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The feeling of the soft and ragged edges of the cushions underneath him slowly swam back into his consciousness, tickling him awake from his accidental slumber. As he stirred, Ray groaned softly at the crick that would surely make itself known in his back sometime in the near future.
Not quite opening his eyes just yet, he shifted onto his side and waved an arm next to him, fully expecting to softly smack into the warm body of the other to pull him close, but instead met only air and, slowly sliding down the back of the sofa, face-planted directly into the empty seat.
He made a surprised ‘Oomf’ noise as he hit the cushion, and pushed himself up to look around the dusty living room in a groggy daze. Nothing was amiss; It was comfortably warm—the cause of his unintentional nap—a few of the lights were turned on here and there, and the radio, tuned in on its usual station, played on softly in the background. Just the way they’d left things before he dozed off.
It was just that the other person was missing from the scene.
Rubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands, Ray got up and circled through the whole lower floor: Living room, kitchen, hallway. Nothing. Maybe he’s gone up to bed already. It would be highly unusual, he thought as he climbed the old wooden stairs, a hand trailing over the railing as each step creaked under his weight, but it was a possibility. Usually, either Egon was working ‘til far too late in the night, or they went to bed together, but never otherwise. But still, it couldn’t hurt to check—after all, who knew?
Skipping all of the other closed doors he passed by while walking over the landing, he made a beeline for the one all the way at the end of the hallway, as there was really no need to check the others. Those were either empty, or completely stuffed with all kinds of things that they had either happened upon on purchasing the place or things they no longer had any use for, but couldn’t bring themselves to discard, just in case. They were both awful in that aspect.
“Egie?” he breathed in a whisper as he peered his head around the door that was left ajar.
No response. And as his eyes adjusted to the dark of the room, he saw no figure curled up under the covers of the still neatly made bed. No one had even gone to bed yet, let alone gotten up again. He wasn’t—and hadn’t been—here either.
It was only then that he realised it had gotten completely dark out. Yes, the lights had been on when he’d woken up, and to most that would have been a clue, but they always turned the specific ones that had been lit on a few hours before the sun would disappear beyond the fields that stretched out all around them. It was just a thing they did.
“Where’s that goober run off to?” Ray muttered to himself as he turned on his heel, hands on his hips.
The air outside didn’t quite hit him like the rebound of a proton gun, but it was still significantly colder as he stepped over the threshold and onto the porch. The dirt crunched ever so softly under the soles of his shoes as he looked round back, arms crossed to keep just that little bit of extra warmth near. Nothing here, either. The bottles strung to the low-hanging tree branches clinked softly against each other in the light breeze that carried them, rocking them to and fro as he walked past.
Opening the barn door, stepping inside and closing it behind him again, it wasn’t exactly much warmer in here either with all the cracks in the walls and door, not to mention the crooked windowsills and cracked glass. The slight increase in temperature was just enough to be felt, though, and he felt his muscles relax just that tiny little bit under his old cardigan.
Stopping and crouching over by the implemented fire pole that led down through the floor through the man-sized hole, he squinted down into the light coming from below. “Hey, Eegs? You down there?”
He waited with baited breath but, again, no response.
He sighed and pushed himself up onto his feet again, wiping his hands on his jeans to remove any possible clamminess. The light was on, he had to be down there. Because why else would it be?
With a soft “Oh geez”, he slid down the pole and landed—not quite perfectly—on his feet like they’d all done so many times before, back at the firehouse; He still fondly recalled the high, piercing ringing of the alarm sounding out throughout the high building. As he shook out his hands and straightened up carefully he thought they’d really have to install some kind of regular stairs here soon. They really were getting just a little too old for this.
Looking up, his suspicions were confirmed; In the dimmed light of the only lamp that was lit in the entire underground lab, sat Egon. His expression softened at the sight, the corners of his lips tilting upward in adoration. At his cluttered desk littered with equipment and parts and pieces, Egon lay slumped over with his head resting on his arms as a makeshift pillow, his back rising and falling steadily with each breath taken from here was seated on a stool. Walking over, Ray already knew what he’d been working on before he, inevitably, must have fallen asleep, as he’d been working on the same things for weeks, now. Indeed, a trap lay half taken apart in front of the scientist, bolts and screws and metal plates strewn out in front of him, a screwdriver still in hand. The other was splayed out open over a framed picture, one Ray knew to be of a young, smiling Callie in a poofy dress—sporting a proud smile, Egon had shown it to him on multiple occasions, most often when Ray walked in on him looking wistfully at it.
His eyes followed the arm belonging to the particular hand back to marvel some more over the wondrous man in front of him. He traced the soft, white curls in their hairdo that was so uniquely Egon, even to this day, and let his eyes wander down over his relaxed features, the straight nose, the soft beard that Ray thought insanely handsome on him. He tutted when he noticed the glasses horribly askew on the bridge of Egon’s nose, fondly shaking his head as he leaned over and carefully removed them, tucking them into his own breast pocket.
“Oh, Spengs,” he sighed sweetly, looking over him once more.
He turned and strode over to one of the lockers stood by the wall and opened it, reaching up to pull a large blanket from one of the top shelves. Unfolding it, he draped it over Egon’s slumped-over form, who made a soft noise in his sleep and curled into the new-found warmth contentedly as Ray tucked it in around his shoulders. Before leaving him be, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, just above the flushed cheekbone.
Finding himself a spot on an empty crate over to the side, against the wall by the desk, Ray lowered himself down onto it and leaned back, observing the still form of Egon some more with a fondness reserved only for him. He has no idea how long he’s been looking at him like this, and quite frankly, he couldn’t give a damn. With his arms crossed and head bobbing, basking in the comfortable presence of Egon, he nodded off again. Crick in his back be damned.