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The day had started like any other day at Nevermore. Pugsley woke up around three in the morning after a good night's sleep of two hours. He didn’t move from his bed for another hour, listening quietly to his roommates sleeping. Some were snoring, some were more quiet. He knew for a fact that he and Wednesday made as many sounds as corpses, and so did the entirety of his family, so the first nights sharing a room with five other boys he had been shocked by the kind of sounds a living body could make asleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep for days because of this.
Now that he was used to it, his sleeping habits returned to normal and his beauty sleep lasted from two to four hours per night. He somehow found it soothing to hear them breathing while he was wide awake, staring at the dark wooden ceiling.
His favorite sound was Eugene, on the opposite bed, puffing at every exhale. It was like he was taking his last breath each time, but his lungs never ceased to work on their own.
And Pugsley felt his guts buzzing by the idea of Eugene not dying. Not that his cadaver wouldn’t still be cute.
Cute.
That was another thing Pugsley thought about between his awakening and the ringing of his roommates' alarms.
He found Eugene cute. The cutest, to be honest. Way cuter than the pet cockroaches Eugene had gifted him on his last birthday, saying that they ‘reminded him of Pugsley’. Everything he did or said was cute in Pugsley’s eyes. From the way his smile curved shyly, revealing his oversized braces, the quirk of his thick eyebrows whenever he was thinking too hard, his way of pushing back his glasses on the top of his nose, to his rosy cheeks when he was turning his head away from Pugsley.
Pugsley adored every part of Eugene.
Even the ones normal people wouldn’t appreciate.
Pugsley didn’t mind when Eugene was mad at him, yelling to his face, scolding him for his newfound stupidity. He had told him once that it was because he cared and was concerned about their safety - Pugsley’s safety.
He didn’t know why Eugene was scared of what could happen to him, considering he did crazier stuff at home when he was still a child. But it still felt great, knowing that at least one person cared about him in a different way than what he was used to.
Pugsley had to learn that his normal wasn’t Eugene’s normal. That the things he considered cool weren't for Eugene, or that their definition of danger differed from the degree of it. When Pugsley found digging old graves in the middle of the night to find bones with diseases to add to his personal collection at home a ‘pleasing activity’, Eugene would rather stay inside under his sheets and pray for the next day to come faster.
But they learned to accommodate each other. Live together.
Because they were roommates.
But also best friends.
As much as Wednesday and Enid, if you asked Pugsley.
Around hour five, Pugsley rose up and headed to the bathroom to take a cold shower. He always liked it better to shower while the moon was still up, slowly disappearing to let the sun take its place. In winters, his favourite time of the year, the moon would look back at him up in the sky, whispering tales of ancient time while he was getting ready for the day.
His showers consisted of cold water - never more than 15 degrees or his skin would melt under the heat - and stealing his roommates' soaps. Eugene’s was his favourite. He liked smelling like his best friend, and the latter always would tell him that he smelled great with a shy smile on his perfect face.
After showering, he brushed his teeth, stole more product to Eugene, dressed up and combed his hair. On occasional days, he’d put on some cologne his father had gifted him. But today was a normal school day. Eugene and him didn’t plan to go out in town, or wander in the forest to look for some interesting bugs. They already did all that not long ago, so today was doomed to be eventful.
Sometimes, Pugsley would finish his homework until it was time to go to class. But Pugsley felt lazy this morning, so instead he opted for checking on Eugene’s bugs in case any had died during the night. When all were safe and alive, he sat down on the floor, back pressed against Eugene’s bed and waited.
He never minded waiting for Eugene to wake up. He could do it for hours. Sometimes, his only presence would ease Eugene’s nightmares. In times like this, Pugsley never woke him up, but he slid his hand under the covers to take Eugene’s in his, telling him he was safe from any danger.
Eugene was pretty when he had nightmares.
But Pugsley never told him, and never would.
Any mention of those nights were forbidden, and Pugsley knew better than to really upset Eugene by breaking his three rules: 1/ eating his pets, 2/ disturbing him while harvesting honey, 3/ talking about anything related to Hydes. Pugsley had a special 4th rule which consisted of hiding no more zombies in the hive.
Fair.
He heard Eugene moving behind him, wrestling with the covers. At first, Pugsley thought of a new nightmare until a soft voice reached his ears.
“Pugs? What time is it?” Pugsley turned his body, now facing Eugene, still sitting on the hard wooden floor.
“Almost six.”
“So early,” Eugene groaned. Pugsley chuckled quietly, placing his chin on the soft mattress. Eugene’s eyes were half opened, still dirty from sleep. His lips looked dry from sleeping with his mouth open all night, his nose made a sound saying that it was stuff and his cheeks were swollen and a bit red.
Pugsley found Eugene the prettiest when he was between sleep and wake.
“Go back to sleep. You still have forty minutes.”
“Mh.” He watched Eugene abandoning his fight against sleep, and closed his eyes again with a faint smile. When Pugsley was certain he was asleep again, Eugene surprised him again by murmuring.
“Cuddle me.”
Pugsley took off his socks and sweater before sliding under the warm blanket next to his tired friend. Eugene had the tendency to be a sleepy cuddler, and Pugsley had the chance to be his favourite target in moments like this.
Eugene turned away, facing the wall, so Pugsley could put an arm around his middle, pressing his nose against his exposed neck and wiggle his cold toes against Eugene’s warm ones. Eugene’s sleepy smell was addicting too. More often than not, Pugsley had to refrain himself from biting and licking the skin, just to get a taste of it. He never did, because Eugene wasn’t supper, but the thought never left Pugsley’s mind.
Having Eugene falling back asleep in his arms almost made him want to sleep too. As if Morpheus’ arms were wide enough to greet them both. He didn’t sleep, though. He made sure Eugene’s last minutes of sleep lacked bad dreams, like a night guardian. He pampered him with light kisses, holding him tight against his chest and stayed as still as a carcass even if he could feel his body heating and sweating from Eugene’s overheating warmth.
This was perfect.
Eugene and their other roommates’ alarms all rang at six thirty. Reluctantly, Pugsley took off his arm from Eugene’s hip, almost dislocating his shoulder when he extended it behind his back to shut off the annoying sound. Eugene whined, stretching from head to toe like a cat, limbs shaking and eyes tightly closed. Somewhere in the room, Pugsley heard the other waking up and doing their own things, purposely ignoring the two boys laying in the same small bed. They were used to it at this point, and Pugsley couldn’t care less what they could think of them. Eugene didn’t either apparently, as he turned around to encircle his arms around Pugsley’s neck. His forehead ended up pressed against Eugene’s collarbone, and he had to bite his lips from refraining a whimper at the strong smell of the morning sweat.
“Five more minutes,” Eugene mumbled, cheeks squished on the top of Pugsley’s head.
“We could stay in bed all day for all I care. Skipping class is one of my favourite activities.” Both boys giggled, considering the tempting idea. But Eugene didn’t like skipping classes. Even if his grades weren’t the best, he didn’t like the disappointing looks his mothers had whenever it happened. So the less skipping he did, the better he felt. Pugsley on the other hand never had anything to prove to anyone. His parents weren’t counting on him to be a prodigy in intellectual classes like his sister. His thing was manual work, and he excelled in them - to his parents’ pride.
While Eugene was in the bathroom to get ready, Pugsley dressed again and waited for him with both of their bags on his shoulders in the hallway. If he could, he would go with him to watch him like a clingy puppy, but Eugene had always rejected him by slamming the door on his nose.
He just wanted to stay close to him all day and all night without interruption, how could you blame him?
He was pretty sure Wednesday and Enid acted like this too.
They shared a botanic class before lunch. Pugsley didn’t really care about this lecture, only paying attention when it was time to take care of the dangerous, poisonous and carnivorous ones. So instead of listening to the teacher’s babbling, he played quietly with Eugene’s fingers.
Pugsley liked Eugene’s hands. They were smaller and slimmer than his. He could feel each bump of bones while stroking his fingers. Their temperature often changed depending on the weather, emotions and work he put on. It was fascinating for Pugsley, as his stayed cold as death no matter the time of the year or how much he’d been moving them around. Eugene had once told him that people with cold hands had the warmest heart. He didn’t know if he believed him, but the burning feeling of his ribcage was a permanent thing ever since Eugene had started to open up to him, letting him enter his world, sharing secrets and routines.
He just hoped that Eugene’s warm hands didn’t mean that his heart was cold as ice.
Pugsley was aware of his own soft heart, he didn’t know if he could handle Eugene having a stone one.
Playing with Eugene’s fingers was a recurrent thing for both of them. Sometimes, when they were talking to each other without doing anything else, Pugsley would instinctively take Eugene’s hand in his and trace each line with his pointy finger.
Or, when they were walking down Jericho’s streets, their hands would bump into each other multiple times before he would intertwine their fingers, in a shared smile. Hand holding never lasted longer than a minute, but it felt special every time. Feeling Eugene’s hands in his made Pugsley’s stomach combust like a wildfire.
For lunch, both boys ate face to face, legs touching under the table, rambling about their boring - or interesting on Eugene’s part - classes.
Pugsley spent the rest of the day alone, hoping for the next class to not take his last breath from how deadly boring they were. He didn’t want to die like this, Wednesday would make sure to summon his spirit to mock him every day.
Fortunately, the end of classes arrived soon enough, the last bell ringing loudly into the students eardrums. Pugsley’s bag had been packed for ten minutes now, not bothering to scribble down the teacher’s last words - last words ever, Pugsley deeply wished - or homework. As soon as the first note of the bell rang, he bursted out of class. Sitting near the door has its advantages, arriving last and leaving first without being caught one every four times. Today, luck was on Pugsley’s side and detention wouldn’t see him coming anytime soon.
He ran to the beehive where Eugene should’ve been for at least two hours now - the lucky bastard finished class earlier than Pugsley on Thursdays.
He opened the door carefully, not wanting to startle his friends and the bees, or not breaking the old wooden door. When he peaked inside, his eyes widened. It was empty, apart from the usual buzzing of Eugene’s little pets. He walked inside, looking for any notes he could’ve left. Since Pugsley didn’t have a phone, Eugene took the habit of leaving him sticky notes here and there to tell him where to find him - knowing the taller boy would look for him as soon as he was alone.
But nothing.
Which meant Eugene hadn’t even stepped foot here for the whole day.
Which was odd and unlike Eugene.
Pugsley frowned, worrying his lower lip. If Eugene wasn’t here, it probably meant he was back to their dorm, doing his homework or taking care of his other pets.
Pugsley headed to their bedroom, pressing his walk.
He bursted into the bedroom with a huge smile, ready to see his favourite face after longing hours of being separate, when he met emptiness again.
It didn’t make sense.
Where on Earth could he be?
The principal's office was off the table as Eugene wasn’t a troubled kid. Downtown was also impossible since Eugene didn’t like going there unless he was with someone - Pugsley. Meeting other friends? Apart from Wednesday and Ajax, Eugene didn’t really have friends. He knew for a fact that Ajax was out with Bianca on ‘a date’ apparently, and it was near Wednesday writing hour, so he surely couldn’t be with her.
Maybe with Enid?
A pang of jealousy traveled his whole body, making him jerk. Eugene had once told him about his old crush on her, and at that time Pugsley didn’t truly pay attention to it. But now… Now everything felt different.
Instinctively, Pugsley clenched his jaw and turned away. He didn’t care about the consequences he’d face by disturbing Wednesday’s peace, he needed to know where Eugene was, and assured he wasn’t flirting with Enid.
Pugsley liked her, but he didn’t know what he was capable of if he saw them holding hands. Damned be his following death by Wednesday’s bare hands.
He didn’t bother knocking on the heavy dark door. He didn’t have the time for that.
The door hit the wall loudly as he made his presence known to anyone occupying the half and half room. To his surprise, three heads and five fingers turned to him, looking at him with scaredy-cat eyes. Except one, of course.
“What is going on?” He asked, as confused as them.
“Painting nails?” Enid answered, elevating a colourful brush in the air. Thing wiggled his painted fingers - dark purple like fresh bruises. Wednesday put both hands upside down near her chest to show her black nails, with a boring face that hid her enjoyment - but Pugsley saw the twitch of her lips.
“Eugene is next,” she continued, turning back to her task. “You can choose a colour if you want to join us.”
“So is it like-”
“-‘Girls night’,” Wednesday interrupted him, hands on her knees, to let her nails dry without touching anything.
Pugsley sat down next to Eugene, who offered him a knowing shy smile. “Sorry, Enid kidnapped me after class before I had time to find you.”
“I was… worried. That something happened to you.”
“I’m fine, Pugs.” Eugene patted Pugsley’s knee, reassuringly. Pugsley wanted to take his hand in his, but he refrained from doing it.
“So what happened next?” Wednesday asked Enid, returning to their initial conversation before Pugsley rudely interrupted them.
“I hit him, obviously! I won’t tolerate hate, especially coming from a normie.”
“I’ll never understand why it is such a problem for them.” Eugene sighed, shaking his head and frowning. “My mums had to change town once when I was a baby because the whole neighbourhood was bullying them. They couldn’t accept two women having a kid together.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Pugsley tilted his head to the side, not connecting the dots.
“Homophobia,” Wednesday simply said, as a matter of fact.
“Some normies called me a ‘lesbo’ earlier today,” Enid said at the same time, as if more information would help him.
“What’s that?”
A pregnant pause followed his question. Eugene looked at him surprised, eyebrows almost touching his hair line, while Enid paused everything, mouth opened so wide Pugsley thought it would touch the floor. Wednesday glanced at him, face unreadable.
“You don’t know what homophobia is?” Enid asked. Pugsley shook his head innocently. Was that surprising? Pugsley didn’t know a lot of words, it was just one among others.
“It’s when people hate gays and lesbians,” Eugene tried to explain, hands moving all over the place.
“Gay and lesbians? I don’t understand.”
“Men in love with men. Women in love with women,” Wednesday added precision. Pugsley’s eyebrows rose, finally understanding at least the main topic and connecting the dots.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Exactly!” Enid exclaimed, nodding her head like a clown toy. “It shouldn’t be a problem, and yet normies are making it one!”
“Not just normies…” Eugene quietly said, “some outcasts also think it’s weird.”
“But why? I don’t get it.”
“Some people think it’s unnatural. Weird. A sin. It’s a crime in some countries. People get killed for who they love. Or their families ban them, hate them. They’d rather have their children be outcasts than homosexuals.”
A pang of anxiety rose inside Pugsley’s chest. For a moment, filling his lungs with air was harder, his stomach contorted into itself, and his throat tightened up. On the outside, he did everything he could to not show his friends his distress, but he had never been as good as Wednesday to keep his emotions inside. So he nodded once, sharply, mouth pressing in a thin line and eyebrows frowning deeply.
While they were going back to their conversation again, Pugsley stayed inside his head, unable to listen to them or participate anymore.
Love was an object of hate in the world, and he had no idea about it.
All of his life, his parents had taught him that Love was the most precious feeling in the world, something deserving to be cherished and held in careful hands. Not to be crushed, not to be mocked. But to be celebrated, shown, proud. The only thing as beautiful as the morbid, grandiose like fireworks, powerful like a shot in the head, deadly like the sweetest kiss of death on an infant.
But the more Pugsley thought about it, the more he saw a pattern.
His parents were a man and a woman.
And his whole family consisted of men and women sharing themselves.
No women together. No men together.
Even Wednesday had kissed boys, when she was lacking true romantic feelings.
Was he… not normal then? For his heart drumming behind his ribs for a boy and not a girl?
Would his parents hate him for taking a romantic interest in Eugene?
Agnes appeared in front of him, face too close to his, examining his face with her big green eyes, face turning to the side like an owl. Pugsley jumped from where he was sitting, startled by her. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t sensed her, way too deep inside his own thoughts.
“What’s going on, Pugsley? You look pale.”
“I’m always pale,” he tried to defend himself. If his blood circulation worked normally, he knew his cheeks would show their furnace right now.
“It’s worse than usual,” she noted, the corner of her lips threatening to mock him. Pugsley stood up, stumbling on his feet, back straight as a ruler.
“I’m going to bed.”
“It’s not even dinner time yet.” Eugene looked at him with curious eyes and a hint of concern. “Are you okay?”
“I feel… sick.” Pugsley never got sick. But every twist of his organs made him feel like vomiting at any time. He’d rather do it in his own bathroom than here, on Enid’s rainbow carpet.
Before they could ask him more questions, he ran away.
Inside his room, Pugsley took off his clothes, not caring about his other roommates chatting or doing their homework. He dressed down to his underwear, leaving his clothes dispatched on the floor, and crawled into bed. He put the comforter all over himself, head included, to hide himself from the world and the realisation that his form of love was the worst way to love - according to some people.
He cried. Silently. He didn’t sob or shake, but cold tears left his eyes to travel down his face.
It wasn’t fair.
He knew that he was weird, that people didn’t really like him because he loved danger and macabre. That never outgrowing his ‘I eat anything that I touch’ baby phase was seen as disgusting, especially when he bit into a pile of dirt because he saw multiple insects hiding in there. That carrying explosives in his pockets made him more of a threat than a friend for others. That his sparks annoyed more people than none, even if he had learned how to control it.
But he did cause chaos during his first year at Nevermore because of it - and his loneliness - and some people weren’t ready to forgive him.
It wasn’t fair because Wednesday wasn’t as different as him, and yet people found her cool and mysterious.
While he was just annoying and too much.
But Wednesday was normal. And he wasn’t.
He was chaos and she was order.
He was sensitive and she was control.
He was loud and she was calm.
He was gay and she wasn’t.
The room moved. He heard the door cracking, multiple steps moving around to leave the room, and quiet ones making their way to him. The mattress dipped next to him, and a hand took the comforter to reveal his face from under it.
He turned his face slowly to meet his sister’s dark stare. And yet, her face was softer than usual.
“Why are you crying, Pugsley?”
“Are you going to scold me?” His voice wasn’t higher than a murmur, but it felt loud inside the now quiet room. Wednesday freezing hand touched his cold shoulder, lightly stroking it at a reassuring pace.
“I can see that the earlier topic shook you to the core. I wasn’t aware you weren’t familiar with homophobia.”
“I don’t… particularly interact with people. Even less with normies. And mum and dad never talked about it.” He pouted, sitting up to face Wednesday. “They never talked about different ways of Love, anyway.” He sighed, closing his eyes for a second to stop himself from crying more. “Do you think they’d care?”
“That you’re homosexual? No, I don't think so.”
“But what if they’re part of the outcasts who also think it’s weird and disgusting? What if they look at me differently because I won’t be able to follow their legacy? Even you can do it. While I’ve always been one step to the side.”
Wednesday’s right eye twitched in a blink. Not the kind their father often did, but in an uncontrollable and bothered one. Something was wrong, but Pugsley knew better than to ask. She stood up, never breaking their unblinking eye contact. Abyss on abyss. Sadness and determination.
“Then you have to find out by yourself,” she challenged him. It made him smile, the way she showed her care by stimulating his brain. A good challenge would help him get out of the misery, and she would enjoy watching him struggling to get information from their parents. Pugsley nodded, and Wednesday disappeared the next instant as if he had hallucinated her.
——
- Gomez Addams
Pugsley made a list of all the family members he had to check on and in a precise order.
- Wednesday
- Dad
- Uncle Fester
- Mum
- Pubert
- Eugene (?)
He contemplated the last name on his list, pondering if he should erase it or not. Technically, Eugene wasn’t part of his family. But he wished. And if luck was on his side - and in his wildest dreams - he would marry him and make him an Addams. So keeping him on the list wasn’t a bad idea. But he kept him last. For safety reasons.
He knew Eugene wasn’t ‘homophobic’. Hell, the guy had two mums, but it was another thing to accept his best friend catching feelings for him. And the thought of Eugene hating him for good was terrifying. Worse than being killed by the human grinder at home.
He closed his notebook, tucking it under his mattress and went to bed, anxiously waiting for the weekend.
To Pugsley’s despair, his Friday’s classes had been cancelled due to the upcoming storm. All students have been sent back home earlier so they could all spend the long weekend with their families instead of being stuck inside the school. Lurch had come gathering Thing, Wednesday and his luggages, already waiting for them next to the car, when Pugsley saw a pink suitcase next to Wednesday’s safe.
“What’s that?” He pointed at Lurch, knowing a grunt from him would be his only response.
“Enid is coming with us. She doesn’t want to spend the weekend with her family, so the parents agreed to welcome her into our home.” Wednesday appeared from behind him with an excited bubble-gum next to her. He nodded, not knowing what to say. It wouldn’t be the first time she would’ve visited, but staying for two nights was new. He felt a little bit jealous, remembering he had to say goodbye to Eugene - with a hug. Pugsley wouldn’t have let him go without a long and bones-breaking hug - thirty minutes ago.
The ride was filled with Enid’s rambling and surprisingly answers from Wednesday, like she was truly listening to everything she was saying. Pugsley had long ago shut down his inner ears, only rolling his eyes from time to time when he felt like listening to his parents flirting. He caught Lurch reacting the same way, visibly dying more and more each minute passing.
Pugsley was happy his sister had a friend like Enid, he was just bitter and jealous she would get to have her best friend with them for the whole weekend, without class and club interruption, and without fearing their parents would send them a strange look, wondering if they were in love or not.
Because Wednesday was good at keeping a straight face, and they were just friends.
He kept his pout until he reached his bedroom, barely saying hello to his parents as they greeted them at the front door. Not that he was the center of their attention anyway. Enid’s presence stole all the remaining attention they had for him. Easier to mourn on his own. No one to bother him. Good.
Pugsley groaned loudly in his pillow, frustrated.
It wasn’t his sister’s fault, he shouldn’t put the blame on her for being the interesting and most perfect child. Most of the time, it didn’t even bother him.
But he wished life was a bit more clement with him.
Just for once.
Friday evening at the Addams’ mansion meant fencing practice. Wednesday would fight with Morticia in the cellar - with Thing and Enid as spectators, maybe even participate - while Pugsley trained under the heavy rain with Gomez.
Pugsley was barely containing his sparks as his emotions jumbled together. He was scared, angry, frustrated. Fencing usually helped regulate his feelings, but tonight it felt impossible. He kept losing. He kept falling into the mud. His clothes were dirty and damped. His hair fell on his eyes. He could barely see with the rain and wind.
He was cold.
And Gomez kept laughing and provoking him.
Rationally, Pugsley knew it was part of the game. But tonight it felt too much. Unbearable.
“Enough!” He yelled against the wind, tightening his grip on the heavy sword. “I can’t take it anymore!” Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he was glad the rain hid the evidence of them. He didn’t want to appear even more weak in front of his father.
“My boy, are you alright? You haven’t even bled yet.” Gomez approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t believe his father still looked great drenched, while he looked and smelled like a wet dog. He may have inherited his father’s power and his mother’s height, but all his disgracious traits were his and only his.
“I want to come back home,” Pugsley sniffed, head dropping in shame of his weakness. His heart hurt. He knew that the following conversation wouldn’t be easy. But it was necessary. Even if all his senses screamed to not play this game and ignore the problem for as long as he could.
Gomez didn’t ask more questions and took Pugsley’s arm gently to guide him inside their home. They headed to the grand bathroom on the first floor. Pugsley sat by the bathtub while Gomez looked for clean towels.
“Dad.” A lump in his throat made it difficult to talk, but he pushed through it. Gomez turned around in his innocent self, ready to hear what his son had to say. “Have you ever loved someone other than mum?”
“Your mother is the only person I’ve loved and will ever love for the rest of my life.”
“But,” Pugsley gulped, taking the towel Gomez handed him to dry his face, “what if you never met mum. Did you find other people.. attractive?”
Gomez stayed silent for a moment. Pugsley observed him, heart hammering in his chest, threatening to tear it apart to flee as far as possible, leaving his lifeless body on the floor. Gomez took his jacket to put it on the door, walking slowly in the room, leaving Pugsley getting eaten by anxiety.
“People are beautiful creatures. All unique, painting the world in different shapes and forms. But your mother is the most extraordinary, one of a kind, attractive one of them all. I can’t even imagine looking at someone else. Even in a ‘what if’ possibility.”
“So no other girls… or boys… ever caught your eyes before.” Pugsley’s voice was small, almost revealing his intentions. Gomez frowned, face dark and merciless. The real face of an Addams appeared and Pugsley knew his last bed was going to be a casket if he kept going.
“Pugsley, stop talking non-sense. Go take a shower and dress well for tonight. We don’t want our guest to think we’re ungrateful to have her with us for the weekend.”
Gomez left the room, wrath leaving a strain behind him.
If Pugsley cried more in the shower, no one mentioned his red eyes for the rest of the evening.
——
- Fester Addams
Uncle Fester travelled faster than lightning and was as impervisible as thunder. No one truly knew where he was, as he could be locked in prison or frying himself on the rooftop of some random Head of Country’s third house. So contacting him through a crystal ball was a better option than waiting for his next family visit.
Pugsley closed the door of his bedroom, setting up all his traps in case someone dared to come inside without his invitation, and sat at his desk. He took his small crystal ball, placed it in front of him and put his fingers on it. He closed his eyes - just like Morticia had taught him - and thought hard of his uncle.
When he opened his eyes, he met with the pale face of the one and only Fester, greeting him with a wide smile.
“My boy! What gives me the honour of seeing you today!”
“I have a question, Uncle Fester!” Somehow, Pugsley wasn’t too nervous to ask him. His uncle liked weird and unusual things. Hell, he married Debbie when Pugsley was still a kid. And that lady was the weirdest woman he has ever seen in his life. So him liking a boy wouldn’t be too much of a problem, right?
“Shoot!”
“What do you think of Love?”
“An amazing thing if you need to manipulate the people around you. Of course not family love. We’re talking about romance, like your parents love to throw around.” His snickers made Pugsley smile. He knew talking with his uncle wouldn’t be so bad.
“And what about different romantic Love?”
“Like what? Cause I don’t have anything bad to say about Werewolves mating humans. Happened to the best of us. And Werewolves can be great mates, even in their wolf form.”
“No, not interspecies relationship. I meant, women together or.. two men.”
“Why?”
The question caught him off guard. Pugsley blinked once, flustered.
“I just- I’ve been aware it was a problem for some people.” Lying to his uncle was not an option. His parents couldn’t tell right away if he was hiding things from them, but Fester? Just by his single blinking he knew something was up.
Fester shook his head, his ever lasting smile dropping in a serious frown. “Don’t let anyone tell you what’s good or bad. Live your life as you wish, and people who will accept you as a whole are the ones you can trust. The rest of them, you can start digging their grave.”
“I’m not- I’m not talking about me.” Okay maybe lying was still on the table, but it was a defence mechanism. No one could blame him for trying to protect his fragile and already wounded heart.
“Sure, buddy,” Fester answered after a while. “But you should still take my advice. Weirdness is our strength. Be weird, my boy. Be different if that’s what makes you happy.”
Pugsley nodded one last time before Fester’s face disappeared from the crystal ball.
——
- Pubert Addams
Getting his mother’s attention wasn’t an easy task. So he skipped her. For now. Her focus was too much on Wednesday that even after multiple attempts to talk to her, Pugsley had resigned from more humiliation.
So instead, he went to Pubert, who was silently playing in the attic with broken wires and a sharp knife.
Pugsley sat down next to his sibling, who paid no attention to him.
“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep doing that.” He batted Pubert’s hand away from their mouth, as their tongue was almost touching the wires. “At least do it with still working wires and not old and rusty ones. Electricity tastes better.”
Pubert exhaled loudly, exasperated. She put down the wires and started sucking on the knife instead.
“I’m going to say it once and quickly: you can have a million reasons to hate me, but never hate me for falling in love with a boy instead of a girl.”
When Pubert didn’t answer, not without a grunt, Pugsley left him playing by himself again, locking the attic in the process.
——
- Morticia Addams
The last dinner of the insufferable weekend at the Addams mansion was filled with Gomez everlasting flirting with Morticia, Wednesday’s rambling about the last crime case she read about in the newspaper to a pale Enid, and a quiet Pugsley.
He wasn’t hungry. Even the juicy cat liver in front of him wasn’t effective on his tasting buds. His stomach hurt at the thought of his father shutting him down yesterday and his mother's lack of attention.
Maybe tonight would be his last moments before being kicked out of the family for good.
But he had to do it.
The fear and anticipation was eating him alive. At least Wednesday was here, probably his only ally and anchor of his life.
He put down his utensils and cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.
Of course it didn’t work the first and third time.
So he got up, chair shrieking against the old floor. His thighs hit the table, shaking everything on it, shutting everyone off.
He looked around the table. Gomez looked at him patiently but not without an arched eyebrow. Morticia seemed calm and open for anything Pugsley had to announce. Wednesday's emotionless face showed a glow hint in her eyes, ready for the grand reveal - witnessing her brother finishing the challenge she imposed on him. Pubert kept eating, but was quiet - probably plotting against the whole family or something more obscure a five years old infant could think of. Enid smiled at him, encouraging him to speak up. Did she know?
Anyway.
“I have something important to say. I’ve been trying to leave hints here and there but I don’t think it worked.” He looked at his father, who put his hands on his lap and straightened his back.
“I don’t know how you will take it. But seeing how my feelings keep growing, I can’t hide it forever.” Pugsley took a deep breath and locked eyes with his mother. Suddenly, he was a child again in front of his tall, reassuring and impressive mother. She was so full of love for him that he felt like crying.
“I’m in love with someone. Deeply in love. I want to spend the rest of my life with that person, if the feeling is mutual.”
Gomez smiled and clapped once, opening his mouth to congratulate him before Morticia put a steady hand on his shoulder, silently telling him to let Pugsley continue without interruption.
“That person is a boy.” A spark of electricity cracked between his fingers as he dropped the bomb. He couldn’t take it back, rewind time, erase what he just said. This was it.
And he waited.
No one moved for what felt forever but after twenty seconds, Morticia smiled and rose up.
“My sweet boy. Why are you so afraid?”
“Because I’m different? I can’t love like you and dad. What if you hate me for it?” A tremor found home in his throat, a single tear running down his cheek. He had always been so weak, too emotional. Not a real Addams.
“Do you think we didn’t know? I am your mother, of course I’ve always known.” She left her seat and walked up to him, never flattening her smile. “When you were around eleven, I had a vision of you as an adult, holding hands with a curly haired young man. I had it when your eyes lingered on a boy for the first time.”
If Pugsley had the ability to blush, his inner crimson chest would spread all over his neck, cheeks and ears. Morticia put a hand on his round cheek, stroking it with his thumb with all the softness she had. “You and your sisters are perfectly perfect. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. It doesn’t matter that Enid isn’t a boy or Eugene a girl. Love was never meant to be shaped in the same mold.”
Pugsley breathed out, smiling at her, full teeth on display. She hugged him tightly, caressing the back on his head while he buried his face on her shoulder.
Wait.
Pugsley straightened again, eyes widened and looked between Wednesday and Enid like they both grew a head that attached them together.
“You’re a couple?!”
“It was about time you found out. I can’t believe it took you seven months and a day,” Wednesday replied, amused by her brother’s blindness.
“Yesterday was our anniversary!” Enid clapped excitedly on her chair. “That’s why I’m here!”
“We even had cakes.” Gomez smiled at them, proud of his daughters.
“I thought- I thought-”
“You don’t think a lot, Pugsley. But I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.”
“Fuck you, sis,” Pugsley chuckled, sitting down again, stomach finally rumbling and starving.
His family loved him. He was still part of them. He didn’t disgrace his name. He was a real Addams.
He couldn’t wait to see Eugene again tomorrow.
——
- Eugene Ottinger
They arrived on Sunday late afternoon, when the sun was at dawn, and the chill weather bit the skin of hot blooded people. For Pugsley, the cold gave him a boost of energy, and he felt like everything was possible. He was going to see Eugene, hug him, and confess.
He defeated his family, Eugene was the last part of his plan. The last piece to make his heart complete.
He ran to his dorms, heart warming up and playing a beautiful melody.
When he opened the door of their shared bedroom, he saw Eugene sitting on his bed, reading what looked like a new book. The latter looked up, and smiled immediately as they locked eyes. He closed the book, pushed it aside and stood up for both boys to meet in the middle of the room. Pugsley enveloped Eugene’s neck in a strong hold, inhaling the sweet honey smell that lingered on his soft curls. Eugene placed both hands on the small on Pugsley’s back, holding him just as tightly.
“Hi, baby.”
“Hi, Cariño, I missed you.” Eugene chuckled, chest vibrating against his, in harmony with the beating of his heart.
They both reluctantly detached from each other, smiling dumbly while looking at each other. Pugsley took Eugene’s hands in his, determined to get everything out of his chest now. He didn’t care they weren’t alone inside the room, the others had learned to ignore them a long time ago.
“I have something to tell you.” Eugene nodded without saying a word. “I told my family I was in love with you. They don’t hate me for this. They’re proud of me.”
“What?”
Eugene’s face turned into a beautiful red. His eyes bugged out of his skull, Pugsley could almost count the veins around the iris. His mouth stayed wide open and the grip on their hand became slippery from the sudden excess sweat coming from Eugene.
“You’re what?”
“I’m in love with you,” Pugsley repeated, swallowing hard.
Oh.
Maybe the problem wasn’t his family, but Eugene.
He had forgotten about the possibility of Eugene not liking him back.
Maybe the curly haired boy his mother had seen in her vision wasn’t him, but someone else, and Pugsley just had a type.
He let go of Eugene’s hand, shaking.
“I mean, you don’t have to like me back. It’s cool.”
As he was ready to take a step back - and flee - Eugene grabbed his wrists, keeping him here.
“I love you too. I was just surprised, I’m sorry.”
“Surprised? I thought it was obvious,” Pugsley giggled, containing himself from jumping on the boy in front of him.
“You were. I just didn’t expect you to confess today,” Eugene grinned, sliding his hands back to Pugsley’s cold hands. His face was still red, and Pugsley couldn’t help but look down at his plump bitten lips. He wanted to-
“Can I kiss you?” Eugene asked, startling him. Pugsley nodded, biting back a smile, and lowered his head while Eugene got on his tip toes.
When their lips touched, Pugsley almost set the room on fire.