrong with Egon's mouth however and the tall blond was talking Peter's ear off with his interpretation of tonight's performance. Peter said "Yep." And "So true." Like he normally did and fished the keys out his pocket as they neared Ecto. He left Egon's side to go to the drivers door, intending to pop Egon's door from the inside.

"Peter, aren't you going to open my door first?" there was an odd low note to Egon's bass voice that brought the psychologist up short.

"Sure thing, Spengs." It wasn't until he was half way round the car that he realized what that tone meant. He knows!  "You know!" he accused, moving up close to his partner and glaring into his smiling pale blue eyes.

"Yes Peter." Egon replied agreeably, his full-lipped mouth curling at the corners in a slight grin. Peter stepped even closer.

Peter looked up, and up a bit more. Damn, he's tall. The citizens of New York were going to be safe from public signs of affection between the two of them, Peter didn't want anyone seeing him climbing the tall physicist to reach his lips. It would be too embarrassing. Maybe if they were sitting down...

Peter slowly moved his hands up to either side of Egon's face and tugged it down so he could kiss him. Egon's mouth was sweet and hot and inviting. Delicious. It was absolutely delicious. Uncaring of any other opera-goers that might pass and see them, they continued their lip lock for what seemed like hours.

It was with reluctance that Peter eventually pulled back, knowing the cold night air wasn't good for Egon's still dodgy constitution. He'd kissed the end of Egon's nose and let him go, chatting effervescently about how he wanted their relationship to be. It wasn't till he reached Ecto's drivers door and mentioned he wanted to get married in Hawaii that Venkman got the first inkling that while he and Egon may have been reading the same book, they were not on the same page.

Egon's surprised gasp follower by the ugly sound of a body hitting the ground clued him in immediately. But by then it was far too late.

 

My head hurts, thought Egon, frowning as he tried to remember if he was currently on a bust. There was no sound of proton guns in the background so he cautiously opened one eye. A pristine white ceiling and half a bright electric light met his gaze. Hmm. Not at home then, either.

Egon looked around and deduced he was in the in-patients ward of the local hospital. The cubicle's curtains were closed but he wasn't attached to any monitoring machines, a good sign, he believed. Besides him looking troubled, stood Winston Zeddemore.

"What happened?" Egon tried to ask, the words graveled out of his dry throat. Winston searched the trolley beside the bed and came up with a glass of water with a bent straw. Egon sipped gratefully while the other man talked.

"We were hoping you could tell us that." Winston said. He and Ray had been switch-hitting as Devil's Advocate for Peter ever since that scrabble game. They'd both wanted a swing at the guy when they got his phone call to come to the hospital, both lost the urge when they saw the terrible state he was in when they got there. "The Doc thinks you've had low blood pressure for awhile and then you had a shock of some sort and blanked out. There's a bump on your head, they want to look into that, but the low blood pressure is their biggest concern. Here, they want you to eat these sandwiches." Winston raided the trolley again and proffered a plate of mock chicken sandwiches cut into small triangles to his friend.

"Thank you." Egon accepted one and took a bite. It was delicious and he kept eating until they were all gone. Munching also kept his mouth occupied so he didn't have to answer the questions lining up in Winston's eyes. But Zed was patient, and when the sandwiches were eaten and washed down with another sip of water, he asked what had gone down between Egon and Peter.

"He wants to marry me in Hawaii." Egon said, hardly daring to believing the words as he said them.

"Hawaii? How we gonna get our relatives out there? Peters way of keeping guests to a limit, I bet..." he trailed off when he realized Egon was looking at him with faintly accusing eyes. "Uh, that's not the problem, is it?" He asked and Egon shook his head in frustration. Okay, Zeddemore, look at this as a mystery. Let's work out why marriage in Hawaii's got our boy here all worked up. Winston sat and pondered.

"You thought Peter only had a crush on you, and now it turns out he's fallen in love." Winston deduced with a satisfied snap of his fingers.

"Where are Peter and Raymond? Are they alright?" Egon abruptly changed the subject; meaning Winston was dead on the mark.

"They're okay. You're only supposed to have one visitor, although I saw Peter arguing the toss with the nurses just a minute ago. Now, why can't you believe Venkman's fallen for you?"

Egon blinked at the man. What an absurd question, was he blind? The answer was so obvious that he, Egon, had never doubted it. "But…how can he love me?" Egon asked reasonably.

"Hm, let's see. Because you're intelligent, you share the same weird sense of humor, you know how to cut through the Venkman bullshit, and you generally float his boat." Winston ticked the points off on his fingers, throwing his hands up in exasperation at the last one because of Egon's dismissive snort.

"Those things I may be, but I am not beautiful." Egon stated firmly. He sat and thought awhile, one hand plucking at the hospital beds linen. His eyes, when he raised them to meet Winston's at last were haunted. "I am not beautiful and Peter needs to be seen with a beautiful partner, his ego is quite fragile that way. I wish I could be beautiful for him, but I am not. Why did he say those things? He made it sound as if he planned to spend a life with me, when I know it will never happen. How could he lie to me like that? I love him."

Winston swallowed heavily. God, what could he say. His mind was racing to find the words when he noticed a movement and held up his hand for silence. Stealthily he moved to one of the cubicles curtains and pulled it back. Ray and Peter stood there, looking stunned.

"How can you not think you're beautiful?!" Ray asked, speaking for them both.

Peter moved into the cubicle and sat beside Egon on the bed. He took the other mans hand in his own and looked searchingly into the pale blue eyes. What he saw there broke his heart.

Peter had been cursing himself roundly since Egon's collapse in the car park. He knew better than to spring things on his friend like that, Egon didn't react well to emotional surprises. But Peter'd just been too damn happy. Burbling on about rings and weddings, not noticing that Egon hadn't responded to his grand future planning. Shit, Peter felt like an asshole. And to find out Egon had this hang up about his looks, that hurt. He'd teased the guy ruthlessly about it for years and never guessed that he deep down felt inadequate in the looks department. Egon had buried that one deep, he guessed. The guy could be a stone wall.

That Egon thought Peter cared two whits about what his life long lover would look like; well, that hurt in a whole 'nother way. Not that Peter didn't deserve it; act like a root rat, get stuck with its stench.

"Egon." He squeezed the hand he held and tried to put as much sincerity into his eyes as he could. "I don't want to be with anybody else but you. I guess I should have said this earlier, but I've fallen for you, and as far as I'm concerned if Julia Roberts and Nicole Kidman both came and offered themselves to me right now, I'd turn them down." Peter tried a little grin and noticed Egon glancing at someone over his shoulder. "Guys," he asked, never taking his eyes from Egon's face, "can we have a moment alone here?"

"Sure." Winston said, gripping him on the shoulder for luck. "Come on Ray, let's go get something to drink." As they left a doctor entered, giving them an impatient look. They hurried their exit and the woman moved further into the room and began taking Egon's blood pressure. She quizzed him on his recall and if he felt any nausea, took his temperature and wrote the results up on a clipboard. Peter hovered, still a little worried about Egon's impromptu swan dive.

"He's fine." She eventually told him. "We'd like Doctor Spengler to stay overnight for observation, but he should be all right to leave tomorrow morning. Visiting time only lasts another half hour." She added pointedly as she headed for the door. Silence reined in her wake.

Egon fiddled with his hospital identification bracelet while Peter waited uncertainly by his side. Finally the tension got to him and he spoke.

"Why'd you let me kiss you, Spengs? Why, if you didn't think it was love?" he clenched his hands at his side and kept his eyes on the white sheets of the hospital bed.

"I was lonely." Egon eventually replied. Peter felt his heart give a lurch in his chest and break into a thousand pieces. Egon was--lonely. Not really in love. Lonely. Oh god. The room began to spin and Egon gave him a surprised look.

"Peter? Are you well?" He asked, concerned at the other mans pinched look.

"I'm fine. You were saying...about the kiss." Peter gestured for him to keep talking.

"Yes, well. I missed you when you were gone." Peter glanced at him, but Egon had focused on the plastic identity bracelet again. "I have always felt a strong affection for you, I realized just how strong in your absence."

Affection - right. Peter nodded sagely. Egon flicked him a glance but continued on.

"I have always been aware that my affection for you could easily turn another way, but I have been certain, too, that you would never return it to me in the degree that I desired. I have satisfied myself with being your friend and have been happy with that, truly, for all these years." Egon took a deep, steadying breath, unaware of the surging hope in his companion's expectant gaze.

"Then you came back early for me from Peru and I could see that my desperate state had encouraged a sympathetic crush of some sort to form. And I, I am not made of stone, Peter. I took that chance to be close to you, even knowing that it would end quickly, probably as soon as I felt better." Egon sounded confidently resigned. Unexpected anger clouded Peter's sight.

You're a cocky bastard, Egon Spengler. Think you know me so well. Peter managed to keep his temper in check, but had to shake his head to clear it, his hair falling over his eyes. Egon took the movement as denial of he, Egon's, motivation.

"I couldn't help it, I craved your company when you were gone and needed to be near you when you returned. I still need to be near you." His hands stilled and he at last looked up into Peter's shadowed green eyes.

"So, you do love me?" Peter asked as boldly as he dared. Egon nodded. "Can I have that in writing?"

"Don't play with me, Venkman, I won't have it." Egon frowned and Peter broke into a wide grin. 

"I love you." He said in a teasing tone. Egon harrumphed then looked at him from under lowered eyelashes.

"So I understand. You did mention marriage, after all." It was slowly dawning on the lanky scientist that Peter hadn't run screaming from his declaration of deeper feelings, nor  did he look anything but concerned at his doubts as to his looks. There was no hidden guilt lurking in Peter's eyes. No tell tale, 'Yeah, you might be right there; the thought of life commitment/your bug-ugly mug have turned me off, I am so out of here.' Most peculiar.

But now it was Peter's turn to look uncomfortable. "Yeah, sorry about that whole putting-you-on-the-spot thing Egon. Guess I was rushing a little bit. You have no idea how much I've been thinking about this, you and me getting together, I mean." He sat on the bed again and retook Egon's hand. It felt natural to do so, to hell with the risks. He and Egon would probably be 'out' any way. Egon just wasn't a closet kind of guy.

"I've had us married and adopting half a dozen kid's since last Wednesday. Honest, I've got the names picked out already." Egon was laughing and Peter squeezed his hand, smiling like a loon. Egon looked lovely when he laughed. "Hey, Spengs," Peter leaned in and  whispered into his ear. "Wanna go steady?"

"Hmm." Egon pretended to ponder the question, then glanced at Peter from the corner of his eyes. There had been no doubt in his mind what his answer would have been, but now looking into Peter's eyes it was there, the same look he had seen in the kitchen while Peter had been brushing his hair. "Very well." He answered.

"Cool." Peter gulped. His heart was doing something weird in his chest and the single world was all he could get out. They sat and grinned at each other for a while, just holding hands and being in each others company.

"Children, Peter?" Egon smiled, quirking one blond eyebrow.

"Gotta have something to keep Ray and Winston occupied with while we're upstairs making nookie." Peter told him.

Egon just rolled his eyes.

 

The next day the team welcomed Egon home with blueberry pancakes, maple syrup and cinnamon sugar. Ray and Winston had been very quiet all through the breakfast making experience, though their silence didn't stop them shoveling up the fluffy pancakes with a will when they were ready. Peter had made an extra effort to struggle up out of bed early to get the batter ready, his usual morning blah had been ferociously wrested to one side and he kept smiling at everyone like a lovesick idiot, which he claimed he was.

The guys had had a brief sit down discussion last night and Peter had explained to them his intentions towards their blond scientist. "Practicing for the in-laws," he'd said. They had taken his words somewhat more seriously than he had anticipated and shown every sign of still mulling things over this morning. Peter was touched that the guys were that concerned for them; he'd have worried if they'd given a blasé go ahead or pretended to be cool with things right away.

Having two of the Ghostbusters in a gay relationship and out with it would affect the rest of the team, no doubt about it. Peter wouldn't be surprised if they both suffered a little 'What does this make me?' anxiety, maybe even some resentment. However, that wasn't showing now. And Peter was glad, it gave he and Egon a chance to adjust to their new feelings without the added pressure of their friends' reactions. Or so he thought.

Peter scooped the last pancake onto the platter and swung it over to the table. He snagged the top two onto Egon's plate and left the others to serve themselves. He'd eaten his fill already, but was content to sit and talk with the guys while he waited for them to catch up. They were on a go slow with the business anyway because of Egon's injuries and they were deciding what needed doing next now that they had some time.

Peter wasn't particularly looking at Egon, but when a drop of syrup escaped onto Egon's lips he reacted instantly, unthinkingly leaning in to kiss it away.

"Peter!" Egon admonished him. Grinning Peter went for a second kiss, but was brought up short by someone grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking him backwards.

"He said no." Ray snapped, using his hold on Venkman's shirt to push him away. Peter looked at him in surprise, raising his hands in classic surrender to call his friend off.

"Raymond, it's alright." Egon began softly, "I meant no, not at the kitchen table; not no, not at all." He eyed the flustered youngest Ghostbuster with curiosity.

"Its not alright." Ray shot back grumpily. "He can't just grab you like that. He's...he's manhandling you and I don't like it!"

Peter and Egon exchanged surprised looks. Egon tried to resolve Ray's anxiety once more.

"I am taller than Peter is, Ray. And my agility is twice what he would claim on a good day. In a fair fight I would overpower him nine times out of ten." Not that Peter would ever fight fair, Egon added to himself. "There is no need for you to worry."

"I'm not! Well, not really," Ray pouted, "but he just better behave! He's dating a Ghostbuster now, and we have standards!" Uncomfortable with the curious looks the others were giving him Ray snatched up the milk and headed for the door, snapping "Slimer, come!" at the little ghost who was getting busy in their garbage bin.

"I do believe Ray was defending my honor." Egon stated, trying to get his head around the odd notion. His brows met in a sudden frown and he glared at Winston accusingly. "I'm going to be the 'woman' in this relationship, aren't I? It's because of my hair."

"Beauty is a curse, ask me, I should know." Peter chirped lightly, keeping a close watch on Egon from the corners of his eyes. He also noticed Winston moving uncomfortably in his chair. Bingo! I'll make a psychologist of you yet, Egon, he thought, adding loudly in order to distract them both, "Tell you what, Spengs. We'll make it a rule that you always top, that way I'll get to be the feminine one. I've got the bone structure for it, after all." He fluttered his eyelashes and grinned widely.

"Oh, that was way too much information." Winston stood and scooped his empty plate into the kitchen sink. "I, uh, I've got to get to the auto barn. See you guys later." He then made a very hasty exit.

"Yeah, right." Peter smirked.

"Was that entirely necessary?" Egon asked in a neutral rumble, only the arch of one eyebrow revealing his amusement.

"Yep, it was. Sorry big guy." Peter reached over and took Egon's hand, running his thumb over the other man's knuckles while he thought. "This is going to take some time for them to get used to." He murmured eventually, leaning in to nuzzle a little at Egon's hair. It smelt nice and the soft tickle sent a pleasant wave of heat to his groin.

"Mmmm, and we haven't even told Janine yet." Peter's warm feeling disappeared abruptly.

"Don't buy us trouble, guy. We'll deal with Janine when we have to, just, not yet. Jeez, I'm gonna hafta have some strategy planned, a medi-kit standing by, maybe some police with handcuffs..." Despite the humor Egon could hear a genuine note of fear in Peter's voice and decided not to push the matter.

"I'm sure it won't come to that. Well...maybe just the one bodyguard..."

"Humph," Peter harrumphed, then pointed down at Egon's plate, "I made those pancakes special, buster! Eat up."

Obediently Egon resumed his breakfast while Peter stood up and moved behind his chair. With firm pressure Peter began massaging Egon's shoulders, humming tunelessly as he did so. Peter gave great neck massages, as all the Ghostbusters, and even the formidable Janine, had grown to know. There was a different rhythm to his massage this morning, one Egon knew from before.

I appear to have become Peters worry beads once more, Egon mused. He found this a most enjoyable way to eat breakfast, despite his apprehension about the other Ghostbusters, not to mention Janine's, reactions.

"We can do this, can't we, Peter?" He asked, finally, putting his fork to one side. Peter stopped the soothing movement of his hands and lent down to wrap his arms around Egon's chest, pressing the sides of their heads together.

"Yeah, we can. We can do this. I want you Spengs, in every sense of the word, and I plan on keeping you any way I can. That means that if the sex doesn't work, the romance doesn't work, we'll get through it. We'll stay friends. All of us will stay friends." He kissed Egon's temple gently. "I promise."

Egon smiled trustingly. The future was, as always, uncertain, but it held several very interesting possibilities. And now it held Peter Venkman in it as well. All was right with his world.

Peter helped Egon out the shower and began peeling off layers of plastic bags. Now that the physicist was again steady on his feet the shower was more practical than a bath. True to his resolve Peter no longer scrubbed Egon's back, but he still felt he needed to stay close in case Egon should fall.

So he had sat on the closed toilet seat and talked, reaching over only to help with the more tricky maneuvers. He couldn't quite stop himself from taking the odd peek or two at his 'steady's' physique. Mmm, that six-pack. Peter remembered the look on the tailor's face when he'd run his hands over it while taking waist measurements. Benno had looked like he'd found the Promised Land.

Peter almost hadn't noticed, caught up in a fantasy where he got to do the measuring, wriggle of salacious eyebrow, but he had caught on to the tailors veiled groping and given the guy the hurry up. Egon was his sweetie; Benno would have to go find his own well-built genius to drool over.

Peter managed to get quite wet while helping Egon out of the shower. So after helping him remove the plastic bags and bath cap, a disgusting pea soup green affair with a pink frill that made Egon look like his head was being eaten by a particularly color challenged jellyfish, he popped in for a quick wash himself.

The feel of the running water and his proximity to the glory that was Egon soon had his body building up a little temple of love that bobbed happily in the steam and eventually, despite a death by icy-cold-water attempt, threatened to knock a hole through Peter's belly button. Wow, amazing what the sight of that gorgeously taunt body did for him.

Peter knew he'd have to be very careful giving Egon compliments on his looks. After his disclosure at the hospital Egon would be sensitive to them, wary of any pacifying overtones. Just telling the man he found him beautiful wouldn't cut it; he had to show him, and show him over a long period of time to counterbalance the damage that had been done. Peter felt up to the challenge. Indeed, his appreciation rose large before him!

He turned to make some lighthearted joke about his unexpected erection when he caught sight of Egon's face.

Dressed in trousers with the suspenders hanging down, white shirt on but undone, Egon stared at Peters body in unadulterated fascination. Abruptly he realized that Peter was aware of his staring and turned away, blushing furiously as he fumbled to get his shirt done up.

Peter turned off the shower and quickly swabbed himself down with a towel, dropping it to one side as he approached his partner. Egon pretended to concentrate on his buttons; suddenly he had far to many thumbs, all in the wrong place. Peter drew closer, turning Egon's face to look at him by resting one finger under his chin.

Breathing speeding up Peter took Egon's good hand and guided it to his erection. "It's for you," he whispered, sealing his lips over Egon's. He swallowed Egon's startled gasp, leaning back only when Egon pulled away and looked down.

With deliberate slowness Egon knelt to examine him properly. Peter reached behind himself for the towel rail, securing his grip and stilling his body's need to move by shear will power. Steeling his resolve he looked down and the sight of Egon regarding him with solemn fascination did things to him that it normally took a night of outrageous flirting and half an hour of frantic manual manipulation to achieve.

He could feel his toes starting to curl in preparation for an unexpected release when Egon suddenly moved. The blond dipped forwards to seal his lips over Peter's straining cockhead.

The intimate kiss was it; Peter shot his load with a silent howl, his body arching in a curve that apexed where Egon touched his body. He then curled forwards for the second wave, enveloping Egon's shoulders and head in a protective hug. Egon nuzzled into his stomach, lazily licking his lips as Peter tenderly cradled him close.

Peter still had one hand holding tightly onto the towel rail, it was the only thing keeping him standing. Wet hair trailed into his eyes and he panted desperately, tying to bring enough oxygen into his body to get the blood flowing to his brain again. Before he could manage it Egon licked at his belly and smiled up at him.

"That was, unexpectedly sweet, Peter."

"Yargh?" answered the two Venkman brain cells currently not blown away.

"Indeed. And as you know, I do have something of a sweet tooth." Egon continued.

"Yargh?!!" Peter gasped out. Egon smiled. Life was perfect.

 

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