Peter looked back at Egon perched on the living room couch. "I thought we'd watch a movie." He slipped a tape into the VCR before sitting next to Egon.
Egon looked at Peter assessingly. "And that's why you got Winston and Ray out of the firehouse?"
"I did no such thing. Winston is painting his sister's nursery, and Ray is at a comic book convention." A very small convention. Peter grabbed some popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table.
Egon scooped himself a handful of popcorn and started eating it a kernel at a time. He looked over at Peter as the opening credits continued. "Short Circuit?"
"Give it chance." Peter peeked over, anxious. He relaxed as Egon got caught up with the robot flicking on and off the lights. Peter kept one eye on the screen but focused mostly on Egon. Peter slid closer to the taller man as the plot started falling into place.
The first car chase started. "Did they slow down archival footage of Ray?"
"Be a fast movie otherwise. And expensive." Peter snickered and chuckled at the movie, smiling at Egon's reactions. The robot tried to stop the security forces at the marina. "Ah, there's where the budget went."
They both quieted as the fight ended. Bad Guys-1, Good Guys-0. Peter judged how much movie he had left and tried deciding when he should start deploying his arm across the back of the couch.
His first attempt was badly scripted, which he should have expected from disco. He'd probably not seen Saturday Night Fever a few times in grad school. "Ah, so that's Ray's culinary secret." Peter regrouped during the next couple of scenes. His second attempt of arm wrapping went better, though robotic mayhem wasn't part of his plan.
As the hot pursuit became vehicular, Egon turned to look Peter in the eye, only to have his question discouraged on his lips. The kiss was gentle and Peter turned back to the movie. Egon observed Peter, still ensconced in his arm.
Peter split his attention between the movie, and Egon watching the movie. Egon's intense pondering of the robot's argument of its life distracted Peter.
"Is the implication that Newton is barely alive himself?" Peter turned to reply but dialogue followed the laughter. Peter resumed his plan as the human leads had their own spontaneous emotional response.
Egon kept one eye on the screen even as their kiss continued quite satisfactorily, if confusingly, into the next scene. He almost didn't signal to Peter when the convoy footage finished. He noticed that Peter wasn't particularly focused on the screen when they resumed watching the movie.
"They blew it up." Peter looked at Egon staring at the screen as the 'troops' whooped it up and carried off the robot bits. They watched together as the leads drove away.
"'Great idea!'" Egon boggled when the robot peeked up from the clutter in the back of the van. Though not as much as when Peter kissed him very thoroughly while the credits rolled, pushing him further into the couch. Egon's hands slid over Peter's back encouragingly.
Peter pulled away before he could forget they were on the living room couch. "You look as perplexed as Number Five."
"Johnny." Egon sat up, his features collected except for the flush on his lips. "An interesting movie, though not one arousing great passions." He lifted the remote and pushed stop and eject. "I cannot conjecture why you'd want a movie as a distraction." Egon moved to stand.
Peter gripped a shoulder, shaking his head. "It's called making out." He looked Egon in the eye. "The movie was something to do together. Not work-related."
"We do."
Peter blinked. "Not just as friends and not just in the sack. Much as I love both of those." He slid his hand down Egon's arm and along his leg. "Sometimes pursuit is as much fun as catching. Not knowing how things are going to play. I like making out."
Egon looked Peter over before wrapping his arm around him, long fingers stroking along the bicep. He relaxed further into the hug as Peter joined in, moving his hand from Egon's thigh to his ribs. Sitting that way for long minutes, he turned and kissed Peter's jaw.
Peter turned his head, catching Egon's mouth before he could retreat. Peppering short kisses, Peter skirted his hands over Egon teasingly. He mumbled appreciatively as Egon's tentative forays became surer in their whisper touches.
Egon noted to himself not to eat any more of the popcorn, seeing a green hand rooting around in the bowl from under the coffee table.
The End.