Starlight Stories Rich and Love: Burns Song

Chapter 18: The Very Wrath of Love

Once they had returned to their mansion and bidden the Simpsons good night, Smithers hung up their coats, then led them to their bedroom, where he first loosened his own bow tie, then unraveled Burns' tie. "We had a good time tonight, didn't we?" Burns grunted in a begrudging affirmative as Smithers began unbuttoning his shirt, fingertips gliding over his dry, wrinkled skin as each button popped loose. "I could tell you were enjoying yourself." As he undid the last button, he kissed the center of his chest, then kissed every inch up to his neck as he laid him back against their bed. "You are so beautiful," he said before pressing his lips against his neck again, this time kissing him wetly. "Oh, Monty...it's Thursday night," he said, wiggling his toes against Burns' foot.

Burns retreated hastily to the far side of the bed. "Not tonight."

Smithers tightened his lips. "So, you'd go to bed with Maureen in an instant, but you won't make love to me."

"I told you, I'm reluctant to betray your father's trust."

"Would you listen to yourself? You know how much my mother disapproves of us being together, and I love my mother. But you know what? Fuck her! And I'm sure I would've loved my father, but fuck them!"

"Now you sound like an impudent child, and I do not engage in sexual liaisons with children."

"Oh, go ahead, make more flimsy excuses. Treat me like I'm a child, when if anything, you're the childish one!"

"I've known you your entire life, Waylon. I am wracked with contrition over the concern that I might have taken advantage of you."

"That's absurd. You never once reciprocated my advances until this year."

"Just because we didn't have sex doesn't mean I was above using sex to manipulate you. On some level, I was aware of what you wanted from me, and I used that to make you comply with my desires."

"So you manipulated me. So fucking what? That's not news. What's new is you feeling guilt over it. You never feel guilt over anything!"

"That's because I never had anyone worth feeling guilt over. But now..."

"But now you love me."

"Yes. Yes, I do love you."

"Do you want to make love to me?"

He gave a conflicted grunt, then looked sharply into his eyes. "No. I don't."

"So, you don't find me attractive anymore?" Smithers said, his head down.

"I was attracted to you as my underling. But of late...you bore me."

Sniffing back a tear, he maintained an affectionate expression as he ran his hand across Burns' shoulder and said, "Okay. So we can fix this. We can role play, and you can order me around, and – and punish me," he said, smiling in delight at the thought.

"Confound it! Don't you see? I don't want to use you as a thing for my gratification. Doing so would make me feel dirtier than a French postcard!"

Brows furrowed, he said, "So, let me get this straight – you don't want me as your equal, and you don't want me as your subordinate. Pssht," he said derisively and, voice dripping with sarcasm, said, "So, what, you want me to be your superior?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Then what the hell do you want from me?"

"Shut up and get some shut eye," he said, turning away and pulling the covers over his shoulder.

"All righty, then," said Smithers, turning away. "Goodnight, Mr. Burns," he said in a perfunctory fashion, his lips pressed into his pillow.

Burns awoke to an empty bed. He glanced at his alarm clock. 6 a.m. Smithers is usually here with my breakfast by now. Where the devil is he, anyway? He waited, clutching his blanket around his body to fend off the cold. When Smithers failed to materialize within the following twenty minutes, he rang the bell he kept at his bedside. "SMITHERS!" he cried, not in anger but in consternation.