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If there was one thing Eugene knew how to do, it was panic.
So, when Pugsley Addams tripped over a tool box full of gardening tools and accidentally faceplanted into the ground while Eugene was checking out the plants, Eugene's first instinct was to scream and then fall into the mud beside him.
“What are you doing?” Pugsley said breathlessly trying to stand up. Wiping dirt off his cheek as Eugene sat beside him on the mud in an awkward position.
“I.. Solidarity?” Eugene offered, breathless. “You fell. I panicked. I fell.”
“You didn’t have to fall,” Pugsley said, voice deadpan but smirking slightly.
“No, but I didn’t want you to feel alone in your humiliation.”
Pugsley blinked at him.
Then, to Eugene’s surprise—he laughed. Not the laugh that he comes out of his mouth that sounds loud and booming but one that sounded genuinely amused and entertained.
It was short and quiet but they laughed together.
-----
It had been a weird few months.
After Pugsley’s dramatic mid-season arrival at Nevermore (Wednesday had warned him, “He’s way louder than me. That should scare you.” ), Eugene hadn’t really expected anything to come of it.
But Pugsley ended up being.. nice. In an Addams kind of way.
He definitely talked a lot, but when he was quiet and comfortable—it was usually something weird and oddly vulnerable. Like the time he asked Eugene what it felt like to be trusted by bees.
(“Sort of like being chosen by tiny little Gods who will absolutely sting you if you disrespect them.”)
Or the time he’d offered Eugene a cookie, then immediately said, “It’s not poisoned. I only do that to people I’m not flirting with.”
Eugene choked on the water he was drinking. Pugsley had stared, amusement clear in his eyes.
And then they’d moved on like nothing happened.
But everything had happened.
They weren’t dating—not officially at least. But they were something. Something that included shoulder touches, walks together with loud voices, and papers folded into bee-shaped origami. Pugsley kept one in his coat pocket.
Eugene pretended not to notice. Yet, he still did.
-----
And that’s how they ended up here. In the mud, surrounded by buzzing bees and the burn of new feelings.
“I think one of them likes you,” Eugene said, pointing to a particular horizontally challenged bumblebee that had landed on Pugsley’s sleeve.
“She knows I have the urge to get devoured by the natural ways of Mother Nature.” Pugsley said.
“..That’s.. comforting?”
Pugsley shrugged. “I’m just saying. If I died here, I’d want it to be by a queen.”
Eugene flushed bright red. “I—uh, feel the same?”
-----
They eventually got up, brushed themselves off, and returned to the hummers shed.
Eugene inspected the bees while Pugsley leaned against the wall like he was posing for a gothic romance BL novel. The air smelled like summer and smoke.
“You always bring people here?” Pugsley asked.
“No,” Eugene said too fast. “Just you.”
Pugsley raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m special or because I faceplanted in the greenhouse and you fell with me?”
“B-Both?” Eugene squeaked.
Pugsley didn’t say anything, but he smiled—a little smirk that made Eugene feel like his insides were teaming up to make him feel like that.
“You’re so weird,” Pugsley said, voice soft.
Eugene blinked. “You literally carry a dynamite with you incase ‘something’ happened.”
“And yet here you are,” Pugsley said. “Still crushing.”
Eugene froze. “Crushing?”
Pugsley didn’t take it back. Nor did he look away from him.
Eugene opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then panicked and did the worst possible thing he could’ve ever imagined himself doing.
He kissed Pugsley.
On the cheek.
Fast and awkward.
Pugsley was definitely caught off-guard.
Eugene backed up so fast he tripped over a can and hit the floor with a solid thud.
The bees buzzed louder, as if offended.
“I—I’m sorry I swear!” Eugene said from the ground.
“Are you apologizing for the kiss or the fall?” Pugsley asked, crouching down.
“Yes..? But mostly the kiss. I didn’t mean to. I mean I did, but not like that. And now I just—I ruined everything, and I can never look at you or the bees again and—”
Pugsley leaned down and kissed his forehead. Eugene went completely still.
Pugsley shrugged. “You looked like you were going to self-combust. I thought I’d come in.”
“I might combust now.” Eugene whispered.
“Let me know if I should stand back.”
-----
They didn’t talk about it for three days.
Not because it was awkward — but because neither of them were particularly good at talking especially since they know what happened. Instead, they returned to their usual rhythms. Sneaking snacks into class whenever they felt hungry, writing little notes to each other, and occasionally sitting so close their hands touched but never moved.
But the energy was different now.
Softer and real.
Eugene started wearing his lucky socks every time they hung out. Pugsley started smiling more—that sweet, genuine one, just for him.
-----
Then one day, Eugene had been inspecting a new hive box. Pugsley had been reading with him in the hummers shed.
Then Eugene said something dumb like, “Huh, they’re more active today.”
And Pugsley said something much dumber like, “Maybe they’re celebrating the fact that we realize we’re yearning each other, dunno.”
And before Eugene could even process his words, the bees just… burst out.
Like they understood. Like they, too—had been waiting for this moment of deeply suppressed feelings to finally come out.
Suddenly there were bees everywhere. Eugene screamed. Pugsley froze.
One landed on Eugene’s nose. Another one went in Pugsley’s hair.
“I think they’re into it?” Eugene gasped, trying not to move his face.
“They’re validating our mutual pining.” Pugsley said with complete seriousness.
“Why is this so romantic and so horrifying at the same time?”
“I don’t know,” Pugsley said. “But I think one just went inside my shirt.”
------
Eventually, the bees calmed down—maybe out of secondhand embarrassment for them.
Going outside nearby, sitting under a tree—Eugene sat down in the grass, chest heaving, sweat on his forehead. “I think we just got aggressively shipped by an entire hive.”
Pugsley dropped beside him, brushing a leaf out of Eugene’s hair. “Better than being stung by rejection.”
Eugene blinked. “Was that a line?”
“Maybe.”
“...”
“Did it work?” Pugsley asked, smiling and raising his brow.
“..”
Eugene laughed. He couldn't stop.
“You’re so stupid,” he said between breaths.
“So are you,” Pugsley replied, eyes bright.
They sat there for a long time, laughing loudly—and leaves blowing in the wind.
And when Eugene reached out and took Pugsley’s hand, the bees didn’t rush out.
They just hummed.