The orange hues of the sky were slowly turning blue, later and later with each spring day as light jackets were put away on the ground, too warm for the season. The eldest Simpson sibling took a chug of his beer, watching the entire town of Springfield, whatever state, from the hill on the outskirts of the town. It had become a favorite spot for his blue-haired friend and him, a quiet place above everyone else to talk about girls, school, homework, then later work and future plans. For once in years, though, Bart had much to discuss with his best friend, and that moment was a nice callback to a time before he sank deep into what must have been depression.

"See those blocks in downtown Shelbyville?" He explained as he pointed beyond their hometown to the rival city. "My apartment's gonna be in one of them."

"Awesome," Milhouse grinned. "I know a few good spots there to have a drink."

"Heh, remember the old feud between Shelbyville and Springfield?" Bart added, seeing the two towns right next to eachother as though they formed a single, larger one.

"Yeah, good times... Kinda glad we're over that, though, I've got clients in Shelbyville."

"I miss the good old times," he started reminiscing. "Well, for the most part. I don't miss school one bit."

"I miss it sometimes," Milhouse replied in a snarky tone.

"Yeah, but you're kind of a nerd," he joked, earning a bitter look from his friend.

"Maybe I am, it got me through school alright." When he noticed Bart sulk, he decided to quickly change the subject. "Anyway, you should be excited, you're getting your own place soon!"

"Yeah, finally... At least, I beat Lisa to independency," he celebrated, raising his beer. "I'll be free to do whatever I want, eat whatever I want, make up my own rules, all that jazz..."

"And you can bring girls over no problem- Well, I mean... If you're single."

Bart didn't answer, he preferred to act as though he didn't catch on to his friend's hint, it was easier. He didn't really consider himself single these days. But he didn't want to ponder about the nature of his current relationship he didn't fully understand, either. There was a status quo he liked to think he was comfortable with.

"So, how are things going with him... You know, Bob?"

He threw him an amused glance ; the fact that Milhouse was walking on eggshells with that particular subject was hilarious to him. "It's going great, he gave me his phone number and stuff."

Milhouse waited a moment, but was obviously dying to know more. "So are you actually dating him, or...?"

Bart let out a laugh. That word sounded so weird when talking about his relationship with Bob, he didn't know if it could even be applied. "Well, I mean there's all the intense sex where he... Err, I'll spare you the details..."

"Please," he replied sheepishly.

"But he's also... considerate, if that's the right word. It's like he always tries to be careful with me. Maybe he's afraid I'm gonna be scared of him again, or something. He even convinced me I was good enough for my job, you know." A smile found its way on his lips as he took a sip of his beer and gazed absent-mindedly at Shelbyville. "And now that we're, uhm... intimate, it's like he wants to get my approval everytime he tries something new. He always looks at me with those eyes when he's worried about me. It's cute, you know."

Bart stopped. It was like his mouth always ran faster than his brain did. Milhouse was making a strange face, mildly shocked, as though he'd just heard a heartfelt confession about something horrible. But Bart was merely recalling Bob's expression that night in his room, fear and worry on his thin features, dark brown eyes slightly widened and shining. He did find him cute, if he had to be honest.

"Sorry, I still can't believe you're talking about Sideshow Bob that way, it kinda feels like a parallel universe."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I know he used to be crazy dangerous, but... I kinda got addicted to that. Sometimes it's so surreal I can't get enough."

"Erm... By the way, I was c-curious," Milhouse started hesitantly, hiding behind his bottle of beer. "How do I put it... Who... Does Bob... Or do you...?"

The blond blinked blankly at him, trying his hardest not to laugh at his awkward question. "Err, Bob's the one in charge."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, sorry, just curious..." Milhouse fumbled as he fixed his glasses.

"It's fine, Mil, jeez... Yeah, with Bob, that's how we roll, and it's perfect. Don't go around telling people I'm a bottom, though," he pleaded, giving Milhouse a fake punch for good measures.

"So, then, is it just sex... or do you..." he began again, infuriatingly slowly.

"What, already? Just finish your sentences, man!"

"Do you love him?"

Bart shrugged dismissively and laughed the question off. It had never been about love between him and Bob, it probably never even crossed the former criminal's mind. Had it ever crossed his own? He never wanted to stop and think about it too much. Sex was simple, there was no question about it, no matter how fucked up it seemed from the outside. But with the way their relationship was going, Bart wondered how far things between them could actually get. Taking a long sip, he decided to do as he'd always done – go with the flow, not worry about consequences. He briefly wondered how their meeting would have gone if he had run into Bob under any other circumstances, especially when he was younger. That was probably the reason why he decided to start his new life in the next town over, not to accidentally run into him and risk falling back into a life of crime.

Noticing his friend's insistent stare, he knew he had to answer something. "No, it's... nothing like that. We- we just hang out and do our thing, that's all," he managed to answer, then downed the rest of his beer while looking out intently at the town below and hoping the answer was good enough. For Milhouse and for himself.

"Okay," his friend relented, with doubt in his voice. "Are you gonna tell your family about him, eventually?"

Bart scoffed, but didn't answer right away. With the way things were going between the two of them, they were bound to meet at his new place, probably when he didn't expect him at all. It was already a miracle in and of itself that his family, beside Lisa, hadn't bumped into the very much recognizable guy at the café. But if they all showed up unexpectedly for another visit... His stomach churned at the simple thought. They should prepare a story to tell them, just in case.

"I'm not gonna tell my mom I sleep with Sideshow Bob. Lisa knows already. She's more open-minded than anyone, and it still wasn't easy."

"Yeah, probably not, then," Milhouse concluded.

"Probably not." With a sigh, Bart got rid of his empty bottle and decided against opening a new one. "You taking me home?"

.

"You're on your own, today, it seems," Bob inquired after getting his usual afternoon drink.

"Yeah, Sarah took the day off. She said I'll do just fine, plus it's gonna be a slow day, so I'll be alright," Bart replied with confidence, having already gone through lunch break without going crazy.

"Of course you'll be alright," he smiled. "You've faced much worse, after all. It must be fulfilling to know your coworkers trust you."

"Yeah, well, you can't really tell, can you? You're the boss where you work at. Now that's fulfilling."

"It isn't exactly a walk in the park, either. Especially since you've come by for an unexpected visit. My employees were asking questions. Well done, you put me in quite a difficult position that day," the director accused, though he clearly wasn't being too serious.

"Yeah, you reap what you sow, Bob," he retorted. "Now you know how I feel everytime you show up here."

The man tilted his head with a grin, his curly hair almost falling in front of his eyes. "You just cannot wait to see me again in a more private setting, can you?"

"Yeah, well, pretty soon I'll be inviting you over."

Bob stopped with his cup in mid-air, a dubious expression on his face. He had all his attention. "What do you mean?"

"I'm gonna get my own place soon, so you're gonna have to move your own ass there if you want a piece of mine," he whispered with an evil smirk.

"Is that so?" Bob smiled widely and looked him up and down. Bart knew him by now, this was a horny smile. So many things must be going through his head, he would pay all his tips to experience all of them. "Consider me... eager for a visit."

"I'll be moving in in a few days. I'm gonna be busy with packing all my stuff, though, so... can't wait to be done with that." Bart leaned in slightly and lowered his voice. "Then you can come over and do whatever you want to me."

Bob looked around wildly and sighed. "Run along, Bart, you have other customers," he waved him off out of the blue. Bart walked away confused, but as soon as he glanced back toward him he understood. The redhead was sitting uncomfortably with his arms over his knees, covering up his crotch, and staring out the window. Bob was apparently not the only one to have the power to embarrass the other in a public space. Bart bit his bottom lip to stifle a laugh, reveling in his little victory, and went on to take care of his other customers.

"Hey, Bart," a female voice called out, causing him to turn on the spot in surprise.

"A-Angela? What's up? What are you doing here?"

His ex-girlfriend sat down at a table, looking a little bit awkward, but certainly not as much as the last time he'd seen her. "I just wanted to apologize for the party the other night. Really, I didn't know what it was about. Hope it didn't ruin your birthday," she said apologetically.

"No, no... Well, kinda, actually, but it wasn't your fault," he admitted bitterly. "I've talked with Milhouse, though. We're good."

"Okay," she sighed in relief.

They gladly went on to talk about his new job and their current relationships. He was excited to tell her, or anyone who would hear it for that matter, that he was getting his own place. They were both moving on with their lives, so talking with her wasn't as painful anymore, they were like two friends catching up. They joked around for a little while, given the lack of customers at this hour, when Angela's eyes widened as she looked beyond his shoulder. Bart turned back to find Bob standing right behind him, glaring all the hatred he had inside of him.

"What, exactly, is happening here?" he spat, stressing every syllable.

"Who the hell are you?" She asked defensively, ignoring the threatening tone of the taller man.

Bob was phased for a second but quickly regained his composure, sending daggers with his eyes. "I am... with Bart," he simply stated, taking a determined step closer to stand right beside him.

"Oh," she let out in surprise as she assessed him. "Oh, okay, I get it. I'm... his ex-girlfriend."

Now Bob was at a loss for words. It was a first for him, as far as Bart knew, and he was curious to see how he would get out of this tight spot. But being the only person in common between them, it only made sense that he'd break the unbearable silence.

"So, Bob, Angela... Angela, Bob," he awkwardly showed back and forth, trying to ignore the shocked expression on both their faces.

"Oh. I see," the redhead huffed in disdain. "I suppose I'm only interrupting, then."

"No, no, she was just telling me about her new boyfriend and all," Bart explained. He knew he had to defuse the situation, or else the bomb called Bob Terwilliger would explode in the middle of the place, and he did not want to see that.

"Why, of course she was," he derided with a short laugh of contempt.

"I was, actually. I'm still allowed to talk to Bart, as far as I know," Angela snapped back, much to Bart's dismay. He did not want an argument in the workplace, but knowing the two hot-headed persons, there wasn't much he could do to stop it.

"Don't worry, Bob," he assured him, his voice soft.

The other man looked right at him, with a slight frown on his face, which disappeared almost instantly. His expression softened and he could only sigh. "Fine, here," he told him as he slipped a bill into his hand. "I will see you tomorrow."

"Sorry about the scene," he said to Angela as he watched the redhead storm out of the café without so much as a glance back.

"Nah, it's fine. Makes sense he'd be jealous. If looks could kill..."

"Jealous?" Bart frowned, still staring at the door Bob had disappeared behind.

Angela giggled in spite of herself. "Yeah, I noticed the way he looked at you. He's totally jealous."

"I thought he was just being possessive, it's kind of our thing..." he mumbled, trying to make sense of her words.

"I thought he looked hurt, actually," she said, earning a puzzled look from Bart. "Well, I see you're in good hands. I'll see you around, Bart."

The young Simpson was left to stand in the middle of the near-empty café, still staring at that door that let the customers out. He was unquestionably excited about the near future - what he was certain about, and other not-as-certain things. He could only let out a laugh. They were both fools, weren't they.