A/N: Yes I know, I should be working on other things. But a certain pairing bit me in the arse and wouldn't let go- so I sat down and... this came out... I don't know what to think of it, since it's not the type of thing I usually write, or something... hm. Anyhow, I'm taking comfort in the fact that it's a one shot and now I can get back to my other story's (hopefully). Enjoy reading, I own nothing, and bear in mind it has slash and a little sex.
Que Sera, Sera
Time is free, but it's priceless. You cannot own it, but you can use it. You cannot keep it, but you can spend it. Once you've lost it you can never get it back.
"Hi- I'm looking for a Myez, first name Phil." He waited impatiently, fingers tapping the hard plastic of the phone's receiver.
"Just a sec… Hey everybody, Phil-Myez… come on people Phil-Myez…"
"Sorry Moe I'm a married man." Someone, who sounded suspiciously like his father, shouted back.
"Oh Bart now really…" Bart turned to glance over his shoulder, Robert leaning casually in the lounge doorway, disapproving look fixed in place.
"The phone bit again."
"Listen you little puke…" Bart hung up on the expected threat, small grin in place. The other was right, not only should he have grown out of it quite a while ago, he was actually starting too.
"You're 28- don't you think it's time to retire such childish antics, like prank phone calls and cherry bombs." The man practically groaned.
"I haven't played with cherry bombs in years and how old were you when you ran around in a grass skirt and got shot out of a cannon." He said, heading past the other.
"Were shot out of a cannon." Robert said, the correction barely registering for Bart, mostly because the other had been doing it for years, it like white noise.
"A valid point never the less I suppose." He admitted quietly, following Bart into the dinning room, the boy setting plates out on the table.
"Why is there an extra place set?" He asked, looking over the already laid-out silverware.
"Because someone else is coming to dinner…" He could read between the lines, given the sarcastic tone, which Bart always used whenever he wanted to shift his attention off the current topic, he didn't want to tell him who the extra place was for.
"Oh good god- you've invited the harlequin haven't you?"
"Speaking of childish things- don't you think you should get over it already dude." He said, placing the last plate.
"I'll 'get over it' when you relinquish your boy crush on him." Bart grinned, came around, and slid his hands beneath Robert's jacket.
"You know the second you have that rod surgically removed; you'll be able to appreciate how truly funny Krusty is." Bart grinned, leaning up- Robert still had an inch or two on him, which he'd found a little annoying a few months ago.
"I would rather have my brain pickled with formaldehyde- then be dragged down to that simpleton's level." He glared, before leaning down and stealing a light kiss.
"You're dating Bart Simpson dude… face it- your tastes already in the gutter." Bart teased.
"Dating you is hardly as mortifying as it use to be."
"Is so." Bob made a doubtful noise and Bart's glare grew darker.
"Besides those obnoxious calls and the fact that you're wearing those shoes with that suit… Face it Bart, you're not the clueless rebel you once were."
"No way man- I'm still wicked bad."
"You're a constitutional attorney, Bart, specializing in the first amendment."
"So- I think people should be able to say what-ever-the-hell they want, doesn't mean I'm not still the smarmy little hellion you always claimed I was." Bart said, filthy grin curling across his mouth, hand dipping to rub Bob through his pants.
"You're going to prove your still 'wicked bad' by feeling me up in your mother's dinning room." The distained tone slightly ruined when his words hitched at 'mother's'.
"Not just feeling up…" Bart mumbled, fingers hooking in behind his pant button.
"Oh good god, why do I always encourage you."
"Oh hello Bob- I didn't hear you come in." If what they were doing hadn't looked suspicious by itself, it certainly did after Robert jumped a mile, cheeks darkening several shades.
"Marjorie." If she noticed though, she ignored it, setting the covered bowl of salad down on the table.
"Thank you so much for kind dinner invitation." Bart snorted, Marge scowling at him for it.
"Bart where are the glasses?"
"Don't have a cow mum… I'm getting them." He sighed, heading back to the kitchen.
"So Bob, how are classes going?" Marge questioned, the two of them trailing after Bart.
"My lady, every new group of freshmen, makes me worry a little more about the state of the world." He said lightly, looking over the slightly disheveled kitchen; dirty dishes stacked inside the sink.
"Oh come on- if this uncultured little bastard-"
"Can turn out alright- I'd say there's hope for your students." Bart said placing a light kiss on his cheek as he headed back past with stacked up cups.
"Madam…" Robert said, after watching Bart's progress for a moment.
"I would be delighted to offer my culinary services."
By the time Bart came back they were both deeply immersed in singing scores from the Phantom of the Opera and discussing roast potato seasonings.
Bart parked himself in front of TV and channel hopped, he wasn't at it long though, was interrupted by Lisa's arrival- Colin in toe.
"No that's not what I'm saying at all- Hey Bart." Colin said, shaking his hand briefly, before continuing his fight with Lisa.
"I just think that enough time and money has already gone into cold-fusion research, with absolutely nothing to show for it." He explained.
"In the immortal words of Edison, I have not failed 1000 times. I have successfully discovered 1000 ways to NOT make a light bulb. Too many resources have gone into cold-fusion research to simply abandon it now." Fighting about environmental issues… yep it was obviously an average day in the Colin/Lisa saga.
"Hi Bart-" Lisa said, placing a kiss on his cheek before hanging up her jacket, the pregnant swell of her stomach showing beneath her t-shirt.
"Colin- let's put this on hold until after dinner- otherwise Dad'll fall asleep at the table again." She said, heading through to the lounge, pausing to stare towards the open kitchen door.
"Huh, Phantom of the Opera… Bob's arrived then I take it."
"Yeah but Dad's still MIA… I think he's at Moe's. Maggie's also supposed to be dropping by as well; her plane might be late though."
"I caught the end of her Sydney concert on TV last night, her album's gonna break sales records again and how do you know that dad's… Argh- Bart enough with the prank calls already. You're a little too old don't you think." She said, hand going to rub absently at her stomach.
"Wanna do one and see if you can hear him in the background too." Bart said, picking the receiver back up.
"Okay." She said taking the phone and punching the number in on the keypad, fingers drumming on the plastic cradle as she listened to the rings.
"Moe's tavern- home of the words smartest and largest Rattus Norvegicus'… rats Barney, I'm talking 'bout the rats…" Lisa grinned.
"Hi, I'm looking for a gentleman by the name of Tass, his first name is Ty." She said, taping her foot.
"Hang on a sec… hey everyone- I'm looking for a Ty-Tass… come on is there a Ty-Tass in here or not."
"What'd'ya think of this one Moe."
"Homer for the love of god- put your pants back on."
"Yep, he's there." She said, dropping the phone back into the cradle.
"So was Maggie really that good?"
"Hm- even Colin enjoyed her new songs and you know how he feels about that kind of music."
"It was good and she seems to be enjoying this tour a lot more." Collin nodded.
"Masquerade! Grinning yellows, spinning reds... Masquerade! Take your fill -let the spectacle astound you! Masquerade! Burning glances, turning heads... Masquerade! Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you! Masquerade! Seething shadows breathing lies... Masquerade! You can fool any friend who ever knew you!" All of their attentions shifting as Robert broke into a loud solo number.
"Are people ever surprised when they find out he's dating a guy." Lisa teased.
"None of the ones I've met." Bart answered smoothly.
"So Bob- how's the college curriculum going?" Lisa said, passing down the salad bowl, Bob groaning and shaking his head.
"Sore subject still?" Lisa said with a smile.
"It's a constant bloody struggle is what it is- the lemmings I work with, really." He said with another purely theatrical groan.
"You work with lamington's? That sounds delicious but highly impractical." Homer said authoritatively, before devoting all of his attention to his pork chop once more. Bob shook his head and turned back to the logical conversation, long since past the point where Homer's casual stupidity could annoy him. The man's heart was usually in the right place and he had saved Bart, the whole town in fact during the dome fiasco- though since it was technically his fault in the first place... Bob cut off the line of thought. It was entirely too easy for ones eyes to cross whilst trying to work out whether Homer Simpson was a hindrance or a help to everyday life. Typically, he listed the man in the same group as Krusty- an annoying, unfortunate constant in his life.
"How's your grant application coming along Lisa?"
"The higher-ups are dragging their feet- but that's nothing unusual, honestly with the way there acting you'd think they didn't rubber stamp this kind of thing a dozen times a day." She sniffed.
"So what about baby names Lisa," Marge cut in.
"Have you and Colin thought of anything you like."
"Prudence Fay if we have a girl and Whitman Moore if we have a boy." She said pushing carrot around on her plate.
"I've also decided to have a natural birth, since there have been some alarming study's on what effect some of drugs administered during labor can have on the baby." She beamed, Marge staring at her across the table with an odd look.
"Good luck with that sweetie." She eventually said, before immediately changing the subject.
"So Bart- have you and Bob talked about children yet." The potato he was in the middle of swallowing stuck oddly at the back of his throat and he choked for second before coughing and sorting himself out. Glaring across the table at Lisa, because somehow it was her fault, she was the pregnant one.
"Kids, mum, you remember what happened to the goldfish I brought last year right?" The ones he'd managed to remember to feed once.
"Oh honey kids are different, they cry when their hungry." Marge said dismissively.
"Marge, Marge…" Homer whispered, nudging her elbow lightly.
"There both guys…" He said conspiratorially.
"Oh Homer please, they have lots of options… adoption or if one of them actually wants to father a child, then there's always surrogacy." Marge explained.
"Surrogacy hey." Homer nodded, before going back to whispering.
"Hey Marge- which one's gonna be pregnant?"
"Homer that's not what surrogacy means."
"So Krusty, how's the show going." Lisa said suddenly, grasping for a quick subject change.
"Argh- it'd be fine if I could just rid myself of all the network executives. The changes Bob suggested are all working well." He admitted with a shrug.
"So how does it feel odd to not be in front of the camera after all these years?"
"It does- but every clown knows that after you break your hip doing a simple bicycle trick, it's time to hang up your floppy shoes."
There was a knock at the door, whoever was on the other side not bothering to wait for someone to answer. There was the sound of the door opening then clicking closed and a second later Maggie wondered into the dinning room.
"Maggie- I though you weren't gonna make it sweetheart." Marge said, standing up to give her youngest a hug.
"How was the flight?" Maggie smiled and motioned 'good' with her hands.
"Oh sweetie did you strain your voice again?"
No, laryngitis, it's only acute though and I have three weeks before my last show, so I should be fine by then.
"Well sit down and I'll make you a cup of ginger tea." Marge said without missing a beat.
"Margret, how has your time in Australia been?" Bob asked, after the girl had seated herself.
It's a very pretty country… and without Bart there, there was no mob trying to kill me. She signed with a grin.
"Honestly- you flash your butt at one country's government and suddenly your travel black-listed." Bart sulked, spearing a piece of chicken with his fork.
Maggie grinned again, before going back to filling her plate, not particularly fused by the loss of her voice. She'd gone without it for longer stretches before- had been completely silent for the first 8 years of her life thanks to undeveloped vocal chords, which was why her whole family knew sign in the first place.
Ironically, it'd been Homer's idea, she didn't know how or where he'd even gotten the book from, but at 5 years old, the day after the specialist Dr. Hibbert had recommended had delivered the grim news, Homer had sat down on her bed and had ran through the alphabet with her.
Hi, Sweetie. Homer signed, abandoning his pork chop for a second.
"Well how lovely that everybody's here now..." Marge said, coming back with Maggie's steaming cup of tea, tangy smell trailing the cup.
She back down on Homer's left, the man in his usual seat at the head of the table, whilst Krusty was at the other end, Marge Robert and Bart talking up one side, Lisa, Colin and Maggie the other.
"If I could just say a few words…" Homer said, standing up and tapping his glass with his fork lightly, freed-up since his plate was currently empty. Marge already poised to fill it once more; she set the plate of pork chops back down though in favor of listening.
"I'd be a better public speaker." Homer said with flourish and a grin, Bart and Lisa both copying the words and rolling their eyes.
"Dad you need a new opener." Lisa frowned.
"Hey- I used that exact same joke last month and everybody laughed." Homer pouted.
"That's because they hadn't heard it over 2 dozen times dad." Lisa said, skewering a piece of cheese.
"Oh Lisa honey- it can't be that many- let's see there was my proposition 24 speech, your Aunt Patty's birthday…"
"Homer, your speech." Marge prodded.
"Oh yeah- right. Well since we're all together, which doesn't happen very often these days and let me just say that I always though I'd enjoy that more than I actually do- but anyway. What I wanted to say was that- I don't think I was always the best father I could've been to you kids and since my own dad died… I've been thinking a lot about how you kids are gonna feel when I die." Bart had the strong urge to mumble 'relieved', but bit his lip and let it pass.
"And I just- want you all to know that I proud of you's and that there's never been a moment in any of your lives where I wasn't. You all turned out great and not because of the jobs you have, or the family's that you've built, or the awards you've received, but because you're all happy, you followed your dreams and that's a scary thing to do and I'm proud of you for it." Homer dropped back into his seat.
"Alright Marge, pork chop me." He said casually.
"Homer that was really beautiful." Marge said, small smile in place.
"Thanks Marge but seriously make with the pork chops, my plate's been empty for a whole 5 minutes now and you know how I feel about that." The smile disappeared with a frustrated noise as Marge set about filling the plate.
Bart contemplated the words for a moment.
"Yeah- thanks." Lisa said quietly, eyes looking a little misty, but since she'd spent 20 minutes that morning sobbing hysterically over not having her house keys, that didn't mean much.
"So is this why you insisted on us all getting together mum- with all the food and the nice china?" Lisa questioned, once Homer's plate was refilled and she'd lost the annoying urge to bawl.
"Partly." Marge said, topping up her own glass of wine.
"But it's also a special day and it'd be nice if we could share a few more of those a year." She mused.
"Special day, what special day mum?" Lisa frowned, running over birthdays and anniversaries in her head.
"Bart and Bob's." Marge said joyously.
"Did you two finally give in and have that Vegas wedding that Marge has always wanted." Colin teased, Robert spluttering indignantly.
"Don't say the V word." Bart said calmly.
"It gives him hives and mum what special day?"
"Good grief- I would've thought that at least one of you two would've remembered." Marge huffed.
"Today is the anniversary of the day Bob and Bart met." Marge announced.
"Huh?" Bart grunted, forkful of chicken paused halfway to his mouth.
"Mum." Lisa suddenly wailed.
"Surely you don't want us to celebrate the day Bart first sent Bob to prison."
"Huh-" Bob said quietly.
"She's right- 18 years ago today." He added nonchalantly.
"Did I ever apologize for that?"
"No, but I never apologized for any of the times I tried to kill you either."
"Think we should now?"
"Hm, no, words in situations such as this are cheap, we know how we feel." Bob said, still just as casual.
"That's what I'd always assumed." Bart said, food finally making it to his mouth.
"How the hell did you two get together anyway?" Colin frowned.
"I worked out what over-sized feet on a man actually meant." Bart said with grin.
"Vulgarian." Robert grumbled.
"Quiet sideshow-" Bart ordered.
"Or I'll tell everyone how old I really was the first time you took advantage of me." Robert turned an interesting shade of red, Lisa glaring across the table at Bart. Marge and Homer thankfully seemed to have missed that particular snippet of conversation.
So have you and Colin decided on a wedding date yet? Maggie motioned after gaining Lisa's attention.
"Actually we've decided not to get married yet- although we're ready to have a child together, we're still not sure about tying the knot, and so we've put the plans on hold… maybe indefinitely."
"You ever regret any of it?" Bart asked, sprawled messily in a navy deck chair, tie, and jacket left somewhere inside.
"You mean spending years as a homicidal maniac?" Robert said, sliding down to sit behind him.
"The arrests and incarcerations aren't something I look back on with any fondness. But than again if you hadn't foiled my brilliant and completely founded plan to frame Krusty I would never have tried to kill you later and we wouldn't be here now." He said with a lazy sigh.
"True." Bart stretched out his shoulders, clenching his toes inside his shoes, moaning when Robert's thumb started tracing light circles behind his ear.
"You trying to get lucky tonight or something?" The crude question was met with an exasperated grumble.
"Like I have to try to get that."
"True- you are the less amorous one of us." Bart teased.
"I am not frigid."
"Right after the first time we had sex- you ran like a girl dude." Bart laughed.
"So did you." He was blushing again- which he hated… only Bart could make him.
"Oh, eat my shorts! I was 15 and I'd just gone for a tumble with my arch-nemesis. I ran to my sister. YOU left the country."
"I considered going to see my brother- but mostly I could just see him laughing at me." Robert said quietly, working the top buttons of Bart's shirt open.
"When we ran into you in Italy, I thought you were gonna die of embarrassment." He chuckled.
"Yes, well." Robert stammered.
"Was it really that mortifying, having slept with a cretin like me?"
"That was not it at all, as you damn well know." Robert snapped.
"I pride myself on my self-control and that I'd lost it so spectacularly was what was mortifying. The fact that it was over you was just cruelly ironic." Bart chuckled again.
Bob left him briefly then, to fix them both drinks, coming back with a scotch on the rocks for Bart and glass of red wine for himself.
"You know- I'm really glad you did." Bart said wistfully, head resting against Bob's chest, watching the first few stars twinkle to life, cool evening breeze stirring his short blonde hair.
Bob looked up the dark sky, rubbing himself against the hand resting under his pants, bare skin on skin. His own hands were on Bart, one inside the now rumpled shirt, fabric shifting as his fingers circled and pinched an already pebble hard nipple. Other hand wrapped around Bart's cock, giving long lazy strokes, which elicited small shivers.
"So am I."