Starlight Stories Rich and Love: Burns Song

Chapter 4: The Naked Personal Servant

Smithers sat in the waiting room of the emergency department of Springfield General Hospital, his head in his hands, still crying. A receptionist called to him: "Sir, please stop crying."

"You don't understand! No amount of comforting can fill this void. Mr. Burns is – dead, and it's all my fa-fault!" A round of applause erupted from others in the waiting room.

"No, I mean, 'You need to stop crying.' It's against the rules."

"You can shove that rule up your ass." His anger cut through the sorrow for a moment, but just as suddenly, it faded and his heart felt as though it were being crushed in a vise. "Oh, God, why not take me instead?"

A nurse entered the waiting room and looked at the clipboard in his hand. "Waylon Smithers? The doctor is ready to see you, now."

"I don't need a damn doctor; I need a miracle."

"You really need to be evaluated; some serious car accident injuries don't manifest themselves until it's too late."

"It doesn't matter. Life hardly even seems worth living without Mr. Burns."

"Whoa, hold on there. Mr. Burns isn't dead."

Smithers gasped and smiled. "I need to see him."

"You really need to get your injuries checked–"

"Not until I see him."

"Visitors aren't allowed yet."

"Please, I need to see him. He's my...the one I love."

"Okay," he relented. "Right this way."

Smithers followed him into a large, private room. Mr. Burns sat upright in his bed, sniffing into a nosegay. "Mr. Burns!" He ran up to him and took his hand, caressing it lovingly.

"Ah, Waylon, I'm so glad to see you. You would never have given me such awful-smelling flowers!" He threw them feebly onto the floor. "Smithers, crush them under your foot."

"Yes, sir," he said, gleefully twisting his foot over the crushed flowers, still holding onto Burns' hand.

"You get such a winsome smile when you're following my orders."

"Nothing pleases me more."

Mr. Burns reached his free hand to Smithers' shoulder and ran it up along his neck. "Is that so?" He dug his fingers into Smithers' shoulder, pulled himself upright, and kissed him. Smithers moaned very loudly in shock and ecstasy before returning the kiss, breathing heavily as he brought his other hand to the back of Burns' neck and pressed himself as deeply into him as he could. He leaned forward, sitting half-way on the edge of the hospital bed and gently pushing Mr. Burns back against the bed. Mr. Burns released him from the kiss, his chest heaving.

"Okay...that pleases me more." His eyes rolled back as he swooned and gasped shallowly. "So when you said you love me...you meant that?"

"Of course I do, Waylon. You make me feel like a trillionaire. And I actually know what that feels like."

He hugged him, his joyful tears plenteous. "You've just made me the happiest man in the world."

Burns cutely poked Smithers' nose and slid his finger up the bridge, pushing his glasses up, then leaned forward and kissed him again, this time letting his free hand trail down Smithers' chest. "I've heard of your licentious escapades, my roguish assistant," he said, his fingers sliding lower than the belly button. "You impeccably serve all my needs...save one." He made a grab for Smithers' crotch. Smithers cried out, and Burns withdrew his hand as if in fear. Smithers grabbed his wrist and drew it closer to him. "Oh, don't you dare stop this now, Monty..."