Damien himself greeted them at the front door, wearing an apron. "Waylon, hello, how are you? I apologise, I am finishing in the kitchen. Please, come in, almost everyone is here. We will eat in a half hour."
"Hi, Damien. Thank you."
Damien nodded, stepped aside to let them into the foyer. His eyes landed on the scotch Waylon carried.
"Is that... that is not Macallan?" he asked, seeming incredulous, the glass glinting by the interior light, illuminating its provenance.
"Yes, it's from 1940." Waylon handed the bottle to him. "It's a gift from me and... do you know Monty?"
Damien regarded Burns up and down. "Ah, I believe so, you are the proprietor of the nuclear plant, yes? I have heard your name in reference."
Burns drew himself together, straightening his posture. "Yes, I own the nuclear plant."
"Very interesting, hm..." Damien nodded. "Well, thank you again, both, this is a splendid gift." He disappeared towards his kitchen again after that.
Waylon hadn't been to Damien's house for a few months. It wasn't on the scale of Burns', and hosted a different decorating and architectural style, leaning towards more modern motifs; it was impressive, nonetheless.
The party existed across the entire ground floor and basement, including Damien's backyard, which allowed plenty of room to spread out. Waiters circulated with hors d'œuvres. Music emanated from somewhere, mixing with the cadences of the people standing or sitting about, talking.
"Those fellows over there are waving to you," Burns informed Waylon. Indeed, a couple of his friends stood over by the far wall of the room.
"That's John and Henry."
"You want to talk with them, don't you? Be cordial?"
"Oh, yes..."
"Come, then. Don't stand here," Burns said impatiently; Waylon followed him anyway.
John, a man of medium height scarcely taller than Waylon with black hair, stood holding a wine glass by the windows, next to Henry, who was blond and shorter than Burns, but just as slender.
"Waylon! I haven't seen you since... I don't know, maybe the last dinner," John exclaimed, as Waylon exchanged quick embraces with his two friends.
"Hey, Waylon," Henry said, "good to see you here."
Waylon agreed. He noticed John and Henry had turned their attention to Burns, who in turn looked at Waylon pointedly.
"Er, this is Monty," he announced, "Monty, John and Henry."
Burns nodded. "Gentlemen."
John and Henry gave each other glances. They already knew that Waylon had been in love with Burns for ages. Now, it seemed to them that Burns had reciprocated, which was true.
John shook Burns' hand. "Nice to meet you."
Henry echoed similar. Then he asked, "So are you and Waylon together?"
"What do you-" Burns frowned, "ah, you mean are we partners, then, yes, we are together."
Waylon felt his heart swell at the declaration. He said to Burns, "I told them about you, er, a while ago."
"Waylon talked about you a lot," Henry added, "you run the power plant, right?"
"I do, yes." Burns looked around. "Would any of you know where I might find the washroom?"
"There's one down the hall where we came in," Waylon said. John and Henry chimed in with other locations. Burns grasped Waylon's arm for an instant before walking off, and he smiled, his manner still hesitant to display affection in front of other people. Waylon watched him go and then regarded his friends again.
"Very nice, Waylon," said Henry, "congratulations on getting together with him."
"So it was true, that thing in the Enquirer tabloid?" John asked, "the part about you and him?"
YOU ARE READING
New Reflections (Burnsmithers)
Fanfiction[Complete] One day, Mr Burns wonders what it would be like if he and Smithers were closer in age; if he, Burns, were younger. The next morning is as usual until Waylon discovers Burns has undergone a drastic change overnight- one that affects them b...
