Heaven and Hell

Chapter 1: Just Like Every Morning

I tossed and turned in my light sleep, just like every night, thousands of thoughts rushing through my head. 
Will today be the day I finally tell him?
Ha, I already knew the answer to that question.  I've been trying to tell him for 30 years. Why would today be the day I finally confessed to Mr. Burns I was in love with him?
At exactly 4:05 AM, my neighbors at my apartment complex began blasting their usual hair metal.  Looks like it was time to get up already. 
Grumbling complaints under my breath, I slipped off my blue flannel pajamas and put on what I wore to work every day: a white button-up shirt, purple bow tie, dark green blazer, and blue pants.  I rarely wore anything else to work; Mr. Burns had said that I looked sharp in my work attire, so I decided that if it's good enough for him, it's definitely good enough for me.
I decided to put on an ABBA record while I prepared breakfast for myself.  Nodding and singing along to Waterloo, I made myself some plain scrambled eggs. 
I know it may seem like my life is dull and boring to you, but to me it's definitely not. My feelings are a never ending extreme rollercoaster, especially when it comes to my feelings towards Monty. It appears as if I spend my days doing the exact same things I did the day before, but I'm a man with little needs. Monty just has to smile at me and my whole day is suddenly made exciting and fabulous. God, I'm so fucking gay for him.
"Shit!" I yelled as I realized I had overcooked my eggs. Apparently I had gotten so lost in thought that I forgot I was cooking. I cringed as I took a bite; they had become rubbery and unpleasant. Oh well, I suppose I could just eat some of the leftovers of Monty's breakfast.
I checked my wrist watch. The time read 4:30 AM.
I guess I have some time to clean the appartement, then I thought to myself.
I decided to organise some of my kitchen, since I usually don't have the time to find a proper place for everything. I always leave in a hurry every morning after breakfast to get to the Burns Manor and I never feel like cleaning up after dinner.
I spent about an hour cleaning and rearranging, although I wasted most of it dancing and singing along to the greatest hits of ABBA.
Oh well I shrugged. At least I got something done.
I had noticed that it's always harder for me to get anything done without Mr. Burns around. I don't know what it is about him, maybe it's his demanding presence, that makes me want to impress him.
After 30 more minutes of mindless scrolling through social media, feeling jealous of all the people that actually had lives, unlike me, I recognised it was time to head to the Burns mansion. Suddenly, my heart increased its tempo as I headed for my front door. I always felt so giddy every morning, as I awaited seeing him that day. God, I act like a 15-year-old girl. I really am pathetic, aren't I?
Just like every day, as I drove to the mansion, the sun stung my eyes through the windshield of my silver Prius. I decided to turn on the radio since I was in a little bit of a sour mood this morning. Maybe it was the overcast weather or perhaps the fact that it was a Monday.
A smile crept onto my face as "I'm Coming Out" by Diana Ross came on the 80's channel. This song was my anthem junior year of high school. That was the year I had finally come to terms with my sexuality. At that point, I had already been bullied relentlessly and accused time and time again of being gay since middle school, but never actually figured out for myself that I liked men.
This was all thanks to the fabulous Monty Burns. God, I owe so much to him.  He has no idea how thankful I am that he's just a part of my life.
Before I knew it, 20 minutes had gone by already. I figured I had zoned out again. Thank goodness I had driven this same street so many times or else I probably would have crashed.
While making a mental note to be more aware of my surroundings, I jumped out of my car and jogged up the steps of the Burns mansion. As I fumbled through my keys, I felt my heart skip a beat. Waking Monty up was probably my favorite part of the day, he always looked so peaceful when he was asleep.
In a matter of minutes, I had stepped through the door, traveled up the staircase, and down the long, narrow corridor to Mr. Burns' bedroom.
I quietly tiptoed into the room, ensuring that I wasn't interrupting his slumber. I set down today's newspaper on his bedside table that I had grabbed from right outside my apartment complex just before I left. He loves reading that day's paper every morning, so I make sure never to forget it.
After I had set down the paper, I decided to take a minute to just look at him. I know this sounds pretty odd, but I rather enjoy watching him sleep. He must have been having a good dream because a slight smile had found its way onto his ancient yet beautiful face.
As I watched him, I imagined what it would be like to be the pillow he was holding. Oh, how blissful that would be. Just to feel his arms around my waist, just fantasizing it made my heart race.
I hadn't realized I had fallen into a dream-like state for the third time that morning. Mr Burns slowly awakened to find me staring at him, which I wish I could say was the most awkward situation we've been in.
"Smithers, what are you doing just staring at me?  We've got work to do, for God's sake!"
"Oh, sorry, sir. I didn't get much sleep last night, I must still be a little drowsy this morning."
"Oh, well, you better wake up soon, Smithers, because I will take no mistakes in my breakfast."
"Of course, sir. I wouldn't give you any less."
"Yes....." Mr. Burns trailed off, clearly a bit flustered. God, he's so cute when he gets embarrassed. "I'll have my breakfast now, Smithers." He said after a considerable amount of seconds, whilst reaching for that morning's newspaper.
"Right away, sir-Oh!"
Just as I was about to turn away, I noticed he was dangerously close to falling off of his bed while stretching to reach his bedside table.  Before I knew it, his head was an inch from the floor.  Thank goodness my instincts took over me because it didn't even register in my brain what was happening until I was on the floor, holding him in my arms.
We stayed there for an inappropriate amount of seconds, both of us not really knowing what to do. Both of our faces had also flushed a most significant bright shade of pink, I might add.
After I had realized that Mr. Burns hadn't fallen off his bed and hadn't died, I attempted to take in this rather romantic moment. I was on my knees, my arms scooped under him, holding him bridal-style. His left hand was still grasping onto the sheets of his bed, a last attempt at not falling to the floor.  Mr. Burns avoided eye contact with me like his life depended on it.
My eyes wandered all over his body, eventually finding themselves at his lips. Oh, his luscious, luscious lips. I wish I could describe how delicious they looked. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster until it felt like it was going to pop right out of my chest.  I began to hesitantly lean my head down closer to his face.  My eyes locked onto my target: Monty's thin, cracked lips.
Can I do this, because God knows I want to so bad. 
Mr. Burns shifted in my arms, swiftly ruining the moment. I hadn't realized how long we had been in this position.
"Um, I appreciate you saving me, Smithers, but I would like my breakfast, now," Mr. Burns ordered, embarrassment evident in his voice.
"Oh, I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable,"
"Oh, just skip the formalities, Smithers, my breakfast!"
"Straight away, sir." I quickly placed him back in his bed and handed him his newspaper.
My face burned a furious shade of red as I walked out of the room.
I can't believe I was that close to actually kissing him!
What just happened seemed unreal. It felt heavenly holding him.  I wished he wouldn't get so awkward each time I held him, or else I would do it more often.
I played the past event over and over in my head as I prepared his Monday breakfast of eggs benedict.  I couldn't help but think of what would have happened if I did kiss him.
I quickly pushed the thought out of my brain, snapping myself back into reality. I had already fantasized enough today.
About 20 minutes later, I had finished making Monty's breakfast and I was on my way upstairs to his bedroom.
Upon delivering it I asked, "Do you need anything else, sir?"
"No, that should be sufficient, Smithers,"
I nodded and began to leave the room to clean up from breakfast and make myself something to eat. From behind me I heard a small "Thank you,"
Smiling stupidly I responded with, "You're welcome, sir."
That was new. He almost never says thank you.