𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 || the simpsons

Chapter Three: Better than Nothing

Ever since that day, Smithers had continued to come to Moe's tavern to relieve himself of his burdens. He had become a regular customer at the bar, just like Homer, Lenny, Carl, and Barney. Moe was glad to see him every time he came, but something was troubling him. The feeling that he had felt that day had continued to persist, flaring up whenever he came in, and lingering long after he would leave. Moe knew he had to do something about it, but he had never gotten an opening. 

Until today.

The evening started like any other. Homer, Lenny, Carl, and Barney came in the bar, and they ordered their beers. Around 45 minutes later, Smithers entered, but this time, he looked even worse then he had the first time he came in. He sat down in his usual seat, and asked for a beer. Moe watched him as he opened the bottle. 

"Hey, kid, you alright?" he asked him.

Smithers took the bottle, and drank deeply from it before replying. "I will be."

"You sure?" Moe persisted. "Cause you don't seem like you're doin' too well."

"I can't keep doing this, Moe," he said, sighing. "I can't keep on ignoring my problems. But it seems that every time I try to do something about them, everything goes wrong, and I'm left with more. I don't know what to do."

Moe leaned against the counter. "Look. I like you, kid, and that's why I'm gonna spare ya a lot of trouble, so please, take my advice. Don't end up like me. I was 19 years old when I realized that I had wasted my life. So now I'm stuck in here, servin' alcohol to a bunch'a brain-dead idiots...not that you're an idiot! I don't mean it toward you! But still...you've got your whole future ahead of you, and as much as I've enjoyed your being here every day, I gotta say, it's never too late to do something to change it."

Smithers chuckled to himself, before taking another sip from the bottle. 

"Future? What future?" he scoffed. "Nothing has ever changed for me. I'm probably just going to be stuck in my stupid, dead-end job for the rest of my life. There's no hope for someone like me."

"Relatable..." Moe said to himself. "Yeah, but ain't there that guy you like? You could confess to him, cause who knows! He might like you back."

"No...no." Smithers sighed again. "It's hopeless. He's the kind of guy who doesn't like anyone, least of all me. He could never love me back...no one could. Why would anyone ever love a soul like me?"

Moe put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't think like that. Why would they not love you? You're always real kind to everyone, and you care about people. I should know...I had the same thoughts you had not that long ago. Then when I met you, I knew that someone did care about me. You saved me, in a way."

Smithers smiled at Moe. "Thanks a lot, Moe. I'm glad that you make me feel better about myself. You're almost giving me the courage to talk to this man about how I feel."

At this, Moe began to feel slightly worried. He knew that Waylon really liked this person, this man, whoever he was, and he began to feel a little jealous. He sort of wished that he was that person. Smithers noticed that Moe's expression had changed, so he asked him, "Is something wrong?"

Moe came to a decision. He'd known that he needed to do something about these feelings, but he hadn't been sure how. But now he realized that there was no time for planning.

"Waylon," he said. "I got somethin' I needed to ask you, but I don't think that here's the right place. Cause," he gestured to Homer, Lenny, Carl, and Barney, who were talking amongst themselves. "I didn't really want them to hear about it, and then pester me the rest of the night about it. Can I ask you about it outside?"

"Sure." he replied, shrugging.

Smithers got up, and headed for the door. Moe followed him outside as well. Once they were outside, Smithers leaned against the wall, and Moe looked down at the sidewalk, slightly nervous of what he was about to say.

"So, what is it, Moe?" Smithers asked.

Moe sighed and looked up.

"So it seems to me, they way that you talk to me about this guy, it seems to me like you really care about him. And I know you want to tell him about your feelings."

Smithers shrugged again. "I'm still not too sure. I just really don't want to be rejected, and I know if I tell him he'd reject me, so I think it's best that I shouldn't."

"Hey, I know the feeling, kid." Moe told him. "And I've learned that sometimes, it's best to just take what's given to you. Here you've already got your food, drinks and friends, so I gotta ask you: is what you're doing really worth it?"

Confused, Smithers asked, "As far as what? What do you mean?"

"It's just-" Moe struggled to find the right words. "I really like talkin' with you. And I've been meaning to tell you something, but I could never find the time to do it. And even if I could, you probably wouldn't like it, so I just decided to not do it. Man, I brought you all the way out here for nothin'..." he said sadly.

"What is it, Moe?" Smithers asked. "You can tell me."

The two friends made eye contact, and something in Moe snapped. He grabbed Smithers by the arm, pulled him close, and before he could say anything, kissed him. 

Smithers was shocked by Moe's sudden actions. Moe pulled away a second later, feeling ashamed and embarrassed, and refusing to look him in the eye.

"I'm so sorry...I had to get that off my chest..." he muttered, and turned away to go back into the bar. But before he could walk away, Smithers reached out and took him by the hand. Moe turned back around and looked at him, confused.

"You know what...screw it..." Smithers said, before stepping forward and pressing their lips together once more. In response, Moe slammed him against the wall, kissing him back with a burning passion. It wasn't Monty Burns, Smithers thought to himself, but it's better than nothing...