Chapter Text
Pugsley had never been this excited for anything before.
On Monday, Eugene had sheepishly asked Pugsley if he wished to go with him to his house over the weekend. Pugsley, of course, had nodded and said yes to the question so many times, you would have thought that Eugene had gotten on one knee and asked for his hand in marriage.
Pugsley had never been at a sleepover before, let alone slept multiple nights over at someone's house (excluding Uncle Fester's). This was a first for him, and an exciting one at that.
He had met one of Eugene's moms before — Janet, he recalled. Mrs. Ottinger had seemed lovely, at least from what he remembered from the fleeting moment he had seen her. Sweet, with a warm accent he couldn't quite place — definitely not originating from New England. He often wondered if both of Eugene's moms spoke like that. He wondered why Eugene didn't. Thoughts of Eugene with that same darling accent made Pugsley smile to himself quite often. Even if his boyfriend spoke like that, it wouldn't have mattered much, because Pugsley would've been in love all the same.
Friday morning, the two had woken up in Pugsley's bed: the lower bunk, with striped bedsheets and a lumpy pillow Pugsley enthusiastically insisted was comfortable.
As soon as Pugsley's eyes opened, his mouth widened into a shining, genuine smile, full of love and excitement.
"Why are you smiling so goddamn early in the morning?" Eugene had asked, voice hoarse with sleepy disorientation. He barely had the strength to reach over Pugsley to grab his glasses from the nightstand.
"Because," Pugsley pulled Eugene in closer, preventing escape from the warm bed. "We're going over to your house today!" he squealed, smothering Eugene's scrunched-up face in open-mouthed kisses. Eugene squealed something about something being gross, despite his matching smile and soft giggles.
"Calm down," Eugene told Pugsley as he pushed his face away. "We have to survive hours of classes before Mom picks us up."
Pugsley groaned loudly, a sound so loud it could have rivalled a lion's roar. Eugene knew he was exaggerating, the drama queen that he is.
"Can't we ask Mrs. Ottinger to pick us up like, right now?"
"Even if she agrees to that idea, which she won't, the drive up takes like three hours, Pugs."
"Ugh!"
Eugene huffed, turning his head to look at the analog alarm clock on the nightstand, before turning back to face Pugsley.
"We should get dressed, they started serving breakfast 10 minutes ago."
Pugsley was about to complain, before his stomach did all the talking for him with a rumble loud enough to wake the dead.
"...Okay," he frowned pitifully, attempting to make Eugene feel bad and stay with him in bed. Eugene recognised this all too well, rolling his eyes and getting up out of bed with a smirk.
The afternoon couldn't come fast enough.
Sitting through hours and hours of boring lectures and demonstrations was boring Pugsley to the brink of death. His last class — something to do with electrophysics, he didn't really care — was the most boring, it being mandatory to sparks and all.
Eugene wasn't sitting next to him, jotting down notes, pursing his lips as he focused — just being his pretty self. He wasn't there. The lucky bastard's weekend began an hour ago, whilst Pugsley had to go attend this stupid class with a stupid professor. He pouted like a baby, wishing he was with Eugene.
What was Eugene even doing right now? Pugsley tapped his pencil on his chin as he mused, smiling slightly at the thought of his boyfriend.
Maybe he was doing his homework to avoid doing it during their epic weekend getaway to Massachusetts. Maybe he was taking a nap, cuddled up under Pugsley's duvet, in Pugsley's clothes. Maybe he was at the shed, checking up on his bees for one last time before the trip.
Pugsley missed Eugene, despite having been only a single hour away from him.
He couldn't wait for this class to be over.
"Finally! Hey, flaco," Pugsley exhaled as he closed the door to their dorm. The day was finally over, and now all he had to do was relax and wait for Mrs. Ottinger to pick them up.
Eugene, as per Pugsley's imagination, sat at his desk, out of uniform, scribbling away at a Latin worksheet. "Oh, hi Pugs," he mumbled, head sunk deep into the ocean of homework before him.
"When's Mrs. Ottinger coming?"
"She said she would be here at around four," he finally lifted his head up to face Pugsley. "Also, you can just say my Mom, y'know. Mrs. Ottinger sounds like she's our teacher."
"Okay, your Mom," Pugsley giggled, making Eugene snort. He rolled his eyes in the cute way he always did, returning to his homework.
Pugsley crossed the room over to Eugene, tossing his bag onto his bed as he walked.
"Latin, huh? I still don't get why you chose that over, like, French or something."
"I chose it because it's an interesting language with a more fascinating history."
Pugsley leaned over Eugene's back, resting his head on Eugene's shoulder as he examined Eugene's enchanting handwriting on the grainy worksheet that looked like it had passed 3 printers and 6 photocopiers before landing on Eugene's desk.
"You don't need to know all of that," Pugsley nuzzled his face into Eugene's neck, not missing the way Eugene's breath hitched at the touch on his sensitive skin. "Just remember that ego tē amō."
"...You specifically love me?"
"Well, yeah, I want to be the one that loves you."
"You know that could be considered grammatically incorrect, on account of Latin being a pro-drop language."
"My heart's correct, and I'd never drop you." Pugsley loved to tease Eugene.
Eugene reached behind his back, squeezing Pugsley's lower thigh with malicious intent. Pugsley flinched at the sudden contact, body jerking back. Mission accomplished.
"You're so easy to rile up."
"Shut up and change into proper clothes, mom's gonna be here anytime now!" Eugene said, closing his book with a huff, giving Pugsley a glare so vile it almost hurt Pugsley (not that he would mind the pain).
Pugsley smiled, and like any good boyfriend, obeyed Eugene. He walked over to his closet, pulling out sweatpants and a sweater. He began undressing himself slowly, unbuttoning his shirt in a manner he knew Eugene was going to be keen on observing. He shrugged the button-up off, tossing it onto his bed, before moving to undo his belt and unzip his pants.
He dared to glance up, and sure enough — Eugene's eyes were fixated on his bare skin, before flinching at getting caught and unsubtly snapping his head back towards his desk. So cute.
"What? You told me to get changed."
"Yeah, get changed," Eugene hissed, raising his left hand up to shield his eyes from Pugsley's body. "I didn't ask for a striptease!"
"You complain about being well off."
"Fuck you."
"I know you want to," Pugsley said in a sing-song voice.
Before Eugene could get up and strangle Pugsley to death, his phone screen lit up, ringtone echoing in the room. He picked up the phone with unstable hands, raising it up to his ear.
"Hello, mom?" Eugene spoke, the recipient on the other end being Mrs. Ottinger made Pugsley insanely happy. He changed clothes quickly, messily folding his uniform and throwing it onto his bed. He was glad he didn't have to pack now, having done everything the prior evening (thanks to Eugene's orderliness).
"Yeah, we'll be down in a minute. Yeah. Yeah. Okay, bye." Eugene shoved his phone into his pocket, grabbing his jacket and putting it on. "Come on, she's here."
"Yes!" Pugsley pumped his fist, making Eugene smile. He put his own coat on, before grabbing his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder. He made an effort to carry Eugene's bag too, before Eugene took it from his hands.
"You don't need to carry my bags, Pugs."
"Yeah, but, you're my príncipe. I live to please you, chiqui."
Eugene scoffed, before grabbing Pugsley's arm as they walked out of the room. "You're insufferable."
"I wouldn't wanna be anything else."
"Mom!" Eugene exclaimed as he ran into Mrs. Ottinger's arms, a lady unfamiliar to Pugsley, only having seen her in photos.
"Baby," she kissed his forehead and his cheeks, making him embarrassed. "And you must be Pugsley, my — you look so much like Wednesday!"
"Hi Mrs. Ottinger," he sheepishly greeted her, not knowing what to do with his hands as she approached him.
"Please, it's Sue," she said as she embraced Pugsley in a motherly hug. She smelled like vanilla and the same curly hair products Eugene used. She let go, examining his face properly, before turning to face both of the boys before her.
"Ready to go?"
"Yeah! I'm so tired," Eugene nodded, walking to the car, Pugsley following.
"Me too," Pugsley said, feeling a bit awkward and out of place. He knew he was safe, though, and a weekend with Eugene's family didn't sound bad at all.
"Great, then let's get this show on the road!" Mrs. Ottinger — Sue said, rubbing her hands.
The car ride was smooth, and exciting all the same — Pugsley had never sat in a car this small, and yet he felt much more comfortable here, compared to the sleek black car Lurch drove around. Eugene and Pugsley sat in the back while Sue drove them down forest-y New England roads, autumn foliage decorating the world in enchanting colors.
Pugsley learned a lot of things about Eugene's family during the ride.
Firstly, that everyone in the Ottinger family seemed to be huge fans of soft rock songs, Pugsley familiarizing himself with Fleetwood Mac's discography one hour into the car ride. He watched as Sue tapped her fingers on the steering wheel to the songs that played, while Eugene hummed quietly, not noticing the way Pugsley noticed everything he did.
Secondly, that the defining traits of the Ottinger family were curiousity and talking — or rather rambling. He had lost track of how many times Sue had posed questions about things like school, his family and his ambitions. She happily chimed in with her own thoughts and remarks, Eugene joining her quite often. Their way of showing interest was foreign to Pugsley, and yet, despite being nervous about being the highlight of the hour, it was so sweet to him.
Eugene knew all about the Addams, having been friends with Wednesday for quite a while, and dating Pugsley. Pugsley however, barely knew anything about the Ottingers. He felt a bit bad, because asking Eugene about his family life had totally escaped him. Still, he reassured himself that it was absolutely fine, because this weekend would be his opportunity to get to know them all properly.
The ride to the Ottinger house was long, but warm and fulfilling. Pugsley had never enjoyed a car ride this much, although he knew it was because of Eugene falling asleep on his shoulder during the last 30 minutes of the ride.
They arrived to the house half past 7 p.m., the sky dark and the air cold and crispy with autumnal chill. Waking up Eugene after the ride was painful, because Pugsley had felt immense guilt and sadness for disturbing his well-earned peace.
He needed to pee, though, so waking Eugene up was a must.
The trio got out of the car, and walked down the mossy cobblestone path to Eugene's house: a large brown house, windows shining an orange hue onto the dewy grass lawn. The front yard was painted with wildflowers and pretty-looking weeds. To Pugsley, the house looked like something straight out of a 90s rom-com — a house from something Enid would have forced them to watch during movie night.
Sue fumbled with her keys, before finally opening the front door and letting them all in.
"Janet, honey? We're home!"
"Coming!" a voice called from somewhere deep in the house.
Pugsley took in the view before him. If outside of the house looked fairy-like, the interior looked whimsical.
A long, deep-red Persian rug greeted them as they entered, string lights — most probably forgotten from Christmas — twinkling as they wrapped around the white staircase before them.
"Let me get your coat, Pugs," Eugene offered, Pugsley's jaw hanging only slightly open, amazed from the warmth of everything around them.
"Oh, my sweetheart," Janet's voice approached them with light footsteps dancing on the golden wooden floor. She pulled Eugene in for a tight, tight hug, peppering his curly head of hair in kisses. "Welcome home my darling."
"Hi Mama," Eugene hugged her back. If there was anything the Ottingers were, it was being loving, and showing it proudly.
"Pugsley, my dear, you look like you've grown!" she smiled, grabbing Pugsley's hand and squeezing it with both of her's.
"Janet, let the boys breathe, they're tired," Sue interrupted, chuckling as she hung her keys up.
"Are you two hungry? Did y'all eat on the way? I've got food on the stove ready for eating!" she asked, twisting her hands around slightly, nervously, just like Eugene sometimes did.
"We're starving, mama," Eugene said. "We'll take our stuff to my room and come down to eat." Pugsley nodded, too overwhelmed by everything around him to say anything coherent.
As if Pugsley wasn't feeling welcomed enough, Janet gave them a smile so comforting he could feel it in every limb. "You boys take your time, come down when you're ready!"
Eugene nodded, then signaled for Pugsley to follow him with a soft little "c'mon" and a wave of his hand. Pugsley followed him up the stairs like nothing else mattered.
They walked down the upstairs corridor to the last room at the end of it. Eugene's room's door was white, with old, colorful stickers scattered across its entirety — presumably remains of his childhood.
"Okay, my room— it's not the best, okay?" Eugene worried, hand resting on the handle hesitatingly.
"Cariño, your room is a reflection of your true self. I love you wholly, and I know I'll love your room, too," Pugsley reassured his boyfriend, kissing his temple. Thank god his speaking skills had returned.
Eugene smiled, exhaled, then slowly turned the handle and opened the door to his room, flicking the overhead light on.
Whatever Pugsley was expecting to see, was totally underwhelming in comparison to what he actually saw.
Eugene's room wasn't small, but it wasn't that large, either. His bed was made, yellow plaid bedsheets and pillows contrasting the dark wood of his bedframe softly. His walls were covered in botanical wall art and movie posters, ranging from superhero movies to sci-fi action movies — Star Wars, he recognised those.
Bookshelves full of books and other trinkets like action figures, his desk full of crafting supplies from his childhood, an array of different video games Pugsley had never seen before. A red fuzzy carpet, yellow bee-themed curtains, and small star-shaped plastic pieces littered on the ceiling.
If Eugene's bedroom needed describing, Pugsley would've described it as nothing more or less than just Eugene. The whole room screamed Eugene, and he was enamored by it.
"This is... Wow," Pugsley took in the view.
Eugene shuffled nervously. "What do you think?"
Pugsley set his backpack on the floor, next to Eugene's bed, before embracing Eugene in his arms, almost lifting him from the sheer love he felt.
"I love it."
He let Eugene down, admiring him as he pushed his glasses up.
"I'm glad."
Dinner was perfect.
Pugsley got to try Janet's famous chicken noodle soup — a hearty, fatty broth full of little noodles and pieces of chicken, celery and carrots, paired with cloud-fluffy brioche buns. It was unlike anything Pugsley had eaten before, and he had to stop himself from asking for thirds, because he didn't want to seem like he was going to devour the whole table. Eugene's moms seemed very pleased with him, as did Eugene.
He thanked Janet profusely for the meal, and the boys bid Eugene's moms good night, before going back upstairs to get ready for bed.
"For a guy that eats cockroaches, I wasn't expecting mama's soup to be such a hit with you," Eugene chuckled.
The two were now tucked in under Eugene's duvet, after brushing their teeth in the tiny upstairs bathroom with the flickering light and impossibly cold floor-tiles.
"Are you joking? I think that was the best thing I've ever eaten," Pugsley gasped, grabbing onto Eugene's hand. "I'm so excited for breakfast."
"Wow, you're not excited to spend the weekend with me, then?" Eugene asked, a certain teasing undertone in his voice.
"Chiqui," Pugsley brought Eugene's hand up to his face, kissing his fingers one by one. "I'm excited to spend the rest of my life with you."
"Not because of my Mama's soup?"
"Not because of her soup."
Eugene seemed satisfied with this answer, kissing Pugsley softly.
"Good night then, Pugs."
"Good night, tesoro, I love you."
Eugene nuzzled closer to Pugsley's chest, pulling the duvet up higher.
"Ego tē amō."