Chapter Ten

Burns drove home after the appointment ended, arriving about an hour earlier than usual. When he walked in through the front entrance, the mansion felt empty. Assuming Smithers was in his room, Burns decided to venture into a closet where he kept old gifts from Smithers that he didn't use much. He had an entire cabinet of cards, some sweaters and technical gadgets. Among them was a walkman with headphones attached and an audio cassette inside. He opened it to read the label on the tape. It read: "mix tape for Monty" written in Smithers' hand. Burns replaced the batteries, then listened to it. It started playing the song "People Will Say We're in Love" from Oklahoma.

He opened the file cabinet and took out a stack of cards, reading them one by one. He noticed that Smithers nearly always wrote some lengthy message written in lavish language. As the cassette played on, he listened to the songs "Easy to Love" from Anything Goes, "Somewhere" from West Side Story, "On the Street Where You Live" from My Fair Lady, and "I've Been Waiting For You" and "My Love, My Life" by Abba.

By the time the tape got to the Abba songs, he muttered something about "sappy romantic tripe," then opened a Christmas card that wasn't from Smithers to Burns – it was the card they annually sent out to family and employees. The front of the card bore a photograph of Smithers with elf ears and a silly green outfit that made him look like one of the Happy Little Elves, standing with his arm around Burns' shoulder, Burns attired in a black overcoat and top hat. Burns had a carefree, enthusiastically fun-loving expression as he looked at Smithers, his mouth wide open in a smile as the photographer had caught his reaction to a joke from Smithers. "Oh, yes, I remember. We decided not to send this one because I looked too cheerful."

Halfway through the song, he felt a tear slip out from his eye, then another and another. He began to quietly sing along, imagining Smithers singing to him. "You thrill me, you delight me / You please me, you excite me / You're something I'd been pleading for. / I love you, I adore you / I lay my life before you / I'll have you want me more and more." He shook his head and dropped the card to the floor. "What am I doing? I am not some dewy-eyed adolescent. I'm a captain of industry, a man of dignity. I don't quietly pine for what I desire, I seek it out!" He stood up, setting the walkman on the file cabinet, the tape still playing as he left the closet and headed for Smithers' room.

As Burns swung the door to Smithers' room open, he saw Smithers in his robe tied loosely at the waist standing in front of him. "Waylon! You're standing!" Just as he said it, Smithers wobbled back and forth and fell backwards onto the bed, his robe opening a bit. Burns caught a flash of his boxer shorts.

"Not anymore."

"But you were!" He rushed to Smithers and sat at the front of the bed beside him. "You're making excellent progress. I'll have you back to normal before you can say 'strike-breaker.'"

"Thanks, but I still have a long way to go."

He caressed Smithers' cheek. "I missed you today." He brought his fingers to the back of Smithers' neck and kissed him on the lips, dragging his hand down from Smithers' neck to the front of his shoulder, and pushed him gently back onto the bed, maintaining their kiss as he fell on top of him, then slid his lips down to Smithers' neck and began kissing.

"Oh! Are you trying to give me a hickey?"

"Now I am," said Burns before diving back to lick and kiss him at a more aggressive pace, and Smithers began kissing along Burns' neck. Burns moved his hands to Smithers' chest, beneath the robes, pushing them apart. Smithers vigorously attended to Burns' neck, maintaining contact as he rolled Burns onto his other side. Sprawled on the bed, his robe open, exposing his bare chest and boxer shorts, Smithers said, "Give me the opportunity to impress you."

"You've already impressed me with the rate you can eat all that food and get such a chubby belly," he said, rounding the bed to sit beside him and place his hand over Smithers' stomach. He'd gained about twenty pounds from indulging his steroid-fueled appetite and his recent inactivity.

Smithers looked down at himself. "Is it really that much?"

"Hm?"

"Did I really gain so much weight I'm not attractive anymore?"

"What? No, I wouldn't say so."

"I promise, I'll start eating healthier tomorrow. I didn't realize."

"Please, Waylon, don't make a 'thing' out of this."

"I just don't want you to think I'm ugly," he said, pinching at his belly fat.

"For heaven's sake, you're not ugly," he said, prying Smithers' hands off his own belly.

"I'm not?"

"No! You're perfectly attractive."

"You're sweet. But I'm still going to go on a diet."

"If you insist. Sheesh."

At dinner, Smithers insisted on having only a light salad with a paltry smattering of lean chicken and egg white and a splash of balsamic vinegar. Smithers finished it quickly, then looked longingly at the plate of roast beef Burns was slowly whittling away at. After slowly inhaling the aroma, Smithers said, "How are you enjoying your roast beef, dear?"

"It's not as good as what you used to make me." He took another bite, keeping an eye on Smithers' envious expression. "Oh, for heaven's sake, have some!" He slid the plate in front of Smithers.

"No, I've eaten so much lately..."

"Eat it, Waylon. I'm not going to let you keep me up all night with your stomach rumbling a borborygmic symphony."

Smithers had a few slices, Burns cutting a new slice as Smithers ate. "There. Are you satisfied?"

"Yes, now don't you feel better?"

"Yes," he said, smiling and pushing the plate back to Burns, who resumed slowly taking bites. Yawning, Smithers said, "I'm really tired. I'm going to go to bed now," and began to sluggishly wheel himself toward the hall.

"Wait," said Burns, getting up from his seat. "Let me escort you." He wheeled Smithers down the hall, and when they arrived outside the door to Smithers' room, Burns turned him toward the door to his own room. "How would you like to sleep in my room tonight?"

"That sounds good." As Burns laboriously helped Smithers into his bed, Smithers said, "Why was I sleeping in a different bed, anyway, if we usually sleep together?"

"Well, truth be told..." Burns bit his lower lip. "The truth is, we didn't usually sleep in the same bed before the accident. We only shared a bed during..." Burns lowered his eyelids in a shy, seductive fashion as he sat on the bed beside him. "Our intimate congress."

"Our what? Oh," said Smithers with a smile and a blush. "I'm afraid I'm..." Smithers yawned. "Too tired for that now."

"Yes, of course. Get your rest." Burns changed into his robe and then pulled the blankets over his torso, smiling as his hand settled around Smithers' shoulder blade. "Heaven knows I could use some, too." Smithers put his arm around Burns, and they looked into each other's eyes as they kissed goodnight and Smithers placed his glasses on the nightstand.

In what felt like the next moment, Burns felt Smithers' hand tickling at the small of his back, then move for the tie to Burns' robe. "Waylon, what are you –?"

"Shh..." Burns felt Smithers put a finger to his lips before kissing them. As the sides of Burns' robe came apart, Smithers felt Burns' back underneath the robe. Burns reached for the waist of Smithers' boxers to tug them down, only to realize that he wasn't wearing any.

"What happened to your –?"

"The same thing that happened to yours," he said, and Burns realized he was naked below the waist as well. "I've been practicing with my physical therapy skills."

"Well done. If you were being graded, I would say you deserve an A-plus."

"I know what you want to happen next, as eager as you'd be to deny it," he said, dragging his hand down Burns' back to his buttock.

"I won't deny you."

"I won't deny you, either," he said, using lube on himself.

"Excellent." The next thing he knew, Smithers was topping him. "Oh... Harder. Faster." Smithers slightly quickened his pace. "Damn it, Waylon, I'm not made of tissue paper! Plow me!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Oh! Yes, that's it! Excellent!"

Burns awoke with a start. He was still lying in Smithers' arms, but he was fully clothed. To check whether Smithers was still wearing his boxer shorts, he felt the waistband of Smithers' boxers. Smithers stirred as he felt Burns pawing at his shorts and moaned, then pulled them down a few inches on one side, revealing the crease of one of his legs. Burns' eyes went wide, and he rapidly withdrew, rolling out of Smithers' arms and out of his bed. Smithers mumbled something in confusion but quickly fell back to sleep.

Burns retreated to the nearest bathroom. I can hardly believe it. A wet dream, at my age! I haven't had one in over fifty years. And with Smithers of all people! He splashed his face with water, then stared at the man he hardly recognized staring back at him. I wanted him to take me with vigor. He watched as the water dripped down his nose. I still want him to take me with vigor. I want him to take me and fill me and thrill me. He dropped his robe and looked at his scraggly white hair, his liver spots, his wrinkled skin and bony body. Here was the energy mogul laid bare, without the cheap trappings of corporate power. Just how far do I plan to take my little charade? He sighed and looked to his bony feet before looking back to the reflection of his face in the mirror. "What would Smithers even want with me this late in the game?"

He changed his underwear for a fresh pair, as he always kept a few spare pairs in his bathroom in case he needed to replace it, though this wasn't exactly the emergency scenario he'd had in mind. What does Smithers even think he's doing with me in the first place? He seems to think I'm sexy, but does he really mean it? Or is he just playing the doting lover? What if he finds out I've manipulated him with my actions? His mother would tear me a new one for taking advantage of him. She genuinely terrifies me when she's angry. I don't even want to think about what his father would think if he were still alive. He put his green robe back on, then went back to his bedroom, tip-toeing as he approached his bed, stopping to look at Smithers, whose mouth hung open as he snored. Smithers, you have no right to be so wretchedly adorable.

He curled up with Bobo, facing away from Smithers, and soon felt Smithers bring his arm around Burns' stomach. Dear God, I hope he is truly infatuated with me and not with my pocketbook. It would be the end of me if he left me like all the others.