Hello! Since "Hungry" turned out more successful than any other one-shot I ever did, I decided that people much really like RxM, which I like too, (It's good to see people with my likes!) so to make people happy, instead of continuing "Hungry", because that was a simple two-shot, nothing major, I wanted to make a mini-fic. In Mordecai's POV, since he's my favorite. This mini-fic is going to focus on MxR, but going to have more fandom yaoi. And… This will have a MxM "fuck buddy" thing like Hungry did, but whatever. It's interesting, don't you think? (: I hope you enjoy.

"Rigby, wake up." I mumbled, shaking him. Benson has already called out three times. "Fuck, Rig, let's go." He turned over and squinted at the time.

"You're such a pessimist. We have fifteen more minutes." He muttered, trailing off. Maybe I was being pessimistic. I pushed him away and got back into bed, but I didn't sleep. I never slept these days. I always had something or someone to think about. Usually it was my girlfriend. Or, my fuck buddy. Outside of the making out every so often, daytime was usually the same as it ever was. The regular thing was that she'd make coffee at the park some days, and when she didn't (I needed to get a glimpse of her everyday; I was obsessed with her) I'd drag Rigby to the café, and she wouldn't look at me much, but talk to me from the other side of the room.

She was so easy to obsess over, but I wasn't easily obsessive. I never obsessed over video games, or something, or someone, but Margaret was such an amazing sight, and an amazing person in general. But at night, all I did was feel, and when she began to have a more lustful look in her eyes - that's when I become obsessive.

"Mordecai, fifteen minutes is up." Rigby yawned at my side. He tugged on my hand. I rose and looked at the clock. Perhaps I was being pessimistic, but I ran. "Mordecai, wait up," Rigby trailed behind me.

I reached the stand. "Morning, Benson." He wasn't red, but he wasn't his usual color today. Pops was standing next to him, ready to hand me my daily lollipop. I muttered a quiet "thank you" and walked over to the food stand. Seconds later Rigby arrived, but I didn't say anything.

It was a regular day. No one was here, so I leaned way back in my chair and began to think. What about Rigby? I asked myself. Rigby wasn't particularly fond of Margaret. In fact when he found out of my affairs he couldn't look at me for some time. It was a long time. I missed him so easily, but I would never admit that to myself. I'd never admit that when I couldn't sleep (or more precisely, I didn't want to sleep) I'd watch him on his trampoline. It interested me, how the second he went on his bed, he instantly fell asleep. I liked how deeply he breathed. It was so irregular. Up, down, down, up, up…

"Dude, Mordecai." Rigby knocked on my head. "Don't leave me hanging. Look at the line." Maybe I'm being optimistic, and he's being the pessimistic one. There were five people in line. Or five groups of people in line.

We gave the first three groups what they wanted. The fourth person in line was alone, a particularly beautiful robin, that Rigby didn't particularly like. "Hey, uh, Margaret." I emphasized on the 'a' because she emphasized the 'ai' in my name on our nights.

"Hi, Mordecai." She didn't say this especially lustfully, but there was a little bit of seduction in her eyes, and I became obsessed again. For a nano-second I wanted to hold and touch her right then, in front of everyone. She pecked me on the cheek and whispered something in my ear, but all I was focusing on was her hot lips on my lobe. This was cruel. When she drew away, I felt a stinging sort of pain. I was far too obsessed. "Just a bag of chips," she muttered, "Doritos. Please." I grabbed the bag and handed it to her. She gave Rigby exactly ninety-nine cents and then left.

Swaying her ass as she walked, too. Rigby whispered in my ear, "You saw her tits, right?" I chuckled, "Hell yeah."

We assisted the final group, and I sat back down in my chair. It wasn't obsession that I wanted my girlfriend with me all the time, was it? Or was it obsession that I wanted my fuck buddy with me all the time? It was obsession that I watched my best friend sleep, or at least I watched his chest.

My best friend. The guy who decided to get me into smoking and the guy who got into so much shit when he smoked that I had to make him quit, and I ended up quitting myself. He's a pain in the ass, but I can't abandon him, even if I wanted to. He's not particularly normal, but he's not really weird, just crazy. But here's the weird thing: he'd crawl into bed with me sometimes. But only on the colder nights, when it snowed. He wouldn't let himself touch me in any way, he just needed some blanket, or perhaps he needed someone to keep him company. I didn't care much, this way it was much easier to watch him sleep.

I'm a little psychotic. But not a lot. Besides my obsession with being obsessed, I'm pretty regular. I'm 23, I have a job, a best friend, and a girlfriend (or a job, a best friend, and a fuck buddy).

Rigby. I don't know how he's my best friend. He's crazy and stupid. But mostly crazy. And very obsessive. Over little things. Like video games, things, and people. He knows I love him either way, because he's my brother. We've known each other since sophomore year. He was a wanna-be cool kid, and I was average. We were lab buddies. He hated me. He hated how I was taller and how everyone was my friend. I was quick to invite him into my circle of friends. He shrugged it off on the first day, replying with a simple, "Maybe", but the more we saw each other, the more he decided that I was a cool kid to hang around. He started calling me "bro" and "man" and by the time we graduated high school we were the best of friends. We got the same job for that reason, and moved in together, since it would be easier to pool our money together to pay for rent.

Benson was easy on us when we were new. We moved to a regular town, and worked for a regular food stand in a regular park. Well, mostly regular town. There are some crazy people there. The drunks, and Skipps, and Pops. Mostly Pops. No one can be that nice. Besides Pops, I mean. He likes lollipops, and pays me in them. Benson pays me in cash. It's not a lot, but it's not bad. The park is a pretty popular place. I guess. People aren't obsessed with it. We have regulars, but we also have irregulars.

I keep getting told that this town was regular, that this park was regular. People came here and left. And there was a playground for the kids. To me it still seems kind of regular, except for when Rigby and I screw up, because when we screw up, it's anything but.