Egon/Peter developing relationship, no warnings
-/-/-
It wasn't than there hadn't been any opportunities. Goodness knows there had been plenty of those.
There had been that time a month after they'd met, when their friendship was more of a suggestion than something concrete. They had found each other attractive, that much was obvious, and Peter was (mostly) confident he (probably) could have coaxed Egon into a one night stand that night he was helping the blond out in the lab. He was glad he never tried, though.
There had been that time when Peter had talked Egon into going to one of his infamous frat parties and the physics student had been terribly out of place without even realizing it and Peter had spent so much time tailing Egon around in disbelief of his utter social blindness that he hadn't had a damn thing to drink. They had walked back to Egon's apartment cold sober, laughing and chatting in the moonlight.
There had been that one New Year's Eve where Ray had fallen asleep with his face in a text book, despite Peter's admonitions that they were on break, damn it, and Peter and Egon had wound up side by side on the couch counting down on Peter's cheap watch. When the hands lined up on the all-significant twelve, their eyes met across the stained tweed cushion and Ray let out a particularly loud snore.
There had been Egon's umpteenth graduation celebration—this one was special, though, celebrating his first well-deserved doctorate—when Peter had settled down beside Egon at the table at the restaurant and asked him, "How does it feel, Doctor Spengler?" and Egon was nothing if not honest in responding, "Not much different, I admit." Peter had slung and arm over his shoulders and, for once, said nothing. No one was paying them any attention and they sat together for the entire night, moving neither away nor closer together.
There had been the first night they spent at the firehouse, huddled side by side in sleeping bags against spring's nighttime chill as they had yet to get any of the building's systems running, going over plans for their bouncing baby business by the light of an old camp lantern Ray had provided. Ray and Egon babbled science until Peter was sure their jaws had to be sore (his ears certainly were) and finally decided to call it a night so they could get an early start in the morning. Ray turned out the lantern and cheerfully bade them good night, leaving them all in city silence for some time. Finally, across the darkness, Egon murmured Peter's name.
"Yeah, Spengs?"
"Thank you. For putting forth such a tremendous effort to make this happen."
Peter had turned to find the shadow of white blond hair in the ink of the night, zeroing in on the ghostly shape of Egon's face. "Yeah," He'd answered finally, "No problem."
There had been the heart-stopping moment of panic in between Egon's call for Peter on a rooftop covered in gooey marshmallow and Peter's answer confirming his health and wellness, and the adrenaline-fueled moments that followed in which either man could have swept across the destroyed expanse of brick and corn syrup to each other but somehow didn't.
No, there had been opportunities. More than could be listed, than could even be remembered, and they had never been taken. So Peter wasn't sure what had possessed him to saunter into the lab one afternoon, place a hand on the small of Egon's back, plant a quick kiss on his mouth and ask him what he was up to, as though he'd done it a hundred times before. Whatever it was, however, must have been the same thing that made Egon respond as though the action was commonplace.
And if it took them a few moments to realize something was a bit different about their interaction that day, well, there was no one around to notice but the two of them.