Archive of Our Own ^beta

Pugsley excused himself from the gala hours ago. Or at least, it felt like hours. His family argued all night over his grandmother’s questionable actions these past few days, donating her entire fortune to the school, and even going as far as making herself the “Belle of the Ball” as Principal Dort had put it.

It didn’t take much of an effort to slip away unnoticed from the dinner table while Dort discussed his plans to reshape the whole school. He didn’t have any trouble making himself invisible. He was more of an afterthought anyways—always left in the quiet aftermath of Wednesday’s spectacles. It was just the natural order of things.

Pugsley shoved his way through the crowd, pushing past people on his way to the stone steps outside where the air was cooler.

There, Eugene sat on a cold stone ledge, clutching an empty jar between his palms. The night air nipped at his fingers. His moths still hadn’t come back, and the silence in his head where their faint hum should’ve been was making him restless.

“Have your moths reported back yet on Slurp?”

Eugene turned to look at him, startled slightly at the voice.

“No.” He said, rising to his feet. Pugsley stood a few steps away, looking oddly out of place in his costume, his jester hat was clutched in his right hand, expression unreadable.

Pugsley didn’t respond, didn’t even nod. He just stared at Eugene, unusually calm for someone like him. The faint glow of the ballroom spilled through the open doors behind him.

“Why aren’t you inside with your family?” Eugene asked.

Pugsley’s shoulders lifted in a faint shrug, letting his arms fall to his sides. “Doubt they’ve even noticed I’m gone,” he smirked. But it didn’t reach his eyes. Didn’t hold that usual glimpse of mischief.

Eugene frowned, unsure how to respond. Comfort wasn’t exactly his strong suit. Sure, they grew closer over the semester, but he still wasn’t sure where their relationship stood. He wanted to believe they were more than acquaintances. Maybe even friends, as annoying as he was. And truth be told, Eugene might have also caught feelings for the boy. Though, he would never tell him that, of course.

When Pugsley sighed and turned to leave, Eugene’s hand shot out before his brain could catch up—suddenly, impulsively, gripping his sleeve like a lifeline.

Pugsley stopped in his tracks, glancing down at the hand on his arm, then back up at Eugene, trying to read his expression for any explanation as to why he held him back. But the look Eugene gave him told him he didn’t have one.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Their pulses drummed loudly in their ears, and Eugene opened his mouth to speak, but quickly snapped it shut. Why had he done that? What would he even say? He should have been grateful Pugsley was going to leave him alone for once, because with him, it always felt like standing on a trapdoor that could swing open at any second.

Still, something about the other boy’s voice—flat but tired—sat heavy in his chest. A pesky thought nabbed at him. For some reason, unbeknownst to him, he didn’t want Pugsley to be alone tonight.

Realizing he was still holding on, Eugene quickly let go of his sleeve, his hand burning with embarrassment. He adjusted his glasses, fiddling with the jar just to have something to do with his hands. Looking anywhere but at him.

“I don’t think the moths are coming tonight,” he mumbled. “And I’m kind of… bored. So, uh, do you maybe wanna hang out somewhere? I saw where the teachers keep the adult beverages.”

Pugsley blinked, then his eyes widened, a genuine grin finally splitting his face. “Really? Just the two of us?”

Eugene’s face went hot. “Y-Yeah. Just us.”

“Well, then lead the way, Your Majesty.” Pugsley gave a mock bow, poking fun at Eugene’s prince costume before spinning him around by the shoulders. His mood was back to its usual beat.

Eugene stumbled a little, but he couldn’t deny Pugsley’s sudden change in mood didn't make him soften a little. “You better not make me regret this…” he muttered under his breath.

"No promises." Pugsley chuckled behind him, steering Eugene towards the busy entrance where they slipped back inside, weaving through the edge of the crowd where the teachers gathered near their personal table.

They were slightly hidden by the pleasant glow from there, Pugsley pointed, grinning. Eugene rolled his eyes but followed his lead, sliding a bottle of wine beneath his coat. Pugsley smirked, pulling Eugene back outside, headed for the dorms.

Eugene didn’t argue. He just let himself be tugged back into the cool air and up the shadowed steps toward their dorm. A faint warmth tugging at his chest.

They crept down the hall like they were breaking into a crime scene instead of their own room—Eugene clutching the hidden bottle under his tail coat, Pugsley trying and failing to hold in his laughter.

“Shh,” Eugene hissed, fumbling for the doorknob. “You’re gonna get us caught.”

Pugsley leaned close, voice low but teasing. “Relax, no one’s here but us. Besides, I’m stealthy.”

“As stealthy as a marching band.” Eugene muttered, pushing the door open, Pugsley slipping in after him.

Once inside, the dim lamplight made everything feel smaller, warmer. Eugene set the wine on the desk and turned, arms crossed. “You realize if we get caught with this, we’re both in detention till graduation.”

Pugsley shrugged, plopping down on the bed without a care. “It was your idea. Plus, it’s worth it. First real excitement this gala has been through.”

“That’s because your definition of excitement involves probable suspension,” Eugene said, though there was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Pugsley noticed. “You’re smiling,” he accused lightly.

“I’m grimacing.”

“Sure you are.”

For a moment, the room was quiet except for their shared laughter breaking through the hush. It was soft, easy. Not the kind of trouble Eugene usually found himself in—maybe that’s why he didn’t hate it.

“Fine,” he sighed. “But if anyone asks, this was your idea.”

Pugsley grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of denying it.”

Eugene shrugged off his orange tailcoat and gestures toward the laces running down the back of his vest, an action that the boy understood immediately.

Pugsley got up from the bed promptly, walking to the smallest of the two. He crossed the room swiftly, the floorboards creaking softly under his feet as he came to stand behind Eugene, nimble fingers meeting the first knot behind the pale-colored vest he wore and untied with slow precision, his breath warming the back of Eugene’s neck.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation that ran through his skin. “I don’t know why I’m so reckless around you,” Eugene said quietly, half to himself. “You’re the only one who ever sees this side of me.”

Behind him, Pugsley let out a small laugh—low, uncertain. “Guess I bring out the worst in people.”

“Or the best,” Eugene said before he could stop himself.

Pugsley took an audible deep breath, burning Eugene’s neck pleasantly once again. His hands stilled for a moment, then kept working, slower this time. He untied the second knot, the tight piece slowly loosening through his body, and Eugene released the air he didn't know he was holding.

Pugsley smiled when he noticed. "Was it too tight?"

Eugene smiled, breathing normally again. “Terribly. I hate these things. I could barely breathe.”

"I can't imagine. They look like torture devices," He said, loosening the strings one by one. "As much fun as that seems, you don’t need it. Your waist is already… uh…" Pugsley scratched his neck, falling into a restless and sudden silence.

Eugene raised an eyebrow, curious. Pugsley rarely told him about his appearance. "What?"

If he turned around, he would notice the blush blooming on Pugsley's arched face, but fortunately he continued with his back turned to him, watching the lamplight burning beautifully in the dark of the room.

"Your waist is already small enough," he finished the thought, his voice a little lower than usual. He unlaced the last loops, already arriving at Eugene’s waist. His fingers ghosted there, over his white button shirt.

"You don't need to torture yourself for historical accuracy, is what I’m trying to get at. I’d gladly do it for you instead." His voice softened on the last word, and it did something strange to Eugene’s heartbeat.

When the final knot came loose, Pugsley stepped back, letting his hands fall slowly, finally moving away appropriately from the boy. The air between them seemed to hum—quiet but charged, like something unsaid was pressing against the walls.

Eugene unclasped the rest of the buttons in front of his vest, careful as to not bend the boning inside. He turned around, vest folded neatly in his hands, and found Pugsley watching him with that steady, unreadable look, feeling his heart on the tip of his tongue, throbbing quickly, as if he had just died and come back to life.

Pugsley had that serious look on his face. So, so chivalrous that it irritated him, and Eugene had to literally cling to the vest so as not to do something tremendously stupid, like grabbing that stupid ruffled collar around Pugsley’s neck and pulling him against his lips.

How would he react? What would be the sound that would leave his lips before colliding with Eugene’s? What color would his eyes be when they widened adorably? What would be the texture of his lips, its taste, its sensation…?

Eugene feigned a cough, turning to the table next to his bed, tossing the vest on it. "Do you, uh… want a glass? Or in this case, a few sips?" He held the bottle of wine in his hands, trying to sound relaxed and playful. He hoped Pugsley wouldn't realize how terrified he was. How needy he was. How in love he was. It was painful, but it was also the best thing that ever happened to him.

Falling for Pugsley was almost as natural as the clumsy flight of bumblebees droning through fields. It happened so slowly Eugene almost hadn’t noticed when it started—like drifting down the rocky course of a river he never meant to follow, but couldn’t imagine leaving now. It wasn’t simple, or safe, but it was real. And that was enough.

This certainty was as strong as the certainty that people lived and breathed. Eugene had no one to blame but himself. Of course he’d fall for him.

Eugene watched as Pugsley pulled the strings loose on his costume and let it fall to the floor without a care, still wearing his usual striped sweater underneath. Typical.

“Figures,” Eugene said, a laugh threatening to escape.

Pugsley only grinned, grabbing the bottle. “What? You expected something else?”

His lips brushed the rim, then he tilted his head back, drinking straight from it with the knowledge of someone who’d done this many times before. The lamplight slid over his throat — the curve of his Adam’s apple, the slow rise and fall of breath, the soft wet sound that followed each swallow.

Eugene was hypnotized. For a moment he forgot how to breathe, every nerve alive, every inch of him burning from the inside out.

Pugsley lowered the bottle with a satisfied sigh, his lips curling into a lazy, triumphant smile as he extended it toward Eugene, who accepted it with a red face.

"I don't know how to do this like you,” he murmured, voice smaller than he wanted it to be.

"Practice leads to perfection,” Pugsley said, his tone dipping just enough to sound dangerous. “Is there a better teacher than me?" He questioned, with that soft and stupidly flirtatious tone of his.

"I’m not stroking your ego." Eugene rolled his eyes — or tried to. His pulse was far too loud in his ears to sound convincing.

But he was right. Above all else, he would like to truly learn how to drink with Pugsley— the boy who kept watching him with that bright and oh, so kissable smile. Honestly, he wanted Pugsley to teach him everything about life. He’s probably lived enough adventures to fulfill an entire lifetime.

He took the bottle to his lips, enjoying the sweet mix of the other’s saliva and pretended that it was Pugsley’s lips, connected to his own. He closed his eyes, finally turning the bottle, all the liquor going down his throat in an expected, but still surprising, burning sensation.

When he drank, he let himself imagine that it wasn’t the wine burning down his throat — He pictured smoky, dark eyes and pale skin in the low light. The image hit too vividly, and he choked on it, coughing, eyes watering. He lowered the bottle, handing it to Pugsley while wiping away the strong taste of wine from his mouth.

Pugsley laughed, reaching for the bottle again with a very convinced look in his eyes, his grin sharp and fond all at once. "Are you sure you don't need a teacher?"

Eugene's cheeks burned. "There’s no pride in knowing how to drink,” he managed between coughs. “Stop looking so smug."

“Of course there is,” Pugsley said, setting the bottle aside to kick off his shoes, voice lazy and teasing. “Otherwise I couldn’t outdrink my dad."

Eugene rolled his eyes. "You're built different, I guess."

"And you’re uptight." Pugsley tugged his sweater off and tossed it aside, leaving only a thin black T-shirt and the flash of pale arms in the dim light.

Eugene bit the inside of his cheek, turning away before his eyes could betray him. It was difficult to stutter any syllable when Pugsley acted like that, so confident and so... attractive. As if he knew.

He didn’t trust his voice, so he said the first thing that came to mind. "I’m not uptight. I break the rules now, remember?" He said, grabbing the bottle and moving to sit on the other side of the bed.

“Mm-hm.” The sound was amused. “Barely.”

Eugene heard the metallic sound of Pugsley’s belt clattering on the floor, running his tongue absently over his braces, and bringing the bottle to his lips again, feeling the pleasant buzz of alcohol warming his insides.

"Besides, you’ve probably been drinking since you were four. Shouldn't you be a little more careful?" Eugene questioned, not leaving aside his slightly acidic tone in the question.

Pugsley had this bad habit of leaving the dorms on free nights to sneak into his dad’s fancy liquor cabinets at the cottage his parents stayed in, drinking ounces and ounces of expensive gins and brandies. Somehow he always managed to sneak back in unnoticed despite stumbling and swaying the entire way back, finally flopping on the mattress. No doubt his father knew. But that was his synonym for fun.

Eugene didn't understand, honestly.

They could have a lot more fun together if they hung out outside of Slurp. They could dance drunkenly through the halls, play the most diverse games, talk between large shots of alcohol. They could even run away together for one night, and then watch the sunrise in the distant hills. Or Eugene could spend the rest of the night trying to keep up with Pugsley’s sleep schedule, staying up for hours talking like they were right now, on the same bed, with hands that would touch him with so much devotion and a mouth that would make him feel so good...

"Two, actually." Pugsley cut in, continuing the conversation as if Eugene hadn’t been imagining the other on top of him, body swaying furiously, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his hungry eyes watching Eugene just below him. God, he must be drunk already. He shook his head, leaning his back against the wooden headboard, finally letting his eyes fall on him.

The bed dipped as Pugsley sat back down beside him, now in his pajama pants, hair messily perfect, seeming to be extremely comfortable. He took another sip and stretched out across the bed, hair a tousled mess, grin lazy and content. Eugene stared a little too long, the scent of wine and dust filled the quiet.

Pugsley looked at him in the corner of the bed, cheeks flushed, and still in his costume. "I like to live life to the fullest, ultimately for the chaos and thrill. That's why I drag you around all the time,” He said softly, almost sincerely. “You really need it."

The words landed somewhere deep in Eugene’s chest. He bit his tongue, feeling his heartbeat there. It was as if it had fallen slowly from the top of the school’s tower. Pugsley always made him feel that way with his words and his deep looks. He could only look down at the bottle, pretending not to feel everything at once.

Eugene swallowed hard at last, realizing that his throat was dry and took another swig of the wine. Pugsley let out a little snort at that.

"What?" Eugene questioned, grateful for the change of subject to distract him from the growing tension. He didn't know what else to do when Pugsley continued speaking with that deep voice, and the intense look that was turned to him.

Pugsley shrugged, approaching like a cat on the bed to sit next to Eugene, his face bathed by the dim lamplight ahead, playful as ever. "You judge me for drinking, but you’re the one who stole the bottle. Curious, isn't it?"

"Not at all, actually." Eugene replied, extending the bottle to him, and Pugsley accepted the drink with gratitude. "I’m judging you for being proud of it."

Pugsley leaned back on his elbows, watching Eugene through hooded eyes. “Harsh. But fair.”

Pugsley sipped the wine. His shoulders fell, more relaxed, and also so grateful for the power the alcohol carried. He thought Eugene, more than anyone, deserved to relax a little. He wished it could bring him some peace, even if it was for a short and insignificant time. He took another sip and stretched out across the bed, hair a tousled mess, grin lazy and content. "I'm not proud of it, I just like to annoy you."

“You’re terrible.”

Pugsley smirked, now lying on the pillows. "Don’t I know it.”

Eugene couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the way Pugsley’s eyes softened in the half-light, but suddenly the air felt too thick, too still. His pulse thudded against his ribs like it wanted out.

Pugsley’s hair tousled wonderfully, like a painting that should be hung in the corridors where everyone would appreciate the worthy beauty. Smiling and messy, beautiful and untouchable. And worse, right there within reach.

Pugsley handed Eugene the bottle, as if he knew he was melting with so much passion, and Eugene readily accepted, taking a long and agonizing sip, coughing only a little less this time. Pugsley laughed that loud and scandalous laugh, and Eugene wanted very much to simply kiss him to shut him up.

He couldn't, of course. That's why he was content with just lying next to him, pretending to be offended by the laughter, no matter how much he liked it.

 "Actually," Pugsley continued the line of reasoning, which Eugene didn't even remember what it was now. They had talked so much already, and the bottle was nearly empty now. All that was on his mind was Pugsley’s hazy eyes and his moist lips, already bitten by himself as he always did when he got lost in thoughts. "It's not even that fun. But it's the only thing you can do around here."

Eugene blinked, trying to remember what he had just said. It was very difficult to think about anything other than Pugsley, Pugsley, Pugsley.

"What?"

Pugsley turned to face him, meeting Eugene’s eyes and smiled to the point his eyes almost disappeared, cheeks red as apples. Eugene wanted nothing more than to bite them off his adorable face.

"Drunk already?" Pugsley teased.

"I’m not.”

Pugsley smiled even more, propping himself up on his elbows and getting closer to the point where Eugene could feel his breath on his face. "I don’t think I've ever witnessed you in such a state. It's funny, but also adorable."

"I don't appreciate being called funny, nor adorable." Eugene snapped back, raising his chin to try to pass some credibility there, but that only pulled a laugh from the other.

"I know, that's why I said it and I'll keep repeating it."

"Well," Eugene continued, now a little more awake, although he still felt extremely warm and light. "You're annoying." He decided, proud of his own words, but Pugsley’s face was red from laughing so much. And probably from the wine, as well.

Eugene smacked him on the shoulder. "Shut up."

Pugsley laughed even more at the lack of strength. Eugene swallowed a laugh, but he was smiling now, and a particularly immediate thought came to his mind. If he were sober, he would never open his mouth, but he opened it.

“Have you ever thought about being with a guy?”

Pugsley raised his eyebrows, surprised, and his voice sounded slightly irritated when answering. "You're really not sober."

"What led you to that conclusion?" Eugene questioned, a pang of regret gradually arising in his chest. Was Pugsley angry?

"Well, you never share stuff like that. Even after that one time I caught you, we didn't talk about it." He shrugged, looking at the ceiling again, but his eyes fell on him after a few tense seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"You don't talk about stuff either,” Eugene defended himself automatically, blushing furiously at the time Pugsley skipped class and caught Eugene making out with a boy in their dorms during free period.

"I didn't know… I didn’t think you wanted to know something."

Pugsley took a deep breath, his eyes getting a little darker. It was addictive, almost exciting. "I do. And if you want, I'll tell you mine. But they're probably not as exciting as yours."

Eugene blushed, laughing a little at it, but still apprehensive. Suddenly, it sounded like he was sober. "You don't... think it's disgusting? Or strange?"

"Not at all," Pugsley replied quickly, maybe even too fast. He scratched his cheek, and Eugene watched everything very carefully, eternally grateful for how close they were. "I… I've thought about guys too."

Eugene’s eyes widened, his fists curling in his lap to relieve every overwhelming sensation that entered his body. Pugsley seemed nervous, biting his own lips, and for a moment Eugene considered the idea of having gone crazy, or having simply imagined what he had always wanted to hear. He blinked comically, like a little fish in a very deep aquarium.

"No comments?" Pugsley tried to sound sarcastic, but his voice trembled lightly, showing his eagerness for an answer, perhaps even for acceptance.

"Sorry," Eugene whispered, not knowing why he was whispering. "I’m just surprised…”

Pugsley laughed nasally. "Alright."

"But… I mean, you’ve thought about girls too, right?" Eugene shook his head, looking almost bored. Maybe it was a joke? It was not out of nature for him, but it was still a possibility.

"I don’t know,” Pugsley murmured, shaking his head as if he wanted to fix his hair to ward off the nervousness, but lying down this tactic didn't work. “I like them too, I guess…”

Eugene nodded absently out of habit, but felt his nerves calmer. Pugsley had that ability over him. "That's pretty cool, actually."

Pugsley chuckled. "Yeah, I know love is something beautiful, so it shouldn't be seen as disgusting."

Eugene felt his heart squeeze gently, hopelessly moved. He’d blame it on the alcohol later. "I understand."

Pugsley blindly searched for Eugene’s hand through the sheets. When he took it, he pressed a light kiss there, chilling Eugene’s whole body. "I know you understand. You always do."

The corner of Eugene’s lips curled up in a small smile. "When did you find out? Wait, am I being invasive? You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable," he questioned everything quickly, pulling a funny snort from Pugsley. Because it was okay if Pugsley liked guys too, but didn't like Eugene. Knowing his most intimate side was more than enough. It was always enough, and it always will be, even if his heart broke a little.

He felt like Sisyphus, climbing the mountain forever, and even if he got close to his goal, he would never really have it. It was so close, yet so far away.

"That’s kind of a revealing story," Pugsley warned him, sounding sober, almost serious. "I don’t think I’m willing to tell this particular story yet, if that’s okay with you?"

"Alright," Eugene smiled. He didn't want to annoy Pugsley with too many nosy questions, he was just so eager to talk to someone who really understood him. "Can you...tell me another one?" He asked, cheeks heating up with the insinuation.

Pugsley shook his head, laughing as he poked his shoulder without any force in the touch. "Again, even if they are with guys, they’re probably not as exciting as yours."

"You keep saying that, but you haven’t even told me any!" Eugene threw his hands up, exasperated, anxious about the stories. Pugsley laughed at his barely contained outburst. He opened his mouth, but Eugene interrupted him. "And why do you say mine will be better? Should I be offended?"

"No, no," Pugsley laughed, relaxed. "Not at all. I just have this slight feeling, almost intuition."

"Mine can't be better. If we’re being logical, you probably have better stories."

"Is this becoming a self-deprecating battle?"

"Realistic, actually."

Pugsley cackled, and Eugene found himself laughing along, out of pure habit. Pugsley’s laugh was like fuel for him.

"I think you have this misconception about me. I don't usually find many people that catch my attention like that."

Eugene blinked his eyes, hopeful. "Just a few dozen?"

Pugsley rolled his eyes affectionately. "I get off on blowing things up. I don't think that would be very useful in this state, sexually speaking."

Eugene laughed, covering his own mouth in pure shock. "You're so stupid."

Pugsley smiled at him with a soft and dizzy look on his face. “But it's true! And you’re like the only person besides Wednesday that talks to me.”

Eugene squinted. “People are just too freaked out by everything these days."

"Especially that! I've been frustrated so many times I could break my swords."

Eugene melted on the mattress, smiling like a complete fool. The idea of Pugsley being sexually frustrated brought him a simply wonderful warmth to his stomach. "Tell me about the good experiences, then. No need to get angry now."

"Well," Pugsley sat up now, his cheeks turning red. "There was this one time I stole Wednesday’s copy of Frankenstein’s Monster—”

“Don’t tell me you jerked it to the monster,” Eugene interrupted.

Pugsley shot him a look that said not to interrupt and to let him continue, making Eugene’s mouth snap shut. “Yes, actually. Tall, dark, and handsome. Sue me. It may sound weird, thinking that way, but it's really… delicious." He smiled a little.

Eugene nodded his head, then Pugsley’s expression softened. "There was also this one guy, too — unforgettable, to be honest. He was one of the guys on the swim team that used to bully me. Brown eyes, messy brown hair, and he sucked me so well, Eugene. I never felt anything like it."

Eugene’s eyes tripled in size, looking almost like a pure tantrum. He asked to listen to Pugsley’s stories, and now he was wishing he could rip off the heads of everyone who touched him and felt his taste. It wasn't fair.

Pugsley lowered his head, purposely meeting Eugene’s lost eyes. "You okay? Did I go too far?"

Eugene cleared his throat, licking his lips to move away the beak he had created. "No, you didn’t go too far. Don’t worry. I was just kinda… speechless."

Pugsley laughed. "So was I.”

Eugene contemplated burying his face in the pillow and screaming until his lungs lost all the air he needed to live. But, like a mature person, he smiled politely at the joke.

"And you?" Pugsley questioned, teasing, but sounding genuinely curious. "Tell me about your good experiences."

Eugene pondered, trying to remember something worth telling. He could tell him this, he could be sincere; but selfishly he would like Pugsley to feel a certain jealousy, a hint of desire, the benefit of the doubt, perhaps.

Maybe, if he exaggerated enough, Pugsley would wonder what made Eugene needy with such fervor. Maybe he would wonder how he tasted too, even if it was out of pure curiosity. He didn't care. He hoped, so desperately, that Pugsley would want him too one day. That one day their lips would touch, that his hands — his long fingers, would pass through his skin, that they would find the place to which they belonged: inside Eugene.

"You know Paul Whittaker, right?" He started with a forced voice of emotion.

Pugsley nodded enthusiastically. “The werewolf guy I caught you in the dorms with?”

Eugene looked up at him, sighing. "Yes, yes, that’s the one…”

He sat up to take another sip of the wine, and handed the bottle back to Pugsley, who copied his movements. “Anyways, I used to tutor him. He always sat really close to me, and he was also kinda handsy sometimes, but the most exciting part was that he would do it so slowly, so... affectionately." He laughed at his own joke, and Pugsley gave him that same infuriatingly polite smile. In Eugene’s ideal world, Pugsley was jealous, but his mind decided to step on firm, realistic ground, convincing him that he was simply just listening to the story.

Pugsley grinned. "Continue."

"You sure?"

Pugsley nodded, eyes glazing over, and Eugene loved that look being directed at him. It only incited Eugene even more. “Well, one minute we’re kissing on his bed, and the next he’s grinding against me like some dog in heat…”

Eugene paused, clumsily reaching for the bottle to take another hard chug of the bitter liquid. He stifled a cough, feeling the tension slip away with the warmth of the alcohol.

“Fucked me like one too,” Eugene whispered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Pugsley didn’t say anything, he just took the bottle from Eugene and tilted it to his lips, continuing to stare at Eugene with an intensity that burned into his skin.

“It hurt a lot at first, but only for a while, until he hit a spot that made everything feel so surreal. I made sounds I didn’t even know I could make. I haven’t tutored him since, but we still hook up. Occasionally.”

Pugsley was silent, twirling the bottle’s neck in his fingers, lost in his thoughts, and when he noticed that Eugene was waiting for an answer, he let out a "wow" without any emotion.

"Is this getting too weird? We don’t have to keep talking about it if it is," Eugene said, sounding unsure, maybe even a little bit angry. Pugsley recognized this tone. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes with agony, nostrils flaring. "I hate to tell you this, Eugene—fuck, I feel terrible.”

Eugene held his hand, as Pugsley had done to him before. He ignored the palpitation of his heart, the fear that corroded him. Would Pugsley tell him that he had gone too far? Was he ruining everything? "Just tell me."

Pugsley opened his eyes, dark, glossy, and hungry — like a predator watched his prey. He blushed furiously, but kept eye contact — tremendously passionate.

“I’m hard.”

A pause. Silence filled the room for a brief second. Then—

"Oh…" Eugene finally mumbled, a similar blush adorning his face.

Pugsley... liked it, then? Did he like the stories? What exactly turned him on? Would it be the idea of Eugene getting fucked that made Pugsley hard? He mentally laughed at himself.

Pugsley, finding him attractive enough to get excited when imagining him sexually? He had to be out of his mind. It was probably caused by the slightly sexual air in which they were. And, if he was being honest, Eugene also felt a slight discomfort growing in his own pants, about to really become something touchable.

If Pugsley liked his stories… then maybe he wouldn't be disgusted by the idea of helping each other in this situation, right? They were sort of friends now, and thousands of people touched each other with their friends. It was common. It was… normal. Safe.

It was as if Sisyphus finally reached the top of the mountain, and had the chance to observe the landscape from there for a few moments, just a taste of Paradise before Zeus dropped the big rock again.

He took a deep breath, looking seriously at Pugsley. Eugene’s hands began to sweat, but he didn’t let go. He reached over to take the bottle from him with his free hand and swallowed the remaining alcohol to give him the courage to simply open his mouth and allow the desired sound to come out of him.

"Could I…" Eugene’s voice started shrill, then cleared his throat, face turning red. "Can I help you?”

Pugsley eyebrows shot up, heat flooding his cheeks, making them glow an unusual crimson that stood out against the pallor of his skin. As if his body chose honesty over composure. Eugene would laugh if he wasn't completely terrified.

"It doesn't have to be anything serious," Eugene continued. His tongue felt like cotton, as if anesthetized. "Just thought I’d help you, but if it sounds strange, you can just say no."

Pugsley swallowed hard. "You sure you’re not drunk?"

Eugene shook his head, suddenly speechless. Pugsley picked at a loose thread on the sheets just to have something to do, until his eyes fell on Eugene, with purpose this time, following his form with barely contained desire.

"Okay." He decided, sounding much more sober than he really was.

Eugene’s eyes rose again, capturing Pugsley's gaze. "Is it?"

Pugsley chuckled, bringing a little comfort to Eugene's chest. "It is."

"Okay," Eugene laughed too now, tremendously nervous and awkward. "Then, how do you want to…?"

"Whatever you’re comfortable with, Eugene. Don't think too much about it."

Eugene fidgeted. "But I want it to be good for you…”

Pugsley smiled even more at that, his eyes practically closing. He leaned in to press their noses together, making Eugene let out a dizzy laugh, then turned his head, brushing his nose against his cheek, then towards his ear. And there, where Eugene was most sensitive, Pugsley whispered, low and delicately. "Anything will be good if you’re doing it for me."

He moved away just enough for their eyes to meet again, and Eugene became so, so malleable. Pugsley continued with that convinced look, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to the other. As if he knew the kind of power he held over him at this moment.

Eugene nodded, feeling his hands tremble. He was about to touch Pugsley Addams. He would get to feel his pulse, hear his moans, see what his face looked like when he cums. Eugene didn't want to miss anything.

His hand walked through the mattress almost blindly, and when he finally reached Pugsley’s crotch, both of their breaths hitched. They exchanged a look, and Pugsley gave him a short nod of approval.

Eugene bit his lower lip, and hooked a trembling finger on his waistband, lowering it through the darkness of the room. Their eyes were still locked on each other, as if something brought them there and made it impossible for them to even blink. It was exciting.

Pugsley sighed loudly in the small space between them when his dick sprung free, and Eugene looked down, too curious, how it touched his abdomen, completely erect and also beautifully red at the tip, beading with small droplets of pre-cum already. The overlapping veins pulsated imperceptibly, down to the base.

Eugene swallowed without even realizing it, and passed his index finger over the head without pressure, capturing the pre-cum in his digits. Without thinking, he automatically brought his finger to his lips, tasting Pugsley’s flavor with the ecstasy of a million stars exploding together in a beautifully choreographed dance.

Their eyes met again. Pugsley’s eyes were completely dark now in a mesmerizing black. Eugene unscrupulously looked up at him, his bittersweet flavor going down his throat with the thirst of a dying man, and he needed more.

"How is it?" Pugsley questioned, his thick voice reverberating all over Eugene’s body in shock. Eugene didn't answer. Instead, he swiped his index finger through the tip again, and brought it to Pugsley’s lips, who sucked the finger gratefully, closing his eyes with pleasure. Eugene could die at that moment, and he would die as the happiest man in the world.

"Thank you." Pugsley said, blinking his eyes when Eugene moved his finger away.

Eugene blushed at the gratitude, a simple word making his heartbeat soar. Instead of answering him, suddenly without words, he chose to extend his tongue, licking his own palm with his eyes glazed over Pugsley’s, who watched him with so much attention, so much… desire, even. It was too much for his poor heart.

He brought his palm down again, and finally closed it around Pugsley, as best as he could because of the position they were in. Pugsley hissed deliciously in his ears, throwing his head back. God, Eugene hadn't even moved yet, and he already felt on the edge. He experimentally lowered his hand down slowly, bringing it back up again, and Pugsley moaned softly above him.

"Is it okay…?" Eugene questioned softly. He didn't know how Pugsley preferred to be touched, and would do everything to make the experience completely perfect for him.

Pugsley nodded, eyebrows scrunching together, although Eugene was barely doing anything. "Yes, but… you can squeeze more.”

"Okay,” Eugene held him tighter, and Pugsley’s mouth fell open. "Where are you more sensitive?"

Pugsley’s lips curled up in a lazy grin. "I can’t just tell you everything. Where’s the fun in that?"

Eugene chuckled. "I'll find out, then."

Pugsley was still conscious enough to act sarcastically, and that couldn't happen. He pressed just below the head, and lowered his hand with the same slowness as before. Pugsley sighed loudly and hotly, and Eugene saw it as a good sign, so he worked at a gentle pace for them, enjoying the feeling of Pugsley pulsing in his hand. His dick was hard, hot, and trembling, just like his heartbeat.

Eugene moved his hand even faster, swiping his thumb over the slit, now with Pugsley moaning hoarsely in his ear. His sounds were simply divine, and they had already become Eugene’s favorite sound.

Pugsley was leaking even more pre-cum, and Eugene turned his fingers gently just below the glans, creating a pressure there that pulled a loud and dragged moan from him, his forehead falling on Eugene’s shoulder, completely helpless. Eugene smiled at that and repeated the act as Pugsley’s moans increased even more.

"I believe I just found it,” he joked.

Pugsley mumbled disjointed words on his skin, his forehead was cool and dampened with sweat. Eugene tightened his grip again, going even faster than he was used to. His wrist hurt a little, but he wouldn't let it drive away from Pugsley’s climax. He would do it even if he ended the night with a broken wrist.

His other hand found the hair on the back of Pugsley’s neck, making a chaste caress there. He couldn't even say the reason for such an act, he just felt it was right. Pugsley squirmed under the touch, bucking his hips at the same pace Eugene’s hand was going. Sweating, moaning, and grumbling beautifully.

"You look so good like this,” Eugene whispered at the foot of Pugsley’s ear, loving the feeling of his goosebumps on his lips, and Pugsley whimpered on his shoulder.

"E-Eugene, I, ah—"

"Yes?" Eugene increased the pace even more, the anxiety no longer following him. Pugsley continued to whine in a mixture of murmurs and moans, and his hands gripped Eugene’s wrist in a final moan, trembling as he spilled all over their hands. Eugene felt like his heart was going to explode.

He made Pugsley cum.

Pugsley came in his hand.

He liked it.

Eugene continued with the touch, now a little more lightly, and when Pugsley’s breathing finally calmed down, Eugene gently moved his hand away, bringing it to his own lips, licking his fingers.

When he finally cleaned his hands completely, Eugene focused on the boy in front of him, blinking, almost sleepy, but gradually returning to his senses. Pugsley’s chest had already calmed down, but his hair was damp, stuck to his own forehead, and his cheeks were flushed. Eugene opened his mouth to ask him how it had been, but Pugsley was faster, grabbing his face without any delicacy and pushed him down on the mattress, laying Eugene down as he pulled him in for a desperate kiss.

Eugene heard the bottle roll off the bed and clatter loudly somewhere on the floor, but he didn’t care. He sighed into the kiss as Pugsley sucked his soul deeply, devouring him almost aggressively, as if he needed Eugene more than the air itself. It was crazy. Eugene understood him. He understood so much.

Somewhere his heart was still beating. Somewhere blood still ran through his veins. Somewhere he still existed. But not in that room. In that kiss, in the hands of that boy, Eugene was nothing more than dust from exploded stars, wandering somewhere unimportant. Nothing mattered to him anymore. 

Pugsley pulled away in search of air, lips swollen and red, and his eyes were almost scary. Eugene wanted to dive into him, fall without ever stopping, and live eternally in those eyes. Pugsley didn't even give him any explanation, he just took his lips to Eugene’s neck and sucked hard.

Eugene sighed loudly, grabbing Pugsley’s hair as he went down with firm but affectionate bites to his neck, licking the marks soon after. "Pugsley…"

Pugsley’s lips reached his collarbone, teeth grazing the area and nipping at the skin wildly. Eugene giggled at the sensation. It was so different. So good. Pugsley laughed too, pulling away briefly so that their eyes could meet. "We'll need to rip off this beautiful silk shirt, Your Highness."

His fingers found the first button, taking it off with ease, and Eugene watched the movement with admiration, feeling very light, very distant, but also so present. There was a gleam in Pugsley’s eyes. A voracity, perhaps, a kind of hunger as he continued to open the buttons with surprising delicacy, finally reaching the last ones. It was driving them crazy.

Eugene’s chest was covered in scars that stretched across his bare torso, catching Pugsley’s eye. They had changed in front of each other so many times, there was nothing new about it. Pugsley had even counted how many spots Eugene had on his skin on some occasions, but now there was something different about the act, something carnal, something exciting. Something new that none of them had tried before

Eugene felt so seen under his gaze, so observed, so vulnerable. When he finally gathered the courage to break Pugsley out of his trance, he bent down again, capturing a little bit of the scar on Eugene’s ribs with his lips. He sucked the spot with more affection, trailing wet kisses that went down his trembling abdomen. His lips were cold against Eugene’s warm skin, chilling him deliciously.

Pugsley’s lips moved to Eugene’s hip while his free hand now ran to the button of his linen pants. Pugsley smiled, trailing kisses down his abdomen and loving the warm, trembling sensation on his lips. He could see himself becoming addicted to this.

He continued kissing, licking, sucking, and biting the skin while blindly opening the button and unzipping Eugene’s pants. Pugsley moved away just enough to remove his pants, pulling it just below his hips, without him even having to make an effort in the process. Eugene’s dick stirred underneath, a dark stain already forming in his underwear, hidden only by the light fabric that separated them. The idea of him being so wet made Pugsley insane, like an animal.

He looked up at Eugene, who had his arm thrown over his eyes, completely embarrassed. Pugsley chuckled softly, going up to the height of his face.

“Eugene?”

"Sorry,” Eugene muttered, voice muffled beneath his arm. “I don't know why I’m getting embarrassed all of a sudden.”

Pugsley removed the arm that prevented him from seeing Eugene. His eyes were a sparkling brown behind his glasses, now askew, and his face was adorably red. Pugsley kissed his cheek innocently, in love with the warm skin. Then he kissed his jaw.

"Don't be embarrassed, Eugene. It’s just me."

"I know," Eugene sighed, his eyes falling on Pugsley's lips as he pulled away again. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, either," Pugsley laughed, now kissing his forehead, pulling a soft laugh from Eugene. "It's going to be good. And if it's not, then we can stop, okay? Try not to think too much about anything."

Eugene nodded, a little insecure, his eyes lost in Pugsley’s. He held his face in his warm hands, asking a question without words, using only those beautiful begging eyebrows of his. Pugsley understood, and quickly lowered his face, sealing their lips together again. 

Pugsley’s lips danced on his with the delicacy of a lover, and Eugene felt his eyes water in a mixture of disbelief and happiness. Pugsley kissed him with so much affection that it was easy to get lost in the illusion that they were together, that Pugsley wanted him, loved him. He kissed him back with the same amount of fervor.

When they separated, tears came down from Eugene’s eyes, mixing with his hair on the pillow. Pugsley watched the scene with a serious expression, leaning down to take Eugene’s glasses off, and kissing the trail that the tears had made on his face.

"You’re so beautiful,” he praised, loving the coloring on Eugene’s face. He trailed open-mouthed kisses down his chest, his abdomen, his waist, pulling adorable sighs from the boy, and when he finally reached his underwear, he removed it with the same delicacy he had with his pants. Pugsley raised his eyes again, and this time, Eugene watched him, his lips beautifully opened between heavy breaths, and his eyes shining in the dark of that room. Nothing could compare to how beautiful Eugene looked at that moment. 

Pugsley looked down, their sizes were similar, and the tip was the same color as Eugene’s lips. Then Pugsley noticed something that caught his attention. His fingers approached, touching just below the wet head, and met Eugene’s eyes, a laugh emerging on his lips.

"Eugene, you have a little mole here."

Eugene frowned. "What? I didn’t know that.”

"I can't believe I made a mistake in the count. You have nine moles, then." Pugsley blinked innocently, and Eugene looked at him with a playful look.

"Did you seriously memorize the quantity?"

"Of course,” Pugsley shrugged, not caring much about the implications of that conversation. He nestled himself between Eugene’s legs, his face so close to the twitching cock, and raised his eyes to look up at him once more. "Do you know what they say about the spots?"

Eugene took a deep breath, anxious, but also terrified. "What?"

"They say we have moles where our lovers from previous lives liked to kiss us," and, without further ado, Pugsley kissed the little mole on Eugene’s dick, licking there too, wetting his lips with the sweet taste.

Eugene gasped, gripping the sheets without any strength, completely melting under the touch. Pugsley raised his lips, capturing the slit with his tongue where he experimentally licked, drinking like Eugene was a source of life.

Eugene moaned loudly, and his hands fell into Pugsley’s hair, gathering a handful of his locks in his fists. Pugsley closed his lips around the head, loving the burning in his scalp, and created a suction in his mouth that made Eugene squirm, sounding almost desperate. The sensation went down all over his sweet and graceful length, releasing loud moans like a symphonic concert of the most beautiful, most applauded, most harmonious melodies.

Eugene was like a Greek harp, and Pugsley had to touch him, he had to listen to his sounds, he had to feel his strings, his skin, his sensations. He closed his eyes, letting his jaw go slack to enjoy the feeling of Eugene going up and down in his throat.

He repeated this motion until the sweet taste of pre-cum pooled in his tongue, dribbling down his fingers. It was dirty, but also addictive. Eugene’s fingers tangled in his hair, hard, raising his hips involuntarily and tearing a rumble from the back of Pugsley’s throat. It was all so insane, so fast, so hot.

Eugene’s moans increased more and more now, and just when he felt that familiar heat coil in his stomach and the muscles in his thighs clenching, he clamped them tightly around Pugsley’s head, pinning him there as he came down his throat.

Pugsley sighed when he felt Eugene’s release coming down his throat like pure water, swallowing every last drop with insatiable desire, as if his body needed it to stand before finally pulling away, licking his own lips and finding Eugene’s drooping eyes, his flushed cheeks, and his hair in a disheveled mess of the most beautiful brown curls haloing his head.

Eugene slowly let go of his hair, letting his legs fall on the mattress with a hollow sound, suddenly exhausted. His chest was still coming up and down in choppy breaths, wheezing slightly.

"Are you okay?" Pugsley asked, voice slightly hoarse. His mouth was a little sore, but he was loving all these little facts, all these memories.

"Yeah…" Eugene panted, still desperately looking for air. "Pugsley, come here, please…”

There was no need for the "please", Pugsley was already there, hovering above Eugene, his eyes looking for any sign of discomfort, but Eugene just grabbed his face, pulling him down. His braces snagged on Pugsley’s bottom lip, making him let out a surprised gasp, and his arm lost strength, falling on top of Eugene without any warning.

"Shit—sorry, Eugene! I think my arm fell asleep. Are you hurt?" He quickly began babbling excuses, moving away and lying down next to him. He ran his hand through Eugene’s ribs, trying to undo any pain he was feeling, but Eugene just fell into a chorus of laughter, turning on his side to face Pugsley.

"Gosh, we’re so clumsy. Sorry for pulling you in without warning."

Pugsley's smile was light and silly, completely smitten. His own lip stung a little, but he didn’t care. "Don't apologize. Does it hurt?"

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” Eugene shook his head, moving even closer. He had a smile that was equal parts flirtatious and shameful, it was adorable. "That was amazing, Pugsley. Thank you."

Pugsley closed the space between them now, almost glued. "You're welcome.”

He smoothed his tongue over his bottom lip, lapping up the tiny trace of blood. “And… if you want, I can do it again,” he said, reaching for Eugene’s hand and kissing the palm with affection, meeting his eyes. "Or more."

Eugene blushed, biting his lips so as not to smile widely. He pushed his thumb past Pugsley’s lips, almost innocently, and blinked his eyes modestly. "I've considered the ‘more…’"

Pugsley raised an eyebrow, interested. "Yeah?"

"Yeah,” Eugene nodded, leaning back. Then, he said it. "Pugsley, I want you to fuck me."

Pugsley nearly moaned at the words, his dick springing back to life. He was so crazy about Eugene. Did he know that? Eugene should know that. He needed to know, and Pugsley was going to show him. He kissed Eugene again, pressing their lips together once more, as if they were led to meet, as if they couldn’t stay away from each other.

Eugene sighed, fluttering his eyes closed, his eyelashes dancing on Pugsley’s cheeks. When they pulled away, a thin line of saliva connected them in the hot air, shining against the dim light, but the other was capturing his lips in his again, needy, fast, firm, pulling Eugene impossibly closer as he rested his hands on his shoulders, moaning while they grind against each other. Eugene’s fingers played with the hem of Pugsley’s T-shirt, moving away with swollen lips, hungry eyes, eager hands. "Take it off," he whispered.

Pugsley obeyed, pulling the shirt over his head with no problems. He joined their foreheads together, reluctant to let Eugene move away more than that and Eugene took the opportunity to distribute kisses around his neck, biting where he wanted, licking sloppyly and kissing with the hunger of a vampire. Pugsley’s nails trailed bluntly down his waist, grazing the skin there softly, and Eugene smiled with the overwhelming sensation that rose to his chest. Pugsley had such careful hands, caressing there as if he was something delicate to take care of, something to cherish. It was beautiful. And Eugene wanted more. He needed more. Much more.

He threw his leg over Pugsley, quickly sitting on his lap and feeling his hard dick right there against him. Pugsley threw his head back in a surprised but needy moan. Eugene reconnected their lips again, hands running through his skin, squeezing, holding, pulling, all between the wet noises of their kisses echoing loudly. He pulled away to wet his hand again, bringing it down to Pugsley’s hard dick, but he stopped his wrist, looking slightly worried.

"Hey, hey, wait! What are you doing?"

"Hm?" Eugene swallowed hard, confused. "Without it, it's very dry, you know? Since we don't have stuff like… lube or anything."

Pugsley raised his eyebrow. "But wouldn’t that still hurt? That’s not exactly lubricating.”

"Well, maybe a little at first," Eugene shrugged, too flushed to form very complex sentences. Pugsley was so annoyingly protective, it made his heart beat like crazy.

"Pugsley, I need you now. There's nothing else here besides this, so don't worry."

"Sure there is," Pugsley admitted.

Eugene was starting to get impatient, and his voice made it clear. "Yeah, and what’s that? And don’t say olive oil, because we are not sneaking into the kitchen like this—”

"No, not olive oil."

Pugsley cut him off, and before Eugene could question him even more, Pugsley changed their positions perfectly, lying Eugene on the mattresses with a soft thud. He knelt down again, smirking slyly, and when he brought the other’s legs to sit on his shoulders, Eugene finally understood.

"Pugsley—"

Pugsley leaned down and licked an agonizingly long stripe over his hole, passing his tongue there with utmost care and affection. Eugene jumped at the sensation, and Pugsley held his legs even tighter, forcing his tongue past the tight muscles, without hurting him.

Eugene gasped, contorting his hips in the air as if he had lost command of his own body. Pugsley had to hold him down to keep him in place as he thrusted his tongue without further restriction, turning it, curling it, and sucking on the hole greedily, as if it were his last meal on Earth.

Eugene twisted his fingers in the soft sheets, his breath was stuck in his throat, as if he were dying, as if he were alive. Then Pugsley suddenly pulled away, making Eugene look down in confusion. He brought his hand down, circling a wet finger against his rim.

Eugene always watched Pugsley’s hands, how his skilled fingers would work on his little gadgets and wondered how they would feel inside him. Now he had his answer as Pugsley inserted his finger slowly, reaching where Eugene could never reach alone, and when he finally got used to it, Pugsley inserted another finger, this one bringing a burning sensation. But even then, the burn was deliciously addictive. A reminder of everything that was happening. That Eugene existed there on that mattress with Pugsley opening him up.

Pugsley began to scissor his fingers carefully, observing all of Eugene’s reactions. Only then did Eugene notice that he had been moaning all this time, and that his hands had grabbed the pillow he was lying on, squirming on the bed. A third finger entered him and the world tilted sideways with a sharp jolt shooting up his spine so violently that the air left his lungs in broken gasps. For a heartbeat, he only saw white, his mind catching up to the fact that the painful sensation was inside him, alive and furious.

Eugene clenched around the fingers and tried to breathe, but the attempt made his vision stutter. His body trembled, and his heart was hammering so loud it drowned out the rest of the world. But beneath the agony, there was something else. Something wild. The pulsing sensation of Pugsley’s fingers hitting his prostate over and over again, washing over him in waves of ecstasy that made Eugene’s body silently scream. He lay still, breathing through his teeth, the ache thrumming steady and alive. It wasn’t sharp anymore—just heavy, pulsing, like a heartbeat, and for a moment, Eugene stopped fighting it.

He let it in. Each wave of pain and pleasure rolled through him, hot and electric, tracing every nerve until it was just pleasure — presence. He could feel everything, from the buzzing in his head, to the soft sheets beneath his fingers, the sweat cooling on his skin, and the dry burn in his throat. Their eyes met, Eugene’s with tears falling down his cheeks and Pugsley’s with barely contained excitement.

"Please, Pugsley…" Eugene whispered, crying even more now. His whole body was a single, trembling note of sensation, raw and unfiltered.

Pugsley hurriedly removed his fingers, with the same eagerness that Eugene felt, making him whine at the loss, but soon his weight was above him again, lips on his, their saliva mixing in a sloppily perfect mess before Pugsley pulled back, bringing a hand to Eugene’s face.

"Spit here, Eugene."

Eugene smiled and obeyed, spitting in the palm of his hand. Pugsley smiled back, as if there was some romance in the act, and smeared himself with Eugene. The sounds were the very descent into Hell, and Eugene would do it thousands of times if he could. He wished they could do this every time, observing and exploring each other however they wanted. They could experience each other in the most diverse ways. He wanted that a lot.

Pugsley lined himself up to Eugene’s entrance, raising his eyes, looking almost worried. "I’m going to put it in now. This might hurt a little, but I promise to go at your pace."

Eugene shook his head. "Oh, Pugsley,” he sighed, wrapping his legs around him, no longer embarrassed, just so, so needy. "Shut up."

Pugsley laughed. "Yes, Your Highness."

He pressed the tip against Eugene, nothing more than a touch, almost like a seal, and Eugene held his breath. He slowly pushed past the tight entrance, spreading his walls with hardly any resistance this time. Eugene grabbed his arms, needing to feel him everywhere as Pugsley slowly went deeper and deeper. Once he bottomed out completely, he gasped when his hips glued to Eugene’s sweaty body.

“So good, Eugene… you’re doing so good,” Pugsley moaned.

Eugene tried to control his breathing. It hurt—God, it hurts—but there was a strange beauty in that. A strange purity. He stared up at Pugsley, still shaking, stars swimming faintly behind his eyelids. And even as the pain kept biting, deep and relentless, a strange calm settled in his chest. It was almost… beautiful.

Pugsley made that same caress on his waist, his soft touch gaining Eugene’s attention, almost distracting him from the pain. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Eugene tried to smile, but he knew it didn't seem genuine. "Just… you’re kinda big. But if you want to move…”

Pugsley chuckled softly, an affectionate look on his face. "Do you think I can’t read your face by now?"

Eugene blushed. "I'm serious!"

"So am I. You don’t have to lie to satisfy me, Eugene,” he slowly bent down, capturing Eugene’s ear with his teeth, pulling out a breathy moan in an incredible mixture of light pain with pure pleasure. “You deserve to feel good too.”

He sucked the cartilage greedily, chilling all the hairs on Eugene’s body, who gasped loudly, holding on to Pugsley’s shoulders.

"You’re so hot, Eugene… I hate how long it took for this to happen,” Pugsley confided in a mere muffled whisper.

He released Eugene’s ear, pulling away, watching Eugene’s wide eyes, completely surprised, with passion. "Ever since I caught you with that guy, I kept picturing you like this, with my hands running against your body, squirming beneath me — not him.”

He lowered his hands to meet Eugene’s waist, with that same soft affection, which did not match his words at all. Eugene swallowed hard. Pugsley… thought about him? He felt his dick leaking, already forgetting the pain that affected him.

"Is it anything like you imagined?" He questioned, voice weak.

Pugsley grinned slyly, rocking his hips once, and Eugene threw his head back, his mouth open in a soft gasp that passed through his lips. "Even better,” Pugsley answered, his deep voice more hoarse than usual, more excited. "Your taste is still on my tongue, Eugene. It's addicting."

His fingers closed around Eugene’s neglected cock, squeezing lightly. Eugene gasped loudly, hands pressed against Pugsley’s chest to ground himself, somehow, barely noticing how his hips rocked back and forth against Pugsley’s, following the rhythm in which he masturbated him.

Pugsley drew his hips back slowly, pulling out halfway, before thrusting back in at a gentle pace. He huffed out a laugh, the sound caught somewhere between a groan and a sigh, feeling the sweat run down his back.

He kissed Eugene’s jaw, sucking on the skin there as he rocked them faster on the bed. "I’ve also wondered what it would be like to cum inside you."

Eugene found his eyes, his mouth still open, as if he couldn't close it. The feeling was too much, it was paradisiacal, it was religious, it was mythological, and Pugsley kept hitting all the right places.

"M-Me too… P-Pugsley… I’ve always, ugh, wondered what it would be like… if you came inside me…" Eugene said between moans, gasping at the force in which Pugsley was fucking him with, now uncontrollable, unstoppable, almost violent.

Pugsley was moaning now too, eyes falling on Eugene’s lips, with a look so dark it made Eugene roll his hips against Pugsley, needing more and more.

"You think about me?" He asked between long gasps, his fingers almost entering the skin on Eugene’s waist.

"Yes,” Eugene nodded rapidly, noticing that he was crying once again. "Yes, Pugsley, I, ah—I think about you so much… I think about you every time I touch myself…”

Pugsley laughed between breaths. "Me too…”

He crashed his lips against Eugene’s in a mess of moans and ungoverned tongues. Eugene grabbed his hair again, pulling with that same delicious burning.

Pugsley leaned back, his lips moist and red. "I wanted you every night, Eugene. I want you always."

Eugene bit his lip, eyes capturing Pugsley’s. "Always?"

"Always,” Pugsley whispered back. He unhooked Eugene’s thighs from his hips and lifted one of his legs over his shoulder, going deeper, if that was even possible.

Eugene whimpered, biting his own lip, at this angle, he could feel his prostate being drilled into even more.

Pugsley was panting and moaning on top of Eugene, moving at a relentless pace. His thrusts became sloppier, faster, more desperate, and Eugene watched all of this carefully, wanting to memorize every little moment. Drunk off of Pugsley more than the wine itself.

Pugsley changed their positions once again, suddenly flipping them both over in one swift motion. He ground his hips upward, now with Eugene sitting on top of him, straddling his hips without a clue of what to do next.

“Ride me,” Pugsley said, voice dark and low.

Eugene rolled his hips forward experimentally, hissing at the sensation of their bodies together. “Oh, fuck…”

Pugsley’s hands flew to his hips, his trembling fingers digging into the soft flesh. “Yeah, just like that, Eugene. Keep going…”

Eugene looked down at him, rocking his hips even faster and laughing to himself when he noticed Pugsley swallowing dryly. He raised his hips slowly, quickly lowering them back down to seat himself on Pugsley’s full length, his grip tightening around Eugene’s waist.

Pugsley thrust his hips up to meet Eugene’s desperate movements, both moaning at the sensation, heat building fast. Eugene let out a choked moan, hips stuttering as each thrust sent sparks shooting up his spine.

“I don't know how I was able to keep my hands off you this whole time…” Pugsley said between pants.

Eugene whined at being coveted by Pugsley, thighs trembling, and the faint creak of the mattress groaning beneath the sounds of shared heavy breathing.

"What would you’ve done, Pugsley? Tell me." Eugene asked, but his voice sounded like an order.

"I would have knelt at your feet any time you asked me,” Pugsley replied, bucking his hips uncontrollably, gripping Eugene’s waist even tighter.

“What else? Don’t stop,” Eugene urged, moaning helplessly as Pugsley continued to pound into his prostate, digging his fingers so hard against Eugene’s skin it was sure to leave a bruise.

“I would’ve made you mine whenever, wherever. Would’ve had you moaning and crying on my dick, just like this. Fucking you so good, those pretty lips were begging me to stop. But I wouldn’t stop. Not until I’ve made a complete mess out of you. I—"

Pugsley’s sentence was cut short as Eugene came on his abdomen, trembling from head to toe, clinging to him like a lifeline. His eyes looked like a brown nebula with millions of white stars flickering inside, and as he recovered, Pugsley continued, “I would’ve danced with you, Eugene…”

Pugsley’s mouth fell open in a silent groan, letting out a dragged moan as he exploded inside Eugene with one final thrust, firm and deep. Eugene watched everything with an admiring, obsessed look, moaning when he finally discovered Pugsley’s most intimate expressions, feeling deeply connected to him, having him right there, like a lover.

Eugene panted, completely destroyed. "You would’ve?"

"Yes," Pugsley smiled, running his finger through Eugene’s cum and licking his own hand, as Eugene had done to him. Eugene shivered at the action. Pugsley was just as perverted as he was, and this conviction only incited Eugene even more. 

Pugsley sucked his fingers slowly, enjoying the taste, the sensation, everything. He sucked with his eyes glued to Eugene’s, who smiled at him, his chest aching and freeing at the same time.

Eugene pulled his fingers away, and Pugsley licked his own lips, already less euphoric, but he didn't move away. Instead, he opted for rubbing slow and steady circles on his thighs, taking deep breaths. The touch was wet, yet soft, and grounding. A gentle contrast compared to the fiery abandon that consumed them not too long ago.

Eugene leaned down to kiss Pugsley’s cheek. "You were great, Pugsley. You can let go now.”

Pugsley shook his head, still catching his breath, his hair sticking to his forehead, exactly as Eugene imagined every night, arms trembling with the force he used to hold Eugene’s body. "Just a little longer? I’m really starting to enjoy the view from down here.”

Eugene felt his chest warm up with passion. "Likewise, but my legs are about to give out any second now, and I’m exhausted.”

"Well, there are millions of possibilities here, Your Highness." Pugsley muttered.

Eugene rolled his eyes. "No, there isn't. Now, put me down."

The sarcasm was back, but that didn’t stop him from patting Pugsley’s arm affectionately, peeling himself from his lap. Pugsley’s wet hands held his beloved's waist, bringing him to the pillow next to him with ease, his dick unfortunately leaving Eugene’s body in the process. He fluttered his eyes closed, grumbling as a deep feeling of emptiness invaded him, a longing for what had just happened, a painful loss.

Pugsley opened his eyes quickly, suddenly awake again. "Eugene, come here."

But before Eugene could say or do anything, Pugsley was already wrapping his arms around his torso, reaching for the discarded blanket. He covered their slightly sweaty bodies and pressed a light kiss to the back of Eugene’s neck, tearing a laugh from him.

Pugsley frowned, but he was laughing now, too. "Why the laughter, caro mio?”

Eugene shrugged, not even knowing how to explain. "Happiness, I guess." 

Pugsley smiled against the skin on his nape, understandable and passionate.

“It is, mon cher.”