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The soft sound of rain from outside accompanied the ticking of the wall clock that hung on the other side of the lab.
Furrowing his brows, then tangling his hand into those thick, curly chestnut locks. Grumbling about nothing being able to "reverse the particle flow," of this proton pack.
Taking his hand out of his hair, he reached over to his right. A cup full of; now cold, chamomile tea. His hand grabbed the small cup. Bringing it to his lips, sipping on the cool liquid.
Egon groaned as the pounding of his head made itself apparent. He rubbed his forehead, trying to get ride of the obnoxious headache that had formed.
He took off his glasses, folding the ear frames over and set them down on the table. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the damn headache wasn't going away anytime soon.
Reaching his opposite hand into his hair again, quickly coming up ways he could rid the headache.
He knew that they did have Ibuprofen, Ray often needed it, he would stay up too late reading sometimes. This time, Egon needed it, desperately.
He wanted to finish messing with this proton pack and finally start on a new project. Quite eager to start a new project, honestly.
He pushed the chair away from the table, and pulled his lanky figure up from the chair. He stretched, then twisted; his back popping.
Yawning, he rubbed his temples trying once again to sooth the headache but mumbled as it raged. Feeling quite dizzy and nauseous, he closed his eyes for a moment, the bright lights of the lab not helping at all.
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He slowly opened the lab's door, the lights inside shone. Illuminating the hallway, he saw two other doors.
The bathroom, and a few feet down the hallway lay the sleeping quarters, where Peter, Ray, Winston and you were quietly resting, sighing as he should be inside there with his friends. Tucked inside warm sheets while hearing the rest of the occupants feebly snoring.
Although, the restroom was where the medicine cabinet was located.
Taking long strides over to the door, he pushed it open, a dark room met his gaze.
He ran his hand along the wall, searching for it's light switch. Finally finding it, he flicked it on, the lights blinded him for a temporary moment.
Opening his eyes after tightly closing them, he looked around the small room. Where the sink sat, he strode over to it. The cabinet had a mirror attached to its front.
He saw his reflection, dark bags underneath his chocolate eyes. His chestnut hair all frizzy and messy from him tugging at it. An unpleasant frown plastered on his lips.
Shaking his head, he opened the cabinet, his vision still blurred from the rapid pounding of the nasty headache. He grabbed the first bottle he saw, well, that looked like Ibuprofen.
Pushing down on the cap and twisting it, it clicked and twisted opening with ease. He'd lay the cap aside and poured the bottle's pills into the palm of his hand.
Not really caring about how many he got, he just wanted the headache gone.
Having a handful of pills in his hand, he put them into his mouth. Throwing his head back to make them easier to swallow, he'd drink some water afterwards.
He grabbed a cup from inside the medicine cabinet, turning one of the sinks dials. He filled the small cup with water and threw his head back once again to wash down the pills.
He closed the medicine cabinet, and shut the lights off. He just left the bottle out so he could just come back and get more pills later.
Now back inside the lab, he sat back down near the table he was previously working at.
His headache was finally disappeared, but something replaced it and made itself apparent quickly.
A pool of heat clawed at his insides, eyes widening he grabbed his glasses. Something felt strange about those pills. To reassure himself, he scrambled back into the room.
Furiously switching on the lights, he searched frantically for the bottle, sure enough it was still sitting on the counter.
Fixing his glasses so he could read the bottles label more closely, they rested on the bridge of his nose.
His breath hitched, rereading the bottle serval times.
"Viagra."
These were Peter's pills, and carelessly he had taken a whole handful of them.
How many did he take? Like seven?
What is going to happen to him, a state of hyper arousal?
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He sat back at his desk, trying to ignore the growing anger of the heat in his stomach, it started spreading now.
The most noticeable was the increasing hardness of his cock. He groaned, painfully tightening in his pants made it difficult to focus on the proton pack.
Suddenly, a soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. The door creaked open, you appear in the doorway; leaning against it.
"Egon are you ok? You've been in here an awful long time. Why don't you go to bed for tonight." She said with worry in her voice.
He groaned, refusing to say anything worried what sound would come out of his mouth if he spoke.
Horrified as she came closer, she had a glass of water in her hand. She handed it to him and he reluctantly took it from her. Their hands brushing, he whined from the contact.
She titled her head, studying his features. Sitting on the armrest of the chair, "Egon, come on, go to bed."
Fearing if he would stand up, his tall figure would be unable to hide the tenting in his pants. He nodded his head to her, hoping she would leave soon.
Crossing her arms as she spoke, "I know this trick, you are going to agree. Then I'll leave, and you'll still be here."
He groaned once again, the rage in his stomach only grew. This woman found it amusing to be difficult, that's what he loved about her.
Grabbing her by the wrist and he leaned into her, pressing his lips against hers. Surprisingly, she didn't push him away.
He snaked his hand around her waist, pushing her closer. She reached once of her hands into his hair, tangling them in his curly locks, tugging at his hair.
Deepening the kiss, a deep moan escaped his throat. Reaching down to his plaid flannel pajama pants, he palmed the soft fabric.
His cock hardened, it throbbed. The female came closer, breaking the kiss for a moment, taking a sip of oxygen before kissing him back.
Egon nipped at her bottom lip, slipping his tongue inside. He fought for the dominance, she let him explore.
Moving his hand away from his away from the tent in his pants. His hands snaking underneath her shirt, his cold hands exploring the warm skin.
She pushed away for, looking at his lustful dark eyes. Before pulling off her shirt and unhooking the bra. Hoping onto his lap, he moaned as her hands grazed over his dick.
He lifted her up bridal style, laying her down onto the couch. Laying on top of her, kissing her once more and took his hand and fumbled with her soft breast.
She let out a breathy moan as he tugged at the nipple. Egon broke the kiss and began kissing down her jawline, then her neck. Searching for the soft spot on her neck, he started sucking all over leaving light purple hickeys on the soft skin.
When he found it, she left out a gasp and her hands flew into his hair again, tugging once again. Nipping at the sensitive spot, he pulled away looking down at her with half-lidded eyes, seeing the trail of hickeys he left on her neck.
Reaching down to his pants, he grabbed the rim of them and swiftly pulled them off. His boxers came off along with his pants.
His cock sprang out, the veins seemed to throb and pulse in a mesmerizing way. It seemed painful hard, the tip oozing with sticky precum.
She took her hand and rub it, trailing her fingers up to the tip. Where she took her thumb and caressed the silt on his dick.
Then leaning down and kissing it all over, trailing you're tongue everywhere, the sticky, salty liquid now on the tongue.
He groaned, wanted to feel her on the inside. Slipping your sweatpants and underwear, taking a good look at your throbbing cunt.
Pulling himself on top of you and lining himself up with you, carefully pushing his hot cock inside.
Fried from the warmth of you and your pulsing walls, he steadily went in and out, plunging in at the tip. His hips started to shake after a few moments—mumbling a few curses as a light blush formed on his face.
Quickly, he pulled out, the hot cum spilling all over you, he quickly mumbled an, "I'm sorry," while looking away, trying to avoid your surprised gaze.
He leapt off the couch, grabbed a towel for you, his legs wobbly. He gave you a sheepish smile when he began to put his boxers and pants back on. He threw the towel at you, which you caught.
He began walking away to the lab's exit, saying, "Goodnight, you better get back to bed, love you."