Chapter Text
Pugsley hadn't planned for it to matter this much.
The apology had been... uncomfortable, sure, and longer than anything he usually bothered with, but he'd meant it, and somehow that still feels strange to admit, even now. A week later, he catches himself replaying it in pieces, not the words exactly, but the way Eugene had looked at him after, like something had shifted into place rather than broken apart.
He hadn't expected that.
He definitely hadn't expected what came after.
Because Eugene is different now.
Not drastically, not in a way anyone else would probably notice, but Pugsley does. It's in the way Eugene doesn't hesitate to sit closer than before, or how conversations stretch longer without that usual distance between them. There's less caution, less second-guessing, like something has quietly been decided and no one announced it.
And then there's the part Pugsley doesn't quite know what to do with.
"You're following me." Pugsley doesn't slow down as he says it, cutting across the courtyard with his usual restless pace, hands shoved in his pockets.
Behind him, Eugene matches the movement easily. "I'm walking in the same direction."
"That's not the same thing."
"It is if we're going to the same place."
Pugsley glances back briefly, narrowing his eyes. "You weren't going this way five minutes ago."
"I changed my mind."
"Convenient."
Eugene shrugs, adjusting the strap of his bag slightly higher on his shoulder. "You do that all the time."
"Yeah, but when I do it, it makes sense."
"And when I do it, it doesn't?"
"Exactly."
Eugene's mouth twitches faintly, like he's holding back a smile. "That's a little unfair."
Pugsley slows just enough for them to fall into step beside each other instead of one trailing behind. "You're being weird."
"How?"
"You're just... there. All the time."
Eugene glances at him, expression thoughtful rather than defensive. "We share a room. I've always been there."
"Not like this."
"Like what?"
Pugsley gestures vaguely, clearly struggling to define it. "Closer."
Eugene considers that for a moment. "You don't like it?"
The question lands softer than Pugsley expects.
He frowns slightly, then looks away. "I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
"I said it's weird."
"That doesn't mean you mind."
Pugsley exhales through his nose. "You're reading too much into it."
"Maybe," Eugene says, but he doesn't sound convinced. "Or maybe you're not saying enough."
Pugsley rolls his eyes, though there's less irritation behind it than usual. "You've gotten annoying."
"I thought I already was."
"You were. This is different."
"How?"
"More persistent."
Eugene lets out a quiet breath that almost sounds like a laugh. "I'll take that as progress."
"It's not a compliment."
"It's not an insult either."
Pugsley doesn't argue that.
They keep walking, the conversation fading into something easier, but the awareness of it stays. Of how Eugene doesn't drift away, doesn't get pulled into another group, doesn't stop to talk to anyone else even when given the chance.
He just... stays.
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
It keeps happening throughout the week.
In the study hall, Eugene drags his chair a little closer without asking, spreading his notes across the shared space like it's always been that way. Pugsley notices but doesn't comment, just shifts his own things slightly to make room.
During meals, Eugene sits across from him at first, then eventually beside him, like the change is gradual enough not to question.
Even in their room, there's a difference.
Pugsley is used to noise, to filling space with whatever comes to mind, but now Eugene answers more, engages more, stays in the conversation instead of letting it pass by. It makes things feel... fuller.
Too full, sometimes.
"You're staring again."
Pugsley doesn't look up from where he's lying on his bed, one arm draped over his eyes. "I'm not."
"You are."
"You can't even see me."
"I don't need to."
Pugsley shifts his arm just enough to glance over. Eugene is sitting at his desk, but he's turned halfway around, watching him with that same focused look.
"...Okay, now I am," Pugsley admits.
"Why?"
Pugsley shrugs, dropping his arm back into place. "Nothing else to do."
"You always find something to do."
"Not today."
Eugene studies him for a second longer, then stands, crossing the room without much hesitation.
Pugsley hears the movement before he feels it, the slight dip of the mattress as Eugene sits on the edge of his bed.
"You're definitely staring now," Eugene says.
Pugsley opens one eye. "You came closer."
"That doesn't change anything."
"It does. Now it's justified."
Eugene tilts his head slightly. "You need justification?"
"For everything."
"That sounds exhausting."
"It's not. I'm used to it."
Eugene doesn't move away. If anything, he leans back slightly on his hands, relaxed in a way that feels new.
"You've been quieter this week," he says after a moment.
Pugsley frowns faintly. "No, I haven't."
"You have. Not in a bad way, just... less chaotic."
"Wow. That sounds like an insult."
"It's not."
"It definitely is."
Eugene shakes his head. "I mean it. You're still you, just.. different."
Pugsley pushes himself up onto his elbows, looking at him more directly now. "You're the one who's different."
"How?"
"You're always around."
"I was always around."
"No," Pugsley insists, sitting up properly now. "Before, you'd leave. Go do your own thing. Now you just stay."
Eugene holds his gaze, not looking away this time. "Do you want me to stop?"
Pugsley hesitates. It's brief, but noticeable.
Then he shakes his head. "No."
Eugene's expression softens slightly, like he expected that answer but still appreciates hearing it. "Then I don't see the problem."
"There's no problem," Pugsley says quickly, then slows down, correcting himself. "It's just... unexpected."
Eugene nods once. "That's fair."
A short silence settles between them, but it's not awkward. If anything, it feels steady.
Pugsley glances down at his hands for a second, then back up. "You're not even talking to that girl anymore."
Eugene blinks, caught slightly off guard. "What?"
"The one who kept asking you about assignments."
"Oh." Eugene looks away briefly, like he's trying to remember. "No. Not really."
"Why?"
Eugene shrugs lightly. "Didn't feel necessary."
Pugsley narrows his eyes. "That's a weird reason."
"Not really."
"You were talking to her all the time."
"For a few days."
"That's a long time."
"It's not."
Pugsley leans back slightly, studying him. "You just stopped?"
"Yeah."
"Just like that."
Eugene meets his gaze again, calm but more deliberate now. "Yeah. Just like that."
There's something in the way he says it that makes Pugsley pause. "...Okay," Pugsley says, slower this time.
Eugene watches him for a second, then lets out a quiet breath. "You're overthinking again."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"Am not."
Eugene smiles faintly. "You are."
Pugsley huffs, but there's no real bite to it. "Whatever."
He shifts slightly on the bed, their shoulders brushing for half a second before he settles back.
Neither of them moves away.
And Pugsley realizes, somewhere in the middle of that moment, that this (whatever this is) doesn't feel wrong.
It's different, yeah. Unexpected, for sure. A little confusing too. But it doesn't feel wrong.
If anything, it feels like something he doesn't want to lose. He doesn't say that out loud.