Confusion overtook Bart's mind, as though two universes were colliding with eachother. He had been in the middle of sucking Bob off on his bed when Milhouse decided to call him, and knowing his best friend, he'd better answer before he got worried sick. He looked on bewildered as Bob tapped the screen and slowly put the phone to Bart's ear, a sadistic smile plastered on his face.

"Answer," he whispered.

Bart hated Bob. He hated him with an ambiguous passion that shouldn't even exist.

"H-hey, man, wh-what's up?" He asked shakily, grabbing the phone and trying to ignore Bob who moved around on the bed, thankfully freeing him from his miserable position.

"Bart? What's up? Are you ok?"

"Err... Yeah, I'm ok, why?"

But his break was short-lived. When he turned around to lie on his back, he realized Bob was right next to him, holding him in place, his long fingers sliding down his belly. He looked away, trying as best as he could to keep his voice steady over the phone, but the bastard did not seem willing to help.

"I was just worried... You know, after I dropped you off in Shelbyville yesterday."

"No, I'm-" Bart held in a gasp, feeling Bob's hand on his crotch, crawling fingers sliding up his erection. "-fine. I... got home j-just fine, no worries."

"You did? 'Cause Lisa called me earlier and asked me where you spent the night."

He groaned. He just couldn't catch a break with his friend's line of questioning, and his tormentor probably enjoying the hell out of his delicate situation.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Milhouse insisted. "You're breathing weird..."

Bart bit his lower lip. He was certain Bob would be laughing his ass off if he wasn't too busy persecuting him with pleasure.

"Yeah, I've been... running," he replied simply, turning his head to send Bob a murderous glare. The man was happily toying with him, masturbating him and fondling his thigh with smug delight.

"Oh. So, where are you?"

Bart drew a complete blank. He had no idea what to tell Milhouse, and he didn't have the capacity at that moment to think up an excuse. He looked at Bob hopelessly, desperate for help.

"With your ex," the former sideshow mouthed to him.

"Bart?"

"I'm... with Angela..."

The line went silent for a few seconds, before Milhouse started laughing triumphantly.

"I knew it would work! You see?" He cheered, obviously happy with himself. "Man, that's awesome, I'm so glad you two got back together!"

"Yeah, well, I'm with... her right now, can I- can I call you back later?"

"Oh, of course," he giggled. "Take your time."

Bart hung up quickly and threw the phone next to him on the bed.

"You motherfucker..." He spat, dropping his head down on the pillow, relieved that the awkwardness was finally over.

Bob slithered back on top of him with a satisfied smile. "Resorting to crude insults... How petty, even for you."

"I hope that was entertaining," he snarled, glaring at him. "I'm never picking up the phone with you around."

"Very entertaining, indeed. Now, hush. No more words, you need just moan for me," he purred, grabbing his face and plunging in for a kiss.

Lying on his back, Bart was lost in the kiss. It seemed he couldn't get enough of his attention; it was like Bob could turn from cruel to loving in a second as easily as he could sing an operetta. He was slow and affectionate, stroking his face and his neck slowly but firmly, yet Bart felt him part his thighs with one leg, then hold his lower limbs down with his knees. His arms still free, he tried to reach up to touch his shoulders, but the redhead pulled away, grabbed his left wrist, then his right and pinned them hard above his head with one hand. Bart couldn't move, he was properly trapped, much to his delight.

"I suppose you've earned it," Bob murmured, their faces barely touching.

Bart gasped, the erect cock pushing at his entrance with no other warning, and his open mouth was quickly taken advantage of by Bob's tongue. He groaned into the kiss, overpowered by the man on top of him. It didn't hurt quite as much as the previous night, but the pleasure was all the same. Bart was still overwhelmed - this time he couldn't breathe as easily, as Bob was restricting his air intake. The result was an intense experience of head swimming, being held into place, and getting all the pleasure where he wanted. This time it was Bart who pulled away panting when the other man started jerking him off between them, expertly stroking the dick that was craving attention from him. He moaned and whined, knowing in advance he wouldn't last very long in Bob's care.

"Very good, Bart. Let me hear you," he drawled, encouraging him.

Bob kept pounding, his eyes locked with Bart's, the young man trying to catch his breath with each thrust while sustaining his stare, the gold halos in his eyes shimmering with the sunlight. He kept on moaning loudly, unrestrained, not caring how ridiculous and helpless he sounded. It was too much, his legs were shaking underneath his, he desperately needed release.

"P-please, Bob... Pleeaase..."

As Bob surely planned, both men came simultaneously, and Bart covered the fondling hand with spurting cum while his hole was being filled. All his muscles relaxed at the same time, once again feeling like a ragdoll under his embrace. He could doze right off, safe under his body.

"Now, now... Don't fall back asleep," Bob said, pulling away and getting up from the bed, leaving him to lie there.

"I wasn't going to..."

Bart turned his head to see the other man grab a purple bathrobe from a drawer and watched him put it on. For some reason, the fact that Bob was now naked under it made him even more attractive than without any clothes on. He may have been blushing, leering at the redhead in such a way, but he didn't care anymore.

Tying his bathrobe belt around his waist, Bob noticed something on the floor next to the pile of clothes and walked over to pick it up.

"You've kept this?" He asked with a little smile, presenting the lighter that had been in Bart's jeans pocket.

"Well, a lighter's always useful, isn't it?" He replied on the defensive.

"I'm surprised you still have it, considering it was almost empty when I gave it to you."

Now Bart was sure he was blushing. "I... just kept it on me while you were gone." Bob looked like he was suppressing his laughter. "Shut up!"

"Oh, you're priceless. Forgive me, Bart. I never realized you were the sentimental type," he teased, then offered his hand to help him get up from his sprawled out position.

"I'm not! I just kept it, it doesn't mean jack shit." Bart took his hand and was hoisted fast, only to be pulled into Bob's embrace, his arms keeping him close.

"I hope this week-end is living up to your expectations," Bob crooned, his deep voice caressing his ears.

The young man pouted. He couldn't lie to him. "...Yeah."

"Feel free to make yourself at home... within the realm of basic decency" he quickly added before letting him go.

"Yup, basic decency, that's what we do." Bart snickered. He snatched his clothes from off the floor and started putting them on to at least feel on the same level, when Bob interrupted.

"Wait, Bart. I'll draw you a bath. Follow me."

.

Bob's bathroom was clean. Cleaner than Bart had even seen the one they had at home. He could just imagine Bob's lanky figure angrily scrubbing every last tile and every last corner until the entire room started emitting light and he was satisfied. Sitting in the bathtub while it was being filled, he looked around him and grabbed a fancy-looking bottle of shampoo. Of course Bob would use some expensive brand to groom his hair; he was vain like that, Bart thought with a smirk before putting the bottle back in its place. He turned off the tap when the water reached an acceptable level and rested his back against the ceramic, sighed heavily, and closed his eyes.

It had been his strangest 'sleepover'. The strangest few weeks, even, more than enough time to question his sexuality. But this time he wouldn't let his doubts and thoughts pester him in a silent introspection. He had fully accepted his situation with Sideshow Bob, and now he was simply relaxing and savoring the rest of his week-end at his place. He grabbed a nearby washcloth and slapped it over his eyes, then let his arms hang over the edges of the bathtub. He now felt like he was in a spa, in steamy water in a spacious tub. He could even fall asleep right then and there, without a worry in the world.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps running up the stairs. He picked up the cloth and opened his eyes, wondering what the commotion was about, but his jaw dropped when the door was burst wide open and he recognized who was in the doorway.

"Lisa?"

He could never catch a break.