The bedroom was fairly bare, with a few boxes still lying around as Bart had been busy with unpacking. He had yet to take out all his Krusty merchandise, childhood toys and decorations that lay dormant in packages and bags. A relief for the clown's former assistant, as he didn't have to see his overly-cheerful insufferable face everywhere.

Bob was staring at the bedroom ceiling, fully satisfied by his lovemaking session with Bart. His old enemy was resting in his arms, eyes closed, utterly relaxed with him on his bed, in his new apartment. Amazing, given the fear he had struck into his heart earlier, but it only seemed to make Bart even more passionate everytime. He ran his hand through his spiky blond hair, soft between his long fingers, and glanced at the nightstand where the knife still lay. Years ago he would have been positively thrilled to find himself in this very situation, ready to slit the boy's throat at his most vulnerable. How easy it would be, in truth. He shook his head. No. All it was now was a mere intrusive thought that no longer did anything for him. His only desire now was to live his life as an honest man, occasionally going for Bart when either one of them needed it. His only desire...

He became aware that Bart was breathing deeply at a slow pace, falling asleep in his arms. He delicately grabbed the wrist that was resting on his stomach to put it aside, and silently got up to his feet, as he did last time in Bart's childhood house. Their clothes were piled together on the floor after getting thrown away earlier, in the way of their carnal appetites. Bob pondered if he should dress up and go home, now that their private activity was over. But he had no reason to leave this time, they were all alone here.

He gazed upon the sleeping figure. Bart was sprawled lazily on the mattress, naked but half-covered by the tangled sheet. He hated to admit it to himself, but at that moment his heart melted. Bart's chest was rising and falling peacefully, his messy hair falling on his eyes, his lips parted slightly as he slept soundly. He almost looked like he was beckoning him to join him. How could he leave such a beautiful creature to himself, a voice in the back of his mind asked.

With a sigh, he turned off the bedroom light and slithered back under the cover. He slid a hand underneath Bart's back to pull his body closer, careful not to wake him up.

"Bob..." Bart breathed out. Bob cursed himself, he hadn't been careful enough.

"Yes?" he answered quietly.

"Ugh, you know..." the young man replied in an irritated voice.

He frowned in confusion at the strange answer. "What do I know?"

Bart groaned and turned his back to him. "Don't make me say it..."

"Make you say... what?" He insisted, his heart thumping in his ribcage as he feared the worst with the sudden change in behavior.

"That I... I love you... I think..."

Bob froze, his mouth agape as he stared at the silhouette next to him. The words resonated within him like a clap of thunder, and although they were echoing relentlessly in his head all he could actually hear was the light snoring coming from his former arch-enemy. He wondered if Bart had even woken up at all, or if he had merely been talking in his sleep. But his words were directed toward him, and him only.

"What did you say, Bart?" He asked in disbelief.

"Nevermind, forget it," he mumbled, barely comprehensible.

Bob could simply stare at him, at a loss for words. He wanted Bart to be his. Of course, he always had, for as long as they knew eachother, but even for these past weeks, he had desired him in a starkly different way. Physical possessiveness, then lust. He had to wonder how Bart felt, he knew he should have before but he never wanted to reflect upon it. He had merely deemed it 'unimportant', since they both found enjoyment in their affair.

It was better to just leave. Surely Bart hadn't realized what he'd just said, he probably wouldn't remember. Bob himself could forget it all and they would resume like nothing had happened.

Robert was many things, but he wasn't a coward. He turned to lie on his back, eyes wide open, listening to the other one breathing. It took a while for him to join Bart in his slumber. Everything was bouncing around at full speed in his head. Bart's words, their relationship, his own anger whenever he saw Bart with someone else. He grumbled and settled his head on the pillow, organizing his thoughts to try and make sense of it all.

Bart deserved more.

.

Bob woke up to a strange but exquisite feeling in his crotch. His eyes flew open and he sat up, clutching whatever was happening to him. The hair of one Bart Simpson was pulled backwards, a wide grin plastered on his face. He was both surprised and relieved, but his fingers did not let go.

"You never waste any time, do you?"

"It's not my fault," he chuckled, his mouth right above his erection. "You were lying there naked, how could I resist? And it worked, I got you hard..."

He resumed his position for a blowjob, but was stopped in his track by a hand to his forehead. Bob knew how to talk to him. He knew he enjoyed being submissive to him, and when he was in that state, anything he said was sure to take him far away to some distant wonderland.

"Stop," he ordered sternly. Bart froze and his smile faltered. "Get on me."

The blonde bit his lower lip, which looked quite tantalizing, and did as told, sitting awkwardly right above his crotch. He started indulging himself shamelessly, rubbing his butthole against Bob's hardness, instauring his own rhythm. He gazed down at him, eyes unfocused, lost in his own pleasure.

Bob ran his hands up Bart's belly, skin smooth under his fingers. A sigh left his lips – he was reveling in having him all to himself.

"Do you feel big, sitting on top of me?" he started chiding. "My dear, sweet Bart... You can't fool me. You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you? My precious little lustful thing, you can never get enough of it, can you?"

"Y-yes, Bob..." Bart whined pathetically at the words and grabbed Bob's hands to bring them up to his hips. The older man grabbed him tightly and twisted his waist painfully, much to his delight.

How could that young pervert longing for his touch think he was in love?

And how could Bob miss all of him whenever he wasn't there?

Bart's back-and-forth pattern proved effective as they both attained a frustrated state of arousal. He reached a hand down and started rubbing his erect penis, slowly but thoroughly, knowing exactly how to have him writhe above him. He used his other hand to handle his asscheek, guiding him onto his own cock to start indulging himself inside of him. Bart gasped loudly and threw his head backward, revealing his neck which Bob would gladly bite into if he could reach it in his position.

Bart didn't last long, his lovely moans accompanied the come spurting out into the hand fondling him. Bob brought his semen-coated fingers to Bart's lips. He lapped happily, sucking and having a taste of his own cum as he rolled his hips on him.

The look in his eyes... Bob felt his own climax rush inside his body ; he clasped his hands on Bart's ass and dug his nails into the skin, probably leaving clawmarks that will take some time to heal.

Coming inside Bart felt insanely sweet. It always did. Seeing him lie down satisfied next to him after having brought him to ecstasy felt even better. He was looking back at him with enamored blue eyes, a genuine smile, his body limp as always after being handled. Bob's heart was caught in his throat and his thoughts became akin to white noise.

Despite what it seemed from the outside, this was no longer purely sexual, Bob was sure of it.

Bob blinked and snapped out of his trance. He sat up and proceeded to take hold of Bart's foot. His young partner looked surprised and suspicious at first, but he simply ignored him and started rubbing decidedly. He pressed strategically on his sole and watched him as he eventually closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Bart was relaxing and enjoying the sweet gesture.

"Do you... remember anything from last night?" Bob asked cautiously. "Besides the obvious, I mean."

"Last night?" Bart thought for a moment. "No, what did we do?"

"Oh, we didn't do anything more, don't worry," he assured him.

"Wait, did I say something stupid in my sleep?"

Bob glanced at him. Bart was giggling slightly, not really serious. Judging from his reaction, it was an odd guess, he did not remember. A good thing, perhaps.

"No, no," he answered. He didn't lie. Nothing stupid was uttered that night.

Bob kept on massaging his foot – for once a gentle gesture that held no hidden intentions besides kindness. They both took in the moment as the rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds. An idea started forming in his mind, perhaps a silly one.

"By the way," the blonde cut off his train of thoughts, "just because I have my own place now doesn't mean I'll stop crashing at yours."

Bob laughed lightly. "Don't think for one second that you're no longer welcome in my house."

Bart contracted and stretched his toes uncomfortably under his hand and a sigh escaped his mouth.

"I'm getting hard again..."

"Come now, I'm merely being affectionate..." Bob leaned in to meet Bart's mouth and kissed him softly, before getting up from the bed to pick up his clothes. "I'm leaving for now, but I'll be back in an hour or so. Take a bath and choose some nice clothing, please."

"Wh-what? Why?" he asked, confused after being left cold. "What are we doing?"

"I'm taking you someplace nice."