Chapter Text
Eugene liked to think of himself as a realist. A logical person. Someone who didn’t panic easily. Bees didn’t like panic; they responded to it like it was a challenge. So he’d learned to breathe through the small things.
Small things like the annoyance of spilled honey, even if it took him hours to harvest. Small things like Ajax calling him bee boy like he was a little kid, instead of a hero who totally saved the school. Things like Pugsley, his stupidly clumsy boyfriend, tripping over his own feet and somehow catching himself with one hand on the wall and the other hand on top of the metal smoker, which obviously does not react well to the sparks Pugsley accidentally lets out, almost frying the entire shed.
His moms do not count as small things. Unfortunately, they're hard to brush under the rug.
It's not like he was hiding his relationship with Pugsley on purpose, but...well, Eugene likes to call it preservation. The preservation of his relationship.
The thing is, Eugene's happy. Genuinely, Pugsley makes him happy, even if from the outside it looks like he makes Eugene's blood pressure rise. Okay, maybe Pugsley does a bit of both.
Point is, after being attacked by the Hyde, he'd gotten used to happiness feeling temporary. There are times he feels stuck, trapped in a moment that keeps replaying when he leasts expects it, like a vicious reminder that his happiness could be ripped away in a matter of seconds, and there's nothing he can do about it. Because who is he, up against a Hyde?
Pugsley makes that all feel irrelevant sometimes. Even if it's just for moments.
He's just protecting his happiness. From complications. Complications being his moms. Which sounds bad, he knows. But it's really not. Really.
He loved his moms, there's no question about that. Sue and Janet Ottinger were great parents, if a little too invested in his every move. After he’d spent weeks in the hospital, they’d barely let him out of their sight. He had to beg them to let him go back to Nevermore.
Now it'd been a couple of years, now that he was a little older, they tried to act like they’d loosened up, but their calls said otherwise. And there's one topic that they won't give up on.
It had been a stupid slip months ago — he’d been talking to them on the phone, distracted, and somehow “friend” had come out as “boyfriend.” Since then, they'd been relentless. They wanted to meet him. It's not like he could say their excitement was entirely unexpected. After all, Eugene's never brought home a friend. Let alone a boyfriend. It was sweet, how much they cared. And Eugene would totally bring Pugsley home.
If Pugsley wasn't so...Pugsley.
Eugene doesn't think he's being unfair. How is he seriously supposed to bring home the guy who eats bugs, has a strong interest in medieval torture devices, and once brought back a zombie as a pet?
Sure, Janet briefly met Pugsley when he and Eugene first got assigned as roommates, but she hardly remembers that, and Eugene's grateful for her poor memory every single day. And Sue would worry far more when she found out about Pugsley's vintage knife collection.
Yeah, no.
Every time they called, Eugene stuck to the script. He knew exactly what to say to make his moms back off. Like today, just when Janet tries to casually slide in the question of what Pugsley's going to be doing over spring break next week, Eugene delivers the excuse smoothly,
"Oh, I think he'll be home all holiday. Family stuff, you know?"
"I'm sure he could spare a day or two—" Janet starts, ready to insist, but Eugene's quicker. He knows this dance already, is practiced in the art of avoidance.
"He can't. His parent's are very big on family time. We couldn't possibly impose on their...family traditions, could we?"
"I...I suppose not. We don't want to intrude. Well...that's a shame. But next time, you have to bring him, Eugene! We just want to get to know him!"
"Yeah, sure, we'll see. I'll definitely try to convince him."
Finally, they drop the subject. Another crisis averted, and rather expertly if he does say so himself. After exchanging final goodbyes, Eugene sets his phone down on his nightstand. Good thing he can anticipate exactly what his moms'll ask.
What he can't predict is the whereabouts of his boyfriend at all times, so when he turns around to see Pugsley silently standing in the doorway looking like a silhouette, expression confused, Eugene's first reaction is to, naturally, yelp and jump back in fright, before exhaling in annoyance.
"Can you stop doing that?" Eugene shakes his head, walking over to his terrarium to feed the bugs. "It doesn't get any less creepy, you know. I need to get you a bell."
"How come you lied?" Pugsley asks bluntly, not one to beat around the bush. Eugene pauses, looking up to see Pugsley's eyes gleaming with curiosity, without a hint of accusation. He wears a look of genuine befuddlement.
"What do you mean?" Eugene responds airily, opening the lid. Hopefully, Pugsley won't ask too many questions.
Then again, he's Pugsley.
"On the phone. You said I'd be home all holiday. Were those your moms?"
"Yeah. Well...you will be, won't you? You didn't mention you'd be going anywhere." Eugene replies innocently. Technically speaking, it's not like he outright lied.
"Well...yeah," Pugsley frowns, tilting his head, "But that can always change. You know, if they're inviting me over. I'd totally be up for it. That's what they were asking, right?"
"Oh, I don't know," Eugene says hesitantly, his brain scrambling to figure out an excuse that won't expose him. "You must have better stuff to do—"
"I'd like to come though. It'd be fun! I've never been to anyone's house before!" Pugsley grins, lighting up at the possibility. Oh, crap. "And it's not like it'd be the whole holiday, would it?"
"Gee— I...I don't know," Eugene repeats, internally panicking a little now. All these questions are getting a lot harder to answer, Eugene's perfectly crafted defence crumbling at the sight of Pugsley's eagerness.
Goddamnit, Pugsley's got him. He can't think of any better excuses. So Eugene takes the next logical step anyone in his position would've. He bolts. "Hey, look at that! It's time for me to go down to the Shed. Bees to tend to."
"Didn't you go an hour ago?—"
"Forgot to clean up! Ha! Silly me!" Eugene sweats, making a move towards the door, "I'm gonna do that. Alone. Me and my girls should spend some quality time together."
"But, about spring break—"
"Yeah, yeah, talk later, okay? See you!"
Eugene practically dashes out of there, closing the door behind him in Pugsley's face, but not before catching his bewildered expression. He breathes out a sign of relief. Great. He bought himself some time. He's not exactly sure how he'll get himself out of this one, but Eugene's good at cleaning up sticky messes. Pugsley makes them all the time with honey.
When Pugsley doesn't bring it up again during dinner, after he watches Eugene lock up the Hummers' Shed, and even after they've gone back to their dorm together, Eugene thinks he's just about gotten away with it. Maybe Pugsley's short attention span saved the day.
Boy, was he wrong.
Eugene tugs the yellow, bee-patterned sheets to his shoulders, settling in after the long day. He doesn't protest when Pugsley slips in beside him. Them sleeping in the same bed has been one of the newer developments of their relationship that Eugene's been receptive to. Eugene's always been a little too hesitant to go into Pugsley's though. Call it shyness, awkwardness, or wariness of what lurks inside the sheets. Pugsley doesn't mind. He's happy to bridge the gap.
Pugsley turns over to face him, eyes fixed on Eugene's face. "Can we talk about earlier?"
"What about earlier?"
"You know. Plans for spring break. Your moms wanting me to come over."
Eugene shuts his eyes, breathing out slowly. He doesn't need to look back to know that Pugsley's gaze is intense. Perhaps hopeful. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"
"Am I supposed to? You've met my parents. It's only fair I meet yours."
"I don't think it's about fairness."
"What's this about then?"
"What's what about?"
"Can you stop pretending you don't know what I'm talking about?" Pugsley huffs, miffed. Eugene finally opens his eyes and glances over, to see Pugsley's brows furrowed.
"I don't know what you want me to say!" Eugene exclaims in frustration, sitting up and letting the sheets fall to his waist. Maybe his irritation isn't entirely fair. But he can't help it, not when his perfect plan seems to be falling apart. He breaks eye contact, as if he can still try avoiding this conversation. But he knows, deep down, the game is up.
"Maybe start by telling me why you don't want me to meet your parents."
"I never said that—"
"You didn't have to! It's obvious! And if I can see it, you know it's bad." Pugsley says solemnly. Eugene groans, running a hand through his hair.
"Alright! Okay. I've been...trying to delay the first time you meet my moms."
"Why?"
This is where Eugene has to be careful. He doesn't want to hurt Pugsley's feelings with the truth. What even is the truth?
"Just...you know, I feel like the time isn't right yet. It's complicated. They've also got...stuff to do."
"Like what?"
"...Spring cleaning?"
"Eugene."
"Alright! Fine!" Eugene throws his hands up, exasperated. "They're just...a little protective of me, okay? I don't want them to interrogate you."
Pugsley's eyes shine with hope. "I'm not scared of a little interrogation. It's pretty fun, actually. Will it involve waterboarding?"
Eugene shuts his eyes and groans yet again. Because that right there is why Eugene's so hesitant. Because Pugsley's definitely going to say something like that. He tries to put it gently.
"Look, Pugsley. My moms are a little...judgemental. I feel like they wouldn't...get you. I mean, your hobbies involve blowing things up and— and torture. That's the kind of stuff they actively avoid."
"Oh."
Eugene hears the quiet reply, but surges on, not sensing the hurt, feeling the need to justify himself. "It's— It's not that there's anything wrong with you, per se, it's just that— well- you talk about death the way most people talk about the weather, and you—"
"You're embarrassed of me."
The devastating words hit Eugene like a gut punch. "What? No! No, that's not— that's not it at all!"
His head snaps down to look at Pugsley, who's now looking to the side into an empty space. It feels wrong. Eugene takes one of Pugsley's hands, nudging him with his knee. "It's not because of you."
"Then what is it?"
"It's them! They worry about me a lot. I mean, the only reason they're not still too wary about Wednesday is because she was my first friend. They saw her visit me in the hospital all the time. And she saved my life. Otherwise they'd probably be weirded out by her too—"
"You think I'd weird them out?"
God, Eugene's really putting his foot in his mouth.
"I-I— Pugsley, listen. I really care about you. I just...I was hoping to wait until their overprotectiveness dies down. So you meeting them wouldn't be such a disaster."
"Would it be?" Pugsley asks, his voice barely a whisper. With his sad, annoyingly big brown eyes finally meeting Eugene's, he mumbles, "I don't think I'm that bad."
Pugsley's way too good at messing with Eugene's head, his emotions, swaying Eugene to make idiotic decisions. He swallows, feeling his guilt rise further. "You're not. They've just...they've been a little more intense ever since I got attacked."
"Will they ever loosen up?"
Eugene's breath catches. He thinks of his moms’ nervous smiles, of their judgment disguised as curiosity, of their questions—so many questions. And of Pugsley, sitting there trying to make a good impression, but really just shooting himself in the foot repeatedly. The thought makes Eugene’s chest ache.
It seems inevitable.
"I guess not," Eugene answers, contemplative. "You make it sound so simple."
"Because it is."
Pugsley’s tone was so straightforward it was almost funny.
Eugene stares down at him—the boy with dark eyes and the patience of a saint—albeit a slightly deranged one. He wanted to roll his eyes. To deflect. But he was tired of fighting. And honestly? Of hiding.
He sighs, defeated, slumping to lie down again, his head against Pugsley's chest. "Fine," he murmurs, his body melting into him like his resolve. "Next week. Come over when you're free. Maybe you could stay the night. We'll talk about the details tomorrow."
"Really?"
"Really."
"You're not just saying that to shut me up?"
"It's a factor. Don't make me regret it."
"I'll take it," Pugsley beams, lifting the hand he's holding to his lips to give it a brief kiss.
Eugene smiles despite himself, closing his eyes. The rain outside deepened into a steady patter. And though anxiety still curls beneath his ribs, he feels something else too—something quieter, steadier.
Maybe his moms wouldn’t get it. Maybe they’d panic. Maybe it’d be awkward and messy and horrible.
But for once, he thinks, maybe that was fine. Because he can handle a little chaos.
Okay, fine. A lot of chaos.
Eugene can already hear Janet's nervous laughter and Sue's whispered, "Eugene, honey, is he… safe?"
Yeah. Next week was going to be a nightmare.
But as Pugsley’s cold hand comes to rest gently on the back of his neck, comfort seeping through his skin, Eugene decides that maybe—just maybe—it’d be worth it.