Chapter Three: Becoming Smithers

After Mr. Burns had left the bathroom, Waylon lingered there a bit longer, staring at himself in the mirror. His ash-brown hair was all ruffled where Mr. Burns' fingers had ran through it and he now had a carefully placed bandage over his left eye. His face was a lot cleaner from the dirt and scuffs he'd gotten in his fight and it seemed that Burns had made a surprisingly good nurse, especially with the melancholic mood he had been in whilst reflecting over the death of his friend. The scar over his eyebrow felt considerably better and no longer throbbed constantly with pain now that it was covered by the bandage, perhaps even feeling sort of a placebo effect from the caring way that Burns had attended to his wounds.

He wasn't really sure where to go from here. He should probably stick around longer to see if Burns had any chores or errands that needed to be done, maybe even enjoy a bit of the man's company if he would allow it. He entered the grand room, his footsteps echoed throughout on the marble floors, his eyes searching for Burns, but he was nowhere to be seen. The the room was insanely huge and almost hauntingly empty like the ballroom of an abandoned palace, the large fireplace taking up nearly an entire wall. He knew that Burns often spent time in there with the lights low, the fire crackling cheerfully to offset his somber mood and taking solace in the emptiness and the cavernous feel of the space.

It was only when he entered the smaller, yet stately den that he found Burns sitting there in his blue-green, wing-backed chair, absentmindedly stirring his coffee and his white hat placed on the coffee table in front of him. Burns didn't even seem to notice when Waylon cautiously stepped further into the room and sat down on the matching blue-green sofa across from him. Burns really seemed distracted today, which was understandable given the significance of the date and the memories of his friend Waylon Sr. who had died fifteen years to the day.

Waylon's eyes drifted around the room, soaking in the familiarity of it, the elegantly posh, yet lived-in feel. The walls were blue with rich, beveled oak wainscoting and the floors were covered in lush burgundy carpeting with a large royal blue rug in the center. It was still large and quite presidential, but it was much cozier than any other room in the house, yet still exuding Burn's classic, extravagant style. Waylon decidedly liked spending time there with Mr. Burns more than anywhere else in the world.

Waylon cleared his throat, effectively catching Burns' attention. Burns took a sip of his coffee, looking up at him from over his cup for a moment as if in contemplation. Waylon felt a small rush under the scrutiny of that gaze, his eyes averted nervously to a painting on the wall behind Burns for a moment before the man finally broke the awkward silence.

"So Waylon," Burns started. Waylon sat up a little straighter. "care to tell what happened at school today? Who did you fight?"

"Well, it wasn't a fight really. This guy, Jimmy, thought I was moving in on his girl and... it's stupid really. Just a misunderstanding." he explained.

"Ah... a girl. Now it gets interesting." Burns leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and waiting for him to continue divulging more information. Waylon took a deep breath before continuing, finally relaxing a little now that they'd gotten into the flow of conversation.

"No. I don't really like her, she invited me to the prom in front of her musclebound boyfriend... I guess to make him jealous or whatever, though I don't know who'd be jealous over me."

"Not your type huh?" Burns asked, turning his head to the side curiously.

"N-not really no. I'm... I'm not really into girls... not much. Maybe... I don't know... it's confusing." Waylon blurted, his words coming out in a hurried jumbled. His eyes widened as he realized how much he had revealed.

"So the prom?" Burns asked, totally dismissing it. Waylon took another deep breath, trying not to dwell too much on how sexy the man looked all dressed up in his white, pinstriped suit, his satiny red tie, all polished and reclining back in his chair with his legs crossed.

"Yeah. She invited me but I don't really want to go; besides, I can't dance."

"Can't dance? I don't believe that for one minute!" Burns uncrossed his legs and leaned forward in interest, resting his elbows on his knees. "Why, every young man should know how to dance! What do they even teach you in those schools these days? Trust me, lots of good business contacts can be charmed by just a bit of fancy footwork."

"But, I'm not the most physically coordinated person... not like you." Waylon looked up just in time to catch Burn's slight grin at the compliment, warming his heart just how much flattery seemed to effect the man.

"You remember when you were younger, how I used to try to teach you a few dance steps?" Burns asked. Of course he remembered. Those were some of his most cherished memories and even though he wasn't very partial to dancing, just having Mr. Burns so focused on him was more than enough incentive. Burns had always been the eager dance partner, never passing up the chance to show off his moves.

"Yes, I remember. It's been a long time hasn't it?" Waylon smiled, staring off at the far wall, unable to look at him for too long without his imagination inadvertently going off into strange and interesting places, most of which involved Mr. Burns in some state of undress. Waylon shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"Far too long." Burns leaned forward and took his hat from the coffee table and placed it on his head. Waylon watched with interest as Burns then stood to his feet and extended a hand to him. "Take my hand." Burns ordered calmly.

"What?" he looked up from Burns' extended hand, then to his eyes in a brief moment of uncertainty. His heart suddenly did an odd flip in his chest, his eyes going wide with recognition. Dancing mean physical contact and he wasn't sure how much physical contact he could actually take from him without melting right there on the spot!

"Come on, take my hand. I'll take the lead." said Burns, a playful glint in his eye as he held his hand out, waiting for him to take it. When his hand slid into Burns' he actually let out a whimper, butterflies suddenly swarming at the feeling. Burns' grip tightened on his hand and without warning, he was suddenly yanked to his feet and into Burns' arms, his chest firmly planted against Burns' and it was quite disorienting, especially when he realized that they were about the same height now, the fact being even more apparent being so close up. He moaned at the full frontal contact, never having been so close.

"Something wrong?" Burns asked. Waylon made a small noise, barely audible as he felt the breath on his neck as Burns spoke.

"N-no... I'm fine." said Waylon shakily.

"Now step aside. Watch my feet." Burns said, stepping further away from him and the furniture. Burns looked down to his own feet in concentration as he took two steps forward, then two steps back in time with imagined music. Waylon cleared his throat, making sure that his voice was okay to speak.

"Is that the Charleston?" he asked.

"Ah, you remembered. Excellent observation." Burns regarded him before resuming his demonstration. "First you take two steps, like this" Burns repeated the move. Even without music, his feet moved with such grace that he could certainly give Fred Astaire a real run for his money. Burns stopped and looked back up at him expectantly. "Think you can imitate that?"

"I can try... but I assure you, I won't be as good as you." Waylon praised.

"That's fine. Practically no one is." Burns flashed that charismatic smile of his, not one modest bone in the man's body, that's for sure. Waylon couldn't help but to mirror Burns' smile, it was infectious. "Well, go ahead, just like I showed you." Burns prompted.

"Okay." Waylon moved his feet, doing a fairly impressive imitation of Burns' move and repeated it several times in the pursuit of perfection. "But I don't think this is the kind of dance people my age are doing."

"Ah, balderdash! These moves are classic! Now to jazz it up a bit..." Burns repeated the same steps, only this time bending his knees a bit and turning his ankles with each step, speeding up his moves effortlessly.

"Oh, that actually looks pretty easy." Waylon took a spot next to him and copied him.

"Lots of people like to add their own little signature moves to it, whatever you want, there really are no constraints, but the basic steps are always simple." Burns' dancing came to a sudden stop and he went over to the far corner of the room. Waylon squinted his eyes, trying to see what he was doing, but it quickly became apparent once music began to fill the room. Burns came back and once again offered his hand to Waylon. "Shall we?"

"Together?" Waylon asked before he could stop himself.

"Why not? Just do the same steps as before, but place your right hand in my left like this." Their hands intertwined and his breath caught in his throat when Burns' right hand crept along his left side. Burns let out a low chuckle.

"Waylon, if you're this jumpy just dancing with me, I fail to see how you're ever going to dance with a girl." he laughed.

"I'm okay, really." Waylon laughed awkwardly out of sheer nervousness. Burns moved his feet so Waylon began to as well until he finally began to relax, their moves becoming impressively in sync. The rapid nature of the dance and the upbeat music was quite tiring, yet Burns showed no signs of quiting.

"You know, back in the old days, this dance was considered quite immoral and provocative." Burns said as they danced "such a dance was quite a popular way of being rebellious against one's parents as was the trend at the time. Though, that aspect hasn't changed much has it?" Burns laughed.

"I wouldn't know sir, I'm not very rebellious myself. My stepfather isn't one to be crossed..." Waylon spoke darkly, his dancing coming to a stop. He never liked his stepfather very much; the man had only whipped him once, but he'd never disobeyed him again. Mr. Burns never said anything bad about his stepfather, but he suspected that Burns didn't really like him much either. Burns looked like he wanted to say something, his face becoming more solemn and contemplative, but kept silent, one hand still clasped with Waylon's, the other still on his hip.

"Okay," Burns sighed, his face flushed and lively as he took a deep breath, "how about a slower dance? I'm getting a bit winded."

"Yeah, that sounds good." Waylon agreed absentmindedly. It was only when Burns crossed the room to change the record, the mellow and classically romantic tune of Moonlight Serenade filling the room, that he realized what he'd just agreed to and his eyes became wide with realization. It was a slow dance.

Burns' hands snaked their way around his hips and he moved in a little closer. They'd danced plenty of times before, but never a slow dance! Waylon took a deep breath and willed himself to relax, reveling in the feel of Burns' hands around him. His arms felt awkwardly positioned at first, unsure where to put them since Burns always naturally took the lead. He finally let his arms relax, hands reaching Burns' shoulders and resting there naturally.

"You know..." Burns said at length. They were dancing too close for Waylon to see his face, so he waited for Burns to continue. "I would have taken you in, raised you myself if I could have. I even offered your mother a monetary arrangement for custody of you, but there was no amount she would take."

"What? When... When was this?" Waylon exclaimed; Burns' statement had been so out of the blue that it caught him off guard. The combination of Burns' close proximity and the news he'd just received had his mind racing, his head spinning until he felt a little light headed.

"Soon after your father died. Your mother could have been set for life, but she turned down a fortune. You were far too priceless in her eyes," he paused, "the only connection to your father that she had left."

Waylon couldn't believe what he was hearing. Their lives could have been so drastically different, probably even for the better, for his mother and himself, but he couldn't blame her. She actually saw him as priceless. Waylon's stepfather never really wanted kids so he was more than happy to leave him with Burns when he didn't want to deal with him, sometimes even weeks at a time, especially during summer vacation.

"Well, at least I was wanted." Waylon laughed after a long while, finally letting it all sink in. He really wanted to ask more, but he was hesitant. He wanted to know why Burns had never told him, but he had the feeling it had something to do with pride, not really wanting to show how much he cared. Burns had always been funny about showing affection and he'd always said that people expect too much from you when they know you care. Better to keep your distance to avoid disappointing people, he'd say. Burns remained silent as they danced slowly, probably lost in thought like he had been for most of the day. Waylon Sr.'s death must have hit him harder than he'd ever let on since he rarely ever talked about it.

Waylon's thoughts came back to the present, noticing just how close Burns had become as they danced, the man's body brushing against his with nearly every step. Waylon closed his eyes, leaning into the embrace, his mind yelling at him that Burns' wouldn't allow it; however, Burns' arms wrapped further around his waist while Waylon's arms closed more around his shoulders. Their feet moved slowly, naturally. Despite the rush of excitement and hormones raging through him, Waylon had never felt more safe and relaxed in his whole life as Burns held him, even after the music had stopped, they continued to move slowly, Waylon still hearing the sentimental tune in his mind.

Then, Burns' next move inadvertently broke their peaceful rhythm. It was a rather innocent brush of Burns' fingers along the small of his back, but something in the way it affected Waylon, almost as if he'd hit an erogenous zone that he hadn't even been aware of, caused Waylon to gasp, his body tensing slightly as he began to notice just how overwhelmingly turned-on he'd become. How Burns hadn't noticed was beyond him considering how close their bodies were.

Those incredibly tantalizing fingers that made him shiver all over with unrequited lust, once again brushed along the same spot on his lower back, eliciting another desperate gasp. His face now flushed hotly, feet no longer moving with the music. Burns' embrace loosened slightly.

"Waylon?" he asked. Waylon was responding to the contact in ways that he only hoped Burns' wouldn't notice, his body tensing, breathing irregular. Waylon tried to assure him that he was fine, he really tried, but just when he thought that he'd finally found his voice, the words caught in his throat.

"I'm...I... oh god..." Waylon muttered, completely lost in the way their bodies were pressed together. Burns had to have noticed just how aroused he'd become, it would be hard for him not to notice by now, yet Waylon felt frozen on the spot, unable to push himself away without drawing too much attention to the action... to the fact that he was trying to hide his unintended and poorly timed arousal.

"Waylon." Burns uttered, his voice tinged with urgency and confusion. Burns' hands gripped Waylon's shoulders firmly, pushing him back slightly to look him in the eye. Waylon looked up and met a look of panic in Burns' eyes equal to his own. "Are you... is that...uh...?" Burns asked uncertainly.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry! I'm... I..." Waylon muttered in apology.

"It's uh... um... " Burns took a step back, putting a little space between them and Waylon's hand trailed down Burn's arm as he pulled away to steady himself. Burns looked down to the floor like he wanted to say something, but was unable to find a suitable response. Waylon felt like his heart had sank to his stomach; he had never been so thoroughly embarrassed and completely mortified in his whole life and it was at least a little consolation that Burns hadn't completely freaked out and embarrassed him even further. At least not yet.

"I'm sorry, I just became... lost in thought. I should have realized..." Burns said, pausing for an uncomfortably long moment. "P-perhaps we should... try another dance step." said Burns shakily, attempting to move on from the incident and Waylon couldn't have been more grateful for the sympathetic gesture. He must not have been paying attention because he was vaguely aware that Burns had just asked him a question as he was staring at him intently.

"Hmm?" Waylon asked.

"I was just telling you to watch while I show you the next dance step but..." Burns sighed heavily before continuing, "I can see this is going to be a problem for you..." Burns spoke tentatively, avoiding his eyes. "Look Waylon, It's... it was really nothing... could have been spurred on by anything and it happens to the best of us... especially at your age." he laughed nervously, "Don't worry about it."

"Uh... sure." Waylon responded. How else could he respond really? Waylon skidded his shoe across the rug, a nervous habit of his. He couldn't believe that he had just had that conversation with Mr. Burns and while he was glad that he had dismissed it so easily, Waylon knew his attraction hadn't been spurred on by just anything. It was now more concrete than ever just how deep his attraction to the man was and sadly, the idea that they'd ever be an item was simply too far-fetched, yet he knew the feeling would never fade since it had only grown stronger over the years. He wondered just how many years of unrequited love and longing attraction lay ahead for him and how many years he would be able to endure it.

"Now the Foxtrot is a lot quicker paced than..." Burns paused uncomfortably, "... the previous dance, but it's still simple when you break it down." and without another mention of the 'incident', Burns went on to demonstrate the Foxtrot just as he had with the Charleston with Waylon imitating him to the best of his abilities afterwords and he was quite proud of himself that he was actually able to keep up. After many practice attempts, several off-color jokes from Burns and Waylon falling on his face once, his embarrassment began to subside and became nothing more than an afterthought

Pretty soon the two where exhausted and full of lively merriment, both collapsing down onto the sofa giggling and completely winded from all the dancing.

"I tell you..." Burns panted from all the dancing and laughter, "in my day... that joke would have been considered completely scandalous," he laughed breathlessly, "especially in mixed company!" Burns laughed heartily again, a hand resting on his chest as he sat low on the couch, legs sprawled out tiredly in front of him. Waylon slouched next to him, his knee brushing along side Burns'; he closed his eyes for a moment as his breathing slowed. Today had been quite the eventful day now that he'd thought about it. He'd gotten into a fight, had his wounds attended to by the object of is affection, slow danced with Burns, danced the Charleston and Foxtrot, not to mention the embarrassing arousal incident. He sighed, a sudden question forming in his head now that he felt a little more unguarded and bold enough to ask it.

"Mr. Burns?" he asked, both of them still slouched tiredly onto the couch next to each other. Burns took a deep breath, one hand resting on his own stomach, his other hand resting limply on the couch.

"Hmm?" Burns asked.

"Why were you all dressed up tonight? Were you planning on going somewhere?"

"Oh. No, it's just... It's nothing. I had plans, but they fell through. My date couldn't make it." said Burns, sitting up a little straighter on the couch. Waylon sat up as well, the mention of the word date setting off jealously in him like he'd never known. It all felt so strange and new, feelings that had always been there now emerging as something unrecognizable, something more adult. He was about to say he was sorry about him being stood up like that, sorry that his date had canceled on him, but he knew that was a lie. Any person that could leave Burns hanging, all dressed up and nowhere to go didn't really deserve him in the first place and he knew if he were Burns date, he would move heaven and earth just to make sure he got there on time and if he did happen to be late or miss their date, he'd spend as long as it took to make it up to him.

"I guess it's a good thing I came by then." Waylon finally replied, satisfied that his answer was truthful without being to revealing.

"Yes, that is fortunate." Burns replied, looking at him before continuing to speak. "So was there any particular reason you decided to stop by?"

"Spending time with you is reason enough." Waylon smiled. Burns flashed him a quick smile before moving to stand.

"You know," Burns stated at length, "I think I'll have a nice cool glass of water how about you?" Before he could say anything else, Waylon stood and moved almost robotically to go fetch the water that Burns wanted like he'd done so many times. Burns hadn't ever asked him to do these things, he'd just always done them anyway ever since he was old enough to reach the kitchen counters. It made him feel special and needed. He thought that as long as he made Burns comfortable then maybe, just maybe he would decide to keep him around longer, preferably forever.

Soon after, Waylon returned from the kitchen with a tray and on it was the glass pitcher full of ice cold water and a glass. He sat the tray down on the coffee table, careful not to scuff the table or spill any water on it.

"Waylon, there's a butler for that you know." said Burns, sitting down on the sofa and watching as Waylon busied himself pouring the water.

"But I like doing things for you sir." Waylon said, sending a smile his way.

"Didn't you bring a cup for yourself?" Burns asked.

"Oh. I didn't think about it." Waylon replied. Truthfully, he really was thirsty, only noticing how dry his throat was now that he'd mentioned it.

"Go get yourself a cup Smithers." Burns insisted, rolling his eyes and sighing.

"Yes sir," Waylon grinned before turning away, the fact that Burns had just called him Smithers again not slipping his radar. He liked it when he called him that; it made him feel more like an equal, more adult and less like the little Waylon that he usually referred to him as.

He returned quickly with the cup and poured himself a glass, his eyes briefly catching a glimpse of Burns staring at him as he poured. He took the glass and sat down next to Burns; he could almost see the wheels turning in the man's head and he wondered apprehensively what he was thinking. Waylon cleared his throat and took a sip of his water, holding the glass down near his lap.

"Um... so... I got my braces off." Waylon said, more to break the silence than anything.

"Yes, so you have. I noticed earlier, but I thought I'd let you tell me about it when you got around to it." said Burns.

"Actually that's the reason I came over. Thought maybe I'd drive my bike down here and show off my metal free teeth." he laughed again awkwardly.

"Yes, they seemed to have straightened up very nicely; however it looks like you might need a new bike pretty soon. I noticed it when you were out by my gate. A bit too small and... girly for a man your age to be riding around on." Burns frowned at the thought distastefully.

"Oh... ah yeah I know. " Waylon laughed, inwardly squealing like a little girl that Burns now referred to him as a man. The bike was light blue with remnants of decorative tassel he'd ripped off the handle bars, but it was still identifiably a girl's bike. "I was actually thinking of getting an after-school job so I might be able to afford a car instead."

"Ah, now that's a wise investment!" Burns nodded, leaning forward and retrieving his glass of water from the table and taking a sip from it. Burns looked off to a far wall as he spoke, "So... any ideas on what kind of job you'd be looking for." he asked.

"Well... not really." Waylon replied. He had considered that getting a job would really cut in on the time that he'd be able to spend at Burns', but then again, getting a car and job would certainly impress the man as he seemed to value success and he'd be able to get to Burns' place much quicker and more conveniently with a car.

"You know you really would make an excellent assistant for some rich business tycoon in need of one." Burns spoke, looking down at the glass of water he held in his hand distractedly. Waylon thought it over for a moment; there was only one rich, business tycoon in the world that he wanted to spend time with and he didn't really think Burns would want to hire him.

"Of course, you would be paid minimum wage to begin with, especially considering you're still in high school." Burns spoke again. Slowly, Waylon's train of thought began to align with Burns' and his heart leaped for joy at the prospect. Burns actually wanted him as his assistant? It seemed almost too good to be true, actually getting paid for things he already did willingly!

"Sir, are you sure about this? You actually want me?" Waylon shook his head at the suggestiveness of that comment, quickly amending it. "-want me to be your assistant that is?" he asked, laughing at the way the words sounded, almost unbelievable coming from his own mouth.

"You want a car and I want an assistant... seems like a match made in heaven to me so... when can you start?" Burns asked, flashing him a grin that made him want to throw himself at the man right then and there and capture him in a tight hug, even a kiss if he were to be so daring. Of all the things that had happened that day, during his whole life, this had to be one of the best.

A.N. - I'm glad to have written another chapter of this story finally. A few people have said that they wanted to see this continue and now that I've found the time and inspiration to do so, I hope you've enjoyed it. I know Burns is still a little too nice here, but he will be his old irritable self soon enough, he's having an off day. xD Besides, I like to think Burns has his carefree, sentimental moments as well as his well known, evil 'in-character' persona, especially in his younger days.