"Dude, bro! You have to come tonight! It's The Battle of the Bands!" Muscleman explains frantically at Benson who is concentrated on his inventory.

"Not this time, Muscleman. It's month end and I need to get everything in the park counted and I need to organize the payroll for Mr. Maellard. If I don't get this stuff done, he'll have me by the neck," Benson explains a bit tiredly.

"Aw, what? Just have your dumb lackey do it! That's what he's getting paid for," Muscleman says angrily.

"Watch it," Benson warns. "This is the manager's job. Besides, Mordecai is with Skips getting the alignment checked out on the cart. Can't imagine why the tires are off," Benson says a bit sarcastically, knowing full well it was because of Muscleman doing donuts with it.

"You know who else throws off the alignment like that while doing sick, hardcore donuts?" Muscleman asks.

Benson sighs and stares at Muscleman, "Your mom?"

Muscleman is about to open his mouth to answer, but realizes Benson already said it. He frowns and walks away, "Whatever. I know you want to come tonight. One night won't kill you, bro."

After Muscleman leaves, Benson frowns to himself. He's actually been waiting for this night for months. When he found out it was on the day of month end he was devastated. He had gotten a call from the guys and they invited him to play a set at the event. They promised him a drum solo and everything. He already tried Maellard too. He was appalled he would even ask him a stupid question like that. Now, here he was; counting bags of bird seed for Pops' bird feeders.

It isn't two minutes later after the event with Muscleman when Rigby zooms past him and rushing around the room like he's had too much sugar. It looks like it's his life mission to count every single thing that's in Benson's eye sight.

Benson looks overwhelmed by Rigby's behavior, "Rig…! R-Rigby! Rigby, stop!" His order falls of deaf ears and, now he's upset. He explodes, "Rigby, stop or you're FIRED!"

Rigby stops mid-step and almost falls over from the abrupt and erratic order. "B-but Mordecai ordered me to count everything for you. He threatened to fire me," Rigby says in a small voice. His eyes blow when he realized, "Whoa, PARADOX!"

"Mordecai… ordered you…?" Benson looks utterly confused, "Where is he!?" Benson was furious. Why would he order Rigby to do his job? All he wanted was peace and quiet while he did his mind numbing task that was going to last until way after the show tonight.

"He-he's with Skips, fixing the—"

Benson cuts him off because he knows where he is. He's just pissed. The angered boss marches himself over to Skips' place and he's fuming red.

Mordecai doesn't look like he's doing much. Just talking and laughing with Skips as the yeti is working under the hood of the cart. When Mordecai sees Benson stomping over to them, he swallows hard and wonders what he could have possibly done this time. "H-hey, Benson…" Mordecai's voice is weak, but he tries his best to sound pleasant.

Benson lets loose on Mordecai. He's screaming and shouting about Mr. Maellard and Rigby and Muscleman and the cart and the Battle of the Bands and inventory along with month end. He lets it all out in a proverbial spewage of stress and anger and dumping it all into Mordecai's lap (metaphorically). It all ends with him breaking down and crying and almost collapsing in front of them.

Skips eyes Mordecai and discretely skips away from the two, noting to fix the cart at a better time.

Mordecai glares at Skips because he totally just left Benson with him as an emotional mess. He didn't really know what to do. He could have really used Skips and his advice right about now. He breathes and takes Benson by the shoulders. When he gets a closer view of Benson hiccupping on his own sobs, he shakes his head and pulls him into a hug, "Come here, dude." Benson's crying into his chest and he kind of stands there and lets him get it all out first.

Benson finally settles down and stands there, liking the comforting gesture of Mordecai holding him securely.

"Now, tell me what's wrong," Mordecai says when he sees Benson quiet down.

Suddenly, nothing really mattered. Not even the Rigby thing. He was just angry at Maellard for not giving him the day off. "I can't go to the Battle of the Bands tonight," Benson explains sadly, almost child-like.

Mordecai blushes because, Jesus, that was so cute. Benson was so freaking vulnerable and he's showing him this side of him without hesitation. "Says who?" Mordecai asks.

"Mr. Maellard…" Benson grumbles.

"You know what I say to that?" Mordecai states in a triumphant voice. He pulls away and does a few dance moves as he raps, "Maellard is a fool, This job ain't no school! If Benson wants to play, let him play all day! Buh-dum scth! Bah-bah-bah Bum stch! Are we wokin' hard or hardly work-in', Ain't nobody gunna be lurkin'. Be back before the punch out time and there won't be no crime!" Mordecai crosses his arms over his chest and waits for Benson to respond.

"No," is all Benson says. "I can't just sneak off and go. I'll get fired."

"Aw, come on, dude. I'll cover for you. Trust me. No one will know," Mordecai explains.

This is where Benson stands with all of his weight on one leg, pops his hip out, and crosses his arms across his chest, "No one's going to notice me on stage playing the most intricate drum solo on the planet in front of thousands of people?"

"Thousands?" Mordecai asks.

"THOUSANDS!"

"Well, uh… No big deal. We can keep it a secret from Maellard. I bet he doesn't listen to that stuff anyway. He'll never know," Mordecai explains a bit too overconfident than he should.

Benson has a scowl on his face, but it melts into something a little less intense, "You think so?"

"Dude, I know so. You showed me how to count this stuff like a ba-gillion times. Me and Riggs got your back. Trust us," Mordecai pats his chest and lifts an eyebrow.

Benson has a thoughtful look on his face. It turns into a smile as he pulls out his cell. "Hey, Oggy? Get my kit ready."

"Yea-UH!" Mordecai cheers.

"Shhh! I'm on the phone!" Benson seethes.

"Oops. Sorry," Mordecai says in a quieter tone and adds a small, "yeah-uh."

-

"Ughhhhh! I don't know how much more of this I can take! I'm so booooooored!" Rigby whines barely counting the paint cans in front of him, "Manual labor is haaaaaard."

Mordecai glares, "Dude. That isn't manual labor. That's counting six paint cans. Now, hurry up and write this stuff down or we'll miss the show."

Rigby blinks, "What show?"

"Benson's show. Are you brain dead, dude? He's playing with Hair to the Throne," Mordecai explains.

"Since when are we going? We're supposed to be here covering for Benson," Rigby questions.

"Yeah, but I really want to see it!"

"Benson will kill you if he finds out you're there," Rigby states, suddenly being the rational one (which is scary).

"Dude, Benson won't find out I'm there and Maellard won't find out Benson is there. Everyone wins," Mordecai says with a happy "hm hm."

"That sounds like a terrible idea." Again, Rigby's rationale is creepily on target. "Dude, stop thinking with your joystick and more with your brain meat. Benson would never forgive you if you get him fired. He loves his job."

Mordecai frowns, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you're totally right."

Rigby sighs in relief.

"That's why you're staying and covering for me and Benson. So, if you fail he'll be mad at you not me," Mordecai shoves his clipboard in Rigby's face and heads for the door.

"What the heck, Mordo! I'm supposed to leave you and go out and do something stupid not the other way around!" Rigby shouts, but doesn't get a response. He stares at the six paint cans and groans, "One… Two… Three…"

-

Mordecai blends into the crowd of people waiting for the band to start. He's so excited he can hardly contain himself. He can't wait to start smacking people across the head when Benson comes out and telling them he's dating that quarter cranking drum god.

When the lights blaze to life and the lasers fly across the sky, the crowd gets super rowdy. There's already crowd surfers and most pits as the guitars screech to life. When Benson and his drum kit rise from the ground on an escalated platform, pyro flares around him. He's standing up two drumsticks in hand, "Who's ready for Hair to the Throne!"

Mordecai howls with everyone in the crowd, pumping his fist in the air. Mordecai bites his lip because he can see Benson's slot hanging just above his tight, leather pants. The jumbo tron has Benson's face and he's staring out at the crowd with half lidded eyes, and he totally wants to get him in bed tonight.

The crowds starts chanting, "Ben-Son! Ben-Son!"

Benson smiles and speaks into the mic again, "Who wants to see Benson!?"

The crowd goes crazy and the crack of the drumstick is heard from all the way in the cheap lawn seats. The set starts and it's just a mess of sweaty bodies and music pumping through the speakers. It's the best moment of Mordecai's life. He dances with anyone who wants to dance and starts moshing with other people bumping into him. He's all too excited when he's pulled up to go crowd surfing, then realizes that this is way too risky.

Benson is in the middle of his epic drum solo when his eyes glance at the crowd briefly. A drumbeat is delayed when he sees Mordecai's form. His face fumes and finishes with a literal bang, but much more controlled this time around. When Benson returns to the mic, he has a little less life in him. He gives Mordecai the 'We need to talk' eyes.

-

He slams the blue jay into the wall of his dressing room, "Are you serious!?"

"I couldn't help it, I really wanted to see you play," Mordecai says sadly.

"Yeah, he just wanted to see ya play, Ben," Oggy tries to defend.

"Shut up. Shut! Up! You aren't part of this conversation!" Benson explodes.

"Oi, take it easy. I mean, he didn't mean any harm by it. He just wanted to see his love rock it out, amiright?" Oggy tries to comprehend.

"Exactly!" Mordecai exclaims, feeling like he's home free.

Benson's eyes say otherwise. "No, you aren't right! I could be out of a job!" He turns his attention back at Mordecai, "You promised me!" This time, there's a lot more hurt and betrayal than anger.

"From the sounds of it, that job doesn't make you happy. Rocking out does. Hair to the Throne has really made a huge come back. I'd love to go on tour with you again, Ben. All of us would," Oggy says, holding out to worn drumstick at Benson.

Benson looks up at his lead singer, then down at the drumsticks. He looks like he's about to take them, then shakes his head. "No! I gave that dream up years ago!" Benson pushes passed him and heads to the door, "I have to get back to the park before anything else happens."

"You aren't still hung up on her are you? That was years ago," Oggy says.

Mordecai stares at the back of Benson's head with confusion, "Her?"

"Veronica," Oggy's tongue slips.

Benson's fist hits the wall and breaks the drywall, "We agreed to not say that name ever again." Benson's voice sounds calm, but he's actually so red with rage there's steam rising from his glass framing.

"What happened, dude," Mordecai said carefully. Whatever it was to make Benson like this must have been bad. He's seen the guy mad, but a raging calm was new.

"Everything was for her…" Benson's fist falls limp to his side. He looks at Mordecai from over his shoulder and stares with sad eyes, "I was never in it for the fame and money. None of that mattered to me. I gave up everything for her, but she was never satisfied."

Mordecai is silent. He wants to tell him he's more than satisfied. He wants to tell him he's even happy with him being a park manager. He didn't care. He loved Benson unconditionally.

"I craved her satisfaction. When I didn't get it, I filled it with something else. Something that almost ended everything," Benson says lowly.

"Oi, don't tell the kid that. He doesn't need to know that," Oggy interjects.

"No, tell me. I want to know," Mordecai says.

Benson smiles sadly, "I got too caught up in the party life. I couldn't stop. I can't join the band again. I like being park manager. It gave me purpose and structure. Fame just tore me down. I abused soda and poprocks."

Mordecai frowns and swallows thickly. That stuff tears up your stomach and leaves you with one mad sugar high. He wouldn't know firsthand, but he's heard about it. "I'm sorry about all of this. Let's get you back," Mordecai takes Benson by the arm and guides him out.

Benson pulls his arm away, but continues to walk, "It's okay if you don't want to do this anymore."

"Are you kidding? I love you, dude. Like, yeah I get it. You did some crystallized candy and carbonated chugging. It happens, but you know what's super impressive? You don't do it anymore! That's something to be proud of. I know I'm super proud of that," Mordecai says with his arms outstretched for him.

Benson is nearing tears because Mordecai really was satisfied with anything. He slowly walks up to the blue jay and hugs him tight, "Thank you." His voice is muffled by Mordecai's chest.

Mordecai sighs and holds him back. "What am I going to do with you," he whispers through a laugh.

"There's a few things I can name," Benson's attitude changes and he's smirking up at Mordecai.

"Keep the tight leather on tonight," Mordecai's hand curves to Benson's ass.

Oggy turns away, feeling like he needs to bleach his eyes.

-

When they get back, the inventory papers are placed neatly on the desk. It doesn't look like Rigby got past three paint cans before Skips had to butt in and do the rest. When Maellard arrives moments later to retrieve it, the boss seems pleased.

"Good work Bean-Sin and Mando-Brow," Mr. Maellard says the closest compliment they're ever going to get. Everything seems peachy until he slaps a Hair to the Throne band shirt onto the desk. "There is something I need to ask before I leave," his voice sounds intimidating. He pulls out a sharpie and hands it to Benson, "Can I have your autograph?"

Benson takes the marker in his hand and hesitates to write on it, "Y-You know?"

Maellard crosses his arms on his chest, "Depends. Sign that shirt and I'll pretend like it didn't happen… Benson."

Benson goes red in the face and signs his name on it, "Yes, sir!" He hands the piece of merch back and smiles.

"Wait until the boys at the limousine races hear about this. They'll never believe I got THE Benson's signature," Maellard laughs to himself. When he sees the two are still there, he lowers his brow, "What are you waiting for? I'm not paying you two low-lives to stand around all day! Clock out and get out of here!"

"Y-yes, sir," Benson says a bit less confident this time and rushes out the door.

"Who would have thought Maellard was a Hair to the Throne fan," Mordecai says with a nervous laugh.

"I guess I lucked out," Benson says rubbing the back of his neck. As they get into the car, Benson feels Mordecai's hand on his leg. His face heats up instantly. "What are you-?" He's silenced by Mordecai's mouth as his hand travels south. Benson is still snug in his pants and Mordecai pops the button. "Stop!" The little force that was keeping his slot closed was released and now he's wide open for Mordecai.

"You never wanted to try car sex?" Mordecai asks, his tongue licking the inside of the slot door.

Benson's hands grab the first things he can find: the head rest and steering wheel. "N-not in front of my work!" Benson whines at the warm feeling of Mordecai's mouth. It's when he feels the muscle enter inside him, that the hand that's gripping the armrest is covering his mouth and he's trying not to cry out. He can practically feel Mordecai churning the gears inside of him with his tongue and releasing the gumballs through his body. They rolls and turn inside him and he's too turned on to care where they are anymore. "That's it…" He encourages as his hand slides up to his crank, twisting it and building up the pressure inside him.

"Mmmm…" Mordecai moans when he can taste a small sample of bubble mint. The gumballs are threatening to fall into the chamber. Mordecai goes in deeper licking at the sugary balls lodged between quivering gears. It rolls back up, then down with each movement of his tongue before his hand reaches for the crank. His fingers graze the cool metal, then twists. The gears give way finally releasing his prize.

Benson's head falls back as he lets out a loud cry, releasing a hot, sticky mess between them. He looks down at Mordecai who has a gumball between his lips and Benson leans down to capture his mouth. The sugary piece of candy passes between their mouths, tasting the flavor of sugar high and arousal.

Mordecai pushes Benson against the driver's side door and fights for the object. His tongue dips in, sucking hard against Benson's lips. He steals the gumball away and chews at it victoriously. He smirks and blows a bubble.

"You're unbelievable…" Benson says breathlessly. It isn't exactly an insult.

"And you're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted," Mordecai says and he's dead serious this time.

Benson's only response is to swallow. When he does up his pants again, he swears they're three times smaller than they were before. His slot door is threatening to open again and being held down by the waist. He's so embarrassed. "What if someone came out and saw us…"

"Did they?" Mordecai asks, eying Benson's pants.

"Not this time," Benson seethes.

"So, you're promising other times!?" Mordecai asks with excitement.

Benson lets out a high pitched moan and his pants pop open by the force of his slot. He pushes it down again and gives Mordecai a look, "This is the first and last time! Don't get used to it!"

The next night, they do it in the car again and Benson ends up riding on top.