Starlight Stories Rich and Love: Burns Song

Chapter 22: Hearts Held Hostage

After lunch, on his way back to his office, Smithers came across Homer. "Hey, Waylon! How're things with ol' Monty?"

"Great, actually. And I'd appreciate if you addressed him as 'Mr. Burns.' Even I refer to him that way while at work."

"Oh, gotcha. So, things are good between you and Burnsie?"

"Yes, things are very good between me and Mr. Burns."

"So...you wouldn't be interested in a zany scheme to get him to prove he really loves you?"

"Haven't you had enough zany schemes for a lifetime?"

"Haven't you had enough relationship drama for a Lifetime movie?"

"Thanks, but I already know he loves me. Though..." He looked around to ensure they were alone. "I must confess, I can't bring myself to trust him anymore. He..." Smithers lowered his voice to a whisper, "he cheated on me. With Maureen."

"Gee, I'm sorry to hear that." They stood there awkwardly avoiding each other's gaze for a few seconds. "Well, if you're ever in doubt about his commitment to you, you can always count on me to orchestrate a phony kidnapping."

"That didn't even work when you pulled that stunt to convince him he loved his son."

"Yeah, but he actually loves you."

Smithers' heart fluttered. It wasn't just apparent to him that Burns loved him – it was equally apparent to others. He clasped his hands over one of Homer's and shook it. "I can't thank you enough, Homer, for helping bring us together. I'm living my wildest dreams, and it's partly thanks to you."

"So...you don't want me to kidnap you."

"If he thought you were really kidnapping me, he would shoot you on sight. That is, if his arthritis didn't stiffen his poor trigger finger." He felt a sting of sadness at the thought of Burns' physical infirmity. He was in very good shape for a man his age, but he still suffered a wide spectrum of maladies. Fortunately, they kept a steady supply of ether on hand to soothe him through times of pain. The memories of times he'd eased Burns' pains warmed his heart. Long before he'd ever given him an orgasm, he had been able to make him feel better nonetheless. "I'm sure I'll be able to trust him again someday soon."

"If you want to get him to prove his trustworthiness, the best way is to–"

"No kidnapping."

"Oh..."

"Anyway, I have to go see Mr. Burns." He began walking towards their office. "Have a good day, Homer!"

No sooner had he entered Burns' office that Burns said sharply, "Smithers! What is the meaning of your dilatory ingress?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I was talking to Homer Simpson."

"Ah yes, that oaf who drank motor oil and filled the gas tank with cola."

"You remembered," marveled Smithers.

"Yes, well, I've only known the man for a few months, but one like that is hard to forget."

Smithers didn't have the heart to remind him that he'd known Homer Simpson for just over a decade. "Were you lonely?" He sat in his chair beside Burns and kissed him delicately where his ear lobe met his jaw.

"Smithers...that's not fair."

"What's not fair?" he said, playing ignorant as he moved in for another kiss, concluding the impassioned peck with a slight nibble of the cartilaginous tissue.

"Oh! Smithers..." He grasped Smithers' wrist, his cheeks flushing as a nervous yet playful smile emerged on his face. "I'll never get any work done with you in the office."