just one of those self-indulgent nights

***

"Mordecai? what are you..."

"Overdue for a refreshing and long drink."

Mordecai opens the fridge, and takes out a few beer bottles from it, placing them in the middle of the table. He then pulls out his chair, and sits on it, his right arm lazily placed on the top of it.

"c'mere rigby."

It was the first time he saw Mordecai come out of his room in weeks, and it clearly showed through his unkempt look, where his wolf cut mullet had stuck out in the wrong places, and his crusty five-year-old boxers made a reappearance. His white shirt had dried coffee stains, and his eyes were puffy and swollen.

Your still crying over her?

"... you shouldn't be drinking," rigby said, reaching out for the bottles until Mordecai gripped his hand, his resolve for a drink, immoveable.

"Well, I need to. So, either drink with me or go the fuck away."

Mordecai loosened his grip and rigby hastily pulled his hand away, nursing it slow rubs against the skin.

Mordecai had been depressed over Margeret before, but not to the degree rigby had been aware of before. Mordecai had always been the stronger one, the one who could bounce back from any kind of trouble they got themselves in.

But he was never resilient when it came to his lovesickness. His undeserved love for Margeret.

And now, his obsession had started to negatively impact his life, and he's pushing the people that care the most for him.

She really isn't special.

Rigby pulls his own chair, and sits down, taking the beer in his hand.

"I guess I'm going to have to join you then," Rigby said, unscrewing the top and taking a long sip from it. He then smacks his lips and lets out a dramatic sigh, obviously pointed towards Mordecai.

"so, you drinking or what?" pushing the bottle towards mordecai, lifting his eyebrow.

"... Of course I am."

---

"god, my life really sucks," mordecai slurred, finishing the fifth bottle before knocking it to the side.

"Why does it suck," rigby asked, tipping the beer into his mouth.

"B-because, margeret man..."

This guy.

"margeret isn't the only woman in the world," rigby said, and leaned his elbows forward, looking straight at mordecai.

"...y-you will meet someone better."

Mordecai shakes his head and continues his self-deprecation.

"no...no I'm useless with other women, I can't..."

which was partially true. Mordecai wasn't great with women in general, but when he invested his time and energy into one person only, he could be pretty decent at it. Unlike Rigby, he had a lot of potential.

"you aren't..."

"I m-must be if the p-people I like want to leave me."

what about me?

"...not true. pops, benson, skips, high-five ghost and...." listing each with his fingers, becoming more unsure as he named them.

Mordecai scoffs condescendingly and takes another bottle into his hand.

"That doesn't...fuck...count."

"...Why wouldn't it? They're your friends, aren't they?"

If it was a year ago, Rigby would have laughed at the idea of being friends with hardcore stickler Benson, or the sheltered weirdo pops, but once he got to know the whole gang, he started to think of them as a second family.

Not that I would admit this.

And although they tried to get Mordecai out of his slump, he stubbornly remained in his room, and let himself succumb to his own heartbreak.

But Rigby didn't get it. Margeret was just a regular chick.

She doesn't know him like I do.

"... and I'm still here, aren't I?" rigby mumbles, a vulnerable slip of the tongue that he regretted once he said it, as his cheeks grew hot and mordecai sported an unusual emotion on his face.

Fuck me. Fuck...

"Yeah. I guess...that's uf...true."

Mordecai lets go of the beer bottle and stands up, stumbling towards the sink until he gets a hold of the edge, and runs his face off with cold water.

He finally turns the tap off, and turns toward rigby, as his hair blocked his eyes and his damp shirt stuck to his chest. It made for a pitiful sight.

"so...get wasted with me all night alright? I'm counting on you."

but it didn't feel bad that he was only one that could be counted on.

"as long as you don't choke in your own vomit."

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