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There was a silence. In that moment, the deafening screams of his own mind compelling him fell completely silent. All that Moe could think about was him- Waylon Smithers. That silence within his head lasted the whole kiss, and then the slow walk back to the bar. This silence couldn’t be shaken, or more worryingly, understood.
What was I thinking? Moe couldn’t even understand his own feelings, it was as if he went into autopilot as he pulled the other man’s waist closer towards him. The memory was playing back, frame by frame, and Moe could feel his face getting warmer and warmer. No! I can’t really be thinking what I’m thinking right now! His inner voice exclaimed to cut over the thousandth replay of the night. But not even his conscious self’s turmoil could overshadow the glimpse he saw of Smithers’ face as he pulled away; just that split second before the realisation, the embarrassment, the awareness had hit either of them. When it was just the two of them, in that moment, created by Moe. “What was I thinking?”
“What?”
Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by a familiar voice- nasally and slightly accented. While it was generally an invited voice, it felt grating to Moe tonight. “What, what?” Moe answered, still half-dazed.
“You said something? Something about thinking?” Lenny responded.
“I said somethin’ about nothin’, now do you want anotha drink in that or are ya gonna keep sippin’ backwash ‘da rest-uh-da night?” And before he could answer, Moe swiped the glass from Lenny’s hand and began refilling it.
“Aw great, I know this attitude!” Lenny said with an overdramatic tone, nudging Carl who was sitting beside him, “who dumped you this time?”
“Dumped? I ain’t been dumped!”
“Dumped, stood up, rejected- you always act the same way when a lady’s involved!”
“I ain’t got no lady involved! I don’t know what ya talkin’ about!” Moe snapped loudly.
“Restraining order then.” Lenny muttered, garnering a mellowed laugh from the others sitting at the bar.
“Maybe it was a guy!” An even drunker Homer yelled, bursting into laughter, which made the men laugh much louder than before.
Moe felt as though his heart had been jump-started; first, it dropped dead and he felt a cold sweat come over him, then suddenly it was beating faster than ever, and he felt a reaction coming over him like adrenaline.
“That’s it, everybody out! All yous! Moe’s is closed for the night, so get your ugly mugs outta my sight and back to whatever sad lives you’ve got waitin’ for yous! Get out!”
Four confused faces stared back at him, though luckily they were all too drunk to speculate as to why that comment particularly struck a chord. Instead, their confusion was followed by slurred complaints and whining, making it easier for Moe to compose his panic and double down on this irritated facade.
“You heard me! Out, out, out!” He yelled as he ushered his customers out of the tavern. As the door shut behind the final yellow back, Moe felt as though he could breathe again, and that familiar silence took over.
Moe didn’t think he was that obvious with his romantic endeavours, at least not to the degree in which his friends recognised his disappointment or resentment. So many failures, constant heartbreak- but that didn’t happen today, did it? Moe lifted his hand to his head- “I don’t like guys!” He yelled to his judgemental reflection in the barely touched beer left behind. He’s never liked guys, not like that. Sure, there have been moments where he’s complemented a man’s appearance, or respected their physique, but that wasn’t attraction. Whereas with women, he’s gazed, he’s kissed, he’s had some intimate moments. Yet, as he pondered over his interactions with these women, it never felt as though it passed these shallow stages. The longing, the reward, and inevitably, the dissatisfaction.
I’m lonely, that’s what it is! Wow Moe, what a depressing new low.
But this felt different to loneliness. Moe knew loneliness- it came when his regulars opted for a new bar on the scene, or his birthday was forgotten, or no-one showed up for that card game he’d waited all week for. No- the feeling he experienced when spending time with a woman wasn’t loneliness, but emptiness.
This realisation hit him hard. The stark difference between one singular kiss with Smithers and the entirety of his experience with women left him staring emptily at the floor, his head in his arms as he leaned against the countertop. For a while, he stayed in this position, replaying his memories with various women over and over again, but through all of this, his mind wandered back to that kiss. In dead silence, his mind came to that kiss.
This level of reflection and insight scared Moe, and it seemed to hit him all at once. He immediately stood back up, pushing away from the counter and throwing the glasses off at full force. The loud smash seemed to be enough to break the silence that encapsulated him that evening, and with a moment of clarity in his mind, he decided to go to sleep.
-
But sleep was impossible. Smithers tossed and turned, unable to settle his racing mind. That kiss- why did it affect him this much? He hadn’t felt like this for a long time, and it much surpassed any casual endeavours he’s had with men in the past. Smithers sat up in his bed, running a hand through his short, bristly hair. He let out a loud sigh, and went to drink the glass of water on his bedside. Though, he hesitated, staring at his reflection in the dark room. There’s no way it’s just me who feels this way, he thought to himself, as he realised water might not be his drink of choice tonight.
He got dressed, fixing his bowtie in the mirror. “What the hell am I doing?” He muttered, blushing at his reflection, but that didn’t stop him. He walked out of his home and into his car. Driving down the road, he watched the streetlights darting past like shooting stars- the soft, yet artificial glow illuminating the deep, dark blue sky. The air was fresh and humid, hitting Smithers’ blushing face through the car windows. Though he was indeed driving, it felt as though the car was driving on its own, nearing ever closer to its final destination. Is this a good idea? Honestly, he was past caring. Smithers knew how he felt earlier, and he knew he didn’t have much else to lose. He drove the rest of the way basking in the warm silence of the night
-
“Third nightcap’s a charm!” Moe exclaimed, downing a glass of beer after waking restlessly again. He wobbled as he placed the glass down on the counter, then defeatedly sat on a barstool. He fidgeted with the glass, rolling its edges upon the countertop, and a thick blush crept across the centre of his face as his brow furrowed. “What the hell is wrong with me?” He sighed with a slow blink. Suddenly, the door opened, Smithers strolling through focused on his car keys. Moe would be horrified at anyone seeing him like this- let alone Smithers- seeing as he is only wearing a loose vest and boxers he’s owned for about ten years. He let out a yell, falling backwards off the barstool, and scampered into the backroom. Smithers watched the ordeal in bewilderment, as Moe yelled back to him “just get whateva ya want!”
Smithers sat down with his freshly poured drink, proud of the job he did without the guidance of the actual owner. Moe soon emerged from the backroom after composing himself from the sheer embarrassment he had experienced moments prior, back in his regular working clothes. Smithers was facing the wall behind the countertop, and merely glanced at Moe from the corner of his eye as he sipped at the froth of his drink. Moe let out a dry cough- another strategy of composure- and made his way around and behind the bar.
“I didn’t mean to- well, I assume I woke you?” Smithers finally said.
“Ah, no! Well, er, yeah, I was sleepin’ here, but I was already awake! Ya sobered me up a little anyways,” Moe stuttered, with a chuckle forced upon the end.
“I didn’t know this is where you lived, I never seemed to notice during all the renovations,”
“Oh I have my own place, just some nights i crash on a mattress in da backroom if I’m feelin’ rough or somethin’”
“Feeling rough, huh?”
Damn it.
Moe felt a cold sweat starting on the back of his neck, which he quickly rubbed away with his hand.
“Yeah, well, now that our- uh- business endeavour’s officially over, I gotta think about de-renovatin’ the place,”
“Regulars won’t put up with the decor for too long, huh Szyslak?”
“Heh, pretty much.”
The room fell quiet; Smither’s gaze was locked directly on the man in front of him, whereas Moe’s darted anywhere else in the room. Smithers could see his discomfort, the same one he saw on the steps of the city hall.
“You know I forgave you, Moe? Or are you so drunk that you’ve forgotten?” Smithers said, hoping his softer tone translated.
“Listen, er uh, mister Smithers-“
“Waylon. You can just call me Waylon.”
“Ah, yeah, Waylon. I’m sorry for how things went, and I know we already-“
“Kissed and made up?”
Moe stopped, immediately losing his train of thought. Instead, he stood staring at Smithers, his face flushing a bright red. Smithers laughed lightly, before taking a long sip of his drink.
“Moe, seriously, let's just forget about what happened today, just treat me like any other customer-“
“Why did you come here?”
Suddenly, it was Smithers who fell silent, shocked at Moe’s sudden composure. Smithers couldn’t answer, but soon regained his calmness and returned to sipping his drink. Moe continued.
“You coulda gone to any other bar in Springfield- in fact, any other bar woulda been much nicer than here- but ya didn’t. Why, Waylon? Why come back to me?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Why didn’t you go home tonight, Szyslak?”
The two men were at a stalemate. Their answers were the same, but neither knew how nor wanted to admit it. All they had was wishful thinking.
“I’ll go first- Moe, I know that everything fell apart because you were pretending to be someone you weren’t, but well," Smithers adjusted his bowtie slightly, "what happened after made me a little uncertain-”
“How did you know who you were? Y’know, like…” Moe’s voice trailed off, as he fidgeted with the dishcloth held in his apron. He couldn’t face Smithers, knowing that this question surpassed the expected curiosity of an average conversation. Smithers was taken slightly aback by the question- though recently he has been more comfortable with his sexuality, he’s mostly open with other gay men. This question hasn’t come up for him very much, and certainly not like this.
“Well, I just knew; just like anyone else really. But that doesn’t mean to say you’re always born knowing- it takes some longer than others. When it comes to you, in whatever form it takes, you know.” Smithers responded warmly.
“Ah, yeah that makes sense…” Moe said, rubbing the crook of his neck, “…things always seem tuh make sense when you say it.”
“You're one of the only people who seem to listen,” Smithers said with a smile, “which is why it’s so bittersweet that what we had came to an end, even though it was the right choice for both of us.”
“It was wrong of me, I know, to betray your trust. But, well, when I think of it, I uh,” Moe stopped. Am I really about to say this? Moe thought before continuing- the thought of solidifying his feelings terrified him.
“When i think back, I was lyin’ to yous in a different way to what you’re thinkin’ of.” Moe’s eyes clenched shut as he allowed his feelings to pour out of him across the bar to where Smithers was sitting, eyebrows raised and with complete attention.
“It was nice, just actin’ the way I wanted to in a room full of great guys, all comfortable with themselves. Don’t get me wrong, it was a little weird at first, but that time made me understand stuff I maybe didn't before. Then, Midge called me out on the- er, well- the way I was actin’ around yous, and I kinda felt obligated to clear the air-“
“Which you didn’t.”
“Which I didn’t, yeah. But da thing is- well, y’see- sometimes it’s nice for people to just assume things! It’s easy, y’don’t gotta think about it y’self- people just look at you, and decide for you who you are to them! But when it was my turn, or whatever you’d call it- my obligation to announce who I was to all of these people who made me feel comfortable and understood- well, I clammed up.”
Externally, Smithers continued to sit in silence, listening patiently to what Moe was saying. Internally, his mind was racing to all sorts of conclusions, many finalising on a recreation of what brought the two to this very moment. Hoping not to be getting ahead of himself, he listened on.
“I woulda told you how I felt, but I didn’t really understand it. Then, it was like somethin’ clicked in me or somethin’ when you asked me to- y’know, to… and that’s when everything changed for me. My mind ain’t been right since.”
By this time, Smithers was staring right at Moe, with a light blush forming on his face. Moe’s face was already bright red, with sweat forming upon his brow- he couldn’t face Smithers, almost as if he couldn’t believe his own words.
“Listen, all this openin’ up ain’t natural for ol’ Moe- what I’m tryna say is-“
Suddenly, Smithers put his hand atop Moe's, which was clenched atop the counter. it was slightly rough, and dryer than his own.
“Moe, the kiss we shared held a stronger connection than anything I’ve experienced in a long time. I can’t hide how I feel towards you, in fact, I couldn’t even stay away from you; I had to tell you my feelings tonight so that I could move on one way or another. I don’t know what to call it, or how you feel towards me, but that kiss meant something to me- something strong.”
Moe allowed Smithers’ thumb to rub delicately against his knuckles a few times, before lifting his hand slightly for his fingers to fall and intertwine within his own. His fingers hugged the other’s more delicate hand firmly before realisation hit and he let go.
“I’m new to this, and I don’t really know what this means for me but, I don’t think I can hide how I feel about ya- even looking at ya I feel like I give it away,” Moe said with a laugh, using that same hand to rub across his cheek and cover his mouth slightly. Smithers chuckled- he couldn’t deny that the other man’s bashfulness was extremely attractive to him. He then stood up from his stool and walked over to the fresh new jukebox they had installed all those days ago.
“How about we break this silence, Szyslak?”
Smithers slid a quarter into the jukebox and flipped through to any song that sounded romantic enough. The song played, using dreamy strings and shimmering synth sounds. He gave it a moment to sink in, before basking in it- dancing slowly with eyes shut and a glass in one hand. Moe could only watch Smithers, his mouth slightly open. All of this felt like a dream to him, and he didn’t want to wake up. Smithers let out a small exhale, opening his eyes slowly and setting his gaze upon Moe.
“Care to join me, mister bartender?” He said with a laugh. After their sobering conversation, the drink finally seemed to be setting in.
“Aw I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout dancin’!” Moe said, stuttering as he backed away further behind the bar.
“C’mon, I’ve seen you vogue, don’t get all shy on me now!” Smithers exclaimed as he danced his way behind the bar to meet Moe, grabbing his forearms and sliding his hands down to meet the other’s. Moe looked down at this and blushed, before letting a smile creep across his face as he looked away.
“Fine, but I swear, I’m da worst dancer I know!”
Moe pulled Smithers closer towards him, as the other man threw his head back in a loud laugh. Moe watched, fully infatuated with the sheer bliss on Smithers’ smirking face staring back at him. The two men spun around together- in varying closeness and distance, but never breaking the hold their hands had on one another.
They danced- tripping over each other’s feet on occasion- until the end of the song, both closed-eyed and giggling, before returning to each other's gaze. Moe looked into Smithers’ dilated pupils and felt that same rush from earlier on those steps at city hall. He bent in slowly, his eyes flickering between Smithers’ eyes and lips- meanwhile, the other man blushed and leaned in slightly, ready to embrace the experience. Their lips pressed closely together, and their hands rested comfortably between the others shoulders. During this moment between them, room seemed to emerge into sound and song- the track looped and made the two men jump, breaking their kiss prematurely. They stared at each other, then at the jukebox, and both burst into laughter.
“I guess we really did break the silence between us,” Smithers exclaimed in between chuckles.
“I guess we did!” Moe replied jokingly, though inside his relief and joy was truly immeasurable. Looking at the man in front of him, Moe finally felt comfortable, understood, and truly happy.