Chp. 1

It's always fucking Margret. Brown eyes roll to the back of their owner's head as they watch the opposite coloured haired couple sit and talk about nonsense, lips pursed around the straw of a big gulp, fingers tapping on the table as they sat invisibly every time. Every fucking time, he shook his head only to get up and walk to leave; he wouldn't notice he left anyway. Throwing away the orange slush he just finished before walking into the brisk winter air, pulling his scarf tighter around his neck and walking back toward the park. Ignoring his co-worker's annoying remarks, walking into the house and going to his room, he wondered would they ever notice what's going on. It's always fucking Margret this, Margret that, everywhere he turns, it's fucking Margret. Can't even have a day of bro with his only bro he's ever had and sadly, he probably never will again. The more he thought about it, the more the pain in his heart grew. He didn't hate her, but hated the way Mordecai looked at her, the way he'd giggle like a doofus around her, how'd he'd touch her hands shyly or whisper a sweet nothing in her ear. It broke him, unnerved him, because he was the only one he had left.

Two-toned eyes searched the restaraunt over and over before turning toward the object of their affection before asking had they seen the other, getting a no and walking off quietly. Looking at their phone and seeing the time, 17:55 bright on their screen, a sigh on their breath. Pulling on their jacket before waving goodbye to the fiery red-head that ran the counter, he walked into the dimming day, the wind blowing harshly before trekking to the park. Sighing for what was the upteenth time today, unlocking the door and running his hands through his two toned hair, wondering where on earth did the shorter one scamper off to. Heading up the stairs, pulling off his jacket with every step before stopping in front of Rigby's door, he could probably be in there; right? His hand reaching out for the knob slowly, swallowing hard as he turned it before pushing the door open, only to find him laying on his trampoline, headphones in and reading a magazine, mouthing the words to a Childish Gambino song. Brown eyes looking up from the magazine before pulling a white bud out of their ear, lips into a deep scowl before speaking. "Back already?" His tone cold and sharp as they looked back down at the magazine, waiting on the taller's reply, his throat burning slightly. "U-uh, yeh... When'd you get here?" Nervous, why was he nervous, scratching the back of his neck before looking away quickly. "About an hour ago, why?"

"Eh, whatever man..." With that, a white ear bud went back into an ear, eyes skimmed page after page and more words were mouthed by supple lips. What the fuck? Was he mad? Sighing before turning to leave the room, his eyes darting back to them once more before they left completely; the door closing behind them. Stripping down to their nothings, pressing a button on their mp3 player before walking into the adjacent bathroom, pondering... But what about? The shower's hot water kissing their skin, hair becoming a soaked mess against their pale skin, fingers up to their ears, touching the jewelry in them. Time to clean them, huh? Slipping out slowly before being put on the soap dish next to them, cleaning the gunk and sour puss out of them before stepping out completely, drying off and sliding them back in. It's 18:45 and all he wants to do is sleep... Time to do it...

Chp. 2

"Morning bro." A groggy hello from the taller paler male as he shuffles into the kitchen, a grunt in response to it as the shorter eats quietly, staring off into space. Is he still mad from yesterday? Fuck it, whatever. Walking to the fridge and grabbing the milk for the cereal they were gonna demolish, sitting down before pouring himself a bowl, only to see out of his peripherial, the retreating form of Rigby; bowl still on the table. What the fuck was that? Shuffling into his room, pulling on whatever the fuck was next to him at the time, burping before walking down the stairs and bumming on the sofa until he saw him slowly coming into his far sight. "Let's go bro, we're gonna be late." Silence before standing up and walking out the door and to the cart, eyesight set on an unknown destination. The day droned on like any other, except much quieter, any joke Mordecai cracked, Rigby just stood silently and shrugged before moving onto the next task and before long, the workload was finished. "What's up with Rigby?" Benson asked as he watched Rigby walk into the house, clipboard in hand and a somber face. "I dunno, he's been acting strange lately..." Mordecai trailed off, scratching his head slightly before pondering on what could be wrong but thinking nothing of it; instead walking inside.

Walks in only to hear nothing, no video game play, no blaring music, nothing. This is freaky, it's never this quiet. Walking upstairs, the door to Rigby's room ajar, peeking his head in only to see him in the same position he found him the last time only with a cigarette between his fingers and eyes into space. "Dude, what's your deal?" He asks coming fully into the room, the smaller still silent. "DUDE!" Screaming gets you nowhere bro, no response and a puff or two later, he's been there for 5 minutes. Sigh, this is pointless. A sharp noise cuts the air, making both jump, the smaller not so much, fingers fumbling with the object of annoyance. Margret... She wants to go out tonight... Oh hell yeh, you're going bro... "Margret invited us out, I dunno if you wanna go..." No response except the sound of closet doors opening, clothes rustling and the springs of a trampoline bending once more... This is gonna be a long night...

Pink lips and a red miniskirt, damn she's fucking hot. Dancing in the bright lights, bodies fucking everywhere and the smell of weed so strong, it'd knock Skips out cold for a month. "What's wrong Mordi, A-am I not e-enough fun for yaaaaaa..." She's fucking drunk too, there's some many possibilities. Her lips are on his neck, her chest on his, oh he's horny but he's not into it like he should be. Usually her drunk kisses make him hard, make him feel like a man but today he's just wondering what's wrong with his somber looking friend at the end of the bar. A petite asian girl with two-toned hair walking up to him, he could clearly read her accent from her lips and his blood boiled as he watched him smile at her quirkiness. Wait, blood boiling. Fuck? She giggling by now and he's watching her twirl her cotton candy pink and blue hair, batting her false green eyes and wonders what the fuck is she doing? Wait, why do you care? Cause he's my bro? And with that thought, she's gone, the drunk woman on his crotch still going at it, his eyes meet with his and the world stops for five seconds. He sees brown, but not just any brown a nutmeg type brown with specks of gold and a ring of blue on the outskirts. Wait, the fuck is going on? He drunk something, yeh that's it. And like that, his lips meet with pink ones, the supple skin of Margret overriding any sense and his lust strong. Coming back for air, brushing his hair back before looking up only to see he had vanished, where'd he go?

She's staggering into the apartment, her lips against his, groping at his clothes, a pile by her door before slipping into the bed, she's on top of him, her lips on his neck, biting and sucking before... "Mmmh, Rigby..." Had that slipped out of his lips? Out of his mouth? His lips? "Huh?" Margret staggered to get up before falling off of him, landing on the side of him, asleep in her drunkeness. Mortified, he pulled on the remainder of his clothes, tucking her into bed before slipping out of the apartment and making and dash for home. The keys are in the door, feet staggering on the stairs as he walks to his room, slowing down as he passes Rigby's, the door open a sliver, light snoring coming from his room. Sighing as he walks into his room, stripping down once more before getting in the shower, What the fuck happened tonight? His lips tasted like Moscatto and Ciroc, his mind swam like Michael Phelps and his chest felt like it was on fire. But had he really called out Rigby's name? Really, of all people? Sigh, somethings up... Get out, lay down and lights out.

Chp. 3

It's been a week, no responses anytime he talks to him, nothing. Every insult brushed off, can't even get close enough to punch him. He talks to everyone else but to him, it's like he's the plague. His chest burns and he wonders what's the problem and never could ask. It's a saturday night and it's just them in the house, Rigby in the kitchen, staring off into space, eyes glazed over and he on the sofa with the remote in his hand, his throat dry as he sits up and looks at the smaller. Why is he nervous, talk to the fucker. "D-dude, what's your deal?" Great, you fucking stuttered. No response either, dickwad. "Hello!?" There ya go, get some bass into that voice. "What?" His voice so quiet, he almost missed it but took it and ran with it? "Why the fuck have you been avoiding me?" The taller moves closer, so he can hear, dropping the remote on the sofa before standing close to the counter the smaller is sitting on. "Why does it matter?" Another whisper, this one more distraught, more distant. "Um, Cause you're my bro!" Mordecai, calm your tits... "Oh really, I'm your bro?" Questioning the brohood, that's low bro, ha. "Of course dude, I've known you since you were like 6." Time flies, 6 to 23 huh... from sandboxes to bitches... "A real bro wouldn't invite their "hoe" to brotivities." Hoe to brotivities, the fuck is he on about? Wait, Margret. "Are you talking about Margret?" Yes asshole, who else?

"Who else dickwaffle?" He spat venom, his eyes were tired and his breath reeked of Moscatto at 19:00... Taken aback, his two-toned eyes wide, mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something but nothing came. For the first time in history, Mordecai Sylvester was fucking speechless. "W-why the fuck are you mad about that?" Dumb ass question to ask, strike one. "Why else, you clearly blew me off...f-for some red head who probably will forget about you once she fucks you!" Those words cut like ice, his jaw was tight and his lips were a thin line and the colour of Rigby's eyes became his focal point. Wait, what? "Are you jealous or some shit, i'm not your fucking property!" Oooh, strike two. He winced at the remark, brown eyes faltering slightly before the anger in the renewed with unfound vengence, lips a deep scowl. "But you're her property, you fucking worship the ground she walks on, she's not a fucking deity... she's..." Before he could even register what happened, Rigby was on the floor, jaw clamped down in pain, those nutmeg eyes staring right into his soul... Strike three and you're out... "D-dude... I..." You're stuttering again and you're sweating. "You wanna know why I avoided you...Because i'm losing my best friend to some whore who claims she loves him but sleeps with everyone under the fucking sun and he doesn't even give a shit enough to say he's sorry when he calls me her name when we're talking or will leave me hanging when I needed him most!" Tears and blood hit the floor and all he can do is stare into those pretty brown eyes. "I'm tired of being the fucking third wheel, I'm tired of being dropped like Starla on an amusment park ride."

"I HEARD THAT!" "WHO THE FUCK CARES!.." His mouth was a thin line, his hands trembled and his mind was at 200 miles an hour, what the fuck can happen in 2 seconds? The unknown? "So, go ahead be with the girl who you want more than your bestfriend...don't come whining to me when she give you an st..." That's all he could get out before he was pinned against the fridge, tongue down his throat, hands in his hair and down his pants. Hold the unholy fuck up? What's going on? Pushing at his chest as the taller continued to assault his lips and neck with kisses and bites, he's drunk...yeh that's it... This is a drunk daydream... Lips down his jaw, hands cupping his ass, he has a nice one for someone so small, they're on the floor and he's giving in. He's tired of fighting, he's tired of hiding. Mordecai, Mordecai, MORDECAI! Air... he comes up for it and he looks down at the male under him, neck covered in hickeys and panting ever so nicely, wait... He's gay... No... Bi... Wait fuck?

Chp. 4

Awkwardness has settled and it's sunday morning, after the attack, the both of them running to their rooms and thinking about what the fuck just happened. What did happen? Is Mordo gay, is Rigby? What the fuck? It's 12:00 and Rigby is in the kitchen, neck still covered in bright marks and Mordo is in the living room, looking at the tv before he sighs... this tension is too thick. "Rigby?" No response again, is this shit starting over. "RIGBY!" Assertive times 2. "Hmm?" Those brown eyes look at him again and his throat is dry as fuck and palms are sweaty. "T-talk to me." Moving over slightly so the smaller could sit down, sighing as another pregnant silence settled on them before Rigby breaks it. "So what, what do you want?" Rubbing his neck, not angrily but more gingerly, eyes soft as they look down. "I-i...Look... I'm sorry for what's bee..." A sound cut through his sentence, the ringtone loud and annoying to both. "Lemme guess, it's Margret." His voice holding more malice when it came to her name, his eyes hurt slightly as Mordecai held the phone. Reject... "As I was saying, I'm sorry for what's been going on... I never knew that you didn't want her around...but i'm not sorry about one thing." "And that is?" Damn those brown eyes... "This."

Trapping them under their body, kissing on the already marked neck, his lips bruising the smallers, his nails digging into his back as he gave in, horny thy name is Rigby... Biting and teasing all the while before slowly pulling back, another silence coming over them as they flew apart quicker than they came together. "L-look... when we went clubbing on tuesday...I went home with Margret." Brown eyes fell to the floor and a heart fell with it. Strike one asshole... "She was drunk and she was making out with me..." Heart in the cement with the fossils of dead dinosaurs and eyes closed silently. "B-but before we did anything, I-i... moaned a name...your name..." WHAT! Brown eyes peering up at the older male, whose face was redder that Benson's hair... "It felt...natural...I don't...know...why..." Straddling his waist, lips on his neck and hands in his hair... "I want to hear it...my name..." Kissing and sucking and biting before pulling at the two toned hair, a deep moan erupting from his lips before a name came out almost a whimper... "What was that.?" "R-rigby." Mmmh, delicious... "So, where do we go from here?" Unstraddling him and sitting next to him, restraining himself from leaving more hickeys... "I dunno... to be honest...let's wing it?" The fuck is that? Wing it, ain't that a chicken joint... Pinky extended and a weird promise... "Look, I think I like you... and I know i've been a dick for putting her first but I realized that no girl is worth losing my best friend." Ain't sweet... Come on Rigby, whatcha gonna say? "Okay, another reason I avoided you is because... Ilikedyouforatleastacoupleofyears." Well then Jethro, foward as fuck. "O-oh...Well...I...Do you wanna try this out?" Mordecai, are you feeling alright? "U-uh...sure..." Pinky extended and a weird promise... With a fucking hangover too...

As for Margret, she's banging Eileen...