Egon opened the door and froze at that sight that met his eyes. Mirth overtook him and he laughed out loud, prompting a few companionable chuckles from his lover.

"So, Spengs, you like?" Peter said mock-innocently around the sprig of mistletoe clenched between his teeth.

Shaking his head, Egon collapsed to his knees and gasped for breath. Peter was lying in a middle of their bed with a sprig of mistletoe between his teeth and a Santa hat on his head -- naked.

Grinning smugly, Peter wiggled his eyebrows and said, "Come and unwrap your present."

Egon snorted, wiped at his eyes and walked over to his lover. He reached down to take the mistletoe from Peter's lips and examine it. "Thank God you got the non-poisonous variety, Dr. Venkman," he said before tracing a path with the herb from the hollow of Peter's throat to his navel. He circled that teasingly before pouncing on top of his lover with a throaty chuckle.

"Peter, you always come up with the most...interesting ideas." He wrapped his arms around the man in question tightly, buried his face against his throat and rumbled one last laugh.

"Only the best for you, Spengs," Peter whispered teasingly.

Egon fixed Peter with a gaze full of humor and affection. "You look rather...foolish, Peter." He chuckled.

"Huh!" Peter griped. "And this is the thanks I..."

Peter never had a chance to finish. He didn't mind. By the time he got Egon's clothes off, they were tangled in the sheets and laughing like children.

Peter leaned up to lick and suck on his lover's collarbone. Egon smiled, as their exertions so far had not managed to knock Peter's hat off -- it was slightly askew, giving him a rakish look, but it was still atop his head. Egon chuckled and rolled them to their sides, capturing Peter's mouth for a searing kiss.

Hands began roving, Peter's rubbing Egon's back, Egon's hands roaming over Peter's chest and pinching his nipples hard enough to make Peter groan.

"Mmm, you taste so good, Peter," Egon moaning, nibbling on the dark-haired man's ear.

"Thanks, Spengs, but could you please fuck me!" Peter shouted, frustrated beyond belief.

"I will need to get the lubricant first, P--" Egon started.

"I already did it," Peter interrupted him, a blush staining his cheeks. "Prepared myself, that is."

Egon's eyebrows rose and he traced a finger down Peter's chest, circling around his nipple and navel along the way. He bypassed his lover's straining cock and stroked down Peter's cleft, circling around the psychologist's slick hole. He carefully inserted his index finger into Peter's ass, unerringly hitting his lover's prostate.

Peter yelped. "Egon, come *on*!" he begged, pushing back onto his lover's hand.

"Be at ease, Peter, I will give you what you want," Egon said as he slid all the way inside his lover in one smooth stroke. He paused a moment to fight off the need to cum right then, then began thrusting in a slow tempo, grunting as Peter slammed back against him hard; apparently Peter wasn't willing to wait. That was good, neither was he; he'd just been holding back for Peter's sake.

Egon's body moved faster now, leaning back slightly to give room for his lover to move. And move Peter did, leaning up to nip, and kiss, and once to grab a mouthful of skin and tug. Peter grabbed onto Egon's back, fingers slipping for purchase on skin. Finally, with a desperate groan, he draped one leg over Egon's, and pulled himself as close as he could, encouraging Egon to fuck him hard. Egon complied, moaning loudly into Peter's mouth at the sensations flooding his groin.

Peter's groans smoothed out into harsh pants, now intermingled with the panting above him, each being lost again as sound was swallowed into more kisses, returning with more harsh whispers, more panting pleas for something, more, or simply echoes of one or the other's name.

Egon managed to nearly say Peter's name, once, before Peter gave a cry. For a second both bodies froze before Peter was writhing beneath Egon, and Egon was thrusting hard into his lover. Hands clenched skin, legs wrapped tightly around each other, bodies moving together as if in an erotic, almost violent dance.

A long, tortured wail began, and Peter tensed, throwing his head back as he came. Egon wrapped his right hand around Peter's arm and held on, whispering words of love, words of encouragement and endearment. When Peter screamed Egon's name, all motion seemed frozen. One on top of the other, only their hips moving, thrusting the last few times, the trembling of thigh muscles as Egon held himself up and drove himself down, the rhythmic clutching of Peter's long fingers around his lover's arms.

Another shattered cry, and Egon collapsed, his brain melted. If you'd asked him to add two plus two together, he would not even have understood the question.

Egon landed on top of his lover, who moved as bonelessly as he, though Peter collected him well enough to hold him in place, curling around him. There was a gasp for air, and a whispered 'oh', then, as quickly as they had begun, they fell into stillness.

"Merry Christmas, Egon," Peter said softly.

Egon opened half-lidded eyes and purred, "Merry Christmas, Peter. I'll have to come up with something special for New Year's."

"I'm looking forward to it, Spengs," Peter said before snuggling against the physicist.

Egon wrapped his arms around his lover and held on tight, falling asleep in love's arms.