Lecture of Love and Lust

by

Angelise

Story snippet: It had been two months since Egon had volunteered to head the committee responsible for arranging the conference on Paranormal Physics. Reluctantly Peter had stood on the sidelines and with each passing day, watched as his lover grew more and more enthusiastic about the event. Soon it seemed that nearly every aspect required Egon’s full attention. This left Peter with only Winston and Ray to distract him from his lonely state.

"Dr. Venkman! Nice of you to join us," the guest speaker declared from the podium. "We are, indeed, honored."

Grinning unrepentantly, Peter waved an acknowledgement, then settled down beside his lover. Leaning across the armrest, he whispered, "Missed ya this morning, Spengs."

Egon shared a tight smile with him. "Someone had to be here early," he explained. "There were still several details to take care of, and since one of us was obviously not getting up . . . ." The remainder of his sentence was left unspoken.

Peter had the grace to look apologetic for all of two seconds. "Yeah, I sure was tired," he admitted with a yawn. "There was this wild scientist in my bed last night who fucked me absolutely senseless. I blame my tardiness on him."

Peter pounded on Egon’s back when the man was overcome with an unexpected bout of coughing. He smiled at the few who diverted their attention from the lecture to check on their distressed colleague. "He’s okay. Swallowed his gum by mistake."

Gripping Egon by the shoulders, Peter peered at him with concern. "Ya gonna make it, Spengs?"

Egon took several deep breaths before making eye contact with his lover. Peter greeted the look of disapproval with a saucy grin. "Wow. That shade of pink looks pretty good on you." Moving to within kissing range, he asked huskily, "Was it something I said?"

One very lethal, very ‘You are so dead’ glare was directed at him. Peter just kept on grinning.

Turning his head slightly to the side, he touched his lips to Egon’s ear and proceeded to indulge in one of his favorite pastimes, the art of tongue tickling. "You make me so hot. Let’s play hookie," he murmured. "I promise you won’t miss a thing."

"Peter." Egon pushed him back into his seat. Wiping his ear, the psychologist pointed to the guest speaker. "Pay attention," he sternly admonished.

Peter pretended obedience by thoroughly perusing the program that was thrust at him the moment he had walked into the auditorium. It wasn’t long before his attention returned to the man sitting beside him.

It had been two months since Egon had volunteered to head the committee responsible for arranging the conference on Paranormal Physics. Reluctantly Peter had stood on the sidelines and with each passing day, watched as his lover grew more and more enthusiastic about the event. Soon it seemed that nearly every aspect required Egon’s full attention. This left Peter with only Winston and Ray to distract him.

It wouldn’t have been so bad except for the fact that his two friends were busy romancing the Benilli twins, and more often than not, Peter found himself sharing the couch with one or both of the enamored couples. Listening to them kiss and whisper sweet nothings only made his loneliness that more acute.

Even when Egon did make it to bed, Peter still found himself alone for it seemed the second his lover’s head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. Mumbled apologies and half-hearted hugs during the wee hours of the morning did nothing to satisfy him. Egon was his air; he couldn’t live without him.

Peter glanced at Egon and tried desperately to ignore the way his body was thrumming with hunger. He greatly missed his blond co-hort, and last night’s rare romp under the covers had only made things worse. Even now he could still taste the essence of Egon’s surrender on his tongue and not even the coldest of cold showers had cooled his desire.

Heat flooded his cheeks as he recalled just how many showers he’d been forced to take during the past two months. He wasn’t exactly happy to admit it, but those showers had been his only salvation. With the opening day of the conference finally at hand, Peter was relieved beyond measure to know that he could resume the hot bubble baths he so loved taking with his lover.

He returned his gaze to the crumpled program in his hands. ‘And not a moment too soon, if you ask me.’ he thought. ‘I was beginning to look like the Abominable Prune.’

Pulling out the pen and notepad he had brought to the seminar, Peter began doodling on a blank sheet of paper. It didn’t take long before his scribbling took a lusty turn. He was putting the final touches on a sketch of Egon in a most compromising position when a warning slap to his knuckles caught him by surprise. He looked up at his partner and asked, "What? What was that for?"

"Behave." Egon whispered.

Peter drew a smiley face on the paper, giving the caricature a prominent yawn. He wrote underneath the drawing . . . [ Boring! ]

Egon glanced down at the notepad and snorted before returning his attention back to the speaker.

Peter stared at his lover for a few minutes, totally unable to tear his gaze away from the look of fascination on Egon’s face.

‘God, Spengs! You're so damn handsome. Why in the hell do you waste your time and energy on me? Am I really worthy of your love?’ Peter focused on the slight smile curving his lover’s lips. ‘I sure as hell hope I am ‘cause it goes without saying that I need you. Sometimes you're the only thing keeping me sane.

Peter continued to watch his lover, memorizing, once again, each feature and each expression. A tender smile curved his own lips when he noticed Egon’s glasses were threatening their usual slide down his very sexy nose. Reaching over, he gently pushed the spectacles back in place. Once the small act of kindness was complete he sucked in a startled breath, hoping it would strangle the groan demanding acknowledgment.

"Spengs?" Eyes wide with disbelief, he stared at the man who had just licked his hand. Egon was looking straight ahead as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

‘Oh, no you don’t,’ Peter thought.

He surreptitiously glanced around and nearly whooped with glee when he noticed how isolated their seats were. With a slight nudge to Egon’s side, he turned in his seat and lifted his hand so that his companion could clearly see what he was doing. Ever so slowly he swiped his hand with his tongue, taking great care to savor the damp trail left behind by his lover.

Egon didn't say a word. He simply closed his eyes and lowered his head, turning his face into the shadows. Peter chuckled when he noticed the white-knuckled fist clutching the chair's armrest, and his smile grew wider at the sound of uneven breathing.

With one more look around to assure their privacy, Peter balanced the notepad on his knee and scribbled a few words. He slid it over to Egon and waited for him to acknowledge what he had written.

I love you.

Egon gazed at the paper for a long time, and Peter felt sorry for the bottom lip that was being relentlessly attacked by sharp teeth. He was about to take back the notebook when his lover released the death grip he had on the armrest.

With trembling fingers, Egon liberated a pen from his pocket protector and wrote back.

I love you, too, you wicked man.

Lust immediately took a southerly route, causing Peter to hurriedly write a new message.

I want you. Now. Here.

Egon dropped his pen and the trembling in his hands had increased tenfold by the time he located it and returned to their written conversation.

Have you lost your mind?

No. Just my heart.

Peter drew a heart with his and Egon’s initials inside and showed it to his lover. Egon responded by lightly stroking Peter’s hand. The innocent caress stoked the fires of his desire and without hesitation, Peter captured Egon’s hand and pressed it against the growing bulge between his legs.

Egon groaned. The sound was whisper-soft and shared only with the man sitting next to him.

Peter forced his attention back to the notepad. He was secretly delighted when his lover's hand remained exactly where he had placed it.

I've missed you so much. I need you.

Peter lifted his hips slightly just in case Egon didn’t get the message.

Now.

Egon opened his mouth, no doubt to protest. Peter didn’t give him the chance. Their kiss was quick, hot and wet, and once Peter could tear himself away, he was extremely happy to note Egon’s body had responded in like fashion -- hard, hot and yes, wet. He felt a small sense of pride when he saw the damp spot taking shape in the crotch area of Egon’s slacks. It never did take much to get his lover’s motor running.

Peter placed a hand over Egon’s heart, easily detecting its rapid beat. He wasn’t sure if it was lust or fear driving its rhythm, but he was more than ready to investigate the reason. He was a scientist, after all.

Sit back and enjoy. Let me do all the work.

Licking his lips in anticipation, Peter gathered up all the notepads and pens and placed them on the vacant seat to his left. Once that was done, he scooted as close to Egon as physically possible and eased one hand beneath the man’s nearest suspender. With the utmost care, he pressed his palm over a hidden nipple, holding his hand there until he could feel the soft pap hardened into a small pebble. He then lightly scraped the protrusion with his nails. The subtle torture was quickly followed by a round of pinching and twisting which only served to send Egon’s heartrate skyrocketing.

"You have no idea how hot this is making me," Peter whispered to his lover.

Keeping one eye on his companion and one eye on his surroundings, he noted the light sheen of sweat coating Egon’s upper lip. It was all he could do to keep from leaning over and licking it off. His gaze must have communicated his desire. Before he could move an inch, the most talented tongue in the world of paranormal slid out and performed the deed for him.

That one, insignificant act ignited his passion like a match to kindling. Abandoning his current plan of attack, Peter worked on securing a more satisfying position inside Egon’s shirt. He expertly maneuvered buttons out of their holes until full access to his lover’s nearly perfect chest was achieved. The previously tortured nipple was located, and this time Peter wasted no time in attacking it. He raked the small nub repeatedly with his nails and only desisted once Egon’s squirming became frantic.

Dropping his hand lower, Peter found an irresistible belly button and flirted with it for several seconds. His probing of the small hollow continued relentlessly despite the abdominal muscles that clenched in protest.

"Want me to raspberry ya, Spengs?" Peter softly asked.

Egon answered not with words but with action. He flexed his hand ever so slightly, letting his long fingers curve just enough to play with the firming sac nestled between Peter’s thighs.

The subtle pressure on his groin dictated Peter's own urgent need for verbal expression. Unfortunately at the very moment he needed to articulate his appreciation, the auditorium was filled with a deafening silence. Choking back the groan that had risen to his lips, he looked around and was relieved to find the lecturer had only paused to take a sip of water. Once the man’s monotone voice resumed, Peter dared leaning even closer to the man beside him. He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot behind Egon’s left ear and said, "I love you, Spengs."

Egon turned his head and snatched a quick kiss. His blue eyes peeked at his lover over the top rim of his glasses, and Peter swore he saw a hint of wickedness glittering in their depths. His assumption was proven correct when Egon’s muscular thighs parted, drawing immediate attention to what could only be described as an obviously aroused hunk of glorious manhood.

He was having a little difficulty assimilating the evidence presented to him and nearly missed the reminder Egon whispered. "I'm waiting, Dr. Venkman. Please share with me ‘your’ grasp on the subject."

Peter felt his eyes pop open wide with surprise. His man was teasing him! He loved it. "My grasp?" he asked. "You want ‘my’ grasp on the subject?" He nodded in the direction of Egon’s groin. "You want my grasp? On that?"

"I believe that is what I said," his blond companion declared.

"Oh, Spengs," Peter tweaked Egon’s nipple before removing his hand, "There’s definitely more to you that meets the eye."

Waggling his eyebrows, he snaked his hand down a nicely chiseled chest, resting it briefly on the waistband of his lover’s trousers. "I’m gonna make you feel so good," he promised before easing down the zipper.

"Naughty. Naughty."

A slimy green arm slid between them, and in its hand was a ruler. The wooden stick was sharply rapped across Peter's knuckles. Startled, he and his lover looked up and discovered Slimer grinning down at them. Their resident ghost hung around long enough to plant a slobbery kiss on each of their cheeks before floating out of sight.

Peter looked down at his hand and saw the green ooze coating his fingers. He then glanced over at Egon and winked.

"Look, Spengs. Lube!"

The end

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