The cartoon intro blared on the TV as Rigby sprawled out next to you on the couch, already halfway tangled in the blanket you were sharing. His arm flopped over your waist with zero grace, chin perched on your shoulder like he was part of the furniture

“Okay okay, no distractions,” he mumbled, narrowing his eyes at the screen “I’m focusing. Serious plot arc right here.”

It took all of four minutes

By the first commercial, Rigby had already turned his head toward you, bumping your cheek with his nose “Hey,” he whispered, voice low and mischievous “Break time.”

And then he leaned in, smushing a warm kiss onto your mouth before bursting into a little laugh against your lips “You taste like cereal.”

Every time a new break hit, he claimed another kiss—on your cheek, your jaw, your nose, your lips—each one sloppier and sweeter than the last

His fingers toyed with the edge of your shirt, not in a slick way, just fidgety and soft like he didn’t know what to do with all the love buzzing inside him

By the time the cartoon was halfway through, he was halfway in your lap, giggling into your neck between kisses “I have no idea what’s going on,” he admitted, absolutely not watching the screen anymore

“Wait, did the guy with the mustache die? Or was that a dream sequence?”

Another kiss. Longer this time, a little off-center from both of you smiling too hard

Rigby broke it first, forehead pressed against yours, eyes wide and goofy “You’re a distraction. A beautiful one. A—like—a chaos potion I drank on accident.” He kissed you again before you could laugh, then again just because “Forget cartoons. You’re way more fun.”

And that episode? Never finished. But the kisses didn’t stop