The Plumbers' headquarters buzzed with its usual chaotic energy. Beings from across the galaxy, clad in varying degrees of Plumber armor, hurried through the hallways, carrying datapads and exchanging urgent whispers. Ben Tennyson, now a seasoned Plumber and a young man of twenty, leaned against a console, a half-eaten chili fry precariously balanced on his lap. “Earth cuisine continues to perplex me,” came a familiar voice. Ben looked up, a grin spreading across his face. Rook Blonko, his partner and close friend, stood beside him, his Revonnahgand features thoughtful. Rook was taller now, his blue fur a shade darker than when they first met as teenagers. He still wore his traditional Proto-Tool, but there was a new confidence in his posture, a quiet strength that radiated from him. “Perplex you? Dude, it’s a chili fry! It’s designed to be delicious, not…logical,” Ben chuckled, offering Rook the remaining portion. Rook politely declined. “My digestive system is still processing the previous Earth delicacy you insisted I sample. The…'corn dog,' I believe it was called?" He shuddered subtly. Ben laughed, popping the rest of the fry into his mouth. “Alright, alright. No more corn dogs for Rook Blonko. So, what brings you to this corner of the chaos, partner?” Rook straightened, his usual stoic demeanor softening slightly. “I was merely…observing you. It has been several cycles since we last had a moment to engage in…unstructured conversation.” Ben raised an eyebrow. “Unstructured conversation? You mean, like, talking about stuff that doesn't involve alien invasions or plumber protocols?” “Precisely.” Rook nodded. “I find that such interactions are crucial for maintaining team cohesion and…friendship.” “Sure, friendship,” Ben said, a teasing glint in his eye. He’d known for a while that his feelings for Rook ran deeper than just friendship. He suspected Rook felt the same, but neither of them had ever explicitly addressed it. Their bond was built on years of trust, shared adventures, and a deep respect for each other. The idea of jeopardizing that with a clumsy confession had always held him back. “Alright, Rook,” Ben said, standing up and tossing the empty fry container into a nearby receptacle. “What’s on your mind? Spill.” Rook hesitated, adjusting his Proto-Tool. “There is a documentary airing on intergalactic history. It focuses on the early Proto-Tool users and their impact on universal stability. I thought…perhaps…you might find it…engaging.” Ben stifled a laugh. That was Rook's way of asking him on a date. A very, very Rook-like way. “History, huh? Sounds…riveting,” Ben said, playing along. “But you know me, Rook. I’m more of an action guy. Maybe we could spice things up a bit? How about we grab a smoothie at that new place down the street? ‘Galactic Gulp,’ I think it’s called. I hear they have a smoothie that tastes like pure energy.” Rook’s eyes widened slightly. He wasn't used to Ben taking the lead in this kind of situation. "A…smoothie? That is…unexpected. But…acceptable." And so, they found themselves walking down the bustling streets of Bellwood, a bizarre duo in a world that was slowly getting used to bizarre duos. Ben, in his worn jeans and signature green jacket, walked with a casual swagger. Rook, in his Plumber uniform, walked with precise, measured steps, his gaze constantly scanning their surroundings. The “Galactic Gulp” was as loud and vibrant as its name suggested.. Ben led Rook to a relatively quiet corner booth. “Two ‘Cronkkams,’ please!” Ben called out to the tentacled bartender. As they waited, an awkward silence settled between them. Ben tapped his fingers on the table, suddenly finding himself nervous. He’d been fighting aliens since he was ten, but the vulnerability of admitting his feelings to Rook felt more daunting than any intergalactic battle.

Rook cleared his throat. “Ben, I have been analyzing our outings and realised you're taking me out to romantic places are you... doing it to humor me...or do you also have a crush on me