Archive of Our Own ^beta

Pugsley Addams was no expert on love. Well, not until he was thrown headfirst into it without any sort of prior warning. Like when Wednesday had pushed him into an ice-cold pool when he was 7. Awesome.

Pugsley had grown up around dramatic displays of love. Unwillingly, sure, but his parents had always been unashamed of their devotion to each other, unafraid of who might catch them in the throes of passion. Wednesday had always rolled her eyes before a kiss was exchanged. Pugsley usually opted for staring at the ceiling until it was over. 

He was 6 when Gomez decided to subject him to a long retelling of the moment he fell for Morticia. Pugsley hadn't been paying much attention. He was still caught up in the excitement of the near-perfect afternoon of father-son bonding they had. The smell of burning rope, the creak of the rack, his father’s delighted cackle every time he turned the crank another notch...what fun. All that was on little Pugsley's mind was the roasted crickets they were snacking on secretly before dinner. 

His attention, to his disappointment, had been drawn away from savoring the crunchy texture when his father addressed him directly, "-and you'll know it too, mijo. Oh, how the image of her consumed my every thought. It was sweet agony. One day, a girl will make you feel like that, and you'll know the delectable torture of your world shifting, never to be the same again."

Pugsley's nose had wrinkled up in a mix of doubt and distaste. The only other girl he talked to close to his age was his big sister, Wednesday. He's fine with keeping it that way. "Gross. No thanks. Girls are weird. And annoying."

Gomez had chuckled as if he knew better, chewing on one particularly burnt insect. "You'll change your mind, my boy. The right girl has a way of sneaking into your heart like poison. Delicious."

Pugsley hadn't believed him then. 

Technically, Gomez ended up being half-right. Someone had consumed his thoughts, made his world shift, entered his heart like poison. Only, it wasn't a girl. 

It was Eugene Ottinger. And Pugsley knows the exact moment love had struck him like electricity.

The moment was burned into his brain like a scar. A week after they'd first met in the dorms, Pugsley had been minding his own business sat by a bush near the Hummers' Shed, chewing on a earthworm like it was a gummy. A little off-flavour, but satisfactory. 

Eugene had run up to him with cupped, dirty hands, glasses sliding down his nose and curls wild, huffing as if he'd sprinted across campus just to get to him. Despite the fact that he was practically vibrating with excitement, he handled the bug in his hands 

“Look at this!” Eugene had said, his voice pitched high with enthusiasm, opening his hands just a little to reveal a beetle with a green body. “It’s a Calosoma scrutator! You know how rare they are around this area? They’re like the jaguars of beetles—predators, fast, and super shiny, you see? You can see the iridescence- look, see that shimmer? That’s due to microscopic texturing in the elytra-”

Pugsley hadn’t heard half of what he said. He didn't dare interrupt either. He just stared at him, nodding, watching Eugene’s hands move, the way his eyes lit up, the way his words tripped over themselves trying to keep up with his thoughts. He seemed so alive, in a way that made Pugsley's both jump and settle at the same time. It hit Pugsley then. 

This was it. He was it. 

The thought wasn't scary. Not confusing. Just factual.

Pugsley thought about it. Eugene was dorky, bossy, awkward, a little too sarcastic for his own good - but he was also passionate, brilliant, kind. The way he spoke about his bees with reverence made Pugsley want to listen to every word that spilled from his soft lips, even when he didn’t understand half of it. He’d fallen, plain and simple. And once he did, he didn’t want to look anywhere else.

Pugsley had mentioned it to his dad during the spring break, over a plate of blood sausages. Gomez instantly grinned, the moment a name left Pugsley's mouth. 

"Eugene Ottinger? That roommate of yours, isn't he? Wednesday's little beekeeper friend! A fine choice! He's a good egg. Perhaps you can ask him to sting you with his bees. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Already tried. He said no. And that I was weird." Pugsley sighs in disappointment, shaking his head at the memory. He still doesn't see what the big deal is. 

"Ah, what a shame. Well, no matter. You know what I think? You should shoot your shot."

Pugsley had raised an eyebrow, considering it. He frowned as he thought of Eugene's nervous flinches at sudden movements and startled stammers when spoken to unexpectedly. "I don't know, Dad, I don't think Eugene likes being shot. He's a little soft when it comes to that stuff. Scares easily."

"Not that kind of shooting, mijo. Although, that is a little disheartening." Gomez laughed at his literal interpretation, clapping a hand onto his son's shoulder. "I mean you should tell him how you feel about him. The heart is a demanding organ indeed, and feelings- ah, they always come out, one way or another! And Addams men are nothing if not bold with our feelings. You must go after what you want!"

Pugsley had thought about it. No, really, he did. For about a week straight. Every time Eugene's scoffed at him, every time Eugene's sharp tongue criticised his habits like a whip, every time Eugene's eye twitched at Pugsley's antics and muttered something under his breath about idiocy filled Pugsley's head.

It was…great. Honestly. Pugsley liked it. There was something warm about the way Eugene’s annoyance was directed at him, fuelling the spark in his chest his father had said would never fade. But it also seemed like a sign. Signs were important. Signs meant Eugene didn’t like him like that.

Not only that, but Eugene was guarded. And he did not make it easy for Pugsley to knock down his defenses.

The first night Eugene allowed Pugsley to hold him through the night was near the end of Pugsley's first year in Nevermore. Eugene had thrashed and screamed in his sleep; nothing new, but it had been worse. Pugsley had stood over his bed, admittedly a little uselessly, asking him questions that could only be classed as redundant under the circumstances.

And for some reason, instead of turning over and telling Pugsley to shut up, he'd looked up at him and tugged on his sleeve, a silent invitation to sit next to him. When Pugsley did, he sort of guessed the next logical step, which to him, was reaching out. One thing led to another, and Eugene was slowly relaxing in Pugsley's arms, stiffness fading away. 

Pugsley had been honoured Eugene trusted him. 

It only solidified his previous decision: he can't tell Eugene the truth. How can he? He still replays that very night in his head, remembering the feeling of Eugene's curls against the fingers he tentatively ran them through. The sight of Eugene's brow furrowing in sleep, as if he couldn't even catch a break in his dreams. The small whimper that had escaped Eugene's lips after a shiver racking his body.

Pugsley wasn't going to risk breaking that trust.

Instead, he focused on the memory of Eugene's damp lashes on closed eyelids, the few freckles across Eugene's nose where glasses hide them, the flushed cheeks still stained with tears. Pugsley, like the rest of the Addams, had always found the beauty in tragic things like that. Things that hurt. Eugene's beautiful, in his opinion, even like this.

To be honest, just being his friend isn't so bad. As long as he gets to continue to admiring Eugene from afar, what's the big deal? Friends was good. Friends meant he could be around Eugene all the time, hear him talk about bugs, and now apparently sometimes even cuddle, if he's lucky. Watch him smile at the bees like they're his children.

Pugsley liked watching that smile. He liked the way it crinkled the corners of Eugene’s eyes, how genuine it was. It felt especially good when that smile's reserved for him. 

His dad was wrong. Feelings don't have to come out, Pugsley thought, if you're smart enough. 

Then again, Pugsley wasn't always all that smart. 

Thank God, Pugsley wasn't all that smart. Otherwise he would've never gotten to call Eugene Ottinger his boyfriend.

It's almost routine at this point at Nevermore. A threat nearby in Jericho, a lockdown in place on the school so students can't go into town, a tighter curfew, yadda yadda. Boring. Pugsley wishes he could go out and look for the threat. That'd be exciting. Lockdowns were the worst. It means he can't go out into the woods, and there's only so much fun one can have in a shed full of bees. Not that he'd tell Eugene that.

Pugsley crouches by the fence behind the Hummers' Shed, reaching out just beyond to grab the bugs hiding under a rock. Perfect. Some of them, he can give to Eugene. It's totally romantic. The others he can eat, and Eugene'll never know. So he won't have to sit through the lecture about respecting bug lives. Again. Although that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Pugsley can just zone out and stare at Eugene's face again. 

He could've sworn he told Eugene earlier where he was going. Apparently not.

He only realises that when he hears a furious "Pugsley!"

He turns around to see Eugene marching towards him, footsteps quick, uneven, panicked. Pugsley stands, startled, opening his mouth to ask what the matter is, but denied the chance when Eugene slams into him before he can even speak, arms locking tight around his middle. Pugsley stumbles, before steadying himself and resting his hands on Eugene's arms, managing to get out, "Hey, woah- Eugene? What- hey, are you okay?"

Eugene's arms only tighten. His breath comes out harsh against Pugsley's neck, a dead giveaway that he's been rushing around. "I've been looking for you all day," he whispers, voice shaky, "I-I thought you left campus, or went looking for- I don't know! God, you scared me. Don't do that."

Pugsley blinks, still trying to process the sight of Eugene - perpetually composed, perpetually irritated Eugene - clutching him like never before. 

“Eugene,” Pugsley says softly, smiling despite the confusion. “I’m fine. I was just-”

He doesn't get to finish.

Eugene’s lips crash into his — sudden, fierce, all emotion and no hesitation. With the kind of fire Gomez always described as divine. Pugsley automatically raises his hands slightly, no longer touching Eugene to avoid burning him, small sparks of electricity flying out of his hands from surprise. That shock only lasts a second before Pugsley calms himself, melting into it, hands finding their way to Eugene’s waist, pulling him in gently, but with enough assertiveness to make Eugene let out a sound against his mouth.

When they finally pull apart for air, Eugene’s face is a delightful shade of pink, almost the same colour as his lips, his breathing uneven. Pugsley beams. “If this is what happens when you worry, I should disappear more often.”

“Don’t you dare,” Eugene mutters automatically, but his eyes gave him away - soft, terrified, undoubtably fond.

Eugene drags him by the hand all the way to their dorm, and Pugsley lets him, forgetting about the bugs entirely. Oh well. He can always find more another day. 

When the door shuts all the way, Eugene pulls Pugsley close again for another kiss. Pugsley doesn't complain one bit. Score. It's rare Eugene initiates physical affection between them, let alone this much, all at once. When Eugene breaks away again, Pugsley stares at him, dazed. But he hasn't lost his penchant for mischief, unable to resist teasing. 

"So how long were you losing your mind over me for?"

"Pugsley."

"No seriously, did you ask around? Did you agonise over my absence? Did your mind replay the terrible possibility that I could've been hurt?"

"I kind of want to hurt you right now," Eugene tells him flatly.

"Ooh, yes, please!"

"Freak. You're a lot better when you're not talking, you know that, right?"

Pugsley's smile is wide, and he's clearly about to reciprocate with another snarky remark, but Eugene grabs his collar and yanks him in close. Just before their lips can touch, Eugene stops and murmurs quietly,

"Stop talking."

Just like that, Pugsley nods. Which is an incredibly wise decision, given that Eugene pushes Pugsley back to sit on the edge of the bed and climbs into his lap for yet another round of making out. Pugsley's hands come up to cup Eugene's face, and in between a kiss, he can't help but breathe out,

"I love you."

The old Eugene would've resisted. Perhaps rolled his eyes or avoided eye contact altogether. This Eugene doesn't. He smiles, hands moving from Pugsley's shoulders to wrap his arms around Pugsley's neck.

"I love you too."

When they lose themselves in the moment again, lips brushing together once more, Pugsley thinks,

So this is what Dad meant.