Romance wasn't lost on him. He appreciated gestures, even if he was bad at making them, and for once he'd been inspired to try and do something that would appeal to his partner's romantic side.
A surprise, a gesture made guided by no calendar. An occasion created as though out of a magazine, with the music of choice being Can't Help Falling in Love, and the mood being dim - though no candles, of course, they had bad luck with fire.
He'd even gone as far as setting himself on one of the lab tables, bouquet of roses in hand, a pool of petals forming below his dangling feet, nervously picked in a childish game with himself.
And when Ray found him, his steadfast little heart did something abnormal at the smile he was rewarded with. Lopsided, sweet and somehow devious, just like the man who wore it.
He imagined the way he took a fistful of Ray's coveralls and yanked him close as soon as he came within reach would be described with a phrase like 'teenager in heat'. Which, in retrospect, he wasn't sure was all that romantic.
Though it was no less gratifying as he worked Ray up onto the table and under him. He wasn't sure what had become of the roses at that point, he suspected they'd ended up pillowing Ray's head.
What Egon didn't suspect, however, was for him to start squirming, nor to end up with a knee in his gut.
Through guilt-ridden laughs and kiss after apologetic kiss, Ray muttered that he really, really hadn't meant to spoil things like that, he'd just been struck with inspiration, and, you know how that is, don't you Egon? "Your stomach just happened to be between me and a notepad."
"It's alright, Raymond, you didn't hit me that hard." Egon said with a laugh more like a sigh.
"It was sweet anyway Spengs." He brushed a hand through Egon's hair, ever amused at its ability to bounce back. "Though I don't know if it's really you."
"I'm afraid I have to agree."
"You wanna move to the couch?"
"Couch. Yes."