Work Text:
Sometimes he still thought about it.
It crept up on him, the guilt, when everything was going great and nothing hurt, a strike out of nowhere. He’d remember, then, the parts of the past that were better left forgotten. A piece of their history, unable to be changed, forever woven in.
It wasn’t like the way his moms met - not with stolen glances and shy smiles. There was no love at first sight or long, drawn out pining. The reality was much more embarrassing. He’d remember the way he regarded Pugsley at first, how quickly he was to rid his hands of him like he was nothing more than gum stuck to his shoe. Remembered how his own struggles from the previous year slipped from mind, and for what reason? Meaningless popularity that had mostly fizzled out by now anyway.
Now - well over a year, nearly two, since the day happened - Eugene was nothing more than an afterthought. People moved on. No longer impressed when he couldn’t offer them any more heroics, setting him apart from any other geek. It was...hard to accept. Difficult to comprehend that despite having a slightly better social standing than before, he was just back to being just himself. Not someone people tended to look up to, not someone who seemingly had all the answers.
Just....Eugene.
This sudden thrust back into reality made him see what his behavior had really been - insufferable. It mortified him to fully realize how he’d treated Pugsley, especially when all he’d wanted was to make a friend.
Sometimes he wondered if Pugsley thought about it too. If on occasion he'd let his mind wander, remember, and have his stomach twisting as he recalled every single instance where Eugene made it pointedly clear he preferred to be anywhere but in Pugsley's presence.
“What's wrong, mi queido?” The sound of his boyfriend brought Eugene back to the present.
There was no worry to his voice, not a hint of a frown. Just a small smile and kind eyes that made something twist in Eugene’s chest.
“Just thinking.”
Eugene forced a small smile. Even though there wasn't a lot of room left on the bed, Pugsley scooted himself closer to Eugene, resting his face in his neck, gently gripping the back of it, softly caressing.
It took all of his strength not to melt under Pugsley’s touch.
“About what?”
Should he say something, or was he overthinking things? Eugene turned his head just enough so he could breathe in the scent of Pugsley's hair, closing his eyes as the soothing smell relaxed him.
“I just - I'm really sorry for how I acted.”
It was out - finally. The words he’d held back, mulled over more times than he could count, picturing a reaction - any reaction - from Pugsley. Anger - raw and real and out in the open. Resentment - buried until just now, ugly and exposed.
His whisper was full of shame, barely to be heard in the otherwise quiet dormitory. Eugene squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the response.
He felt Pugsley pull away from him, and his stomach dropped. This was it. Here it comes.
It’d come now, this conversation. There was no more putting it off. No more thinking about initiating it.
“What are you talking about?” Pugsley said, calm, perhaps curious.
“You know...” Eugene’s gaze dropped, unable to hold eye contact from the sheer embarrassment. “How awful I was to you when we first met.”
He’d think about it sometimes, wondering what made him be so terrible to someone who hadn’t done anything to him. Sometimes he’d have a glance at Pugsey, see that bright smile and those expressive eyes and the guilt would gnaw at him, because why had Pugsley even given him a chance after everything he’d done?
But then something unexpected happened; a simple statement that threw him off completely.
“It's okay. I'm not mad.”
And it made him want to scream. It made him want to - to grab Pugsley by the shoulders and shake him until he saw sense. He should be. By all rights, he should feel something. What Eugene did was cruel and awful and so unlike himself, or at least that's what he would have believed before he grew so conceited. He'd suffered alone until Wednesday came along, he should have understood.
“But you should be,” Eugene said, voice quiet, unable to look Pugsley in the eyes properly.
“Why?”
Pugsley blinked innocently, it made Eugene feel worse.
Because I don’t deserve you.
“I shouldn’t of done it,” he said, the shame weighing him down. “I’m really sorry.”
He was truly sorry. And he would have spent the rest of his life, or however long Pugsley wanted him, making it up to him.
Silence stretched over them briefly. Pugsley shifted into a position more comfortable. Then, with careful movements, he took Eugene’s face into both hands, his thumbs stroking, lips lifted into a warm smile. “I love you,” he said, slow and tender. “And I forgive you. I already forgave you.”
Eugene's breath got caught in his throat. It was so earnest and sweet. He didn’t feel like he deserved it at all. “You do?”
Instead of a verbal answer, he was drawn into a kiss. Pugsley’s lips were incredibly soft and able to render him weak and yearning for more every time.
When they pulled apart, just so, their foreheads remained touching.
“You - you really mean it?” Eugene murmured. “You’re not mad?”
“At you? Never.”