Thank you so much to everyone reading this! I hope you enjoyed reading this fic as much as I did writing it. I'm sad to end it, but here you go, the final chapter! I wish you all much love and a happy life! Cheers -

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Bart was trapped. There was no escape this time, after years of playing cat and mouse. How degrading, even for him. He was his nemesis's little prisoner, to do with as he pleased before getting bored and ending his life in one proper stabbing.

Bob brought the shiny dagger to his face and gazed at it, almost in a trance, then proceeded to lick the blood off the blade. An image that was downright terrifying in his captive's frightened eyes. "Your blood tastes exquisite, Bart," he complimented quietly.

"Please, Bob, I'll do whatever you want," he pleaded with a shaky voice, struggling to move.

"This is exactly what I want," Bob explained calmly as he ran the point of the knife on the younger one's chest, up to his throat, and lingered there, threatening to dig into his carotid artery. Bart let out a small, very ambiguous cry, barely audible among his panting. This drew the sadist's attention to his crotch and he raised a mocking eyebrow. "An erection? Now this is getting interesting." He turned back to look at Bart with an malevolent smile. "You must be quite disturbed to be turned on by this."

"Fine, I'll do anything. I'll- I'll... I'll even suck your dick, please," he begged, desperate for a way out, any way out.

The criminal sighed, completely indifferent to the outrageous proposition. "Somehow, I doubt it will be better than killing you right now... Give me one reason."

"I'll... make it worth it. I'm pretty good, I swear."

Bob pondered his offer, eyeing his eager body, and relented. "Very well, I shall take your word for it. Get down on your knees."

After being released, Bart stumbled to his feet and kneeled in front of him. Much to his surprise, Bob was somewhat hard already, that damned pervert.

"Now, please me, like your life depends on it. Because it does."

He only had one shot at this. He closed his eyes shut and took Bob's cock whole into his mouth. Moving his head back and forth with his lips closed around the shaft, he even went so far as to gag loudly on purpose. He backed off for relief, longing to get back to business. He kissed the head, licked his balls, making a mess of saliva and pre-cum on Bob's genitals as he let out small whimpers. What an act he was making, barely exaggerated too, hoping it was enough for the madman. He was about to go all in once he could feel his cock throb against his tongue, when his head was pulled back and lifted up to look at the other man's face. He winced as he received a strand of cum on his face, and another as Bob was finishing himself off on him. An evil smile grew underneath his red locks.

"You're not worthless, after all. Why would I kill you when I can take advantage of you?"

Bart hastily wiped his face clean. "I can... I can do more for you, Bob, please." This time, he was not just pleading for his life, instead he was willing to do more for his own twisted pleasure. Bob tutted and shook his head in disapproval.

"Why don't you undress and turn around so I can find out if you're worth being left alive."

Bart got up and started taking his clothes off hesitantly under the leering eyes of the criminal, who didn't seem willing to undress himself. As soon as he was completely naked, he slowly turned around and was abruptly pushed onto the mattress with a surprised yelp. Bob lay down on his naked body, pressing down against his back and preventing his escape.

"You'd lower yourself to the most disgraceful debauchery to me, just to stay alive, wouldn't you?" he purred in his ear.

"Yes... Bob." Although Bart was doing his best to hide it, the other man most likely noticed the smile in his voice. He felt Bob's wet tongue run up his left temple until it reached the spikes of his hair. It was strangely loving, an odd contrast to the immoral acts exacted upon him.

"You would even let me take a bite off that brain..." Bob hissed darkly above him as he closed his fingers around the blond hair, tearing a few strands off. Bart bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes on the pricking tears. He pushed himself up slightly so that he would have room to breathe as the bliss was becoming overwhelming. His thighs began shaking, his erection was starting to hurt. He wouldn't last much longer.

"God, fuck me, fuck me now..."

"Oh, you..." Bob groaned and grabbed his shoulder to turn him around on the large bed. Now that Bart was on his back, completely exposed underneath him, he took a moment to admire his naked body, enjoying the view. "You're so impatient, Bartholomew," he lectured with a malicious smile.

"And you're... too fucking good at this," he panted before wrapping his arms around Bob's neck and slipping his tongue into his mouth. Their hips were grinding together, bare skin against shirt, as passion overrode their little act. Soon enough the wait was too much to bear and Bob took hold of his hips. He slipped his craving cock inside Bart, all the while masturbating the demanding brat between them. Bart pulled away, eyes almost revulsed as his body arched up. The intense foreplay was still hitting hard on him and he didn't last as long as he'd wished. He moaned loudly inside the otherwise empty house, the plain ceiling sparkling with the flashing stars in his eyes.

"How do you always outdo yourself, everytime?" Bart panted as he turned his head toward his lover. Bob was reaching into his bedside table and pulled out a small box that he put down on the bed.

"Let's just say you inspire me to, dear," he said with an affectionate smile.

"Or you're just too fucking happy it's my first entire day with you, maybe?"

"That, too," he admitted as he grabbed a small bottle and moist wipes from the box and took hold of Bart's arm. Dried blood was cleaned up in one swift motion, and the blond watched, docile, as he was being tended to.

"Yeah, no one's gonna interrupt you and your little toy today, huh?" Bart teased.

"You stopped being just a toy a while ago," he replied softly. Bart stared at him as he was spraying disinfectant on the wound on his arm, a bandaid ready nearby on the stained sheets. Bob looked so much different than he did a few minutes ago during their roleplay, so peaceful and loving by his side, taking good care of him. He enjoyed this previously-unknown side of him so much, sometimes he got lost in admiration and infatuation, realizing how lucky he actually was.

"Why are you even with me?" he blurted out.

Bob looked up from his tending, his expression stern. He might have been expecting that question, and Bart was certainly fearing his answer. "I could ask you the same question."

"Not really, you're way out of my league."

"Oh, don't you start with that nonsense, Bart," he replied curtly.

"I'm serious, though. You're handsome, you're smart, you have a high-paying job, a house..." he stopped upon hearing Bob scoff.

"And you are intelligent, lively, young... How do you think I felt when you met your ex-girlfriend last time?"

"Are you shitting me?" he snapped back. "You spent weeks with your ex-wife! How do you think I felt?"

Bob carefully applied the bandaid on his wound and took hold of his hand, brought it to his lips and planted a kiss. He smiled, a genuine smile despite the anger thrown at him. Bart blushed, taken aback by the sudden sweet gesture, but his lover's smile soon faded. "Do you plan to tell your parents about us, eventually?" Bob asked quietly.

Bart didn't know what to say. He didn't know the answer to that question. For a second he wondered if that was his revenge for his own offensive question, or perhaps even some form of answer to it. He started to think it over, but no matter what he imagined, telling his parents or not, their relationship somehow always ended up in disaster. He groaned and put the pillow over his head. "I dunno! Ugh, I dunno..."

He felt Bob rub his hand tenderly, and heard a very light sigh coming from him. "Very well, I won't push the matter further."

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"I see what you're doing, there, you sneaky little opportunist!" Sarah called out after her colleague when he rushed to the side door that afternoon. "Waiting on him to take your break, huh?"

Bart briefly turned around to give her a shit-eating grin. "Hey, I'm legally required to take one, aren't I?"

Bob welcomed him as soon as he took a step outside, the way he knew how. It had become a recurring ritual of theirs, to meet during their time off work, to talk or enjoy the other's presence through discreet physical entertainment.

"How has your day been?" Bob asked after greeting him with a kiss.

The younger one licked his lips and shrugged. "Meh. I was waiting for someone to finally show up, how about you?"

"A long day. I've been looking forward to visiting my favorite café."

"I, uh, I packed my bag, for tonight, if you don't mind..." he began hesitantly, but the redhead gave him a short laugh.

"Why do you think I gave you a key?"

"I dunno, to help myself to your fridge?" Bart joked. Feeling naughty, he decided to take charge and pushed Bob against the opposite wall before reaching up for his lips. A welcome surprise for the older man who responded in kind, and started stroking the back of his head to pull him closer.

A shrill scream suddenly bounced off the narrow walls of the alley. They both turned their heads in surprise, and were completely stunned when they recognized the origin of the commotion. They simultaneously agreed to pull away to avoid being discovered, though they both knew it was too late.

Marge Simpson, with her raspy voice and wide eyes, was standing beside her equally dumbfounded husband.

"What the?" Homer sputtered, his eyes darting from one man to the other.

"Get away from my son! What is happening? Bart! Are you alright?"

Both parents looked utterly confused, as well as horrified, as they were trying to comprehend what they had just stumbled upon. Their son was downright mortified, while the man who had tried to kill him countless times was standing next to him with his arms outstretched, to show he was harmless. Bart was at a loss - this was somehow much worse than when Lisa found them out. His mother was glaring at the man once known as Sideshow Bob, probably thinking the worst of the worst, and he couldn't even blame her for that. His mind racing, he knew he had to say something before Homer came to punch the ex-convict in the face.

"Mom! Homer! It's alright, Bob is just a customer! And he... We uhm- Bob is-"

"Marge..." Bob stepped in tentatively in a smooth tone. "Allow me to explain. Bart and I were-"

"I don't believe you! I saw you kiss him! Step away from him this instant, you- you-" Marge screamed with an accusing finger pointing directly at him. With her current posture, Bart could very well imagine that if she had a gun, she would be pointing it straight at Bob's head. He noticed the man he loved take a careful step to the side in sign of good faith, and seeing him distance himself somehow hurt him, like he was slipping away from him. And given the situation they were in, his overactive imagination pictured him accused of the worst and ending up back behind bars for life, or even worst still. He had to intervene.

"Wait, Mom-" he began, but Marge was looking far from understanding at this moment.

"And you too, young man. The lady inside told me you were with your boyfriend. Can you explain to me what you're doing, here?"

He threw Bob a desperate glance, but he too seemed at a loss. "This was bound to happen, Bart. You know that," he said quietly as he rested his back onto the opposite wall.

"Fine!" he relented angrily and turned back to his parents. "First of all, I kissed him, not the other way around."

"But that's Sideshow Bob..." Homer said in a high-pitched voice. "Shouldn't you hate him? He wants to kill you, why are you two-"

"Yeah. Like I've been trying to explain, Bob's a customer here. We just ended up together, that's all. Call Lisa, she's known about us for weeks, now."

"Together?" Marge asked, appalled. "Lisa? Lisa knows?"

"You've been with him for weeks?" Homer added, pointing at the former sideshow who kept to himself, his arms crossed on the defensive. Bob seemed reluctant to intervene for once, though Bart understood. With the shock, his parents wouldn't be willing to listen to their son's attempted murderer.

"I told you I liked guys, and you were okay with that!" he explained heatedly, trying to put his parents on the spot. "Well, Bob is the guy, what's the big deal?"

"Any man would have been fine! We didn't expect you to like Sideshow Bob of all people!" Marge retorted, turning to the man in question. "What have you done to him? What are you trying to do with him?" At this instant, Bart's mother looked scary, as any mother would if presented with the same situation. Bob, glaring darkly at his parents, was about to respond but Bart cut him off.

"So fucking sorry I couldn't get a normal boyfriend! And he hasn't done anything bad, Mom, we've been seeing eachother for months! Don't you think I'd be dead, by now? You know what, I don't care what you guys think, alright? You can disown me for all I care, it's not like there was much to get anyway." This angry rant caused an uncomfortable silence among the small group of people in the alley next to the café. Bart awaited a reaction from his parents, but all they did was stare in disbelief.

"Bart, please..." the man accused of many untold things walked up behind him and put his hands on his shoulders. Bart turned his head and breathed deeply, trying to calm his panic and anger. "Mrs Simpson. Mr Simpson. I know there's no convincing you of my good intentions, but I beg you to trust in your son's judgement."

Marge stared apathetically at the unusual pair. There was no telling what she was even thinking. "I need to call your sister..." she said before walking away with her phone in her hand and turning around the corner. Homer stayed behind to give Bob a weird glare, one of mistrust and confusion.

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"Lisa! Do you know anything about Sideshow Bob and Bart?" she asked her daughter in panic, not caring if she interrupted her in her study. She was walking back and forth on the street, some distance away from her son, trusting that her husband would keep him safe in the meantime.

After a second of shocked silence on the line, Lisa answered in a shaky voice. "Uh... In what way, do you mean?"

"We caught them snuggling and kissing right next to his café! And Bart said you knew about that?"

"Oh my god..." she replied quietly before a long silence filled with hesitation. She needed to explain the situation as delicately and as cautiously as she could, or else Bart might blame her for ruining his relationship, and she didn't want that. "Yes, I... I know about them, I know they're together. Look, Mom... I was reticent at first, too, but I've talked with them. I had a real discussion, and... Bob really has changed, and Bart loves him. I can't do anything to change that, and I don't think you can, either."

"But this is senseless! Why Bob? He's a murderer!"

"Well, Mom, he's never actually killed anyone," she replied with an awkward giggle. "...Anyway, there's nothing illegal about them. Bart's an adult, he can date whoever he wants, and I believe he's safe with Bob. Really, he's gonna be alright, Mom."

"B-but, Lisa, I'm surprised by your reaction to that... You know Bob can be... Well, dangerous and..."

"I know it's hard to understand, Mom, but Bart is happy. Please, if you could just... wait it out, you'll see. Just... Don't ruin it for them, okay?"

Marge stayed silent over the phone, mulling over her daughter's advice. "Okay, sweetie. I... I'll try," she eventually said, unconvinced.

"Thank you... Also, don't let Dad punch Bob in the face."

"Oh my god, Homer!" she hastily hung up and rushed back to the alley.

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"Aren't you old enough to be Bart's father?" Homer asked with narrowed eyes. An odd question given the situation, but seeing the disgust on his face, Bart guessed it was the first thing that came up in his father's mind when he realized they were together.

And to that fact there was no objection, and the only answer was something Bart was still afraid to acknowledge.

"I suppose that's true," Bob admitted from behind him, his grip tightening slightly on his shoulders.

"I'm twenty-two, Homer. It's not like I'm still a kid, you know. There's nothing wrong about that."

Homer took slow steps toward the couple. Bart instinctively shielded the man behind him, but his father stopped before he could do more than glare at him.

"I'm glad I'm not you, Bob," he sighed, much to their surprise. "You're gonna have a lot of trouble with this one, if Marge doesn't kill you first. You don't know what she's capable of for her kids."

"Oh, I do have an idea, yes," Bob murmured uncomfortably. Bart couldn't see his face, but he could very well imagine him, usually so confident and pompous, worried about a raging mother. Priceless, and it would have cracked him up, if their relationship hadn't been on the line for that very reason.

Marge returned after a few minutes, her brows unfurrowed but her forehead anxious. She joined her husband in front of her son and sighed in defeat. "So, Bart... There's no changing your mind, you two are...?"

"Yeah, we are," Bart replied bluntly.

She closed her eyes, trying her best to contain her reaction. "Bart, I need to know. Are you happy... with him?" she asked with a neutral gesture toward the former criminal behind him.

"Yeah, Mom. I am."

"Okay..." she replied, her voice more raspy than usual as she looked at all three men before her. "Okay, Homie, let's go."

"B-but, are we leaving Bart here?"

Marge stared at her eldest child and the man who used to cause him sleepless nights. She was trying to see him in a different light, but it would take time, for now it seemed impossible. "Yes. Bart is safe. You are, Bart, do you promise me?"

"Of course. I promise you, Mom, I'm good," he assured her, relieved but baffled.

She turned her gaze to Bob. He still had his hands on her son's shoulders, which she visibly didn't approve of, but she didn't mention it. "This is so strange to say, but... Sidesh- I mean, Bob, don't you dare hurt him." Her voice started shaking, out of anger or fear, who knew, she didn't let anything else on. "I'll be watching you. Step out of line, try anything, and I'll show you what a mother can do for her child, even when he's grown up."

"Well understood," Bob replied stiffly.

"I love you, sweetie."

"Love you too, Mom."

Marge gave him one last small smile, tinted with endless concern, before turning around, followed by her husband who still looked lost but trusted her judgement above anything else. The new couple was left behind in the narrow alley, bewildered after their departure.

"What the hell just happened?" Bart asked once he heard his parents' car go off nearby.

Bob let go of him and walked by his side, equally shocked. "I believe your sister made our case."

"What do you mean?"

"Your mother called Lisa, and I think... she defended me."

Bart was amazed. As it turned out, pouring his heart out to his sister about Bob had been worth it, and he promised himself to thank her later. He sighed heavily, light a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulder. He turned to Bob, who looked just as relieved that the delicate interaction was over. "Do I still get to crash at your place, tonight?"

"That's a silly question."

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Bart caught Bob's eyes in the bathroom mirror. He grinned widely while brushing his teeth, the other man lying in the large bed in the other room returning his smile.

"My mom called, by the way," he said with his mouth full of toothpaste. His mother might have seemed accepting of their situation, albeit reluctantly, she couldn't help but worry. Just like his father, sister, and best friend, they all tried their best to see the good in his relationship but couldn't contain their concerns.

"So?" Bob asked anxiously.

"She asked me if everything was okay with you. So, of course, I didn't tell her what you did to me last night."

"That is for the best." Bob gave him a little laugh and continued ogling him, his body, and his face in the mirror. "You'll have to consider moving in, after a while, my dear," he added, making Bart's eyes widen.

"H-huh? Move in?" he asked after spitting in the sink and glancing at Bob's reflection.

"Don't play dumb with me. Don't you see what you're doing?"

Bart followed his gaze and looked down at himself. He was wearing his usual pajamas, and his toothbrush was readily available in Bob's bathroom. He hadn't been sleeping in his apartment for the whole week, the key to the house being at his disposal whenever he wanted. He turned around, expecting to see a mocking grin on Bob's face ; instead his lover was staring right back at him without the hint of a smile. He walked toward him to join him in the bed, many doubts pestering him on the way.

"Heh, that would save me some money on rent, for sure." That little joke didn't seem to get to Bob who simply kept his eyes on him as he slid under the covers. "Don't you think it's gonna look weird for us to live together?" he asked carefully, trying to make it sound silly, but deep down longing for the idea. "Even if no one knows what we were about before, like, you're old enough to-"

He was abruptly cut off when Bob grabbed him and pinned his arms down onto the mattress. Bart gasped quietly, realizing there was no hint of sexual anticipation from his part. Instead, the redhead looked almost resentful.

"Listen. Bart. I am with you DESPITE the age difference. I am with you DESPITE public opinion, and that of your family. I am with you despite and thanks to our shared destructive past. It is no one else's business but ours. I am with you because I know you, because I love who you are and who you will become, and because you warm my heart everytime I see you. I only hope you share the same sentiment."

The young man's heart was filled with all sorts of emotions, one of them being guilt. Now he couldn't even find anything to say to be on the same level as him. "Yeah."

"All I want is for you to be happy, hopefully with me."

"M- me too. I want to be with you. I'm... I just don't want it to end suddenly because..."

"Because it doesn't look right?" he asked cynically.

"Yeah? I mean, no, but..." he mumbled, stumbling on his words. He didn't know what to answer, especially now that Bob had made it sound so silly and ridiculous.

"Just say yes, please," he said in a lighter tone.

Bart took a deep breath. There was no changing Bob's mind, he was deadset on ignoring the rest of the world and all tacit rules. What reason would he have to follow them, then? He exhaled slowly under Bob's expectant gaze. "So, I have a choice between living alone in my shitty apartment, or living in your house with you. Sure, why not," he shrugged casually. "Just for you, Bob."

The sadist had never been so sweet and affectionate during sex. Short kisses, looking fondly down at him as he pounded inside of him, caressing his body with an affectionate touch. Bart could see it all. He could picture quiet nights in his company, waking up next to him every morning, living a life with him. He imagined all the thrilling so-called attempts on his life, and the caring that came with it. The next days, weeks, months. He was looking forward to it all, with Bob by his side.

For once it didn't seem so bad, living with someone, one who could show him endless thrills, someone he had a deep, special connection with. Of all the 'wrong' choices he'd ever made, this one had been the best. Bart was a daredevil at heart, an underachieving adventurer expecting boring old life to keep him on his toes, and as he reached climax, he knew for sure Bob was the only one to make him soar to unbelievable heights.

In his arms after his orgasm, it all seemed so simple.

"Are you still worried about the future?" his ex-nemesis asked softly. He was lying on top of him, shielding him from the world, his fingers combing through his spiky hair.

"No."

"Perfect," he concluded with a kiss on his forehead.

Bart responded with a kiss on his lips, slow and soft. "I love you, Bob."

"I love you too, Bart."