Chapter Text
The next day wasn’t easier. Or better.
Not worse, either—just like.. frustrating. The kind of frustrating that made your palms too sweaty, when you’d itch at your hands too fast and that twist in your stomach every time you’d make an accidental eye contact with someone you didn't know.
Eugene woke up—tangled in his blanket like he’d been fighting all night. His dreams were all about rats, lip collisions, and Pugsley.
‘God, was that.. gay?’ Eugene thought to himself, thinking over and over again if it was gay to dream about his roommate and how he’d accidentally kissed him from the day before. I mean—probably not, but is it gay that he kept thinking about it all day?
He wanted to scream so badly.
Across the room, Pugsley had been awake—long since dawn. He’d spent most of the night just pacing around the room and muttering thoughts to himself.
Honestly, they acted pathetic—and they would definitely admit to it too. Like they knew.
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Breakfast was a social mess. They still sat at the same table—far enough that Enid passed by saying, “Are you saving a seat for someone or are you both just being awkward?”
Pugsley stabbed his toast with his fork. Hard.
Eugene dropped the spoon into his cereal bowl, and let it sink in there like a drowning victim.
Enid just shrugged, walking away—not before saying, “Go figure out whatever you’re figuring out!”
Nobody said anything.
Until Eugene, eyes still fixed on the spoon in his bowl, muttered, “Did we ruin everything?”
Pugsley blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“You know.” Eugene shrugged weakly. “The whole.. whatever we had before. The functioning thing. Being people who don’t panic over one stupid accident.”
Pugsley didn’t answer right away. He picked up his toast, stared at it—then set it down again. His voice came out flat. “Define accident.”
“Physics.”
“You’re sticking with that?”
“Doubling down.” Eugene said.
They both tried not to smile. They failed slightly.
From a few tables over—Pugsley could see her texting furiously at her phone. He managed to catch the word “tension” written in caps. He walked over to her while Eugene just sat confused and threatened to set her nail polish on fire. She grinned at him like it was the best compliment she’d received.
Later, in the dorm—the tension became something else. Not sharp. Just stretched too tight.
Pugsley sat at his desk, pretending to read. Eugene lay on his bed with his hands rubbing his temples, eyes wide open and staring directly at the ceiling.
Every minute ticked louder than it should have.
Eventually, Eugene sat up with the energy of someone who was either about to confess a crush or throw up.
“Okay,” he said. “We need to talk.”
Pugsley didn’t look up. “Mhm.”
“About yesterday. About the.. well, you know.”
“That accidental collision between lips.”
“Sure. Yeah, yeah. That-that’s the one.” Eugene exhaled. “It’s like—stuck in my brain. Not in the bad way or anything—it’s just like.. stuck or something.” He muttered the last part.
Pugsley glanced at him, “Same.”
A long pause.
“Did you—did you hate it..?”
Pugsley looked back down at his book—pretending to read a line longer than necessary. Then, “No.”
Eugene nodded, his mind was stumbling over itself. “Okay. Cool. Because I didn’t either.”
Neither of them moved.
Pugsley said, “That doesn’t mean I’m still not terrified.”
“I’m currently in a state of fear,” Eugene admitted. “But, like—politely.”
Pugsley fully turned to look at him now, “So what are we doing, exactly?”
Eugene kept staring at the ceiling, “I.. don’t know. But I keep thinking about it—so it probably means something.”
Pugsley’s voice lowered—mimicking a whisper. “I keep thinking about it too.”
There was a beat. Neither moved.
Then Eugene stood. His legs felt slightly like jelly but he walked over anyway.
He stopped just in front of Pugsley.
“So..” he said. “If we kissed again. Would that be considered data?”
Pugsley blinked. “You’re asking to recreate the incident?”
“For science.”
“Are you proposing a hypothesis on whether we’re into each other?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. But if I pass out, you can’t mock me since this is for descriptive research and science.”
“Eh, no promises.”
They didn’t count down. They didn’t move quickly.
Eugene reached out first, hesitant—fingers brushing Pugsley’s sleeve like it was made of something fragile. Pugsley’s breath hitched but he didn’t move away from his face, instead standing up so he could go closer.
And then—again, they kissed. But with purpose.
This time slower. Not clumsy, but still shaky. Still new.
Their noses bumped a little.
Pugsley’s hand twitched halfway towards Eugene’s wrists, then stopped.
Eugene tilted his head without realizing it.
It was short.
They pulled away too quickly, both blinking like they just got air for the first time. (Kind of like birth, I guess?)
Eugene opened his mouth to say something, but the words died mid-way in his throat.
Pugsley stepped back a bit and laughed, a short and nervous one. “Okay. So that.. just happened.”
“Yeah,” Eugene said, voice quiet.
Neither of them went back to their previous positions. They stood there like two awkward statues.
Eugene rubbed the back of his neck. “That wasn’t terrible.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Pugsley said quickly. “Which is terrifying.”
“Why terrifying?”
“Because now I have no idea what it means.”
Eugene stared at him, “Does it have to mean something?”
“I-I don’t know! I’m not used to this. You’re like the more emotionally intelligent one!”
“I am? I-I was?”
“You wear cardigans and label your bug jars. You basically have bees for therapy.”
“I—okay. Fair enough.”
Pugsley backed up until he hit his desk. “I don’t know how to be in something.”
“Neither do I!”
“I write things in journals, Eugene! I make weird things and talk to rats!”
“I talk to bugs!”
They both stopped, blinking at each other.
“I think I’m like—panicking.” Pugsley whispered, wide eyed.
Eugene’s face went pale before replying, “Me too.”
“Should we like—kiss again or just never speak of this ever again?”
“I—”
“Actually, don’t answer that.” Pugsley said, passing Eugene and pacing the room. “This is so stupid.” He said, muttering under his breath.
“God, why does kissing just make everything explode in my brain? I’ve made fires before and this is so much worse.”
Eugene sat on Pugsley’s bed, “Okay. Okay. Uh—deep breaths.”
Pugsley kept pacing. “What if we’re not supposed to like each other? What if we’re just like—really compatible in a weird trauma-bonding way and now we’re confusing everything?”
“I don’t think trauma-bonding involves mouth-to-mouth accidents.” (Or whatever THAT was.)
“Then what is this?!”
“I don’t know!”
They both froze.
Pugsley stared at him. “Do you like me?”
Eugene looked genuinely offended. “Of course I like you!”
“Oh.”
“Do you like me?”
Pugsley made a strangled sound. “Yes, you idiot!”
They stared.
And then they collapsed to the nearest surface like water running down a pipe.
Eugene covered his face. “This has got to be one of the worst confessions like—ever.”
Pugsley groaned into his hands, “God, we’re disasters..”
Eugene peeked through his fingers, “But you do like me, right?”
“Yes!” Pugsley shouted, sounding muffled.
Eugene smiled. Just a little.
Pugsley looked up. “You’re smiling.”
“No I’m not.”
“You’re literally doing it right now.”
“It’s a panic smile?”
Pugsley stood up, “Okay. So we’re both dumb. We like each other. So what now?”
Eugene blinked, “Like—dating? I don’t know.”
“Are we?”
Eugene snorted, “I’ve kissed you twice, I’ve threatened people for you, and we sleep five feet apart.”
“Yep. Sounds about right.”
There was a silence.
Then Pugsley asked, “You wanna make it official?”
Eugene shrugged. “Only if you promise to stop screaming every time it gets emotional.”
“.. Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“No promises.”
But he stepped forward anyway.
They had another kiss.
Lighter. Softer.
Like they weren’t proving anything. Just—being.
When they pulled back, Pugsley whispered—“I want to scream right now.”
Eugene nodded, letting his forehead rest against Pugsley’s. “Same.”
Their hearts were racing. Faces warm. But they weren’t backing away.
Because—yeah, it was awkward. But it was something real.
And that was enough for them.