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Eugene kind of wants to scream.
He swears he’s milliseconds away from a freaking panic attack during the whole car ride, barely breathing as he pulls into the parking lot of his job and only halfheartedly greets his co-workers, rushing to the shed where his beekeeping equipment is stored.
Slamming the door shut behind him, Eugene grips the edge of a table, willing the feeling to return so his legs won't be so shaky and unsteady. His head is all over the place, it’s honestly a miracle he didn’t crash on the way here, and there’s only one thing that repeats in his head like a mantra.
Oh God. Oh God. What did I just do?
What was he even thinking? There’s nothing logical about it. Nothing that made any sense and he has no idea how he’s going to explain this later when he gets back and Pugsley will be there, obviously wondering what the hell is wrong with him and-
He needs to breathe. Yeah, try to get it back to normal so he’s not hyperventilating in here and someone finds him and then he has to tell them why he’s acting so weird this morning. But can anyone blame him? He just did the worst thing in the world. The sin of bro code or something.
He just kissed his best friend.
It’s not like he set out to do it. Obviously. It’s-it was a hectic morning, in his defense. If that’s even a defense at all. He woke up later than usual, leaving him less time to get ready. God, he knew he shouldn’t have indulged Pugsley in another movie but he’s addicted after Eugene introduced them and now he wants to watch them all the time and okay, it’s kinda funny to watch how he reacts to them, not to mention his laugh automatically turns the corners of Euegen’s mouth up.
But he digresses.
The point is, Eugene was scrambling earlier. Throwing on his clothes as fast he could, settling for a measly granola bar to quiet down his grumbling stomach and of course, he has to say goodbye to each one of his babies before he goes.
And by babies, he means the cats him and Pugsley adopted. While he’s interested in having kids someday, right now he’s still struggling to take care of himself sometimes.
The memory from not too long ago floods his brain yet again, and Eugene groans, covering his face.
“I’m late!” He muttered to himself while nearly tripping over his own feet to get out to the living room. “I’m so late.”
Pugsley just finished brushing his teeth. He didn’t have to be at work yet - and what that job entailed, Eugene didn’t even know. But he’d learned not to ask too many questions when his friend got that maniacal gleam in his eyes - but he’d get up at this time anyway. It was kinda nice.
“Shouldn’t you already be gone?”
“I’m trying,” Eugene’s voice came out in a whine. He didn’t usually whine. He was a capable, completely mature adult, thank you very much. But he was tired, still hungry and already fed up with the day and it wasn’t even eight in the morning yet. “I woke up late because someone just had to watch more movies!”
Pugsley shrugged, unrepentant. “It was funny. Besides you said you liked comedies.”
Eugene sputtered. “Black Christmas and Halloween aren’t comedies!?"
“They were to me.”
“Oh my God,” Eugene said with poorly concealed amusement. “You’re such a weirdo.”
“You love me anyway,” Pugsley grinned.
“You help me pay rent. I kinda have to.”
Eugene glanced down at his wristwatch when it beeped.
“Frick!” How did nearly five minutes pass by already? “I have to go. Uh-” he whirled around wildly, looking for those sweet, furry little gremlins. Without fail, he kissed each one of them goodbye.
Void, Soot and Itchy were their three boys. Eugene had scrunched his nose when Pugsley enthusiastically suggested they use the name, ‘Itchy.’ and was adamant on using it instead of any of Eugene’s suggestions, like honey.
“The only person I’m calling honey is you,” he’d said offhandedly. Eugene had rolled his eyes. He was so stupid sometimes.
He bent down to kiss each one on the head, scrunching under their chin. “I love you,” he cooed, feeling his heart melt when sweet little Soot, the baby of their trio, yawned cutely.
“You’re gonna be late,” Pugsley said unhelpfully.
Right. Shoot. He can’t be late. Eugene moved on to the other two in quick succession and, without thinking about it, stood up to press a quick peck to Pugsley’s lips.
As he pulled away, the weight of what he’d done came crashing down and he squeaked out a goodbye, too mortified to have seen the unfazed look on his best friend’s face.
His own face is erupting into a blush that makes him feel like he’s on fire.
What’s worse is that it wasn’t bad and it should be. Not bad because it’s a dude - he knows he likes both guys and girls since, like, sophomore year, maybe? No, it’s bad because this is his best friend and it’s not normal to just kiss your friends like that and what’s even more worse is that he can’t seem to stop thinking about it!
He breathes in heavily, recalling with vivid detail how soft Pugsley’s lips were, cold and with a touch of mint from his toothpaste. How does this even happen? They’ve-they’ve never been super physically affectionate with each other, so it makes zero sense how he even thought to do that.
Ugh. His head hurts.
How is he supposed to face Pugsley later? Eugene swallows thickly. Oh, God. Pugsley is going to kill him, won’t he? He’s going to get his revenge because that’s how him and Wednesday are.
Wednesday.
How is she going to react when she finds out Eugene kissed her little brother without even asking first? He’s going to end up in some shallow grave and his moms will never see him again. Great, great. His life is over. He won’t even make it to his next birthday.
“What do I do?” He whispers, tugging at his curls.
He has to do something. Some kind of damage control, right? But he can’t message Pugsley - not that he will, that’s not anything he wants to face right now- since he doesn’t have a phone and doesn’t see the point in getting one.
He should do something, though, before he vomits and with the way his stomach is churning, he’s not that far away from it happening. Taking his phone out of his pocket, Eugene clumsily pressed the contacts button, going straight to the one person he knew that could help him.
Even if she’s liable to kill him first.
“What?” Came a familiar deadpan.
“I need help!” He blurts out.
“Send me your coordinates and we’ll deal with the body.”
“No-” Eugene does not have the patience for this. His heart is hammering in his chest, his nerves are on edge to the point he’s jittery and he seriously feels like he’s going to be sick. “Listen to me. I did something bad. Like, really awful and I don’t know what to do so you have to help me!”
“What could you have possibly done?” Wednesday says, bored.
“I kissed your brother!”
There’s barely a pause. “And?” She says, more impatiently than seconds ago.
Eugene’s brain short circuits. “What do you mean and? I just kissed your brother! On accident!”
“How do you accidentally kiss somebody?” Another voice asks from the background.
“Do you have me on speaker!?” Eugene cries. This can’t get more embarrassing.
“You were the one who called,” Wednesday says calmly. “You have no right to complain.”
“Plus, she doesn’t know how to turn the speaker off,” Tyler Galpin calls out, snickering, even when something heavy hits the wall with a resounding thud.
“Silence, before I drown you.”
“Not the worst thing you've done to me."
“Uh, guys-” Eugene clears his throat. He’s happy for Wednesday, really he is, even if her boyfriend - yet not boyfriend because she refuses labels - is a blood thirsty monster that nearly killed Eugene but he’s over that. It was years ago, anyway. But now’s not the time for her to fall into their flirty banter. Not when he’s having a crisis. “Can you do that later? Please?” He hears a scoff which definitely came from Wednesday and he’s not really sure who it’s towards but that doesn’t matter.
“What more do you need? We’ve already established what you’ve done.”
“Yeah, but how?” Tyler wants to know. He sounds confused.“How did you accidentally kiss him?”
It’s technically a fair question but like, Eugene is still trying to process it himself. “I don’t know! It just happened!”
It happened and now he’ll have to face the music and find out what Pugsley is thinking and he’s not ready. He’s queasy more than humanly possible, he’s sure, and he’s trying to breathe which is proving to be a near impossible task.
“What does any of this have to do with me?” Wednesday interrupts his spiraling.
“I don’t know...” Eugene mumbles. “I just thought you’d know what to do.”
“What is there to do? You kissed him so you clearly hold some affection for him.”
What?
That’s not- she has it all wrong! He doesn’t have feelings for Pugsley. He can’t! It was just a kiss! A stray kiss that means nothing. If it would have meant something, then obviously Eugene wouldn't have waited so long. Obviously. He can easily admit Pugsley is handsome, especially when he lets his curls loose, and his eyes are so expressive even if no one else notices. Eugene does; he sees them light up when Pugsley is excited or speaking enthusiastically about something he enjoys.
But that doesn’t mean he likes him. Just because he notices the obvious doesn’t mean anything.
“What?” He squeaks. “I don’t like him!”
There’s silence on the other end.
“Are you sure?” Tyler asks casually. “Because it sounds like you do.”
“No!” Eugene shouts, which he doesn’t mean to do. He exhales, trying to calm down. “I don’t like him. It was just an accident.”
“Okaaaay,” he drawls. “Whatever you say. You wanna take over now?” He’s talking to Wednesday.
“No.”
“Thanks,” Eugene mutters. That just makes him feel good.
“I’m not going to talk to him if he’s insisting on denying everything,” Wednesday says.
“But I’m not-”
She cuts over him without remorse. “You follow my brother like a dog. You smile foolishly in his presence. You also inserted yourself into his space the weekend we were over there.”
At the reminder, Eugene flushes. That was accidental too. He was tired, falling asleep mid movie and just so happened to lean against Pugsley, who’d thrown his arm over Eugene to keep him from falling forward. Imagine his surprise when he woke up and realized his cheek was against Pugsley’s warm body and the smell coming from him made him feel oddly tingly in his stomach and-
Oh, God.
“No, no. Nooooo!” Eugene whines.
“He’s finally figured it out,” Wednesday says to Tyler on the other line.
“Sounds like it.”
“I can’t like him!” Eugene says, on the verge of hyperventilating again. “I can’t!”
“Then don’t,” Wednesday says tonelessly.
Because Wednesday has, like, zero tact or empathy, Tyler decides to take over. He’s much more gentle than she is, which is kinda comical for someone who has sharp claws and teeth that can easily rip off a limb. “Eugene, breathe. What’s the worst thing that can happen? I’d be willing to bet Pugsley likes you back.”
“He doesn’t,” Eugene says automatically.
“You don’t know that,” Tyler says sagely. “He could, and I think he does. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“It’s nauseating," Wednesday chimes in with much disgust.
“The way he...looks at me?” Eugene repeats, blinking. He’s never noticed Pugsley looking at him in any particular way at all.
“How can you possibly be this clueless?” Wednesday demands. He doesn’t get a chance to say anything, or feel offended. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to hang up.”
“Good luck!” Tyler yells in support just seconds before the call ends.
He stares down at the phone, silence encompassing him.
In what way?
*
Eugene kind of doesn’t want to go home.
He knows he can’t avoid Pugsley. They live together and he really doesn’t want to find a new place. But the thought of going back is daunting so he thinks about just waiting until later to go back, much later when the lights will be out and Pugsley will be asleep.
Somehow, he finds himself back on the door step at the time he’ll usually be back.
He swears his heart is going to explode as he goes inside, eyes darting around for him but the living room is empty. There’s no noise, and trust him, Pugsley makes a lot of it so he’s fairly sure he’s in the clear. Eugene relaxes a little, shoulders falling in relief.
So he’s not going to ruin his life yet. That’s good.
Something cold to drink might ease some of his nerves. He goes to grab a can of soda, fingers just about to flip the top.
“We’ll need to buy more of those.”
Eugene doesn’t scream. He doesn’t. He just...makes a loud sound. The can crashes to the floor. Heart now in his throat, Eugene turns around sharply to see Pugsley in the entryway, and that heart now sinks all the way to the floor and down to the depths of the earth.
Pugsley doesn’t remark on his, or have much of a reaction at all. “How was your day?” He says, breezing past Eugene to open the cabinet door for a snack.
Pugsley doesn’t really have to stretch, but his t-shirt does lift up anyway, revealing some tan skin and Eugene swallows.
“Fine. Completely fine.”
Why isn’t he saying anything about...you know what? He’s acting so- so casual like nothing ever happened and it's driving Eugene insane. Was this his attempt at some psychological torture? It was working.
“I’m sorry!” His voice comes out a little too loud. Pugsley pauses, slowly looking his way. “For...you know.”
“Oh, the kiss?” He says, as if it is an everyday occurrence that people kissed their best friend whom they weren’t even dating.
“Yeah,” a blush takes over Eugene’s whole face. “I’m really sorry, dude. I didn’t do it on purpose. I just- I was tired and in a hurry and I promise I won’t do it again.”
Pugsley tilts his head. “Why are you freaking out about this?”
Huh?
Eugene’s mouth hangs open stupidly. Pugsley continues.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s-it’s not?”
“No,” Pugsley shrugs. Eugene gawkes at him. “Why would it?”
“Well...I mean...a lot of people would probably be upset.”
“That’s stupid,” Pugsley says after a moment of staring. “Besides, I wouldn’t say no if you did it again.”
Eugene honest to God thinks he’s somehow fell into an alternate universe or something. He can’t form words. It takes him a couple of minutes for his brain to catch up, for his breathing to chill out. Whatever he does intend to say doesn’t happen and something very, very stupid tumbles out instead.
“So you’re not gonna kill me?”
Pugsley blinks, then grins, and Eugene can see the amusement in him. “Why would I kill you?”
“I don’t know!” Eugene’s arms flail. “Because-because it’s weird and I didn’t ask first and-”
He stops, deflating with a soft groan.
Pugsley sets his snack on the counter top, striding across the room until he’s practically in Eugene's space. “Eres tan estúpido,” he murmurs, brushing a curl away from his eye.
Eugene is quite certain he’s not breathing anymore. Pugsley’s touch leaves a trail of fire on his skin. “Uh, what?”
Pugsley smiles softly, and it suddenly clicks in his mind what Tyler meant earlier. His knuckles brush against Eugene's cheek, stepping closer, closer until they're chest to chest. Eugene's breath hitches.
It's better than the one from this morning. He feels light and floaty, like he's not even in control of his own body anymore. Eugene slides his hand through Pugsley's hair to cradle the back of his head. A pair of arms are around Eugene’s neck, light pressure on the skin from his fingers.
One of them pulls away but it's only for a second and they're right back in. Eugene can't think of anything other than Pugsley, Pugsley, Pugsley. The unique scent of his hair. The achingly soft touches. How the kiss builds into something more and something within him explodes just as they pull apart.
Pugsley rests his forehead against Eugene's, who finally thinks he's being brought back down to earth. “Better than this morning?”
There are about a million and one questions swarming in Eugene's head. He asks the one that's nagging at him the most.
“How long?”
He should be embarrassed how breathy his voice comes out, and he will later. But right now, all he can do is stare into Pugsley’s dark eyes and resist the urge to allow his buckling knees to overtake him.
“Long enough.”