Title: Just One Kiss V3.3

Author: Derien Nada

Fandom: Real Ghostbusters

Pairing: Ray/Winston

Rating: PG (two m/m kisses and some harsh language)

Warnings: Don't read this if you're squicked by male/male kisses or by cartoon characters 
being treated like 'real' characters.  If you continue past this point and are 
traumatized, don't come crying to me.

Summary: Winston and Ray discuss why they can't get and keep relationships.

Disclaimers: I'm playing in the big boy's sandbox, I don't own these characters, but I 
certainly won't make any money off this.  (Unless it inspires some kind millionaire to 
support me so I can write for the rest of my life.)

Author's Notes:  Many thanks to Eor, Lethe, Tani, Ora and Ami for their multiple and 
partial read-throughs, kind words and feedback - especially the harsh feedback.;)  
Extra thanks to Eor for poking me with a pointy stick about background details.  And 
more thanks to Lethe for giving me the inspiration for this story in her "Turbulence." 
(In that story Winston talks about soldiers in Viet Nam who developed relationships 
with each other based on the bonds of trust formed in combat.)  My title is from a song
lyric, but this isn't song-fic.  I chose the lyric because the song is somewhat empathic 
with some aspects of Ray's mindset, I like it, and it's from the era the story is set 
in.

Day after day 
I will walk and I will pray 
but the day after today 
I will stop 
and I will start 
why can't I get just one kiss 
why can't I get just one kiss 
believe me there'd be some things that I wouldn't miss 
but I look at your pants and I need a kiss 

 --'Add It Up,' Violent Femmes


* * * * * * * * * * * 


Winston picked up the remote control and flipped the TV on as he settled into the 
battered couch.  He nudged the coffee table to give his long legs more room to stretch 
out, and sighed.  Peter and Egon had left only an hour before to spend the weekend at 
Egon's mother's house.  In moments Ray would be gone too - some kind of convention; 
comics or sci-fi, Winston couldn't remember which this one was.  Then Winston would 
have the firehouse to himself for the rest of the weekend.  Two full days to be alone 
and feel lonely.  Two full days to get in some serious moping time.  Nobody to attempt 
cheering him up, nobody to drag down with him.  

Ray drifted into the livingroom of the firehouse quietly, completely unlike his usual 
exuberant self.  "Winston, I was thinking."  He scrubbed a hand across his hair, then 
squared his shoulders.  "Maybe we should go out for a beer down at Sal's.  We could 
play pool."

Winston leaned his head back on the couch, closing his eyes and flipped the television 
off.  "Ray, m'man, I'm beat, I was going to take it easy and turn in early...." he 
began.  Oh hell, he should just face it.  Ray always got his way in the end.  It was 
the damned big brown puppy-dog eyes.  He opened his eyes and saw the concern in his 
friend's round, freckled face.  The puppy-dog eyes hadn't started yet, but they were 
on their way.  "Okay, sure.  We'll go out."  

Ray gave him a tentative smile.  

Winston's most recent girlfriend had dumped him on Monday, and since then he had been 
withdrawing into television or working on the cars, conversing at the bare minimum 
required.  He knew it was worrying Ray, who always wanted his friends to be happy, and 
knew he should drag himself out of his funk, but he just didn't have the ambition at 
the moment.  "I can go through the motions," he thought, "to make Ray feel better.  It 
might even help me."  Although he couldn't see how anything would help in the long run.
Aside from making a change in his life which he really didn't want to make right now.

After he'd whupped Ray at a game of pool and had three beers, he began to think he 
could attempt to discuss it, if only to make Ray feel like he hadn't wasted his time.  
They gave up the pool table and settled in a booth.  Condensation rings from the 
previous customers shone under the drop light which pointed directly down onto the 
table.  Winston made a swipe at them with the ridiculously small bar napkin, soaking 
it instantly.  

"Look, Ray, I'm sorry I've been so quiet.  I guess I'd gotten pretty serious about 
Claire.  I was really thinking, maybe this time....  Well, I'm not getting any 
younger, and I've always kind of expected that I'd have a family some day."

"What happened with her, Winston?  I thought things were going really well, you guys 
seemed perfect for each other."  

"She said it was because I was always breaking dates.  You know how crazy it can get 
sometimes.  Busts run long or emergencies come up.  But she's not the first woman 
who's accused me of being married to the job.  We all are - we live where we work, 
we're together all the time.  It makes keeping up a relationship pretty near 
impossible.  If I ever want to have kids...  I've been thinking, this past week.  
Something might have to go."  He looked up from his beer and saw Ray's distress.  
"I - "

"No, uh.  I know.  You really like kids.  You're good with them.  Your nieces and 
nephews all love you.  I know you've always wanted to be a dad." 

"Shit, I don't want to leave the team.  I don't.  You guys are like family.  Maybe 
something else has to give.  Like the dream of raising kids."  

Ray picked intently at a small imperfection in the finish of the table.  He looked 
like he could start crying any second, and knowing Ray that wasn't out of the 
question.  

Winston stared into his beer and watched the bubbles rise.  This was exactly the scene 
Winston had hoped to avoid by having the weekend alone.  Ray's unguardedly emotional 
reaction to things often swayed others choices, particularly Winston's, to match what 
Ray wanted.  

Ray blinked rapidly and looked up to meet Winston's eyes.  "I want you to be happy," 
he said.  "I mean, we all want that.  You're our friend."

No matter what Ray felt, he would back up any decision Winston made; Winston didn't 
have to think about that, he knew it.  "Maybe I should just be happy with being an 
uncle.  I'm a good uncle.  I dunno.  I wish I could just find a woman who could handle 
the fact that this is the job I've got, the life I've got, and deal with it."   

"Well, Janine would understand."

"Uh-huh.  Maybe, maybe not.  Women can be different about a guy they're actually 
involved with.  But Miz Melnitz is...  She's a good kid, but I can't imagine what it'd 
be like to have to deal with her ALL the time."

"She's really nice," said Ray, softly. 

"Yeah, she is, but just kind of hyper.  Or maybe *you* wouldn't notice that."  He gave 
Ray a small, fond smile.  "No, it's not so much that, because I can deal with that in 
you.  I think that's because I can also sit down and talk with you.  We can work out 
our differences, or agree to disagree.  I don't see Janine doing that."  

"You're a smart guy.  If you've got something to say you've usually given it some 
thought.  I'm interested to hear your opinion."

"See, yeah.  I appreciate that, Ray.  It's one of the major reasons I like hanging 
around you."

"But..." Ray blushed, smiled, then looked down at the table.  "Um, thanks."  He 
squirmed and looking up again, said very earnestly, "To be fair to Janine, I'm sure 
she could probably do that, but she might have a different style about it.  Or... something."

Winston grinned.  "Anyway, you ever seen me go out with a woman *that* skinny?"  

"There was that girl, Malika."

"No, she had narrow hips and a pot belly, she wasn't really thin."

"Well."  Ray paused.  "I... I was just thinking that it's nice you know..." Ray's eyes 
dropped and he traced lines in the puddles on the table, "It's nice for Peter and 
Egon.  They're always worrying about each other, but they get to spend lots of time 
together and be there to take care of each other."

"Yeah.  Maybe we should hire a couple of women so we can date someone who'll know what 
the job is all about."

Ray's mouth quirked uncertainly.  "Have you gotten used to them being together?  I 
know it made you a little uncomfortable at first.  You tried hard not to show it, and 
I think they were happy you were willing to try.  But lately you seem okay with it."

"I've gotten more used to it.  I'm sorry it showed that I was uncomfortable.  It's 
just that I never was around that kind of thing before.  Didn't see guys who were 
involved with each other day in, day out, just hanging together and all.  Now it 
seems almost natural."

"I think it is natural."

"What I meant was, they're pretty much like they always were, just a little more 
kissy-face with each other."

"Okay.  I was afraid that maybe, deep down, you really felt it was not okay.  That 
maybe you were doing a Hate the Sin, Love the Sinner thing."

"No.  I think I outgrew those notions shortly after high school.   When I got into 
reading the classics and history, and read about the lives of my favorite authors.  
Turned out most of them were gay.  Including, it seems, Herman Melville."

"You mean, like, "Moby Dick"?  That Herman Melville?  Seriously?"

"Yeah.  Seriously."

"No kidding.  Hey, that makes a lot of sense.  So that whole scene where Ishmael and 
Queequeg were 'playing' under the blankets...?  Wow."

Winston chuckled.  "He probably didn't intend to write those connotations in, because 
it really was not cool for queers in those days.  They might as well have been Black.  
Anyway, I'm used to Peter and Egon, now.  But I guess I do still kind of wonder what 
might happen if they had a real fight or broke up."

"I don't think anything much would happen, really.  They were good friends for years, 
I think they could break up and still know how to be friends."

Winston privately thought that Peter and Egon might not behave nearly as well if Ray 
wasn't around.  But as long as he was they would do their utmost to live up to his 
expectations.  His unshakable high regard could do that to a person.

"I mean," Ray looked at Winston intently, "I can disagree with you but still care 
about you.  The friendship is more important than anything else."

A warning bell rang in Winston's mind.  Ray was trying to divine something from 
Winston's reactions, there was something he wanted to know but didn't want to ask.  
What was it?  He was certain it was something about their friendship.  Perhaps Ray  
wanted reassurance, but Winston needed to be honest as well.  "Ray, I don't know what 
I'll decide.  It could be that I do have to leave the team.  But no matter what 
happens you know you'll always be a good friend.  Nothing will change that."

Ray slumped.  "I think I'm tired.  Are you ready to go?"

"Sure, no problem."  Obviously he'd guessed wrong.  He slid out of the booth, and as 
Ray stood up Winston attempted to reassure him again with a pat on the shoulder.  That 
earned him a weak, uncertain smile.

They settled up their last drinks and stepped out into the warm night.  It wasn't a 
long walk back to the firehouse, and Ray didn't speak at all.  He watched the ground 
as if he were afraid he'd fall over his own feet.  As soon as he climbed up the stairs 
from the garage he went straight to the livingroom, where he plunked onto the couch 
in front of the TV, but didn't even reach for the remote.  Winston sighed, mentally.  
This was always a potential danger of Ray trying to cheer him up - Ray could usually 
override a bad mood with his natural optimism, but if the mood got the slightest bit 
of a hold on him it could drag him down badly.  The good thing was that he could 
usually bounce back quickly.  "Hey, let's go up to the roof, Ray.  I'll grab us a few 
more beers."  

"Yeah.  Okay."  

In the kitchen Winston flipped on the fluorescents, winced, and dug into the fridge.  
No beer, only wine.  Something of Egon's no doubt, and probably expensive, but he'd 
worry about that later.  He pulled the cork and headed up to the roof.  

Ray was standing hunched in on himself, arms folded, although the evening was still 
warm.

"Couldn't find any beer," said Winston to his silent back, "But this looked okay.  
It's got alcohol in it."  Winston took a swig from the bottle and then stepped over 
next to Ray, who didn't respond.  "Come on, man."  Winston gently bumped his upper 
arm against Ray's shoulder and offered the bottle over.  

Ray wiped at his face and turned to Winston.  "Winston, I...  I don't want you to 
leave.  I know if you have to, I want you to be happy, but-"  He threw his arms 
around Winston.  This was not an unusual occurrence, Ray being a compulsive hugger.  
But Winston, with one arm around Ray and the other occupied with hanging onto the 
wine bottle, did not expect the hand which Ray slid up the back of his head, pulling 
his head down.  He was completely surprised when his friend tipped his own head a 
little back and sideways, and drew their faces close together, until their lips 
touched.  His surprise made him recoil.

"Ray!?" 

Ray's pale, round face gleamed up at him, turning red.  "Sorry!  OhshitI'msorry!"  He 
took a step back and looked as if he couldn't decide to run or attempt to just drop 
dead, but couldn't take his eyes off Winston for long enough to do either.  Winston 
quickly snagged Ray's wrist to keep him from running.  He pushed the bottle into his 
hand and gestured to Ray to drink.  Ray drank, then handed the wine back, his 
expression blank.

"Uh, are you sure that's you in there, Ray?"

"Huh?"

"Well, you know, we always have to be aware of things like possession in this 
business.  Are you sure you're my buddy Ray?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, of course I am, you know I am."  Ray dropped his eyes and slumped.  
"Maybe it would be easier to try to pretend I'm not.  Sure, that's it, I was 
possessed."  He forced out a little breath which sounded as if it had been intended 
to be a chuckle.

"Sit down, Ray."

Ray dropped into the nearest lawn chair as if his legs had given way, and sat staring 
at his hands.  The short lawn chair put his knees almost at eye level, and his hands 
rested on them; square, short fingered, clever and capable, and, for the moment, 
still.  Winston pulled the other chair a little closer and sat, also looking at Ray's 
hands.  He took a drink from the wine and offered it back to Ray.

"Um, Ray.  You surprised me."

"Sorry," he said, very meek.  He glanced quickly at Winston from the corner of his 
eye, and looked down again, then took the wine and drank.  "I really am, I shouldn't 
have done that."

Winston received the bottle, but set it down for the moment.  "You look like you think 
I'm going to hit you.  You know I wouldn't do that, don't you?"

Surprised, Ray met his eyes full on and guileless.  "Gosh, of course.  You could swat 
me like a fly, but I know you wouldn't.  I just..."  He looked down again.  "Well, I 
put you in an uncomfortable position, and that wasn't fair of me.  I mean, when Egon 
and Peter got together you and I both said 'well, fine for them, but that's not my 
thing.'  I meant it, too, it's not.  I like girls.  But they go out with me a couple 
of times and then decide I'm a great friend but they don't want to be involved with 
me in *that* way.  I don't know, is it me?  It must be."

"Shit."  Winston picked up the wine and took another swig, then passed it to Ray, who 
took it but held it listlessly.  "No, it's not you, m'man, you're a great guy."  He 
suddenly felt like a complete asshole for being depressed about Claire dumping him.  
At least he'd had a few good months with her, and before her with Yolanda.  "But you 
can't think that you're going to turn to guys just because some women turned you down. 
 I mean, the right woman must be out there for you.  One who's smart and realizes 
you're a great guy."

"No.  No, it's not like that at all."  Ray tipped the bottle up to his mouth, held the 
wine in his mouth before swallowing, observing the wine in the bottle.  He took another 
drink, gazed out over the rooftops, and finally said, quietly.  "Not that I didn't 
think about it.  It did cross my mind, but when I ... well, I did some research."

"Research?"

Ray set the bottle down carefully within Winston's reach without looking at him.  
"Research.  I got some magazines."  He picked at the seam of his jeans.  "And all that 
told me was ...  well, I guess it told me what I already knew.  I didn't find pictures 
of guys all that interesting.  But I never was all that interested in nude photos of 
women.  I mean, interested, but not nearly as interested as some people seem to be.  
Like Peter."

"But look how it turned out with him."  Winston took his turn with the bottle, and 
made it a point to put it in Ray's hand.  "He ended up giving me his subscription 
to Playboy because he hasn't bothered to look at it in three months."  

"Yeah.  He was so into his magazines before, but now he's with Egon he hasn't got time 
for them.  He didn't even offer me his subscription."  Ray took another drink from the 
bottle.  "What is this stuff?  God it's horrible.  Must be expensive.  We'll have to 
buy Egon more."  He took another drink.  "Photos.  Photos are abstract.  I want a 
whole..." He tried to wave his hands in a kind of amorphous three-dimensional shape, 
set the bottle down between them and tried again.  "Thing.  To know a person."

"Yeah, I can see that.  You want to be in love."

Ray nodded, and continued carefully inspecting his jeans.  "Maybe.  Something like 
that.  I'm not sure if 'In Love' is exactly necessary, but... someone I love.  And I 
think it's just not as important to me exactly what they ...look like.  What ...body 
they're in.  You know?"  

"Oh."  Winston picked up the wine bottle and drank again.  He thought he saw where 
this was going now.

Ray squirmed in his slouchy lawn chair and gave him a sideways look.  "It's just that 
the thought of you leaving...  It scared me.  I'd miss you so much.  And I just... I 
hadn't before and when I thought you might be considering leaving it occurred to me 
that I might not get another chance."

Suddenly Winston understood why women kept turning Ray down.  It was terrifying to be 
faced with such a caring, loyal, and seemingly naive person, offering you a position 
in his life where you could potentially demolish him.  If that was what he was 
offering.  That would be a really bad mistake to make.  It could have been a moment of 
temporary insanity on his part; shouldn't hold a man to something he did rashly.  "No, 
wait," he thought to himself, "Ray is impulsive, but not rash.  He did *research* for 
heaven sake.  And that is so like him."  

He smiled despite himself as he set the wine bottle back down between them.  Then he 
realized Ray was watching him curiously.

So Winston grinned.  "You did research?"  

Ray chuckled, one short bashful noise.  "Yes.  And I noted that the only pictures I 
was interested in were ones which looked like people I cared about.  And the people I 
care most about in the world are you, Peter and Egon.  When I realized that, I 
stopped looking at the pictures.  I didn't want to be thinking about you if you didn't 
want me to."

Typical of Ray - not wanting to do anything his friend might be uncomfortable with, 
even in the privacy of his own head.   Damn, the guy was... "Think it, man; you can at 
least think the word.  He's sweet."

"Ray.  Forgive me being blunt, here."

"Sure."

"But are you really thinking what I'm thinking you're thinking?"

"I think so."

"Peter and Egon... me and you?"  

"Yeah.  That would be.... yeah.  It has a kind of symmetry to it, doesn't it?  And it 
would solve some problems."  

"That's a pretty cold way of thinking about it."

"Cold?" Ray looked distressed.    

"Well, just the idea of starting a relationship because it would solve the problem of 
finding relationships."  

"You know that's not how I'm feeling."  

"Yeah.  I do.  Cold is the last thing you ever are.  You're just trying to be careful. 
To me.  Which is how you are.  You know this is a lot for me to absorb all at once."

"Yeah.  All I'm asking for now is that you think about it.  Take all the time you 
need."

"Thanks.  I will need some time.  It's something I've never considered before."  

Ray nodded, picked up the bottle and drank again as he stood up.  "Um, listen.  I 
could still go to the convention tonight, if you'd feel more comfortable."  

"That's on?  I thought I had the wrong weekend."  Winston accepted the wine back as 
he stood, drank once more and recorked what remained.

"It's this weekend.  I stayed to talk to you, because you seemed so upset.  But, 
well, I know I can still get in at the hotel - there will be people I know who will 
let me crash on a floor.  And I'm thinking I won't get much sleep if... if I have to 
sleep in the bunk room tonight."  

"It's late for you to be going out.  But yeah, you're right, maybe it would be best." 
 He could see Ray was trying to do the right thing and remove himself so that Winston 
could think without distraction.  "You're a good guy, Ray.  The best."

Ray shuffled his feet, looked at the door off the roof, looked back up at Winston, 
then took a deep breath and asked, "Before I go... is there any chance I could get 
one kiss that isn't stolen?"  

"Uh...  I..."

"No, I'm pushing you, I said I wouldn't do that."  

"Now, Ray, just..."  He'd never had the willpower to tell Ray he couldn't have 
anything he wanted, so he set the wine-bottle down.  "Can we make it a small one?"  
The look of excited disbelief which glowed on Ray's face drew a smile to Winston's 
face as well.  He added, "I guess I should have an idea about what I'm deciding on." 

Ray couldn't contain himself, he bounced to Winston and threw his arms around him in 
a tight hug, pressing his head against Winston's shoulder for a moment before pulling 
back a little to look up.  

As Winston lowered his head to meet Ray's lips time did that weird dilating thing that 
happens during car crashes, where you don't need to go through sequences of thought, 
you're just aware of multiple conclusions at the same moment.  He was aware of the 
completeness of Ray's trust in the way he tipped his head back, which sent a 
surprising jolt of tension down through his stomach at the moment their lips touched.  
Ray, who was always as unfailingly trustworthy and supporting as he was trusting, now 
wanted other things from him besides brotherly affection.  He was aware of the 
masculine mass of Ray's body, the firm press of his buddha-belly against the lower 
part of Winston's flatter stomach, and equally aware that he wanted to concentrate 
and make this good for Ray, who deserved good in his life.  Even so, when Ray's lips 
parted Winston almost pulled back - somehow he hadn't been prepared for that, though 
he realized he should have been.  Certainly Ray wouldn't have let this opportunity 
pass with a docile, lip-closed dry peck.  After a tremor he managed to overcome that 
impulse and meet the challenge.  Ray's tongue, tasting of the wine they had shared, 
moved with clumsy enthusiasm, his arms and body enveloping Winston with hungry 
intensity, and all in all, Winston realized, this wasn't half bad, maybe he could get 
used to it.  One of his hands had managed to roam, without Winston's conscious will, up 
to the back of Ray's head.

When Winston finally broke the kiss he drew back and ruffled Ray's hair.  "Yeah, now. 
 Those chics don't know what they're missing."  Before stepping away he gave Ray's 
shoulder a gentle squeeze, not sure what he could say.  "Thanks."  He looked hard 
into Ray's eyes.  "No matter what I decide, I'm honored."

Ray grinned up at him, all his natural enthusiasm restored, although he seemed to be 
shaking a little.  "Take as long as you want to think.  Really, I'll be fine whatever 
you decide."

Winston smiled back at him.  "It is a lot to think about.  But, hey, you made me 
forget about Claire."

END --Just One Kiss--Derien Nada--