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There was a heat wave in New York City. Humid warmth permeated the city and its buildings, including the Ghostbusters firehouse. This is what led them to taking it easy for the day, by playing VS Excitebike on the NES.
“C’MON YOU PIECE OF JUNK!” Peter yelled. The blue biker on the small television screen pulled over to the side of the road for the billionth time. The words “OVER HEAT” flashing above it.
Egon watched from the couch, “Peter, spamming the turbo overheats the bike.”
“Hey, no backseating, Egon! If you wanna play, then you can wait your turn- GODDAMMIT!” Peter threw down the NES controller on the rug as Ray pumped his fist in the air.
“WOO! Good game, Pete!”
“Maybe for you. This game sucks anyway.” Peter got up from the floor, “Egon, take over for me, will you? I’m gonna get a drink.”
Egon sat on the floor to the right of Ray and picked up the controller. “How many rounds and laps?”
“Three each. You’re the blue one by the way.”
“I know, I just saw Venkman play.”
Ray smiled sheepishly, “Oh yeah, right.”
The game rang its countdown and the race started. The game was much closer than Ray and Peters’ since Egon actually knew how to play properly. The red and blue biker were never far behind from each other if one of them caught a temporary lead. In the end though, Egon managed to pull ahead and win the first round.
“That was a close one. Good game.” Ray said.
Egon nodded.
The second round started up. Egon got an early lead, until Ray’s biker jumped off the hill and landed on top of Egon’s, The little blue biker fell off and had to run back to his bike.
Ray laughed, “Sorry, Egon!”
Egon hummed in acknowledgement. Winston's voice rang out from the doorway, “Now how is that fair?” Winston sat down on the couch behind the two men. “The little guy got crushed. Where’s the referee?”
Ray beamed, “All is fair in the game of Excitebike.”
Peter finally came back and sat on the couch next to Winston, placing two six packs of beer on the ground. One of the cans was already opened and in his hand. Winston grabbed one as well. The cold beverage was a welcome remedy to the room’s heat.
The round ended with Ray winning and Peter complaining ( “See, he’s totally cheating!” ).
Ray grabbed a beer and took a sip before picking the next track, “This next one is for all the marbles!”
Peter, already bored of being a spectator, “Why don’t you actually bet something?”
Egon turned to Ray, “I don’t have any cash on me.”
Ray looked back at him, “Neither do I.”
Peter rolled his eyes, “Excuses, excuses…”
Egon tapped his thigh for a second, “How about the snack stash?”
Ray’s eyes widened.
Both Winston and Peter looked at Egon confused. Winston asked, “The what?”
“Ray and I have a shared snack stash. He claims that I tend to hog it-”
“Because you do.” Ray added, laughing.
“And I claim that he doesn’t contribute enough to it.”
“I do contribute! You just eat it before I can mention it!”
“Boys, boys!” Peter yelled, “Ignoring the hurtful fact that you two have kept this a secret from Winston and I, this would make a good wager for your race. One sec.” Peter leaned down to grab another beer, opened it, and took a slow sip. Ray rolled his eyes. The game’s track and lap selection screen’s upbeat music filled the silence.
Peter sighed after the satisfactory sip and started, “Okay, here’s the wager: If Ray wins, Egon won’t touch the snack stash for…let’s say a week. And if Egon wins, then Ray won’t touch the stash for a week. How’s that sound?”
At the same time, Ray exclaimed “That’s ridiculous!” and Egon said “Sounds good.”
Ray turned to Egon, lightheartedly offended, “You know how many Ho-Ho’s we have in there? I’ve been saving them all week!”
“I’m sorry Ray, but if winning means I can have the rest of the sour gummy worms, then I‘m willing to make this bet.”
Ray huffed playfully, “I can’t believe this. The bet’s on!” He extended his hand to Egon and they shook on it. Ray turned to the screen and selected the next track and three laps.
Winston smiled and muttered to Peter, “Looks like trouble in paradise…”
The third and final round started. Just like the first round, it was close. Ray and Egon played practically perfectly, until the end. Egon tried to pull ahead at the very last second but ended up using too much turbo, causing his bike to overheat just before the end of the third lap. The reactions were immediate.
“Oh shoot!” Winston exclaimed.
“Ooo you really shouldn’t spam turbo, Egon, it overheats the bike.” Peter said, leaning forward to pat him on the shoulder.
“YES!” Ray shouted as he finished the race.
Egon was silent.
The screen displayed the red biker jumping with his trophy. Ray was beaming as he reached for his beer to take a swig. Peter clapped Ray on the back as he got up, “Well, good game, fellas. How bout we watch some-”
“I want a rematch.” Egon said in his ever-monotone voice.
Ray laughed, “What? No way, I won fair and square!”
“Double or nothing.”
Peter sat back down, “Oh, now this is interesting.”
Egon spoke again, “Loser gives up the stash for two weeks.”
Ray looked at Egon in slight shock but then grinned, “Deal.”
Winston and Peter glanced at each other, doubtful that this would be the only additional deal.
Egon won the game after another three rounds accompanied by some cheap tricks ( “Egon, no pushing!” “They’re just hard pats of encouragement, Peter.” ) and some casualties ( “Ray, your beer fell over!” ).
Ray, who was sweating in the stuffy room, looked to Egon, “Triple or nothing?”
Winston’s eyes widened, “You’re willing to go almost a month without your shared stash?”
Ray ignored him, or maybe didn’t hear him at all, his eyes were zoned in on Egon, waiting for his response.
Egon stared at his blue biker now holding the trophy. He could feel Ray’s intense gaze on him.
“Deal.”
Winston shook his head and stood up, “Alright I’m going to bed before three weeks turns into a year. Make sure they don’t kill each other.”
Peter stretched out and laid on the couch, “Can’t make any promises. G’night Winston.”
Winston mumbled a goodnight and left the room. Ray and Egon were already starting the first round.
Hours passed. No one was sure when things started getting out of hand. Maybe it was when Ray tried to take Egon’s glasses mid-race or when Egon drank one of the beers. It hardly mattered. The deal was currently sitting at a total of six and a half months (they stopped counting by weeks a while ago). Peter had been passed out on the couch for an hour. Ray and Egon sat on the carpet surrounded by empty beer cans, the room illuminated only by the small television.
The screen displayed the red biker holding the trophy once again. Egon tried to turn to Ray but his head felt heavy and fuzzy. He settled on leaning towards him and landing his head on Ray’s shoulder, “How about seven months?”
Ray yawned, “I dunno I think we should stop here…”
His shoulder was hot against Egon’s cheek. Remnants of the heat wave had lasted into the night. Egon would’ve loved to go take a shower, but his stomach twisted at the thought of ending their game, and it wasn't just because of the snacks (although that was definitely a downside). Egon realized that even with the unfavorable weather conditions and his tired body, he was having fun.
“Raymond,” Egon practically sighed out. He grabbed the other man’s arm, his cheek burning against his shoulder, “One more.”
Ray’s body already felt warm from the several beers and room’s temperature, and Egon’s body against him only made it worse. “Spengs it’s late, we should really get to bed.” Ray whispered. He only now realized how sweaty he’d gotten. He gently pushed Egon off his shoulder and saw a sheen of sweat across his face too.
“One more game, Ray. That’ll be it.” If he weren’t tired, he would’ve sounded frantic, “Seven months will be the wager. The loser will have to provide a somewhat constant supply too.”
“Okay, okay, hold on, I can’t- It’s hot in here I need to-” Ray huffed and removed his damp shirt. He threw it down beside him. There was sweat across his torso. His torso and stomach hair, along with the light pink scars underlining his chest, glistened under the TV’s light. He sighed at the cool air hitting his body. “Sorry. So, seven months?”
Egon took a second to respond, his gaze firmly on the floor, “Yes…Give me a second.” Egon removed his vest, then his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and removed it as well. The dark curls on his head mirrored those on his chest, albeit more sparsely. His forearms however, were like a dark matted forest. Ray couldn’t help but stare.
Egon asked, “Deal?” Ray’s eyes trailed down Egon’s arm to his outstretched hand. Ray shook it.
The first round seemed to drag on forever. It didn’t help that both men were borderline exhausted and not entirely sober.
Ray could feel the heat radiating from Egon’s bare skin. It almost felt like they were touching despite the several inches of space. Out of the corner of his eye, Ray noticed Egon kept glancing at him. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t help the insecure knot in his gut.
At the end of the first round, Ray was victorious. He sighed a little in relief. He was one round closer to winning this stupid deal and finally going to bed. He selected the track and put three laps for the next round. “Ready?” He glanced over at Egon, who was already staring at him.
Egon blinked and cleared his throat, “Yes- well actually, one second-“ He started to shimmy out of his slacks. Ray’s eyes widened momentarily and Egon said, “Sorry, it’s hard to focus on the game when my body is sweating profusely.” Ray nodded and suddenly became aware of how hot his own sweatpants were against his thighs. He moved to remove them as well.
After they got resettled, Ray started up the second round. It wasn’t until they were already on the second lap that Ray realized how close he and Egon were now sitting. They sat with their legs crossed, knees touching. Their arms occasionally grazed against each other. Neither of them felt compelled to move though. Ray told himself it was because of their focus on the game.
On the third lap, Egon’s biker cut off and hit Ray. As the blue biker drove past the fallen red one, Egon quickly leaned his head near Ray’s ear and whispered, “Sorry.”
The back of Ray’s neck tingled and suddenly he couldn’t quite remember how to play the game. His fingers seemed to slip across the controller’s d-pad. He tried to control his breathing.
Egon ended up winning that round.
The track and lap selection screen came up again, for what would presumably be the last time that night. Ray rubbed his eyes and yawned as he stretched his arms straight up. Egon was looking at him. Usually Egon didn’t care much if his staring was considered rude, but when it came to looking at Ray’s body, something felt different. It was the way Egon felt while looking at him. The only way he could describe it is that he felt like he was drowning—he couldn’t breath, his head felt woozy, something in him burned. Dimly he realized this feeling was what most considered arousal. It was a relatively foreign sensation for Egon, and it made him feel guilty. Guilty because Ray had no idea, guilty because he didn’t want it to stop.
Egon continued to stare at Ray even after he finished stretching.
Nervous and not really thinking straight, Ray joked, “See something you like?”
Egon wanted to be truthful, to plead guilty to the court of Ray. To court Ray, the back of his mind cut in.
Startled by it, he tried to say something, but it sounded more like a grunt.
“What?” Ray asked. He blamed his comment for making things awkward.
Egon cleared his throat, “Let’s start the next round.”
“Oh. Right.”
And so they did.
The first lap started out pretty normal, until Egon started to slow down and his bike came to a stop.
Ray noticed, “Hey, why’d you stop?” He glanced at Egon and saw that he had completely abandoned his controller on the floor in front of him. His head was facing Ray.
Ray’s nervousness only increased as he looked at Egon: his hair stuck to his head with sweat, skin shiny in the TV’s light. Vaguely he considered that it was kind of gross that they were both so sweaty, but the rest of Ray’s mind did not care at the moment.
A deep voice startled Ray out of his thoughts, “I can’t.”
“What?” Ray asked, baffled.
Egon struggled to speak, “I…I can’t think. And,” He closed his eyes, “It’s bad.”
Concern flooded Ray’s tone, “You okay, Spengs? What’s wrong?”
Egon turned his whole body to face Ray. He folded his hands in his lap to hide their trembling, “You’re…” He scrambled for a word, then spit out, “Hot.”
“Hot?” Ray’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh no, are you overheating? Egon-“
“No. Not that kind...” He trailed off.
After a second, Ray’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He knew what Egon meant now, but it still didn’t make sense.
Ray spoke slowly, “You can’t think, because I’m…attractive?”
Egon nodded once, looking Ray seriously in the eyes.
He almost laughed, “Well thanks? That’s pretty flattering. You’re not too bad yourself y’know.” Ray smiled, his cheeks considerably warmer now.
Egon hummed, “I want to pinpoint what it is about you that’s affecting me so strongly.” He lifted a hand near Ray’s upper arm, “May I?”
The situation felt so ridiculous that Ray thought he must have fallen asleep halfway through their game. Although the heat in his face and his hammering heart felt real enough to Ray.
Somehow, Ray managed to mutter, “Yeah, sure. Go for it.”
Like he was processing what Ray said, Egon sat and stared at him. And then, finally, he moved.
Tentatively, he reached his left hand out and placed it on Ray’s shoulder.
Ray simply looked at Egon, taking in his almost nervous expression. Egon glanced at his eyes and then quickly looked at the television.
“Aren’t you going to finish the game, Ray?”
“Huh?” Ray looked at the screen.
“The game. Someone has to win.”
“Right, yeah.”
Ray’s shaking hands managed to grip the controller and continue playing. Although it was much harder to focus in his current situation.
As Ray played, Egon’s hands explored. His left hand mostly stayed on his shoulder, lightly rubbing up and down his arm. His right hand traced along Ray’s shoulder to his collarbone. His thumb brushed against the front of his neck and Ray had to suppress a shudder. Gaining more confidence, Egon moved his right hand down to his chest, running it through the brown hair that crowded it.
Ray couldn’t suppress his shudder and he let out a breath. Egon paused for a second before continuing. Ray could barely play the game properly—he messed up several times which made him take longer than usual to finish the first lap.
Egon’s hand moved methodically, as if trying to calculate the slopes of the curves of his chest or to memorize and map out his chest hair. He even traced a finger along his scars and Ray’s face simmered. A brush across one of Ray’s nipples made Ray almost drop his controller.
Egon paused. Then he asked quietly, “You have…erogenous sensation in them?”
Ray laughed softly, endeared by how Egon practiced professionalism, even when he was acting considerably unprofessional. “Yeah, kind of. It’s uh, mostly in my right one.”
“I see.”
Curiously, Egon gave all his attention to his right nipple, mostly by rubbing light circles. Ray sighed through his nose and tried his best to focus on the game—he was almost done with the second lap. But then Egon took the pink bud between his fingers, gently pinching it. Ray’s breath hitched and he bit his tongue to keep quiet.
His head felt fuzzy and his boxers felt slightly damp by the time he was finished with the second lap.
Egon’s hand soon moved away from his chest and Ray didn’t know whether to be disappointed or grateful. His hand rubbed across Ray’s stomach a few times. Part of Ray felt a little embarrassed—he’d been teased about his weight before—but the way Egon’s hands brushed almost reverently against him made Ray more flattered than ashamed.
It was when Ray was about halfway through the third lap when Egon's hand jumped from his stomach to his thigh. Ray held his breath, gripping the controller with a little more force. His hand stayed closer to his knee rather than where his white boxer-briefs ended. Then suddenly, Egon rubbed his thigh and his hand moved up to the end of his boxers. He slipped his thumb under the hem briefly and Ray moaned softly. He bit his tongue—he’d never gotten this worked up so quickly before.
The noise had stunned Egon, his hand stopped moving.
Ray put down the controller and turned to face Egon. His face was flushed and his mouth was slightly open in awe at the sound Ray made.
Ray cupped Egon’s face and closed the distance between them with a kiss. It was not chaste by any means. Their mouths were hot against each other, trying to take in the other as if they would disappear the moment they stopped. Ray felt so lightheaded he thought he might pass out, it seemed all the blood from his brain had migrated south. Egon groaned into Ray’s mouth and instinctively gripped his thigh.
Suddenly, Peter let out a loud snort in his soft snoring. Ray and Egon pulled away immediately and looked at him, but the only further sound was their own heartbeats in their ears.
After a few seconds, Ray let out a quiet laugh and whispered, “I completely forgot he was there.”
“So did I.” They smiled at each other, suddenly shy.
Ray asked hesitantly, “So uh- do you wanna maybe shower together?”
“Shower?” Egon almost sighed.
“Yeah. I mean, we are both pretty sweaty and it would be a good chance to…continue what we were doing- I mean if you wanted to continue, that is.”
Egon let out a shaky breath and nodded, “Right, yes, I do.” He glanced back at the television, “What about the game?”
“How ‘bout we call it a draw?”
Egon’s shoulders relaxed and he reached out his hand, “Deal.”
“Deal.” Ray smiled and took Egon’s hand in his, shook it, and then helped him up. They both groaned slightly at how sore their limbs were from sitting for so long.
Egon turned off the NES and the television. Then he walked hand-in-hand with Ray through the dark firehouse to the shower, with something fluttering in his chest and the ghost of a smile on his lips.
–
Peter woke up with an ebbing pain in his head and back. He groaned as he sat up on the couch and looked around the sunlit room. His eyes froze on the two piles of clothes and empty beer cans on the floor. The gears turned in his groggy mind and suddenly he shouted,
“SERIOUSLY YOU TWO?! WHILE I WAS SLEEPING?!”