Work Text:
Eugene was exhausted. Assignments stacked higher than he could count, projects due one after another, and to make it worse, every single one of them required teamwork. Teamwork — the very thing he dreaded most.
He could barely hold a conversation without stumbling over his words, and now he was supposed to lead a group? He’d rather fight a swarm of hornets barehanded.
By the time he reached his dorm door, his vision was blurry. Each step felt like dragging through mud, his bag hanging loosely from one shoulder, his hair disheveled from running his fingers through it too many times in frustration. His legs ached, his brain buzzed, and all he wanted was to collapse face-first into his bed and stay there for the next 3 days.
But even that simple act felt impossible. His hands fumbled for the doorknob, missing it once, twice — then he gave up entirely, pressing his forehead against the cold wood. He sighed shakily before weakly thudding his fist against the door.
BANG!
The dull sound echoed through the dorm, followed by silence.
Inside, Pugsley flinched. His dagger — the one he’d been sharpening for the past half hour — slipped in his hand slightly before he set it down. His brows furrowed as he stood up, adjusting his striped sweater. The sound had been too heavy to be a casual knock.
He crossed the room and unlocked the door.
The moment it cracked open, Eugene practically fell onto him, slumping forward, his whole body giving out at once. Pugsley stumbled back a step, catching him against his chest. Eugene’s face buried itself into his sweater, a muffled groan escaping his lips — long, tired, and pitiful.
“Gene?” Pugsley murmured softly, half amused, half worried.
“You... good?”
He got nothing but another groan in response.
Pugsley chuckled quietly under his breath, his hand automatically coming up to rub slow circles on Eugene’s back.
With a bit of effort, he shut the door with his foot, still holding Eugene close, the tired boy’s weight leaning completely into him. He guided him slowly toward the bed — Eugene’s bed, of course, the one that had far too many bee-themed pillows and yellow blankets.
“Up you go,” Pugsley muttered, lowering him onto the mattress carefully, like Eugene might crumble if handled too roughly.
Eugene mumbled something incoherent, too tired to open his eyes.
Pugsley smiled softly. He reached out, tucking one of Eugene’s curls behind his ear, then gently slid off his glasses.
“You’re gonna break these one day,” he murmured, setting them safely on the nightstand.
Leaning down, he pressed a small kiss to Eugene’s cheek — a quiet gesture, more comfort than affection — and straightened up.
“Stay. I’ll grab some snacks and something to drink.”
Eugene didn’t answer. His eyes fluttered open briefly, just enough to see Pugsley’s retreating figure disappearing through the doorway. The dorm suddenly felt quieter without him — too quiet.
He sank back into the pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling. The room spun a little. His mind was a tangled mess of half-finished ideas and guilt — he should be working. There were deadlines. Presentations. And those dreadful group work projects.
He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to summon some kind of motivation. His palms were cold, his fingertips trembling.
“Come on, Gene…” he muttered to himself. “You can’t just… stop now. You’ve got stuff to do. You have to—”
He sat up too quickly, groaning as his head pounded in protest. His thoughts were foggy, like trying to think underwater.
No, he couldn’t rest. He couldn’t. There were projects. Expectations. Grades. He had to get up.
He slapped his cheeks lightly, trying to jolt himself awake. “No time for breaks,” he whispered through gritted teeth. “No time for—”
But his body disagreed. His arms gave out beneath him, and he sank back onto the bed again. His breathing slowed, the tension melting from his shoulders.
When Pugsley came back a few minutes later, balancing a tray of snacks and a steaming mug, Eugene was already half-asleep — curled up in the blankets, his curls messy, his expression peaceful for the first time all day.
Pugsley stopped in the doorway, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah,” he murmured to himself. “No time for breaks, huh?”
He set the tray on the nightstand, sat beside the bed, and quietly brushed his thumb along Eugene’s temple.
“Get some rest, Gene. I’ve got you covered.”
Eugene lay sprawled on the bed, motionless — too tired even to shrug off his coat, not to mention his backpack. His breathing was shallow, his curls sticking to his forehead.
Pugsley sighed softly, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed.
“You really tired yourself out, huh?” he murmured.
Gently, he slipped an arm behind Eugene’s shoulders, lifting him just enough to slide the heavy backpack off. It hit the floor with a dull thud. Then he started on the coat — careful, patient. Left arm first, then right. The fabric slid off easily, and Eugene let out a small, weary hum, eyes barely open.
“There we go,” Pugsley said quietly, setting the coat and bag on the hanger beside the bed.
He crossed to the drawer and pulled out Eugene’s favorite pajamas — the soft, worn ones with faint bee patterns near the cuffs. Coming back, he sat down beside him again, voice gentle.
“Gene, I’m gonna get you changed, okay?”
Pugsley’s hands were careful as he undid the buttons of Eugene’s uniform shirt. He folded the fabric away piece by piece, moving slowly so as not to startle him. He helped Eugene into the pajama top, guiding his arms through the sleeves.
“There,” Pugsley said, smoothing out a wrinkle before folding the uniform neatly and setting it aside.
When he reached for Eugene’s waistband, though, Eugene stirred — blinking groggily, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Pugs, I got it,” he mumbled, voice slurred with sleep. “Don’t worry.”
Pugsley chuckled, leaning back. “Alright, alright. You got it.”
He watched as Eugene forced himself up and shuffled toward the bathroom, his steps dragging.
A few minutes later, the sound of rustling clothes and a sigh came from inside, followed by the faint thud of the laundry basket lid.
When Eugene emerged, he looked a little more awake — though not by much. His pajama pants were rolled up unevenly at the ankles, and his hair was sticking up in every direction.
Pugsley couldn’t help but grin.
“C’mere,” Pugsley murmured, opening his arms wide.
Eugene didn’t hesitate — he walked straight into the embrace and let himself collapse onto Pugsley’s chest. The familiar warmth of him, the steady heartbeat beneath his ear, was all it took for the day’s exhaustion to melt away.
They stayed like that for a while, eating the snacks on the tray and talking with their voices low at first and then fading into quiet laughter. Eugene talked endlessly about his day — about the relentless assignments, the group projects that made his head ache, and the way the work just kept piling up no matter how much he finished.
Pugsley listened without interrupting, his thumb tracing lazy circles along Eugene’s arm, grounding him through every frustrated breath. He didn’t need to say much; his presence alone was enough to steady Eugene’s racing thoughts.
When Eugene finally ran out of complaints, he let out a long sigh and buried his face against Pugsley’s chest. The tension in his shoulders slowly unwound, his voice softening into a tired hum. Pugsley tightened his hold just a little, as if promising that everything would be alright.
Eugene lifted his head for a moment — just long enough to press a slow, sleepy kiss to Pugsley’s lips, a silent thank you for listening.
Then he settled back down, curling closer until their legs tangled together.
Within seconds, Eugene was out cold, breathing slowly and even, a tiny bit of drool soaking into Pugsley’s striped sweater.
Pugsley let out a quiet laugh, fond and soft. He brushed his fingers through Eugene’s curls, ruffling them gently before shifting to get more comfortable.
He slid an arm under Eugene and pulled him closer, turning so they were nestled together, Eugene tucked safely against him. Pugsley’s chin rested on top of his head as he wrapped both arms around him.
The room was quiet except for their breathing — two heartbeats finding the same rhythm. Within minutes, Pugsley’s eyes grew heavy too, and he drifted off with Eugene held close, both of them finally at peace.