Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Sheesh, what’s taking him so long to come down?” Fry impatiently tapped his foot on the apartment stoop. The sky was a palette of soft orange and cerulean blue, the evening creeping up on the daylight sneakily. “What if he forgot—“

"He didn’t forget that we’re meeting at Elzar’s, meatbag!” Bender angrily interrupted. “Can’t a man get well-coiffed?”

“Your bow-tie is crooked.” Fry pointed to the robot’s outfit. His LED optics exasperatedly darted down and quickly readjusted his blue tie. 

“I do think I look like the bee’s knees, thanks for asking.” He retorted sarcastically. “I was talking about Crow, dingus.” 

“I just don’t get why you’re wearing a full tuxedo.” 

“There are few times where I go out of my way to rent, and in turn, steal a tux. Going to Elzar’s is one of them.” He looked at his metal digits and moved them around daintily. 

“Out of all the fancy restaurants in New New York City, we go to Elzar’s the most. What makes this time any different?” Fry wondered. His best friend was quite the wild card, but even then his disbelief wasn't often suspended. 

Bender refused to answer, feeling himself warm up. He wore his best suit in hopes of impressing Crow, viewing their outing as a date. “Well...maybe I—“ His human compadre squinted in suspicion. “Maybe I just wanted to dress nice!” He snapped hurtfully. On the brink of erupting into a monologue about how he can’t do anything nice for himself without being interrogated, the front door to the apartment building opened.

"My ears are ringing, so that must mean I’m being talked about!” 

It was Crow, standing in the middle of the doorway, his furry fists on his hips, right paw holding a white clutch purse. He sported a button-up Hawaiian shirt with a white base and a pattern of colorful flowers and leaves, securely tucked into black slacks. Thanks to the small heels on his ankle boots, his short stature was improved by a smidgen. His hair was parted to the left, doused in Shea butter hair product.

“Took you long enough!” Fry sighed. 

“You’re looking quite sharp.” Crow complimented the human. “Is that a clip-on tie?”

“...Maybe.” He scratched the back of his head, ashamed.

“Don’t feel bad, I don’t know how to tie a tie either.” The lemming turned his head to look at Bender, who was anxiously messing with his bow tie. “You look great!” He shyly giggled, his face becoming hot. 

“Already knew that, but thanks for the extra validation.” He said vainly, concealing his elation that his scheme worked. Fry scanned Crow’s outfit and raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m not so sure about that, Crow.” He doubtfully scratched his chin. “I like your style, but Elzar’s is very formal. Your look might be a little too vintage.”

"I don’t think customers or employees are going to be bugged out by a button-up shirt, Fry.” Crow snorted. “I get it. I look like I’m an extra on Miami Vice—“

“But he looks damn good doing it!” Bender hopped in defensively. “You wish you had a wardrobe like his.” Crow’s face turned a bright red hearing Bender’s compliment. 

“I wasn’t going to finish my sentence with that, but thanks!” He compulsively fluffed his hair up with his left hand, flattered by Bender’s infrequent praise. 

“Let’s get going.” Fry walked down the concrete steps and the street while his co-workers followed. While Bender’s walking speed was steady and in sync with his human friend, Crow’s stride was more rapid, the heels of his shoes clicking in a rhythmic step. “What’s the time, Bender?” 

“Seven fifteen. We got time.” He replied, unconcerned about running late.

“Oh!” Crow gasped in realization, stopping abruptly. “I think the restaurant is ten minutes from here! I always pass by it whenever I get groceries.” He resumed his walk, catching up to Bender.

“I envy you sometimes,” Bender admitted. “You get to walk past Elzar’s on your grocery runs, and I have to take the tubes to get there!” 

“What’s so special about this place anyway? There’s other fine dining in the city, and you haven’t stopped talking about this elusive, Oz-like person that is Elzar.” 

The robot loudly gasped. “You don’t know who Elzar is?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“He’s the greatest chef alive!” Bender gushed.

“Great, now you’ve wound him up.” Fry groaned, sliding his hand down his face. “He practically begged Leela and me to choose this place for dinner tonight.”

“He has his own cooking show where he teaches you how to make incredible, scrumptious breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and desserts!”

“Really?” Crow was intrigued, grabbing the robot’s arm to get his attention that they were turning a corner. 

“I even challenged him in a cooking competition and won. Not many robots can say that.” He gloated.

“Yeah, but it was because you sprinkled water mixed with a couple of drops of undiluted—“ The red-head was cut off by Bender clamping his mouth. Unbeknownst to Crow, Fry and the entire Planet Express lineup despised Bender’s inedible concoctions.

“You’ve never struck me as the culinary type.” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, little bird.” He responded wistfully, his feelings about the lemming sloppily tied in a frayed knot within the confines of his programming. Discombobulated by the nickname he assigned him, Crow stared at the ground for the remainder of the walk. 

“Heads up!” Fry called out. With five minutes to spare, the trio stood at the affluent entrance of Elzar’s Fine Cuisine. 

“Well, it looks expensive,” Crow stated the obvious, still lost in thought over his nickname. He stood in the middle of the pathway to the restaurant, the air breezing past him from Bender and Fry moving ahead. The human opened the door and went out of the lemming’s peripheral vision, while the robot patiently held the door for him. After gathering his thoughts, he cleared his throat and stepped forward to the entrance, directly next to Bender. “I like to cook and bake, too.” He tilted his head while looking at the automaton, smiling softly. 

“Heh.” Bender gaffed. “That’s one more thing we have in common.” The clueless lovers waltzed to the dinner table, internally dreading the hypothetical questions their colleagues have about what happened the night before.

Chapter Text

“Where’s Fry?” Crow asked, nervously looking around the fine dining facility.

“Don’t worry. Just follow me.” Bender advised. Cautiously walking past waiters holding plates of aromatic eats, they turned a hard right to a part of the restaurant dedicated to large parties. Occupying one of the round tables was the Planet Express crew, all but one adhering to the dress code of dainty dresses and lavish formal wear. Like always, Professor Farnsworth was in his traditional lab garb. Some relatively unfamiliar faces to Crow were Hermes Conrad, a bureaucrat working for Planet Express, Amy Wong, an intern, and Dr. Zoidberg, the Decapodian staff doctor. While he knew their names and what they looked like, he didn’t talk to them outside of saying hello while placing packages into the ship for delivery. 

“Hi, Crow!” Leela greeted him happily. “Sorry for the change in plans. Bender wanted to come here, like always.” 

“It’s no problem. From his rave reviews, I’m excited to see if it lives up to the hype!” Crow said optimistically. 

“I honestly thought you got lost,” Fry remarked bluntly. 

“Knowing you, I would’ve thought you bumped into an employee and spilled hot coffee onto them!” Farnsworth gibed. Hearing the professor make fun of his clumsiness, the lemming slumped in shame. 

“Shmeesh! From what Fry told me, he’s not that clumsy.” Amy rebuked, putting on a pair of small earrings. “I like your outfit, by the way. Very chic!” 

“Thanks, Amy!” Crow smiled, feeling less embarrassed.

“I saved you and Bender a spot next to me,” Fry remarked proudly. Bender sat down next to the human, followed by Crow sitting next to the robot. He was honestly overjoyed to be sitting next to him because he felt like he knew him the best out of the Planet Express lineup. He cleared his throat, attempting to come up with a conversation starter. 

“I only told some of you who I am and where I’m from, so I’ll repeat it for the newer faces. I’m Crow, a lemming from the planet Lemmingland. I was born in New New York, though.”

“So you’re an alien? That’s so cool!” Amy responded excitedly. “I’m from Mars.”

“That’s neat! I graduated from Mars University, but I’d love to go back just to visit!”

“We should organize a group trip there!” Hearing Amy’s suggestion, the table erupted in grunts of approval. 

“I’ve heard the bureaucracy there is impeccably well kept!” Hermes added on. Not wanting to dampen the mood by discussing how it was a nightmare to be a bureaucrat during his planet’s dark ages, thanks to the copious death certificates, the lemming awkwardly smiled and nodded.

“Ah, lemmings,”  Zoidberg began self-assuredly. “The species where their offspring cannibalize their parents.” The table went completely silent while Crow’s jaw dropped in awe. 

“...No?” He uncomfortably disproved. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?” He put Zoidberg on the spot, causing the doctor to uncomfortably open and close his pincers in succession. 

“Pay no mind to him, Crow.” Hermes rolled his eyes at the Decopodian. “Zoidberg thinks he knows everything when in reality all he’s got in his cranium is putrefied squid guts.” 

“I mean… My parents live in New Jersey, so I honestly think cannibalizing them would give them a better life.” The lemming commented facetiously. The diners began to laugh loudly while Bender slammed his fist on the tabletop, convulsing and wheezing in stitches. 

“Bender never laughs that hard at my jokes!” Fry complained. 

“Fry, he laughed so hard he fell to the floor when you told him that you got your foot stuck in a garbage can three days ago.” Leela reminded her jealous co-worker. Noticing his human friend’s awareness of his response to Crow’s quip, he cautiously withdrew from the conversation. The last thing he needed was his best friend asking if he fancied his coworker. 

“So is this the dinner table with the new guy, or am I seeing things?” A new voice to Crow filled his ears. Approaching the edge of the table was a four-armed chef with black hair, purple skin, and a pig-like snout. An audible squeal coming from Bender startled the lemming. 

“Oh my God, it’s Elzar!” He excitedly wiggled in his chair. “Hi, Elzar!” He waved his hand towards the celebrity chef, who ignored his greeting and stepped towards Crow’s seat. 

“So you must be Crow.” He addressed the lemming. “It’s always great to have first-timers come in!” 

“Thank you so much! I’m happy to be here.” He answered politely. 

“How is everyone else doing tonight?” The Neptunian asked, receiving answers varying from “Good!” to “Famished…” 

“I’ll take this young man’s order first. What would you like to drink? Do you want any appetizers?” He asked Crow. 

“I’ll have a glass of rosé. I don’t want any appetizer, but I’m not sure what I want for my entree. What do you have?”

“Excellent question! I recommend the leg of salmon, steamed carrots, Neptunian-slug fricassée, or Neptunian-style gumbo. If you want something on the lighter side, I suggest the cream of—“

“Tell him about tonight’s dinner special!” The sycophant interrupted. 

“Can it, lead-head.” The chef warned with gritted teeth. “If you’re interested in tonight’s special, it’s buggalo Wellington.” 

“Seriously? I’ve always wanted to try that! Is the filet cooked medium rare?” Crow queried eagerly. 

“As medium rare as it can be.”

“I’ll take it!” The lemming answered confidently. The Neptunian walked past Crow and to Fry, who simply ordered a burger. 

“You already know what I want, Elzar,” Bender called out. 

“A knuckle sandwich with extra brass?” The chef answered, his patience with Bender wearing thin. 

“Sterno-niçoise, s’il vous plait.” 

While the rest of Planet Express took their orders, Crow leaned in to talk to Bender quietly, cupping a hand around his mouth. “Is he always that rude to customers?” He whispered. 

“Rude? What makes you say that?”

“Did you not hear the way he was speaking to you?” 

“Well, he’s probably acting like that because of what happened when I worked for him.” He said embarrassedly. 

“You can’t just drop the fact that you worked for him at one point without warning!” Crow yelped. The individuals at the table groaned and facepalmed. 

“Oh God, not this again…” Farnsworth dreaded. 

“Alright, alright! Because I don’t want to bore the meatbags at the table, let’s just say I got a little mad with power and authority and tried to run the kitchen.” He abruptly ended the conversation. He was alarmed by the unnecessary attention he was receiving and wanted to speak as minimally as possible to prevent his colleagues from asking anything about him and Crow. Seeing the employees talk amongst themselves, Bender felt a sense of relief. Crow, who was still interested in what he had to say, tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Was it as devastating as the time you became pharaoh?” The lemming asked. Bender couldn’t help but smile hearing Crow’s voice. 

“Not really.” He answered casually. 

“Christ, Fry! It’s only been five minutes since our food was served and you're already done with your burger?” Crow’s eyes widened while he cut a sizable chunk of the buggalo wellington. 

“All I had today was Slurm flavored ice cream for breakfast and a bag of pork rinds for lunch!” Fry scoffed, his voice muffled as he scarfed down the last bit of his meal. “Lemme guess, you had eggs and bacon with pancakes for breakfast, and a sandwich for lunch.” 

“Actually, I ate stale cereal and frozen macaroni and cheese as my breakfast and lunch,” Crow answered after swallowing his dinner. 

“I’m really glad you like Elzar’s food!” Bender said, taking a spoonful of his robot cuisine. 

“If I had known how good it is here, I would’ve gone sooner! I gotta give you credit.” The lemming cleanly sliced another morsel of the filet, the outer coating of puff pastry emitting a satisfying crunch. 

“What can I say? I’m always right.” He bragged. “Hey, you wanna try some of this niçoise?” He offered the lemming suddenly.

“No thanks. I appreciate the generosity!” He politely declined, somewhat surprised by the robot’s courteousness. Bender, for the most part, was very stingy with his food, and rarely offered any to his crew-mates.

“I don’t think you’re missing much. It’s just high-end robot food.” Leela munched on a forkful of salad. “According to Fry, it tastes good. It did burn his taste buds clean off, though, so his sense of taste was probably warped.”

“You say ‘robot-food’ like it’s a bad thing!” Bender quickly responded offendedly. “We robots like foods that are incredibly hot, high in alcohol content, and have lots and lots of flavors.” 

“Yeah, if the flavor was a giant sack of—“ 

“Shut your trap, file shredder!” Bender cut off Hermes. “You’re just jealous that my culinary skills are better than yours.” While Bender argued over his cooking skills, Crow munched on the last morsels of his dinner, having an occasional sip of wine. 

“My own foot tastes better than—“ 

“How’s everyone’s food?” The elderly professor was interrupted by the Neptunian restaurateur checking up on his patrons. 

“Great!” The table answered satisfyingly. After the chef left the area, Bender’s screaming match with his peers abruptly ended. 

“Hey, Bender. Is there any of that sterno-niçoise left?” Fry asked. 

“Nada.” The robot answered, lighting up a cigar. 

“Damn.” The human grumbled disappointedly. Finishing his wine, Crow got up from the chair. 

“Do any of you know where the restroom is?” He asked hurriedly. 

“Down the hall and to the left.” Bender instantly replied. 

“Thanks! I won’t be long.” He exited the perimeter of the dining table and made his way to the bathroom. The table hushed while they watched Crow leave the perimeters. Once the lemming was out of sight, Amy looked to her left and right. 

“Are we all sure he doesn’t know where we’re going after this? She whispered secretively. 

“Our lips are sealed. We’ll tell him when he gets back.” Leela responded calmly. 

“Tell him what?” Bender interrogated smoke pooling out of his mouth. 

“We’re taking him to The Hip Joint for some more drinks and to party!” Farnsworth declared. Bender stared at the walkway that led to the bathroom, his anxiety levels starting to rise. Going to the nightclub meant being around Crow, and being around Crow meant he would have to dance with him, and dancing with him meant a dozen eyes would be clocking him, wondering what the hell was going on between the two.

“What’s the matter, Bender?” The ginger asked, giving the distraught robot a nudge. “Aren’t you excited to dance and get lucky with some fem-bot?” He quickly turned his head, his LED pupils contracting in shock. All he wanted was to go back to the night before, where he and Crow traveled through the tubes and walked back from his fall, arm-in-arm in the dead of night. His lenses desperately searched for the moon, so high and far away from him, yet so close that it destroyed him on the inside. He let the cigar naturally burn out before dropping in the dish below him, the clouds of smoke slowly tapering in the air in an almost hypnotic manner. He only had eyes for Crow, and he knew exactly where to go for the moon and his star to be alone together. 

“...I—I’m gonna go check on Crow. He’s been in there for a long time.” He said blankly before instantaneously jetting to the restroom. They watched him frantically run to the men’s room, oblivious to his rationale. 

“He’s only been gone for three minutes! Clingy, much?” Fry pointed out. “...Unless robot time is different than human time.” Leela rolled her eye at Fry’s silly comment. 

“Maybe he just feels guilty for jumping off the cliff yesterday and putting Crow through hell.” She speculated without further elaboration. 

“Why would he be guilty?” Obtaining no reply, the delivery boy watched the ship captain finish her salad in a bewildered stupor. Something about how Bender was behaving troubled him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Not wanting to spend the rest of his night ruminating, he took a deep breath and stretched his arms, looking forward to an evening of dancing. 

Chapter Text

“Hey!” A familiar, distinct voice echoed in the quiet bathroom stall. Crow, who was in the midst of washing his hands, felt his heart jump in surprise. “You in there?” He panted. Turning the knob of the sink to shut it off, Crow slowly observed the door. There stood Bender, holding onto the door handle awkwardly, his optics telling a story of spontaneous dinnertime musings. 

“Bender? What are you—” Crow puffed, moving backward to receive paper towels. “Before you say anything, I wasn’t crying in the bathroom stalls.” He casually clarified, speedily drying his hands. “My shirt was just being a bitch to tuck back in.”

“I didn’t think you were.” Bender leaned back on the door and closed shut, his hands behind him. “I’ve only seen Fry do that and it was because he was rejected by some girl.” He giggled mildly, approaching the lemming. “It was pretty funny if you ask me!” Crow squinted at Bender’s typical schadenfreude and bounced his leg nervously, waiting for him to say what was so important. Observing the lemming’s body language, he produced a faux cough, alleviating the silence. The words he wanted to say slipping out of his microprocessors, he fitfully twirled his hands as a means to find what he was looking for. It then dawned on him: Hands. The machine instantaneously took Crow by the wrist, placing his chilly, steel palm in the lemming’s clutches. “Crow,” he said in a hushed voice, swallowing heavily. “I think we should go back to your apartment and ditch the others.”

“Sorry, what?” Crow blinked slowly, alarmed by his proposition. He didn’t think that Bender was insinuating that he wanted to sleep with him, since he would’ve been much more direct about it, but his idea stunned him nonetheless.

“It’ll be fun, I swear! We can have drinks, eat junk food, and watch movies!” While Crow wasn’t opposed to spending time with Bender one-on-one, his proposal was considered premature. 

“First of all, it’s nine forty-five in the evening, so they’ll probably be awake for a couple more hours. Second of all, what if they see us leave at the same time?” Having anticipated Crow’s reservations, Bender grabbed hold of his other paw. Seeing the lemming’s doubt in his pupils, he softly brushed one of his digits over his thumb and caused the alien’s heart to dance. 

“They said they were going to bring you to The Hip Joint once they’re done eating.” He explained. “They won’t be in this area of the city, period!” Crow was entranced by the way the robot carried himself, for it made his most harebrained schemes sound plausible. 

“I don’t dance, but...” He restrained himself from saying yes, for the foreboding concern of his co-workers’ suppositions plagued his mind. 

“Maybe I’m just not wording it right.” Bender murmured. 

“Hm?” 

“I just want to get to know you better under less distressing circumstances, okay?” Bender once again vaguely alluded to the incident he couldn’t forget no matter how hard he tried, where he hurled himself off a cliff edge and was reassembled by the man in front of him. “Are you in or not?” Bender exhorted, unable to bear the silence in the restroom. The lemming exchanged a subtle, yet lively head nod. Leading the way, Bender walked Crow to the bathroom door, hands glued together. Leaving the door askew, the machine popped his head out, his antenna jutting out like a sore thumb. He slowly withdrew his head from the doorway, uncertain of how they could make their getaway. Letting go of him, Crow used his two free hands to jostle his dark green hair until it became a hot mess. He hunched himself over, right hand atop of his abdomen, and feigned a painful groan. The robot’s eyes perked up at Crow’s improvisation.

“I like the way you think, furbag.” Bender placed his arm around the ‘sick’ lemming’s back and opened the door, their escape plan coming to fruition. 

Fry sat at the table picking at his dessert—vanilla ice cream—growing concerned at the extended duration of time his friends were taking in the restroom. “Hey, don‘t you think Bender’s taking too long?” He asked the table. 

“As Leela said, he’s probably apologizing to Crow for what happened yesterday,” Amy replied. 

“He has some empathy, you know.” Leela contributed. “I don’t know why you’re being such a worrywart.”

Fry passive-aggressively slammed the spoon into the bowl. “Are you kidding me? Am I the only one here who thinks—“ He was cut off by the sound of gasps coming from the rest of the table as they watched Crow walk back to the dinner table, slumped over in excruciating pain.

“Oh, my God. What happened?” Leela quickly rose from her seat, her male friend following her. Zoidberg, Hermes, Amy, and Farnsworth quietly speculated.

“He must’ve slipped on some urine in the men’s room.”

“I heard that, geezer!” Bender called out the scientist. “Crow is a bit under the weather, so I’m taking him home. With his permission, of course.”

“I was going to tell him not to eat so fast!” Hermes remarked, unhappy that he didn’t vocalize his warning. 

“Sorry, Hermes.” Crow winced deceivingly. Dr. Zoidberg slowly raised one of his pincers, trying to offer help, only to be shot down by Bender with a death stare. While the doctor sulked in his chair, Amy rummaged through her purse and found a small foil package. 

“Take this.” she approached Crow and held it out in her palm. “It’s a pill that helps with an upset stomach.” Crow’s dramatic hand staggered to grab the capsule, placing it in his back pocket. 

“Thanks, Amy.” He stared at the group of diners. “Sorry for—“ his sentence was interrupted by another yelp. “ruining this dinner.”

“No need to apologize,” Leela said warmly. “You’re still invited to dinners with us in the future.”

“Jesus Christ, you guys are dramatic! He’s not dying.” Bender commented barbarously. “Let’s get you home. I’ll get a couple of ginger ales, too.” The lemming staged a weak nod and the two walked out of Elzar’s glorious restaurant with grace. The commotion at the dinner table settled and the Planet Express employers resumed picking at their desserts. 

“Leela, look!” Fry pointed to Bender and Crow’s spaces at the table. A considerably large stack of cash was left between their plates. “Bender paid for himself and Crow.”

“ Or he could’ve paid just for himself and left a bigger tip by mistake.” Leela inferred. “He was in quite a hurry when he went to the bathroom.” Fry slid down the chair, his arms crossed in annoyance that nobody was listening to him. 

“So what were you saying earlier?” Amy addressed the deliveryman. 

“...Nothing.”

Bender and Crow continued their act until they were around the corner of Elzar’s. Eyeing their surroundings and then each other, they exited their poses. They stood motionless, not knowing what to do with themselves.

“Cheese it!” A sudden rush of adrenaline pooling in his veins, the lemming yanked the robot’s arm and sprinted down the street. 

“Hey, that’s my line!” Bender called out annoyedly, the soles of his feet clanking on the concrete. “Do you even know how to get to your apartment from here?”

“Not a clue, baby,” Crow said, ineptly mimicking Bender’s cadence. “Just kidding!” 

“Oh, now you’re just copying me!” He whined. Crow ignored his complaints and turned a sharp right. 

While retracing his steps to return to his quarters, Crow felt the murky New New York City air on his skin, excitement propelling him further with every street light he ran under. It brought back memories of him as a teenager, sneaking out of his house to drive around with friends in the wee hours of the night. The inherent risk of doing something in secrecy made it worthwhile, and spending time with Bender was absolutely no different. Crow’s running suddenly came to a halt, heaving excessively. 

“Another reason why robots are superior to humans: infinite stamina.” Bender gloated. Crow irritably huffed air through his nostrils. 

“I’m a lemming, you dolt.” The robot let go of Crow’s hand and awkwardly crossed his arms.

“Does it really make a difference?” He scowled. Without saying a word, Crow took Bender’s hand, resuming their trek to the apartment. “It’s a good thing that I like you.” He commented. 

“I know,” Crow said assuredly. While approaching the end of the block, he ceased walking one last time. “We’re here!” Compared to Bender‘s apartment complex, the apartment building Crow resided in was exponentially smaller. The stoop was illuminated by a porch light, revealing the nostalgic, brick exterior. The robot couldn’t believe that he was standing in front of the same apartment building as this morning, but instead of nervously clutching a bunch of roses, he comfortably held his co-worker’s hand. He was in complete disbelief that Crow’s scheme to get out of Elzar’s was a success. It showed that while the lemming’s moments of gutsiness were infrequent, they were on equal footing to Bender’s, bouncing off one another in complete sync. 

“My room’s on the fifth floor.” Crow pushed the door open, eagerly bringing the robot inside with him. 

“Number sixty-four, right?” Crow pushed the elevator button, the pinging noise signifying that the doors would open. 

“Correct!” Stepping inside the elevator, the lemming pressed the button with the number five on it, followed by the button to close the elevator door. After the dinner deserters silently ascended to the fifth floor, they exited the elevator, traversing to apartment number sixty-four, unsure of what would happen next. 

Chapter Text

Fumbling for his keys, Crow let go of Bender’s hand. “Where’s my clutch purse?” He asked seriously. “I swear to God if I left it at Elzar’s—“ The lemming was interrupted by Bender reaching his hand out, holding his purse. “Where the hell did you find that?” 

“I kept it in my chest compartment while you went to the bathroom.” He answered nonchalantly. 

“You put a lot of thought into this runaway, huh?”

“Not really. I do as I please.”

Crow opened the purse and retrieved the keys, his fingers fiddling to see if his debit card and IDs were intact. “I guess you were too caught up in the moment that you forgot to steal my money.”

“I paid for both of our meals, actually! I only do that when I feel nice, and it’s not often.” He grumbled. 

“You’ve felt nice since yesterday,” Crow smirked, unlocking the apartment door. Bender’s mainframe went fuzzy seeing that Crow was aware of his softer side. Despite his realization the night before that he had feelings for him, it was incredibly daunting to be reminded of it. It felt freeing to spend time alone with Crow. He valued Leela and Fry as his friends, but they were a bit much sometimes, especially when they were with the rest of the Planet Express crew. The robot trusted Crow with his livelihood the night before, and he wondered for a second if the reason why Crow ran away with him was that he trusted him, too. 

“Alright! The door’s unlocked.” He slowly creaked the door open, revealing his residence. “Welcome to my humble abode!” Bender’s eyes were greeted with a living, breathing relic of the past. The apartment walls were covered with pink wallpaper patterned with green palm trees. Right above the living room television and at the furthest wall from the dining room were reproductions of a piece from Hiroshi Nagai’s Poolside series and album art from Duran Duran’s Rio by Patrick Nagel. The television stand featured a functioning VHS and Laserdisc player, along with a regular cable box. Within the TV stand’s cubbies were VHS tapes and Laserdiscs in shockingly decent conditions. On the wall to the right of the shelves was the sword made by Dahlia of Lemmingland in its glass casing. The base of the display had a gold plaque which revealed the sword’s name—The Sheltering Sky. 

“I take very good care of everything here, contrary to my gracelessness at work.” Crow self-deprecated, a bit worried that Bender was unimpressed. “Most of it is from my family, but some of the Laserdiscs are from thrifting.”

The machine roamed around the living space in complete awe. The only time he’d seen that much old technology was in a landfill, piled high with remnants of VHS players, Laserdisc players, and, unpleasantly, bits and pieces of old robots. He approached the shelf stocked with tapes and nabbed one. “Back to the Future Part II, huh?” He read the label. 

“It’s one of my favorites! Though it’s not an accurate representation of the future, I love it.” Crow laughed. “My family used VHS and Laserdiscs to watch movies and stuff growing up, so I was always surrounded by it. It makes me feel at home again, without having to deal with nosy neighbors.” He comfortably undid his belt and untucked his floral shirt, kicking his black boots off of his feet and into the air, falling onto the plush carpet with a thunk. “Hope you don’t mind me getting a bit more comfortable.” He said timidly. “My sides are killing me from wearing a belt!”

Bender put the tape back into its compartment and chuckled lightly, shaking his head and crossing his arms. “Fry walks around in nothing but his tighty-whities both at work and at home. You loosening your shirt is nothing compared to seeing his pale ass.” 

The lemming concealed his chortles as he began to visualize Fry’s chubby self in skivvies. “Gotta impress Leela somehow!” He snickered to himself, getting up from the leather loveseat. “I’m gonna get us some drinks.” He entered the kitchen and opened the fridge. “You get to pick what we watch first. I suggest choosing something from the VHS shelf!” He called out. 

The robot twiddled his thumbs as he eyed the shelf of tapes, studying the labels to see if any movie caught his eye. All of the tapes were incredibly old, and while they were movies he never saw, he wasn’t interested in them enough to watch. Progressively losing hope and contemplating looking at the Laserdiscs, one tape caught his eye: All My Circuits: From Calculon With Love. In juvenile glee, he hopped in place, holding the film like it was a valuable jewel. 

“I see you found the All My Circuits tape.” Crow was holding two cans of an unfamiliar beverage in his hands.

“Where did you get this? They haven’t made VHS tapes in centuries!” The robot placed the tape onto the coffee table and hurled himself onto the couch. 

“Let’s just say I know a guy.” Crow tossed a can to the guest, who caught it effortlessly. “But if you want a legit explanation: I have a friend who transfers modern films and television onto VHS.” 

“White Graw?” Bender observed the can’s label, puzzled.

“Oh! That’s some beverage that I saw at a supermarket a few months ago. I’m not much of a drinker, but I like it.” The lemming cracked open the can and took a small sip. On Bender’s end, he punctured the bottom of the bottle with his mouth and shotgunned the alcoholic drink, downing it in around fifteen seconds. 

“This tastes like ass.” He complained. “It’s carbonated, too?” 

“Well, it is a hard seltzer.” Untroubled, Crow took another swig. 

“And it’s supposed to be grapefruit-flavored? This tastes like you poured grapefruit juice onto a musty cleaning rag and soaked it in dirty dishwater!” Outraged, he chucked the can to the floor, immediately wincing for littering in his friend’s apartment. “Sorry.” He quickly apologized, picking up the can and placing it onto the table. “I’m also taking this suit off because it’s starting to chafe.” He virtually tore the pants off his legs and sloppily unbuttoned the dress shirt, only his bow tie remaining on his body. The lemming shook his head, unsurprised by Bender’s recklessness. 

“Don’t worry about it. I prefer raspberry.” He took the empty can and walked back into the kitchen. “I’ll find something else that you’ll like, so just wait a couple more minutes.” 

“Just make it snappy, meatbag.”

Chapter Text

“Sorry for the holdup, Bender.” Crow emerged from the kitchen after 5 minutes. “Look what I brought!” The lemming held a giant pitcher of peach-pink liquid, the vague sound of fizz emitting from it. 

“Is that all for me?” Bender’s eyes brightened. The lemming answered his question by passing the glass to him. He observed the robot sloshing the liquid in the glass jug, mesmerized by the bubbles. 

“Don’t just stand there!” Crow sat on the couch beside his drinking buddy. “Try some already.” Opening his mouth, Bender tipped over the pitcher, taking a large gulp of the beverage. Fists gripped in suspense, Crow heard the sound of the robot heartily smacking, paying close attention to his facial expressions. His eyes momentarily glitched out, surprised by the alien’s concoction. He lifted the jar and downed the rest of the liquor and belched loudly, expelling a large flame from his maw. 

“You might as well quit your job as a delivery boy and become a mixologist because this is incredible. ” He lauded enthusiastically. 

“T-thanks!” Crow beamed. “It means a lot coming from you.”

“Whatever was in that drink hit all the right places.” He satisfyingly tapped the midsection of his chest compartment. 

“I wanted to get you something more… ‘you,’ but I didn’t have any malt liquor. So I had to improvise and work with what I had, which was unfortunately limited.”

“What’s in this… ‘Bender Juice?’” He asked, entertainer by the name he came up for the cocktail.

“Cranberry juice, pineapple juice, and…” The lemming elongated the last word of the sentence. “Lots of raspberry White Graw.” 

“You’re telling me I just drank a poor man’s Bay Breeze? ” The robot’s voice rose. Crow went completely motionless, unable to speak. He knew that Bender sometimes indulged in “girly” beverages like fuzzy navels and Cosmopolitans, but he was unsure of how particular he was with mixed drinks. “Keep it comin’!” He hollered approvingly. 

“You’re in luck! I made a second keg.” Crow heaved in relief. “While I go get the rest of the drink, will you put the tape in the VCR?” 

“It would be an honor.” He once again picked up the VHS tape and skipped to the VCR below the gigantic CRT television. He inserted the tape into the player and pressed the device’s power button. The machine whirred into motion, the film within its plastic casing moving fluidly. He traced his fingers on the base of the television, looking for a conveniently placed power button. 

“It’s not that old, Bender!” Crow laughed, flipping the television on with an infrared remote. He set the second serving of liquor on the table along with a drinking glass for himself. “Take a seat. We can share this quart of alcohol, but you’ll probably have most of it.” 

“Don’t mind if I do!” Happily planting himself right beside Crow on the loveseat, he tipped over the giant glass and poured him a cup.

“To impulsive decisions.” He lifted the jorum in a toast. 

“To impulsive decisions,” Crow repeated, raising his cup high. They clinked their chalices and ensued their drinking.

“I would chug, but White Graws can get you hammered if you drink them too fast.”

“Lightweight.” Bender chuffed. 

“I’m not powered by alcohol like you are, wise-ass.” Crow teased. “Let’s watch the movie already. The opening credits just started!” He pointed to the screen. 

“I get to see Calculon’s chiseled face in vintage, grainy goodness!” Bender rubbed his hands together and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table in enthusiasm. “If you’ve seen this movie already, don’t spoil it for me.”

“And what if I do spoil it?” Crow provoked the soap opera fanatic, drinking some more. 

“You’re getting your furry ass handed to you.” 

“I haven’t seen the movie, so there’s no way that can happen.” He friskily returned. 

“I’ll find a way.” 

Crow choked on his drink, visibly shocked by what was on the screen. Erupting into a coughing fit, the robot gave him a couple of pats on the back. “What do you mean Tom Cruise is in this?” He gasped, exiting his episode. “There’s no way! It’s probably just his preserved head!”

“Normally you’d be correct, but they reattached his head onto an ultra-realistic robotic body in an experiment funded by the New Church of Scientology,” Bender answered. 

“Does he—“

“He still  performs his own stunts.” The robot answered Crow’s question. “He portrays Calculon’s adoptive father who abandoned him at a young age. They touched on this in the season finale before it went on hiatus.” The robot analyzed eloquently. 

“I still need to catch up, but I do remember Calculon mentioning his father in passing. I’m guessing it’s because they couldn’t afford to have Tom Cruise be in a couple of episodes.” 

“Precisely,” Bender said delightedly. “You know,” he opened his chest cavity and pulled out a cigar. “I’m really glad that I have someone to talk to about—Hey, where the hell did my smoke go?” Without realizing, Crow had snatched the cigar and placed it in his shirt pocket. “Give it back! Those things aren’t cheap, you know!” He whined, downing the last bit of liquor in the keg.

“This is a smoke-free household, Bender. Sorry.” Crow finished his drinking glass and roughly set it on the table. “I’ll give it back to you if you promise me not to smoke in my apartment.” The bending unit furrowed his lenses and moped, raising his eyes to garner sympathy. “You can’t smoke in the bathroom, either.” 

“Monique slept with Calculon’s evil twin brother again?” He cried out, temporarily ceasing his begging. “And another thing: every time you make puppy dog eyes, it always works to your advantage. Can’t a stoic robot like myself look cute once in a while?”

“It’s not me making puppy eyes, I just have chronic fatigue!” Crow explained. “You don’t have to make yourself look cute either, because you already are...” He mumbled under his breath. Seeing that Bender was in earshot of what he said, his blood ran cold. The two glanced at each other in silence, the sound of Calculon declaring he wants a divorce and Monique tearfully protesting filling the dead air. “...How many times has Monique cheated on Calculon again?” He laughed uncomfortably, mouth agape. “Three times? It’s not surprising to me at all!” The two remained quiet until Crow reached into his pocket and nabbed the panatela, extending it to Bender like a baton. The robot took the smoke and put it in the lemming’s mouth. Too stupefied to respond, the cigar fell out of his jaw and onto his lap. 

“You can keep it.” He stretched his arms and rested the one closest to Crow on his shoulder, affectionately pulling him closer to his side. “That’s the only one you’ll ever get from me.” 

Amused by Bender’s stinginess, Crow snickered gratuitously while comfortably setting the cigar in his pocket. Feeling his frigid digits on his back, his unnoticeably tense shoulders relaxed. 

“Well, Calculon’s confronting his father.” While Bender focused on his favorite actor calling his dad a deadbeat and hurling a vase at his head, the lemming comfortably leaned his head on him, his hands awkwardly stacked on his black pants.

“Does Tom Cruise’s robotic body replicate the ass implants he had back then?” Crow queried inquisitively. 

“Ass implants?” The android blurted out. “What are you, gay?”

“Yeah?” 

“...Oh. Cool.” They suspended their conversation, flabbergasted by Calculon’s father holding his family hostage. “To answer your question: He never had hurt implants. His body’s just like that.”

Chapter Text

“That was the most disappointing movie I’ve ever seen!” Bender complained, getting up from the couch. “They used all the cliches they could think of and the script was awful.”

“Where are you going?” Crow asked, ejecting the tape from the VCR. “At least Calculon and Tom Cruise’s acting made the crappy dialogue a bit more bearable. They carried that entire film!” He placed the tape back in its paper slip and into the neatly organized shelf. 

“I’m getting those grapefruit White Graws. The flavor is better than the rancid taste that the movie left in my mouth.” He opened the fridge and bundled the cans of grapefruit hard seltzer in his arms, moving them to fall within his chest compartment. “I genuinely think they made Calculon’s adoptive dad say that he’s not his real adoptive father on his deathbed just to find another reason to make a sequel.”

“I think they killed Tom Cruise’s character off because their budget ran dry.” The lemming theorized, planting himself onto the seat. The robot walked past the coffee table and set a few unopened cans of alcohol for Crow to take. 

“You think you can put on the first Back to the Future movie?” He sat on the loveseat with his back facing Crow, his legs bent. He quickly leaned back and unhinged his chest compartment, pulling out a can of boozy seltzer. Cracking it open, he poured the fluid into his mouth, expelling a contented sigh. A loud obscenity was heard from Crow, catching the robot by surprise. 

“Son of a bitch!” The alien slammed his fist onto the couch repeatedly, holding his head high in the air. The momentary pain subsided and the crushing weight on his legs lessened. The compression reminded him of the weighted blanket he slept with, cradling him with comfort and easing his racing mind. Lowering his neck, he looked to see what fell on him, only to be startled at his discovery. Bender’s head was directly on his lap, his pale yellow eyes casually half-shut, downing the remaining liquor in the aluminum receptacle.

“What’re you looking at, fur-ball?” He burped, a large flame illuminating the dark living room. 

“I—“ The alien stammered, wondering if the heat he felt on his skin was from blood flowing to his face or from the fire. 

The robot rolled his eyes. “If you want a cold one, just reach for it.” The lemming was rendered speechless at how he effortlessly rested his head on his knees, curious to know if he knew what he was doing or was just being his inconsiderate self. “I guess that’s a no. Well, more for me!” He guzzled another can. “This ain’t so bad. Ha.”

“I can’t get up without your big, metal head on my lap, you know that right?” Crow reminded the robot in a slight panic. Catching himself looking too deep into the uncontrollable android’s behavior, he snapped out of his state of senselessness. He recollected that he had slept on top of Fry before, as well as his other colleagues. It was nothing suspect or unusual of him, just Bender being Bender. 

“I do.” Bender flashed a haughty smirk, his eyes fixated on the mildly miffed lemming. Crow’s scrunched face instantly morphed into a goofy smile. The android’s superiority complex and holier-than-thou state of mind would be the death of him, whether it pissed him off to high hell or turned him into mush. 

“So… what were you trying to say earlier?” Crow continued to study the robot. Not knowing where to put his hands, which were awkwardly nailed to his sides, he planted one onto the robot’s head and the other on the upper part of his torso. His fuzzy mitts brushed against him, the short fur bristling his steel exterior. A sudden zap of electricity malfunctioned his eyes, making him feel momentarily dizzy. “It was when I took the cigar from you when you weren’t looking.” He added on. 

The robot blinked rapidly, his vertigo subsiding. “It was nothing special. I just wanted to say that I’m glad I have someone to talk to about All My Circuits.” 

“Really? You talk to Fry about it all the time.” Crow raised his eyebrows. 

“Not in the way we talk about it, baby.” Hearing the sly robot call him a pet name once more, Crow vigorously kicked his legs in the air as a substitute for screaming, his cheeks burning up. He was referring to their in-depth commentary of the film, dissecting the characters’ motivations and wants, as well as when their personalities and actions were mangled by copious mischaracterizations. Taking note of clever references to the television series, looking deeply at foreshadowing and symbolism—or lack thereof. Analysis of films they loved were interests of theirs that they kept under wraps, for their coworkers didn’t take talking during movies very kindly. The concealed parts of themselves were seamlessly revealed to one another, unbeknownst to the moviegoers.

“I’m no film critic, and I don’t want to be one, but I’m glad you see me on the same wavelength as you.” Crow enunciated slowly, his voice cracking. 

“That’s the only thing we’re equal on, though. I’m a robot, so I’m better than you!” He laughed diabolically. 

“But you only want to kill all humans, right? You never said anything about killing lemmings.”

“Don’t ‘checkmate’ me, meatbag!” He raised his voice.

“So am I an exception to the rule, much like Fry?” The lemming tapped the fingers that were on the robot’s head. Bender scowled, avoiding eye contact with the alien. 

“No one’s an exception, especially you!” He lied miserably, crossing his arms like a diva. 

“Looks like I’ll be sleeping with one eye open.” Crow was unconvinced by Bender’s empty threat. Not understanding his tone, Bender’s façade was stripped away, leaving him tense and laden with penitence. He didn’t want Crow spending the rest of his tenure at Planet Express living in paranoia that he might be hurt or even killed by someone he considered a close friend. His spiraling tapered off upon feeling the interplanetary rodent’s paws stroking his upper torso. His tinkered machine parts within his metal casing whirred audibly, causing his entire body to heat, a majority of the heat concentrating within his chest. He watched Crow’s hand move back and forth on his chest, his eyes moving in a pendulum motion compared to a newly installed Kit-Cat Klock. The lemming ceased looking at the television and checked up on Bender. 

“You look comfortable.” He remarked. 

“I can get up if you want!” The robot replied quickly, attempting to draw attention away from his overheating.

“You’re fine.” He laughed. “This couch is super comfortable. I’ve fallen asleep on it before!” His lap progressively started to warm up, leaving him bewildered. He wasn’t entirely weirded out, as his legs were pretty sore from all the running and hauling he did at the Palisades and provided some relief. He felt cozy and secure, silently watching the television’s static undulate. He continued to trail his hand on Bender until he cocked his head to the side in confusion, coming to a complete stop.  “What was that?” 

Bender’s eyes darted to his chest, his inner workings causing a commotion. “Maybe a stray cat got into the apartment?” He hoped that Crow heard a paper bag rustle in the kitchen. 

“Pets aren’t allowed here, but good guess! It’s probably one of my old computers I forgot to unplug. I’ve been meaning to tinker with it.” The robot quietly sighed in relief. “Now that you mention it, it does sound like a cat purring. How cute!” Bender was, in his own words, ‘boned.’ While he heard the sound of his literal insides screeching and creaking like nails on a chalkboard, it practically was music to the lemming’s ears. He couldn’t wrap his burning head around the fact that Crow had called him cute for a second time, though in this circumstance it was indirect. “Do you normally warm up like this?” Double boned. “I can take a look and see if something’s wrong in your chest cavity again.” Triple boned. 

“After having a lot of alcohol at one time, yeah. It’s nothing serious.” He dismissed dishonestly.  

“Mind getting me some warm grapefruit White Graw?” He heard the hinge to the automaton’s compartment creak open, a cylinder of alcohol emerging in his peripheral vision. 

“It’s not gonna burn the roof of your mouth, but drinking room temperature alcohol isn’t the most pleasant thing in the world.” He watched the lemming open the can and tilt his head back. “Cool your jets, fur-ball!” He warned anxiously, remembering that Crow had mentioned earlier that chugging hard seltzer could get someone wasted. “We’re in your apartment, not a frat house.” The rodent’s head moved back to its neutral position.

“Sorry, Bender. I kinda wanted to impress you, but also wanted to be a bit impulsive.” Crow admitted shamefully. 

“You’re trying to impress me, Bender?” He asked, wide-eyed. “You already have!”

“But I haven’t done any—"

“Aside from snatching one of my cigars, I’m impressed by all this vintage technology you have under this roof. It’s still here, in tip-top shape, when at this point it would’ve been lost to the sands of time.” The last part of his sentence made his body freeze in horror. He was reminded of the landfills he walked by in the city, piled with old IBMs, Macintosh desktops, and the occasional ZX Spectrum, their keyboards mangled and missing keys scattered in the dirt. Unwoven film that was damaged by the harsh sun, burning and melting in its chemicals. The empty, hollow corpses of his fellow robot brothers stacked high, waiting to be melted and compressed for car parts. It left him terrified of what he could become if he were to be irreparable, or whenever the time would arrive where he would be rendered truly obsolete. Too many times he abstained until sober, a complete basket case over his aging self. None of the reassurances given by Fry or Leela could ever remedy his anxieties, because, in his wiring, he thought that when his time was up, he would be left to rust and rot in his shallow grave, forgotten like the rest of archaic machinery. 

Crow’s flattery ended briefly, his fingertips becoming ice cold, making a quick assumption that the alcohol the robot consumed had leveled off. Completely unaware, Bender remained motionless, drastically falling down a rabbit hole that he felt like he would truly never escape from. The television static rang louder and louder in the robot’s head, tormenting him, laughing at him. Even in a place where he was the most relaxed he felt stuck. He needed to do something—no. He needed to say something. 

“Crow?” His voice rasped. The lemming was taken aback by his tone, which was uncharacteristically vulnerable and diffident. 

“What’s up, Bender?” 

“Why do you have all these pieces of old technology?” He began. “I mean, you talked about how you grew up with it, but VHS and Laserdiscs are hard to come by but incredibly cheap. You can’t even resell them for profit, and when the VCR and Laserdisc player breaks, you’re S.O.L.” His voice progressively got gloomier and gloomier, leaving Crow to wonder if there was something else that was bothering him. “There are more practical ways to watch old TV shows and movies, yet you choose to watch them like this. Almost all the technology in this living room is obsolete to the point where it belongs in a museum.” Crow stared at him with a slight frown. “I can’t comprehend how this… this junk,” he waved his arms in a myriad of directions. “is of use to you anymore! Everyone else would’ve thrown it away, yet you hold onto it. You don’t see it as a burden or detriment on your life when it would be viewed as a hassle to others.” 

“Well, aside from sentimental and nostalgic value, I like how movies and shows look on VHS and Laserdisc. I like the graininess and lines and how sometimes things look a bit washed out. No modern technology can replicate the pictures of giant discs and thousands and thousands of feet in film can create. It’s media in its rawest form.” The alien answered passionately. 

“You really think so?” Bender gasped, a starstruck gleam in his optics. “I tell Fry and Leela the same thing and they look at me like I’m crazy! Well, I talk about how robots of the past are superior, too, but that has nothing to do with it.”

“I never get tired of watching all the stuff I own, most of which is in a storage unit.” Crow giggled to himself. 

“...Taking care of everything in here isn’t a chore to you?” 

“Not at all!” Bender’s mechanical innards began to rumble with every word of validation that came out of the lemming’s mouth. “I like cleaning my tapes and taking apart my media players to get whatever gunk or dust is in it.” He further elaborated. “I don’t view any of these items in my possession as ‘junk,’ because no piece of technology is truly obsolete. If you find creative ways to use them, they’ll last forever.” The last sentence halted the robot’s existential train of thought, leaving him elevated and at peace. His friend’s unbridled joy in old tech meant everything to him.

“You get me.” Bender looked at Crow lovingly, genuine warmth in his inflection. 

“Minus the superiority complex.” The lemming amusedly rubbed his head affectionately. 

“Well, would you be happy if I said that lemmings are better than humans?”

“Maybe.” 

Chapter Text

“Has anyone told you how easily amused you are?” Crow asked Bender while channel surfing. They spent two and a half hours looking at infomercials on a random cable channel, dumping information about products being showcased. One interesting fact divulged by Crow was that an infomercial for a face cream was made by a multi-level marketing company, while Bender also mentioned that some of the brands were subsidiaries of Momcorp, much to the lemming’s audible disgust. 

“I’m not easily amused! I just…” His voice trailed off as he stared at Crow mindlessly tapping the buttons on the remote, his head still on his lap. “happen to like what I see.”

“What do you see?” The lemming queried curiously. 

“A bastard that doesn’t know what the hell to watch!” He snatched the remote from Crow’s paws, switching the channel to a docu-series about puppies and kittens. “Now this is quality television!” He declared, gleefully watching a black and white Pomeranian puppy play with a ball. 

“I didn’t know you liked small animals!” Crow laughed. “I learn something new every day.”

“Look who I’m talking to, pipsqueak.” He cheekily stated the obvious. Crow’s face turned the color of a tomato, completely discombobulated by Bender’s chaff. 

“I’m not that small!” He retorted. “I’m taller than the average lemming!”

“Counting my antenna, I’m a foot taller than you. You seem pretty tiny to me.” He took the hand that was resting on his upper body and held it in his own, marveled at how small the rodent’s hand was. “It’s…” The lemming’s fingers wiggled in his grip as he tried to get comfortable. “It’s adorable.” Crow’s heart was on the brink of what felt like detonation. His head jolted to look at the robot, who with dilated pupils, traced his metallic digits ever so slightly on his palm. It was remarkably endearing to see a side of Bender that was normally put on the backburner, or completely masked, while at work. Coupled with the sound of Bender’s internal parts making a raucous, he was like a purring cat pawing at a toy.

“Is this payback from what I said earlier?” The robot’s trance ended and he quickly flicked his hand away from Crow’s as if he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. His square-shaped pupils refocused and constricted to their normal size.  

“I say a lot of things to you as ‘payback,’ fun-size.” Thanks to Bender’s back-to-back quips about his stature, the lemming was a hot mess. 

“Huh?” The alien gulped. “Can you give an example?” The machine began to laugh hysterically. 

“I’m just keeping you on your toes.” He winked. Crow almost opened his mouth to ask what he meant, only to conclude that he was alluding to the suit remark he made. While he was left with more questions than answers, all he could do was look at the saucy robot and smile like a buffoon. A loud ringtone suddenly occupied the living room, causing him to gasp softly. 

“Can you get up for a second?” He politely asked Bender, whose only response was a disappointed sigh. 

“Don’t be a big baby. I know you’re comfortable, but I need to answer my phone!”

“It’s not that, hairball!” The robot told a white lie. “I was about to doze off.” He looked at Crow with an annoyed face, expecting the lemming to do something. The rodent blinked, the ringtone still going off on his cellular device.

“...Ooooohh!” Crow exclaimed in realization. Since Bender was directly on his back, he was unable to lift himself without assistance. “Here.” He extended his limb. Using the lemming’s arm as an anchor, the robot begrudgingly propped himself up. “I shouldn’t be long!” He took his phone out of his back pocket and entered the kitchen. “Hello?” He greeted the caller. 

“Hi Crow, it’s Leela!” The voice on the phone answered. Because of the muffled dance music in the background, Crow deduced that Leela was in the bathroom at the nightclub. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I am, thanks for asking! I ended up taking the pill Amy gave me and that seemed to help.” The lemming fibbed. 

“That’s great! Bender didn’t give you a hard time?” Hearing the captain mention his name caused the alien to nervously glance at the robot, who was taking barren cans of White Graw and drinking whatever was left in them. He caught Crow turning his head away from his direction, becoming inquisitive about what he might've been saying over the phone. 

“Nah. I made sure I got him on his good side.” Having an inkling he was being talked about, Bender persisted with his eavesdropping. 

“Did he tell you where he was going after walking you home?” Crow froze, processing how his predicament became more complicated. Gripping his cellular device, he thought of a plausible falsehood. 

“He said he was going to go to the casino and a couple of strip clubs.” Bender stealthily entered the kitchen and took a seat on one of the barstools. He was definitely being talked about.  

“Typical.” Crow laughed uncomfortably at Leela’s remark, trying to lessen the silence. “Well, I’m about to drive Fry back to his apartment. He decided to get blackout drunk off of some boozy sparkling water and is an absolute mess. I’ll see you Monday!” 

“Get home safely!” The rodent hung up the phone and checked the time: two-fifteen in the morning. “Jesus Christ!” He began to anxiously circle the kitchen island. 

“What’s the matter?” Bender’s voice caused Crow to jump, his phone dropping onto the tile. 

“Bender, were you here this entire time?” He picked up his phone, whose case protected it from shattering. He sat on the stool beside the robot, staring at the countertop with glassy eyes. 

“I got curious when you mentioned something about casinos and strippers.” He smirked, lowering an empty can from his jaw. While he expected Crow to exchange a snarky remark, the kitchen remained silent. “Something wrong, Crow?” He asked. “You only get like this when you’re really anxious over something.” 

“Leela called me!” Crow blurted out, jerking his head to face him. “She asked me where you were, and I didn’t want to tell her that you’re at my place, so I told her that you were doing what you usually do during a weekend!” He flailed his hands with every word he spoke. He ceased speaking to gather his thoughts and was surprised by Bender placing his hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

“And you said you were a bad liar!” He beamed. The anxiety in Crow’s eyes melted away, humbled by his praise and relieved that he wasn’t mad. 

“I still am! I just got lucky this time…” The lemming answered shyly.

“You always find a way out whenever you’re in a pinch. I think my philosophy of ‘cheesing it’ is rubbing onto you.” The robot bragged.

“Maybe so.” Crow smiled lightly. “I’m not... entirely at ease at the moment, though.” He uncomfortably stroked his arm. “Leela told me she’s driving Fry home because he got absolutely wasted at The Hip Joint.”

“Okay, and?” The automaton was indifferent. “Is it because I’m still here?” He turned his body away from Crow passive-aggressively. 

“I’m happy you’re here, Bender,” Crow reassured, rubbing his hand on the robot’s metallic shoulder, instantly softening his attitude. “The only concerns I have are that it’s two in the morning and… you know.”

“Who, Fry?” Bender scoffed loudly. “Forget about him. If he’s as drunk as Leela says he is, he won’t remember a thing in the morning.” Crow uncomfortably concealed his mouth with his hand and moved his eyes away from Bender, reflecting on how to word his suggestion.

“So you’re not opposed to spending the night?” He lowered his hand to make his voice clearer. Astonished by the lemming’s proposition, Bender crushed the can with an audible crunch. Diverting attention from himself, he crossed his arms. 

“If you think I’m going back to my apartment at this hour, you’re out of your damn mind. Where’s the tightest space I can snooze in?”

Chapter Text

“Normally this is a broom closet, but I just keep the broom and dustpan in the kitchen.” Crow waved his arm to let the robot know he could get out of the small area. “You know, Bender,” he scratched the back of his head. “I meant to ask you this earlier, but how did you know I was anxious after the phone call with Leela?” 

“Aside from you yelling expletives, you were aggressively shaking your leg on the stool,” Bender answered in an easygoing manner, emerging from the closet. “Even at work, I can tell you’re on pins and needles. You know how many times I almost offered you some of my beer?” Crow suddenly bared his teeth and tapped his bottom lip in discomfort, leaning against the wall and slouching. He tried so hard to conceal his worries while at work, and the most stoic crewmate was able to see through him. “Is there a reason why you’re on edge, or is it just general anxiety crap?” He asked seriously.

“Yes.” The lemming answered quickly, not processing what he said. “I mean, there is a reason.”

“Talk to me.” The robot crouched to be eye level with Crow. “You listened to me when I was low, so it’s only proper if I return the favor.” His infrequent moments of sincerity and compassion were seldom wasted. Without taking another breath, Crow immediately began speaking. 

“I feel like everyone at work hates me.” Bender listened intently, eyes broadening. “I feel like their eyes are constantly on me, so I try to make zero mistakes. I get overwhelmed with a billion tasks so I can prove to them that I’m not incompetent.” He shamefully avoided eye contact. 

“So that explains the incident with the shipment of glass vases!” Bender said in realization. Crow nodded his head briskly. 

“Isn’t that sad?” Crow laughed self-deprecatingly. “They invited me to dinner and wanted to take me clubbing, yet I still feel like they don’t like me.”

“Well,” The bending unit cleared his throat. “I can’t speak for the others, but what I can tell you is that they have zero reasons to hate you.”

“Really?”

“Everyone at Planet Express has botched deliveries at least once in their tenure. It’s okay.” Bender’s voice was missing its self-righteous air; uncharacteristically warm. 

“I’m assuming you’re not exempt from that.” 

“No crap, meatbag! I’ve done much worse, both on the job and off.” He looked at his circular feet and frowned, his motherboard heavy with guilt over the incident at the Palisades. “But they still keep me around.” His eyes shifted to Crow’s with a gleam of hope, keeping the fact that Crow never left his side after the fallout of the Palisades fiasco in mind. “Isn’t that right?” 

“Jumping off a cliff isn’t the worst thing I’ve seen a robot do.” Just seeing the edges of Crow’s lips curl in delight was enough for the robot’s guilt to be truly vanquished. “Thanks, Bender.” With no reply, Bender aided the lemming with getting up from the ground, comfortably grabbing his forearm. “We should probably head off to bed. Lemme get changed into some pajamas and I’ll be right back!” Bender watched the lemming enter the bathroom down the hallway. He heard the sink run and presumed the lemming was brushing his teeth. Two minutes later, the extraterrestrial exited the bathroom wearing a short-sleeved, peach pink pajama shirt decorated with emerald green palm trees, matching shorts, and a plush, maroon drape over his right shoulder. “I have a surprise for you!” He slowly drew out the last word excitedly. 

“Did you find malt liquor somewhere in the medicine cabinet?” Bender guessed. Crow shook his head and picked up the mysterious object that was slung over his body. It was a brand new bathrobe, lined with pink silk on the inside and covered with soft, Egyptian cotton.

“Try it on.” The robot gingerly nabbed the robe, looking down at the article of clothing and back at the lemming. He delicately put his arms through the sleeves and tied the belt securely around his waist. 

“How do I look?” He rested his hand below his mouth and lowered his eyelids, awaiting Crow’s reaction. He noticed how the alien’s front pocket of his pajamas stored the cigar he had given to him earlier that night. It pleased him to picture the plucky lemming carrying it wherever he went like a lucky charm. It was even more hysterical to imagine him trying to smoke—a beginner like him would gag and cough his lungs out. 

“Lemme take a couple of steps back, and…” Crow walked backward until the robot’s silhouette was in view. The automaton looked suave and sophisticated, a playboy. He pictured him sitting by a crackling fireplace, swirling a round ball of ice in a glass of whiskey with a deviously foxy look on his face. To absolve himself of the shame he had imagining Bender in that scenario, he told himself that scenario was what he would likely do. He knew that he thought highly of himself and dreamed of living deliciously. “You look… you look...” His words were lost on the tip of his tongue. 

“Spit it out already!” Bender groaned impatiently. “I get cranky when I’m tired.”

“You look comfortable.” Crow was blank-faced. 

“Huh.” The robot’s arms were at his sides. “I was expecting you to say that I look ‘stunning’ or something like that.” The lemming walked to the door of his bedroom and opened it slightly while Bender waltzed to the closet space right across from Crow’s room.

“Am I still getting my ass handed to me?” Crow chortled, looking at him from the side.

“I changed my mind,” Bender answered lazily. “Doesn’t mean you’re in the clear, though.”

The alien snorted affably. “Goodnight, Bender.” He shut the door gently and turned off the light. Bender stood in front of the door for a prolonged amount of time, unsure of what to do with his bearings. Slowly turning away, he walked past the closet space, with heavyset feet gliding on the carpet. He observed the distant, scattered cans of White Graw on the coffee table. The light above the kitchen sink left the area around it a pale yellow aura, the slivers of bright light seen through the large window by the wall closest to the television dimming and reflecting on the metallic scraps. He approached the cans and held one, somberly observing his vague reflection. He gathered the rest of the empty cans and dumped them into the garbage. 

Making his way to his guest room, he observed the city skyline through the window pane. He could faintly see the cherry red neon sign of his apartment building from where he stood. It was quite a walk back and he was glad that he was spending the night, for he didn’t want Crow to lose sleep over his whereabouts. Lowering his head, he walked away from the window and down the hallway, the base of the robe flowing behind his legs. Entering the closet, he quietly shut the door, now enveloped in complete darkness. 

Bender was unable to fall asleep, reeling in complete isolation within the space that normally brought comfort to him. The small box felt simultaneously barren and cramped, only reinforcing that he never felt more comfortable in his life than he did resting his head on Crow’s lap. He kept replaying the moments where he brushed against his shoulder, desperately trying to recapture how his velvety palms felt against this hard exterior, the glances they exchanged to see if they both were paying attention to the movie, his inner machinery resounding like a white noise machine. They behaved so familiarly in one another’s presence and it baffled the robot to an extreme degree. How they were so in tune was beyond him. But what he was certain of was that it thrilled him with every step they took running down the streets, never looking back, taking time away from their work life. He lounged on Crow’s legs so comfortably and with an immense sense of familiarity like he and Crow were always affectionate to a degree.

Despite all the drinks and television watching, it ended for him much like the copious nights of partying and bringing a few women home for a good time: all by his lonesome. Even though he was in an area of such familiarity and security, he regarded himself as nothing but a forlorn, pitiful bending unit. He wanted to experience the feeling of being embraced again. He wanted just another minute of comfort to lull him to sleep. He couldn’t comfort himself by thinking of someone that looked at him the way Crow did, because, from all the friends he had, no one but Crow looked at him in such high regard. He didn’t want to leave himself sick to his stomach at the mere prospect of how he even took a glance at the lemming because he didn’t want to be reminded of the answer. Then it hit him. 

“Nobody’s an exception, especially you!” 

A feeling of nausea bubbled within him that began to fester the longer he remained still. He tried to reassure himself that if Crow was uncomfortable by what he said, he would tell him directly. He knew that he was a relatively direct person, but his common sense was chucked out the window. Surely his alien friend wasn’t in a panic, terrified that his best friend was going to kill him in his sleep. Bender desperately grasped at any rational thought he had. There was no way that was the case, he thought to himself. His self assurances were futile, absolutely convinced that Crow was trembling in fear. The tight space and fluffy robe made his entire body overheat, his hands trembling and jostling around erratically. For a split second, his body convulsed before remaining eerily dormant. His memory clear, he slowly turned the doorknob, pleasantly surprised by the radio silence of the door-hinge. Without thinking twice, he gingerly opened the door to Crow’s room, absolutely surprised by the contents within. 

The pitch-black room was illuminated by a warm, orange light given off by a tiny desk lamp at the farthest corner. A loud fan filled the air with noise and cooled the room. The walls were lined with a repeated pattern of the Jazz cup design, streaks of turquoise and magenta behind an off white. Numerous posters of old bands such as King Crimson and Pink Floyd, which Bender only knew because Crow gushed about them during a relatively uneventful dispatch to Wormulon. He remembered that same day Crow told him that he would play a song by King Crimson, but never did. He wasn’t mad, of course. He always knew that he was a bit forgetful with things and focused on one task at a time. Confessedly, he felt like he missed out on something grand and wished he reminded him earlier. Aside from the bells and whistles on the walls and potted plants by the window sill, Crow’s room sported a cluttered art desk with paints, brushes, and an open-faced tablet computer. He did mention that he graduated from Mars University, but never mentioned what his major was. If it was the arts, he assumed he was incredibly shy about it. Striding past the desk, the cozy light became brighter, signaling that he reached the bedside table. On the table was a water bottle whose cap was partially screwed on, the rodent’s cell phone face down and hooked up to a charger, and the cigar he let him keep. A measly cigar that Bender viewed as a symbol of coolness contained sentimental value to the alien. It made him feel special that Crow didn’t toss it aside, even if he knew he was never going to smoke it. His elation was propelled by noticing the ice blue vase that stored the roses he gave to him earlier that day. 

Looking to his right, he could see the green tufts of hair underneath a heavy, grey blanket at the side of the bed furthest away from him. He peered at the bed and then to the window, still seeing the smallest fragment of the Robot Arms Apartments building sign. An impulse to run away without a trace occupied his hardware, but he refused. He walked to the side of the bed Crow was sleeping on and stood there in complete silence. He was unable to see the alien’s face as it became apparent he was sleeping on his abdomen and not his side. Looming over him, Bender placed his shaky, steel hand on Crow’s head and gently patted it. The lemming’s hair texture was brand new to him and caused his inner parts to roll. It felt soft, comparable to silk, therapeutic to his troubled soul. His metal fingers occasionally got caught on a few knots, though he made sure not to yank at them. He continued to stroke Crow’s head for a couple of minutes before growing woozy. Even expressing the most minimal physical affection made him feel good. He slipped his hand off of the slumbering alien’s head and walked away. Shutting the door on his way out, he reentered the closet. He shut his eyes and fell into sleep mode, hoping that what he did was enough to show Crow that he could never hurt him.

Crow opened his eyes and lifted his head, mildly disoriented. He thought he heard something, but nothing in his room looked out of place. Shrugging, he shuffled his body to grab a fluffy feather pillow that was next to him. He positioned it to lie on top of the pillow and wrapped his arms around it, tenderly shifting the weight of his torso onto it. His bed feeling more homely, Crow nuzzled the pillow, instantaneously nodding off with a tranquil grin. Maybe a cat snuck into the apartment after all. That would be the first time Bender was right about something. 

Chapter Text

The smell of thick, harsh smoke interrupted the rodent’s sleep by causing his nose to twitch incessantly. His eyes opened urgently and he lifted his head from the pillow so fast he went momentarily dizzy. Wiping the drool at the corner of his mouth, he sprinted to the door, practically ramming his shoulder into it as he turned the knob. Uttering a swear beneath his breath from the bruise forming on his shoulder, he speed-walked down the hallway, locating the source of the smoke. Bender was in the kitchen, making an unknown concoction on the stove, one hand on the frying pan and another hand holding what appeared to be a champagne flute filled with mimosa. He was humming to himself, visibly immersed in his culinary world. A cloud of smoke was emitted off whatever contents were in the non-stick fry pan. 

“Bender, what the hell are you cooking?” Crow hollered. “You’re gonna make the fire alarm go off!” The robot jumped upon hearing his friend’s hoarse exclamation. 

“Wha— Crow?” The bending unit gasped. “You’re not supposed to be awake!” Bender turned off the gas stove and flicked on the vent above the stove to circulate the air and get rid of the smoke. “I was going to make you breakfast in bed, but I guess you couldn’t stay put for another five minutes.” He daintily drank some of his mimosa. 

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t think I want food all over my weighted blanket.” The lemming chuffed, flattered by the robot’s kind gesture. “What did you make?” He walked to the kitchen island and sat on the barstool, moving his legs back and forth. Crow could hear the sound of glass plates clattering and metal cutlery jingling as the robot frantically prepared the plate of food. 

“You want a mimosa with it?” Bender took a salt shaker and unscrewed the lid, pouring the entire contents onto the plate which caused the alien to raise his brows. “Your voice sounds like you spent the entire night in a screaming match.” 

“What do you— oh.” Hearing his voice rasp and crack, he blew air out of his mouth exasperatedly. “It’s because I have a fan on at night. He put one of his legs over the other. 

“You’ve always sounded like that, though. The dry air makes it more obvious.” Bender worded his compliment awkwardly. Crow beamed at him, still waiting patiently for his meal. “As for the drinks, I’m good. I’m not a morning drinker.” He politely declined. “Can you make me one without alcohol?” The robot stopped in place and turned his head around, his eyes half-closed in playful dismay. 

“Really?” He questioned. “You want a glass of orange juice?”

“I have a bottle of sparkling water at the bottom of the pantry closet, smart-ass.” The lemming broke into laughter halfway through, making it obvious his annoyance at Bender was fabricated. 

“Oh, knew that!” He lied, setting the plate of breakfast food onto the island countertop, clinking a knife and fork right beside it. In front of Crow was fried eggs with crispy edges and slices of bacon nearly charred, all topped with a heaping amount of salt.  “Hope you like your eggs sunny side up.” 

The rodent blinked slowly at the food, taking in what he was looking at. Picking up the fork, he prodded at the pile of salt, miraculously breaking the yolk which almost solidified into chunks as the salt crystals overtook the runny, yellow-orange center. He cut off a morsel using the flat edge of the utensil and picked at it, flicking off excess sodium. Swallowing it, the egg white seemed to melt in his mouth, making his maw dry as a desert. The acidity burned at his throat, desperately waiting to get a glass of virtually anything to drink. His inner monologue of wincing was interrupted by the sound of sparkling water fizzing into a glass. 

“Here’s your non-alcoholic mimosa!” Bender chided, placing the champagne flute next to the plate. Without saying a word, Crow chugged the glass of orange juice and fizzy water, the carbonation stinging his nostrils, his thirst not entirely quenched. “How’s the food?” The lemming used the tips of his thumb and index finger to lift a slice of bacon, the salt crumbling off of it. He took a part of it with a satisfying snap, the cured meat crumbling into a powder in his maw. Waggling the empty glass to signal Bender for seconds, the lemming ingested the bacon with a loud, dry gulp. 

“Salty.” Crow was brutally honest. 

“We robots like things on the salty side.” There was a hint of defensiveness in his voice. He silently refilled the glass, his head lowered as if he didn’t want to see Crow. 

“Bender, are you alright?” Crow felt his heart race with anxiety that he did something to upset him. 

“They were right,” The robot muttered disconsolately. “I’m a terrible cook.”

“What are you talking about?” Crow asked, genuinely confused. 

“I know you didn’t like the breakfast I made.” He expressed his hurt feelings with no restraint. “You’ve only had two bites!

Crow didn’t know how to respond to Bender’s accusations. While the salt was overpowering to an extreme degree, the eggs were perfectly cooked to his liking, and he preferred his bacon on the crispy side. All it needed was less salt and a dash of pepper. The lemming was unable to explain this to Bender without potentially upsetting him even more. 

“I like to cook because it makes me happy. I try to share this hobby with people I care about and all the bastards do is stare at it like it’s a pile of slop and throw it out when I’m not looking.” Crow never heard Bender this upset before in the entire time he knew him. He sounded discouraged and vulnerable, not hiding how he felt by deflecting and projecting onto the people around him. The shimmer in the alien’s eyes faded as he realized that the Planet Express employees were complaining about Bender’s food at Elzar’s when he tried to talk about his love for cooking at the table. He watched Bender engage in a dramatic exit from the apartment, leaving the mimosa on the counter beside the stove. 

“Bender, wait!” Crow blurted out. The bending unit turned his head, his fiery eyes piercing the lemming’s desperate gaze. 

“What? Are you gonna tell me everything wrong with the meal I just made?” He snarled, turning the doorknob. 

“Of course not!” Crow lowered his head. “I’m not f, or Leela, or even the professor.” His voice was soft and candid. While he respected his co-workers, he was a bit frustrated with them for their attitude towards Bender’s hobby. The robot’s furious demeanor lessened, thanks to his friend’s gentle reminder grounding him. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.” Crow apologized sincerely. “Please don’t go.” Bender softened, his face contorting to a frown, immediately feeling guilty for acting so coldly. He approached the rodent and sat on the stool right beside him. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, not wanting anyone to know he was admitting his faults. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. The Crow I know is honest, down-to-earth,” 

“Snarky,” Crow added, getting a chuckle out of the robot. 

“ Incredibly!” He awaited Crow to make another comment. The rodent rose his head, relieved to see a relaxed look on Bender’s face. “And… just nice to be around.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Crow apologized sincerely. “I want you to know that you cooked the eggs just the way I like them, and you cooked the bacon how I normally would. You’re not a bad cook, and I’ve never seen you as such.” The robot leaned in, attentively listening. 

“Everyone has different tastes when it comes to cooking and food, though. Fry likes anchovies on pizza, but I just like pepperoni. My dad likes his steak medium, but I like mine medium-rare. You like a lot of salt on your foods, but I like just a couple of shakes.” He held his breath, hoping that he didn’t make the situation at hand worse. 

Bender nodded introspectively, predicting that Crow wasn’t finished talking and had more to say. 

“That doesn’t make you a bad cook by any means! You cook for your palate and that's what you’re most comfortable with.”

“Yeah, that’s right! The ‘robot food’ Leela was whining about at Elzar’s is the best food you could ever eat!” The lemming’s heart was full seeing Bender act like his pompous, lovable self.

“Maybe I should try Sterno-niçoise next time we go there to see if you’re right.” Crow snickered. “To get some intense savory flavors in foods though, it’s a good idea to add other spices. A few sprinkles of MSG never hurt anyone, and putting some dried mushrooms in a food processor to make them a nice powder pulls out their umami flavor.” The robot’s eyes widened hearing Crow speak about culinary things. 

“Elzar mentioned that in his cooking show one time!” He exclaimed in childlike joy, leaping out of his seat and pacing around the kitchen island in circles. “I never considered trying that, but now that you mentioned it, I should do it next time!” His eyes seemed to glow while he talked. “Do you know how great it feels to talk to someone who understands my love for all things cooking?” Crow tilted his head to the side and nodded, enamored with the gourmand machine.

“You know….” Bender sounded shy. “I saw some boxed pancake batter in the fridge of all places.”

“I keep it in the fridge out of habit—my mom would keep it in the fridge back at home. But I think I have a better idea!” Crow smirked. 

“How do you have all this?” Bender breathed, marveled at how the lemming had just about every ingredient needed to make pancakes from scratch. 

“I bake as a hobby.” Crow opened a drawer and pulled out a whisk and spatula. “Remember?”

“Right.”

“I should have a cookbook somewhere that has the recipe I use. Can you get the measuring cups?” He kneeled in front of the kitchen island on the side facing the stove, opening the cabinet.

“Uh, hello? I’m right here!” Bender called out, feigning offense. 

“Huh?” The lemming popped his head up, his frizzy hair bouncing with energy.  “I found the cookbook, by the way.”

“I’m a calculator. I can get exact measurements. You think I’m just going to pull equations out of my ass?” 

“You never mentioned that until now.” Crow ignored the bending unit’s dry comment. 

A nervous laugh expelled from the robot’s mouth. “Well, that’s because sometimes I can be a bit… off.” He finished the sentence with gritted teeth, hesitant to once again admit his faults.

“I don’t feel like rummaging around to find the cookbook, so you better hope your calculations are correct.” 

“Sir, yes sir!” Bender comically saluted. “Speaking of, why did you take out cinnamon powder and vanilla extract?”

“It’s how my family makes them!” Crow opened another cabinet and retrieved two mixing bowls of varying size and a sifter. 

“You lemmings are so odd.” The robot remarked endearingly. 

“Can you fetch me a whisk? It’s in the drawer on the counter next to the stove.” The lemming asked kindly, attempting to pop open a large tub of sugar. Bender casually lifted his arm, making his hand rotate on its own with incredible speed. Watching in complete awe, Crow ripped the lid off the container with such force that a teaspoonful of sugar crystals flew out and onto his shirt, sliding onto the floor. He stared at Bender, red as a tomato, awkwardly holding the lid with an intense grip. 

“What’s the matter, sweet thing?” He teased. “My hands function as whisks, you know.” His moniker hitting him like a freight train, Crow desperately wished he could go and scream into a pillow. 

“N-nothing’s wrong! Just… make sure you wash those hands of yours before we get to cooking.” 

Flicking his hands to get rid of excess water, Bender stretched his arms, ready to make breakfast alongside Crow. 

“Put your calculation skills to the test, Bender!” Crow declared, flipping to a page in his cookbook that had a well-defined dog-ear. “You’re going to make pancakes that will be out of this world.” Determination searing his eyes, Bender lifted the unopened sack of flour and ripped the top. 

“I need you to put one and a half cups of flour in the smaller bowl,” Crow directed. Without defiance, Bender jostled the flour into the bowl, intensely focusing until he poured the exact amount. He briefly looked at the lemming with a subtle smile, as if he was trying to ask him if he did the right thing. Answering with a nod, Crow eyed the cookbook to find the next ingredient. “A tablespoon of sugar,” Bender scooped his hand into the bucket of sugar, excess crystals falling between his fingers like sand, and chucked it into the bowl of measured flour. “A pinch of salt,” Bender gave the salt shaker a couple of shakes, hoping that this time he didn’t pour so much. “and three and a half teaspoons of baking powder.” The machine opened the small tin and poured some of the leavening agent into his palm. He knew that he needed to be incredibly precise with this, as too much of it would make the pancakes too puffy and have a mealy texture. He raised his hand to his optics, intensely observing the microscopic grains of bicarbonate. 

“What do you think?” Bender asked. He lowered his hand again and nervously watched Crow’s eyes. After a couple of seconds, Crow gave a strong and confident thumbs up. Sighing in relief, he dumped the baking powder into the stainless steel mixing bowl. 

“Alright. Now that we have the dry ingredients—”

“Nuh-uh-uh,” Bender cut off the rodent. “You forgot the cinnamon.” He uncapped the ground cinnamon container and lightly tapped it, the powder falling into the bowl like snow. 

“I guess I used all my brainpower on seeing if you had just the right amount of baking powder!” Crow snorted. “Now we can move on to the wet ingredients.” He took the opened stick of butter and removed the remaining wax paper coating it and dropped it into a glass bowl adjacent to the dry ingredients. “It’s supposed to be three tablespoons of melted butter, but I’m just gonna melt what’s left here. It’ll give the pancakes more flavor.” He took the bowl and brought it to the microwave, which was on the kitchen counter closest to the fridge. He placed the bowl onto the turntable and pressed a button that was meant specifically to melt--or soften--butter. The robot watched the bowl spin, anticipating to hear the butter pop and spill over, only to realize that it would never happen. 

“The microwave at my apartment sucks. No matter what you put in, it splatters everywhere!” Bender grumbled.  

“Do you bother cleaning it?” 

“No. I barely use that thing. It’s Fry who makes the most mess!” He deflected. The microwave’s droning ceased and a tiny jingle played, notifying the butter was completely melted. Before Crow could open the microwave, Bender beat him to it, taking it with both of his hands. “You forgot to put a plate under the bowl. I’m not dragging your ass to the hospital for third-degree burns.” Crow felt embarrassed, although it was nice to know the bending unit cared. He cleared his throat before telling Bender the next step. 

“Pour one and a quarter cup of milk into the bowl,” The robot twisted the cap of the plastic milk jug and tipped it over, the liquid cooling the melted butter to a tolerable lukewarm temperature. “Crack one egg,” The lemming gasped upon seeing Bender effortlessly crack an egg with one hand, falling into the bowl with a plop. “I can’t believe you did that! I try to crack an egg with one hand and I end up breaking the yolk or getting eggshell pieces in the egg itself.” Without being instructed, Bender retrieved the small vial of vanilla extract and poured a few drops. 

“Robots one, lemmings zero.” Bender chided. “I’ll take it from here. I’m still treating you for breakfast, after all.” The alien nodded his head and remained seated, watching Bender’s movements as he searched for a frying pan in unyielding adoration. 

“Check the drawer at the very bottom of the oven!” He gave a tip.

“Knew that!”

Before the lemming’s very eyes was a hefty stack of pancakes with crispy, buttery edges, drizzled with maple syrup, a sliver of butter at the very top of the pile all dusted with powdered sugar. The presentation was so marvelous that he felt a bit guilty knowing that he would devour it. Just minutes before he watched Bender combine the ingredients with grace; using his hand to form a well in the dry ingredients where the wet ingredients would lie, whisking the batter together with a precise speed, knowing that overmixing would produce gluten and make the pancakes dense and overly chewy. He had focused on watching the automaton flip the pancakes without flinching or fear that it would land on the ceiling or onto the floor. He was confident in his culinary skills, something that he never truly felt when making meals for his co-workers who doubted his capabilities, never giving him a fair shot. 

“Are you just gonna eat with your eyes or what?” Bender commented playfully while washing the frying pan and other assorted kitchen tools used in the sink. The lemming jerked himself out of his daze and lifted the fork and knife, cutting into his breakfast. He chewed on the pancakes, stunned by the hint of spice and traces of vanilla. The syrup and butter harmonized the entire meal, leaving the famished lemming clambering for more bites. Not stopping for a single minute to sip his virgin mimosa, he kept on chewing and guzzling his breakfast. He finished his meal, dropping his fork and knife onto the plate, wiping his face with a napkin. The metallic sound startled Bender, who was drying dishes.

“You’re the first person to eat my cooking.” Bender whisked the empty plate away. 

“Are you kidding? It was delicious!” Crow beamed. “Planet Express doesn’t know what they’re missing.” 

“You’re overcompensating,” The robot deflected the lemming’s kind words, the countless times he found the slop that was his food rotting in a potted plant at Planet Express headquarters.

“Bender, what would I gain out of lying to you about your cooking?” The alien rodent’s question made his clouded mindset a bit more visible. “Those were the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten,” He refuted. “and it’s because they were made by you.” Bender looked at Crow in bewilderment. “You have this confidence, this swagger in the way you carry yourself, and you somehow incorporated that into the breakfast you just made for me!” His eye contact was intense and full of conviction. “If you ever offer to cook for Planet Express, even if they decline, just know you can always cook for me.” 

“Even when it’s a bunch of slop in a casserole tin?” The bending unit sounded optimistic.

“Even when it’s a bunch of slop in a casserole tin.” The lemming couldn’t help but laugh as he finished his sentence, warmed by the robot’s chuckling following. 

After the kitchen was tidied up, Crow and Bender awkwardly faced one another by the front door of the apartment, hesitant to initiate a farewell. They both wanted to spend more time together in their own company, away from work.

“Fry’s still asleep, but I should probably go,” Bender said reluctantly, placing his hand on the doorknob. “Has Leela messaged you?“ He suddenly took his hand off of it, tugging at the robe he was still wearing.

“Keep it.” Crow insisted. “It’s too big, and I would feel bad if it collected dust. I know you’ll put it to good use. She hasn’t messaged me either, so I think you’re in the clear.” 

“Thank God.” The robot sighed in relief, turning the doorknob. “Thanks for letting me spend the night.” He quickly turned away, regretting his word choice. 

“Thanks for making breakfast and watching movies with me.” Crow smiled, oblivious to the robot’s embarrassment. 

“I’ll see you at work.” Bender exited the apartment, ensuing his trek back home. The lemming turned around, feeling a burst of energy fill his body. He paced around the living room excitedly, fantasizing over the idea of Bender coming over for dinner, sharing his own family’s recipes with him, and watching movies on the couch. 

He couldn’t have been more excited to go back to work tomorrow.

Bender exited Crow’s apartment complex, his hardware feeling electrified. The lemming he adored liked his cooking and even shared the same taste on television! It was something, like his romantic feelings towards Crow, he couldn’t fully comprehend. His familiar feelings of impulsiveness returned, feeling the urge to re-enter the apartment to ask Crow if they could do this again sometime. The rational part of his computing discouraged him, though. Returning to his apartment was the top priority, and he could always tell the lemming what he wanted to say while at work--away from their coworkers, of course. 

After flying through tubes and walking down blocks, he made it to his living space. Traversing the long, narrow hallway, he hummed a folk song he forgot the name of but was about love and its intricacies. Standing in front of the door of he and Fry’s home, he glowed, amazed that he and Crow’s plan went swimmingly. He anticipated entering his apartment without disturbance, hiding the robe in his chest compartment and pretending to slumber in his small space. He peculiarly turned the doorknob with ease as fear prickled him. The door to Fry’s area of the apartment was thankfully shut, which relieved the greedy bending unit. ‘He’s probably still asleep,” he murmured, opening his chest cavity. “Now I can--” He was startled by the sound of a door opening, an orange and light peach figure standing between the two rooms. It was Fry, wearing nothing but his underwear, wide awake, dark circles under his eyes. “Haha.” He stared at his roommate and laughed anxiously at the circumstances. Their plan wasn’t as foolproof as they thought it would be. “Wild night, huh?” He tried his best to deflect the obvious elephant in the room. 

“Bender! Where the hell were you last night?” The human ignored his roommate’s greeting, staring him down interrogatively. Already coming up with untruths that he knew wouldn’t be enough to convince his redhead compadre that the elephant in the room was in his colorful imagination, Bender braced for the worst.