A/N: In this chapter, Moe and Smithers go on a bit of an adventure together. But I'd better not reveal too much of what happens right now... ;-)

(Third-Person P.O.V.)

That night, Moe found that he could not sleep no matter what he tried. The warm glass of milk backfired, breathing in and out just wasn't working, and sheep were boring as hell to count. He tossed and turned so much, one would've thought there were Mexican jumping beans in his pants. Although, knowing there were past illegal shenanigans he'd been a part of, it would not surprise most people if there were. He grunted and groaned, shuffling to one side, then the next. Someone call a doctor, got a case of bed-bipolar, he thought irritatedly, as he referenced the well-known Katy Perry song.

Just as suddenly, a knock was heard downstairs. Moe cursed and hid his head under a pillow. Who in Santa Hill was knocking on his front door at this time of night?!

"Go away!" he mumbled. He thought that maybe if he just lay there, the person knocking would get a damned clue and move on. However, that plan did not exactly work out.

Knock knock knock! The person insistently knocked on the door, having decided not to leave. Moe growled frustratedly and nearly teared his hair out before grabbing the shot gun and trudging down the stairs. Once he opened the front door, he was embarrassed to find that it was not just some annoying pinhead, but his annoying pinhead best friend.

"Smithy? What are you doing here?" he asked. Smithers brightened up at the older man's mention of his name.

"Moe! Moe, guess what I saw?" he declared excitedly. Moe rubbed his eyes tiredly, yawning as if he'd just come out from hibernation.

"A new Duff Beer factory?"

"Nope!"

"A flying peanut butter monkey?" Smithers laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"No, you clot! There's a whole field of fireflies who migrated from Maryland! C'mon, I'll show ya!" The younger man took Moe's hand and dragged him ecstatically to the car. Then, he drove to the field. When they got out, Smithers smiled at Moe's reaction. The older man's jaw dropped at least five feet. "So? What do you think?" he prodded.

A natural courtyard was formed by three walls of trees and the side with the road. The trees towered intimidatingly, their blackness and twisted branches coming across as something out of Sleepy Hollow. And yet, it was creepily beautiful, just the same. What really caught his eye, though, was the luscious green field entirely composed of grass and ferns and the tiny golden lights that allowed him to see it. These lights flickered on and off like a strobe light and golden-honey hues reflected off Smithers's glasses.

"Call me corny, but...I can barely even speak right now," Moe croaked. Never in his life had he seen anything more beautiful. This was something worth getting out of bed for. Hell, he'd give up smoking to be at a such a peaceful sanctuary like this every night. Smithers laughed at that.

"Then don't. C'mon, let's catch some fireflies," he said, grabbing Moe's sleeve and dragging him into the field. In the other hand, he held a trusty Mason jar. With this, he would be able to capture the beauty that shimmered in the air around the two men.

"Betcha I can catch more than you can!" Moe taunted, holding up the Mason jar he'd also conveniently brought along.

"O-ho! Prepare to lose, Mr. Szyslak!" Smithers backfired cheekily.

"I don't think so! At least I ain't old, like you!" Smithers cracked up.

"Well if I'm old, then what are you?!"

"Forty-seven years young!" Moe replied sassily, sticking his tongue out. Smithers gave him a playful shove.

"You're an arrogant little bugger!"

"Just wait 'till I win! Then this'll be the least of your problems!"

"You mean when I win?"

"That's what I said! When 'I' win!"

"Haw haw! You're a real Funny Farm!" They spent the next few minutes desperately trying to catch fireflies. It wasn't just because of their friendly-rival game, either. They wanted to catch one for the sake of preserving its beauty inside a glass jar. Neither one of them could see where they were going and wound up tripping over a large tree branch that had fallen to the ground prior to their arrival. The result: they fell. Duh.

"Woah!" The two men tumbled downwards, but it just-so-happened that they landed in a soft patch of ferns...with Smithers laying on his back...and Moe in an awkward position on top of him. Then, at once, everything became silent. Sounds and echoes faded away one by one as the two men began to enter their familiar silence. But this time, it was something more content, more calm, more serene...more intimate.

Moe didn't even register in his mind that he was already starting to play with Smithers's hair gently. Smithers's smile grew, until it was a giant semi-circle that took up half of his face. It was him who broke the silence first.

"Hi," he whispered, in a slower manner than usual. Moe noted to himself that this time, his voice sounded deeper, wittier, and...sexier? What?

"H-Hello," Moe replied, more nervous than usual. They weren't able to move. They were stuck, like turtles on their backs, or marble statues that crumbled to the ground. They couldn't possibly move. ...Or was that just their excuse? Neither man knew, and one of them even thought he was straight, but they both beared the same thing in mind: they sure as hell liked wherever this was going.

Instead of starting up a new conversation or getting up and leaving abruptly, the world the two men shared re-entered its state of silence. Moe's brain was an all-out battlefield: half of his conscience was telling him to stop being such a creepo and go get himself a girl, while the other half was saying screw that, he should totally just make-out with this guy while he was there. He didn't even care what his stupid sexual orientation was right then. All he really wanted (or so his heart told him) was to kiss the man that currently lay below him, lips parted and eyes gleaming.

What could go wrong, he figured, I mean, he's already gay, so it couldn't hurt. And anyway, I could just blame it on the fact that I fell. And so, without any further hesitations, Moe gently slid his hands onto Smithers's cheeks, leaned his head downwards, and placed his lips upon his softly and sweetly. Smithers hitched his breath: his lips were motionless. After a few seconds, Moe pulled back and looked the younger man in the eye. He wasn't the least bit sorry. He had made his decision and Smithers was given plenty of time to get away. Now the only question was whether he would validate the event that just took place.

Much to his relief, the younger man gave him the dopiest, Sean Patrick Flanery-ist smile, his lips still glistening from where Moe's had been.

"I was waiting for this moment," he whispered passionately, before leaning up a bit and surprising Moe with a kiss of his own. They lay in the field all night, giving each other small kisses and looking at all the fireflies. The moment felt so right to Moe. He never wanted it to end, ever. But of course, it eventually did. ...Because that is how all good dreams end.

"God-dammit!" Moe shouted furiously, throwing a pillow across his room when he woke up in his bed.

A/N: That's right! It was all just a dream! Hence why that's the chapter title. Did I fool you? But don't worry. I'm not completely heartless: they'll get together sooner or later.