Archive of Our Own ^beta

It didn’t take a genius inventor like the Professor to realize that the 31st century was a lot different than the 20th century. 

Which was lucky for Fry, because he was definitely not a genius or an inventor. 

Every divergence from what he was used to, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, felt like a massive, neon sign to Fry, reminding him just how far out of his league he really was. It was nearly impossible to go longer than two hours without realizing that times had changed; practically overnight from his perspective. 

For the most part, the changes were welcome. He’d been to space more times than he could count on both hands, and his inner child was always giddy upon acknowledging that fact. He’d been on the moon , for crying out loud. And mars, and a lot of other planets that didn’t really seem to hold the same nostalgic and dramatic weight as the moon did. 

It was around now that the Professor would remind him that the moon was a moon, not a planet. Fry wasn’t really sure what the difference was or why it mattered, but oh well.

There were a lot of things that had changed besides just technology. Attitudes were different; about a lot of things. Fry wasn’t really sure what he was expecting, given that he’d been in cryogenic stasis for 1,000 years, but it still threw him off to hear and see so many causal testimonies to the seemingly newfound acceptance the human race had adopted. 

The ragtag crew and employees of the Planet Express delivery service was gathered in the living room of their headquarters, lounging around (much to Hermes’ dismay) in between deliveries. Amy was complaining about how annoying her parents were; which Fry didn’t really get (I mean, how could they be annoying if they were rich?). 

“-And don’t even get me started on their obsessive involvement in my transition,” Amy groaned, and Leela nodded knowingly. Fry blinked, confused. He wanted to ask, but Amy was still talking. “Her what?” he said in a stage whisper, leaning in Bender and Zoidberg’s direction. Bender shrugged.

“Don’t look at me. You meatbags are a mystery to me. I really oughta find myself some more robot friends,” he mused, then looked out towards a window, lost in thought. Fry sighed. 

“Zoidberg?” he prompted. The doctor looked up, startled. 

“Hmm?” he hummed through the antennae-like structure covering his mouth. “Don’t look at me. I’m an expert in humans, not Martians,” 

Fry groaned, then tuned back into what Amy was saying.

“They insisted on picking my name for me,” the woman was complaining. “Like, they already got a shot at it, and look how that turned out! Besides, it’s literally, like, tradition to pick your own name when you transition,” 

There was that word again. Something told Fry he should know what they were talking about, but his memory wasn’t the greatest, and plus, he was a guy, so why should he?

He quickly beat down any thoughts that implied otherwise. He was a guy. Duh.

“Did they at least give you a list to pick from?” Leela asked curiously. “I’ve heard of some parents compromising and going that route,”

“No,” Amy sighed, rolling her eyes. “They named me Amy because it’s what they would’ve called me if I’d been born a girl,” she shrugged. Fry sat bolt upright. 

Surely he’d misheard her.

“Well, it’s a nice name, at least. It suits you,” Leela patted Amy’s hand.

“I bet you got to pick your name, Leela,” Amy needled, jealousy coloring her voice. 

“Well, yes, but… I grew up without parents, Amy. That’s not exactly the best tradeoff,” Leela said hesitantly. Suddenly, her eye widened and she turned to look at Fry, who was looking around wildly at the other occupants of the room, desperate for some sort of social cue. “How did that kind of thing work in the 20th century, Fry?” Leela asked with genuine curiosity. 

“What- how did what work?” Fry asked, tugging at his collar. His heart was thumping so loud he swore everyone else in the room could hear it. “I wasn’t listening,” he grimaced as his voice cracked, jumping up an octave. He cleared his throat and dropped his voice as low as he could get it to go. “Sorry.”

Leela raised her eyebrow. “You know, transitions,” she said, looking at the redhead expectantly. Fry looked around again. Surely he was missing something.

“I’m a guy,” he found himself saying defensively. “A- a dude. Okay?” he groped blindly on the coffee table for the can of Slurm he’d been slowly sipping at. When his fingers closed around the cool, condensated metal, he brought it to his lips.

Leela’s face took on an expression that was equal parts worry and annoyance. “Nobody’s saying you aren’t, Fry, we just wanted to know what it was like for transgender people in the 20th century,”

Fry choked and spat out his drink. 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t know,” he lied. “Wh- why are you asking me?” He narrowed his eyes. They knew. They knew his secret, his horrible deception. The walls seemed to get closer and closer to where Fry was sitting on the couch. The horrible, claustrophobic sensation caused his chest to tighten, and his breathing became desperate, tiny gasps for air.

Leela rolled her eye. “Nevermind. Men, am I right?” She said knowingly, turning to Amy. “Why anyone would want to be one is beyond me.” Amy giggled in agreement. 

Fry jumped up from his spot on the couch and stumbled forward, staggering towards the door. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

“Fry, where are you going?” Leela called as he shuffled and dragged himself forward, wrapping his arms around himself, covering his chest. He opened his mouth, but his throat and tongue were dry as the desert planet Trisol. “Fry!” she said again. 

Somehow, he stumbled out of the Planet Express headquarters and into one of the transport tubes that spanned the city of New New York in a tangle of knots and loops. When he fell to the ground outside of the Robot Arms Apartment Complex, he was practically operating on autopilot. 

He crashed through the door to Bender’s apartment as soon as it unlocked, then fell into the door to the closet where his things were. Then, he found himself standing in front of the mirror in the tiny, molding bathroom, his hands squeezing the hem of his t-shirt in a death grip, his red jacket draped over the towel rack.

His entire body shook as he pulled off the white, baggy shirt he wore practically every day. His eyes filled with tears and he nearly fell to his knees once the fabric was up and off of his body. 

It really wasn’t that bad. He was lucky, in a stupid, fucked up way, if he would just let himself be grateful. 

But it was hard to be grateful when you were a dude stuck in a body with tits and a pussy.

He cupped his chest with both hands, locking eyes with himself in the mirror as he did so. He really should be more grateful that his chest wasn’t that big. In fact, it was small enough that he didn’t have to hide it at all. 

But he knew it was there, and why it was there, and that was enough to leave a rotten feeling in the back of his throat.

He dropped his hands to his side. Tears were flowing freely now, streaming down his cheeks silently and dripping into his armpits in a weirdly uncomfortable way. Slowly, he backed into the wall behind him and sank down to the floor, curling in on himself. 

Fry wasn’t sure how long he sat there on the cold tile of the bathroom floor before he heard heavy, robotic footsteps and a rhythmic knocking on the door.

“Fry? Uh- Leela told me to check on you,” Bender’s voice was muffled, and rough like always, but in a soothing way that made Fry want to cling to it.

“‘M fine,” he mumbled. 

“Alright,” Bender sounded perfectly satisfied with that answer. Fry was grateful and disappointed at the same time. As the heavy footsteps retreated from the door, Fry frantically pulled on his t-shirt and unlocked the bathroom door. Bender turned around.

For a while, they just looked at each other. Fry blinked. Bender didn’t.

“... I’m not actually okay,” Fry admitted in a voice so quiet he wasn’t even sure he’d said anything.

Bender didn’t seem to react, and for a moment, Fry considered running away again, but then his friend rubbed the back of his robotic neck, looking a bit conflicted.

“Okay. I, uh… do you… wanna talk about it?” Bender asked awkwardly, his voice soft in a way that Fry didn’t think he’d ever heard.

“... You wouldn’t understand,” Fry shook his head. Bender looked a bit annoyed at that.

“Try me,” he challenged. “I’ve been told I’m a great listener,”

For some reason, Fry found that hard to believe. But for some reason, he didn’t argue. Didn’t say anything. He just started towards the couch. Bender followed him.

“I wasn’t born a guy,” Fry admitted, feeling his heart swimming around in his stomach. He was met with silence. He looked up, and Bender was watching him intently. There was no judgement in his eyes. Nothing in his body language told Fry he needed to be worried about anything at all. “I, uh… I guess I’m, like. Transgender?” Now it was his turn to rub the back of his neck. 

“So then why’d you get all weird when Amy and Leela were talking about it?” Bender asked, seeming genuinely confused.

“I, uh… it was a lot less… normal in the 20th century,” Fry explained. “Like- people like me were sent to, like, therapy. To ‘fix’ us,” he looked at his feet. 

“Over something as stupid as gender?” Bender said in disbelief. “Fry, I don’t give a shit what’s in your pants, unless you’re trying to get in mine,” he said matter-of-factly. For some reason, that made Fry’s cheeks feel warm.

“Do robots wear pants?” He laughed. 

“Sometimes. When we feel like it,” Bender shrugged.

“Cool,” Fry grinned. “D’ya think I should go talk to Leela and Amy?” 

“Eh, probably,” Bender shrugged. Fry made a noise of acknowledgement, then the room fell silent. After a beat or two, Bender turned to look at his friend. “Wanna go get drunk?”

Fry’s face lit up. “Buddy, there’s nothing else I’d rather do,”

Bender snorted and stood. Fry followed. “Okay, sap.”