Fic: Futurama, hard R
Feb. 4th, 2009 09:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lotesseFic: Five Ways That Forced Intimacy Clichés Made Fry and Leela Do It (And One Way That Didn’t)
Futurama, Fry/Leela, 5,162 words, hard R. Sex Pollen, Amnesia, Aliens Made Them Do It, Marriage Law, Mind Powers are for Porn, and an Apocalypse. porn, romance, schmoop, and humor.
1. Sex Pollen
When Amy and Kif retreated into their cabin as soon as they got back from picking up their part of the cargo, Fry figured it was just a Kif-and-Amy thing. You kind of had to expect weird sexual shenanigans when Martian girls hooked up with fluid-based alien life forms. Fry didn’t want to think about it, except when he sort of did.
“Okay, Fry, Bender,” Leela called, “time for the second round. It’s your turn. There’s six more bales of quadrotriticale waiting for us in the Grain Quadrant, let’s go.”
“This whole planet is like one huge garden, right?” Fry asked Bender in an undertone as he put on his landing suit. He’d been kind of spaced during the mission briefing, and he didn’t want Leela to know that he hadn’t paid attention. She got so mad about stuff like that.
“Pretty much, yeah. They grow everything you can imagine, and most things you can’t. All separated out like a compass so they can keep track of it. Lots of stupid flowers and that kind of crap, but some cool plants that can kill humans or are worth thousands of dollars.”
“Sweet.”
Leela hollered back, “You guys! Come on!”
He ran to catch up with her, and tried to stroll nonchalantly beside her and not wheeze for breath or clutch the stitch in his side once he’d done so. Bender was ignoring them; he’d been feeling superior to humans for a while, and didn’t like to lower himself to conversing with such primitive life-forms. Fry knew that it wouldn’t last, considering that Bender said the same thing at least once a month.
The planet actually was gorgeous. They had to walk across the Floral Hemisphere to get to the Grain Quadrant, and the plant life around them was dizzingly stunning. There were flowers in every color Fry had ever heard of, and several shades that he’d never so much as imagined.
He bent to break one off low at the root; it was the exact color of Leela’s hair. “Here,” he said awkwardly, handing it to her. “This is pretty, and it made me think of you.”
She raised a sarcastic eyebrow at him, but took the flower anyway. Bringing it to her nose, she took a deep sniff. “Thank you, Fry,” she said in a very different tone from the one he’d expected. “This smells wonderful!”
She raised her eyes from the purple flower, and Fry revised his opinion on the weird sexual shenanigans front when he saw her wide-eyed stare. She batted her long eyelashes at him, coyly parted her – very full and luscious – lips, and moaned, “Oh, Fry!” in breathy tones. Almost sort of like the way girls talked when they wanted to have sex. At least, that was what Fry had gathered from “All My Circuits” and stuff.
“Um. Leela?” he asked, trying really hard not to lose his capacity for speech altogether. “Are – what – you –”
“Whoo – hoo!” Bender yowled, rocking back on his canister and shaking a limp wrist in their direction. Leela was still giving Fry a limpid, adoring look. She reached up and started curling a strand of her hair around one finger, never diverting her attention. She was devastatingly, unbelievably hot. Fry could feel his brains leaking out of his ears. He could feel a flush rising up his neck to paint his face. He could feel all the blood in his body rushing to a single location.
In the long moment during which he hesitated, Leela wrapped herself around him, murmuring directly into his ear, “Fry, darling, why don’t we go rest under those Pink-Blooming Elms over there? I’m feeling awfully tired, if you know what I mean.” Her breath tickled the sensitive edges of his ear, and Fry shivered. Oh God.
“Whooo!” Bender yelled again, and Fry shot him a venomous look over Leela’s bared, bent, sexily arched neck. For once the universe was on Fry’s side; Bender quietly turned his attention elsewhere.
The universe wasn’t on Fry’s side enough to put some significant distance between his skin and Leela’s tongue.
“Um, Leela?” he questioned repetitively. “Um. It’s not that I don’t, um, really like what you’re – oh god – doing, but, um, this is kind of, well, sudden.”
She looked up at him winsomely through her ridiculous eyelashes. “Fry, you think I don’t know that?” she purred. “I’ve obviously been pheromonally effected by the plant life, which is essentially functioning like some kind of sex pollen, inducing these feeling of incredible lust all over my body.” She smoothed a hand down over one rounded hip, and pulled off her hair tie as she spoke, shaking her hair loose around her shoulders. Purple tendrils clung untidily to her face and neck. Fry thought he might faint.
“Okay,” he stammered. “So. Um.”
“So what’s the problem?” she cooed. “I’m ready for sex, I’m in the mood, and oh baby you’re right here. Don’t tell me you aren’t willing, I see you checking me out when I scrub down the Planet Express ship.”
Fry couldn’t believe that he wasn’t having sex with her already, but he just had to ask, “So you’re okay with this? I’m not taking advantage of you?”
“Well,” she said consideringly, “I wouldn’t date you when not under the influence, but it’s not like you’re some sort of hideous slime monster or something. All in all, I can think of worse potential drunken hookups.”
“I can live with that,” Fry said, and stuck his tongue down her throat.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, and bit his ear.
They didn’t make it to the Grain Quadrant for several hours, and they experienced numerous unanticipated delays on their return journey.
2. Amnesia
It took Fry three days to open his eyes. Three days that Leela spent listening to Bender blustering about how he couldn’t possibly have known that Fry would have actually been doing his job and washing the Plant Express ship, and as such he couldn’t possibly be blamed for bashing the delivery boy on the head with the spaceship’s entry ramp, and anyway he was only taking it to Pluto to get something that was perfectly legal and not at all illicit. Three days that Leela spent brushing off Amy’s fake overtures of friendship, and searching Fry’s apartment for a chair she could sit in without risking an instant backache, and trying in a sort of offhanded and distracted way to remember what color Fry’s eyes actually were, when they were open.
It turned out that they were blue, which was kind of surprising considering his gingery hair.
“Huhn? Where am I?” Fry whispered hoarsely, looking around in bewilderment.
“Bender hit you with the Planet Express ship,” Leela told him, offering him a glass of ice chips.
He swallowed a few down, and then said, “Okay. What’s a planet express ship? And who are you? Did you get your other eye surgically removed so it would look cool, or did something nasty happen to it?” Fry was smiling, but when Leela leaned it to peer at him, she realized that there was absolutely no recognition in his – apparently – blue eyes.
“You really don’t know who I am?” she asked.
“Nope,” he said, still grinning.
“Bender,” she shouted, “you gave Fry amnesia! I’m Leela,” she said, turning back to the bed, “and you’re Philip Fry, and –“
“Huhn?” Bender said, periscoping his eyes around the doorway.
“Holy crud,” Fry said as Bender came all the way in. “Are you a robot?” He looked back at Leela, and asked, “Does that mean you’re actually an alien? I figured there was just something wrong with you.”
She shook her head. “No, there is something wrong with me. I grew up thinking I was an alien but we found out a few years ago that I’m a mutant.”
“But that’s still a robot, right?” She nodded, and his grin stretched even further across his face. “Cool!”
“Hey, buddy, that’s not even half of it,” Bender said, pushing her back away from Fry. “You got zapped a thousand years into the future, and now everything’s all shiny and robotic, and much better than it was back in the stone age. I deign to hang out with you, which makes you basically a god, and we fly around together in a big green spaceship.”
“Bender,” she yelled, “that’s no way to treat someone suffering from amnesia! Anyway, most of what you just said isn’t quite true, and the guy’s going to have some major culture shock.” He gave her a look, and she gave him one right back, and flexed a forearm in his general direction. Bender scuttled out of the room, and she turned back to Fry, who was sitting up on the edge of his bed.
He looked up with her, his eyes wide. “Is this really the future?”
“Yes, Fry. You were cryogenically frozen. It’s the year 3002 now.”
“This is amazing,” he said. “Is there a window around somewhere?”
“No, you can’t afford one. But we could go outside.”
He jumped up. “Let’s do that!”
“Put on pants first,” she told him dryly. But something in his enthusiasm was infectious, and Leela found that she genuinely wanted to take him out and show him the future – again.
Watching Fry watch the world was total déjà vu, but it was also the most thrilling thing that had ever happened to her. He was jut so into all of it that standing next to him was like being splattered with naïve excitement. “People get around in those clear tubes? And there are robots, like, everywhere? And space travel?”
“Mmhm,” she murmured, watching his head bob wildly with each passing wonder that engrossed him. When his attention swung back to her, their eyes met for a moment, and she felt giddy and strange.
“You said before that you were a mutant?” he asked. “How do we know each other?”
“It’s a long story,” she said. “We met when you woke up in the future the first time, and we still work together at the Planet Express.”
“I was asking,” he said, still looking at her, “because you’re pretty much the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I can’t figure out why you’re talking to me.”
She could tell by the feel of it that she was blushing, and she wanted to slap herself. It was just that he’d said it so – matter-of-factly. “I’m not, really,” she stammered. “I’m a mutant.”
“Yeah, but you’re a gorgeous mutant,” he said, and then paused. “You’re acting weird. I’ve said these things to you before, haven’t I? I can’t not have noticed you. Even I’m not that much of an idiot.”
“I, well, you-“ she stammered. She’d never had any problems nipping Fry’s romantic delusions in the bud, but it felt different now that he was all vulnerable and open. It felt somehow like taking advantage, or maybe like smacking up a small child.
She didn’t know what possessed her to say, finally, “Actually, Fry, we’re dating, but we’ve been keeping it a secret because we didn’t want to deal with everyone butting in.”
His eyes went very big, sort of glassy. “Oh,” he said. “Oh. Oh, right, I get it. This has to be weird for you, right, your own boyfriend not knowing you.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”
“Well,” Fry said, stepping very close to her and grasping her wrist in a surprisingly seductive way, “Leela, I don’t remember being with you, but I know that every part of me wants to. Remember, I mean. But also be with you. Especially be with you. And I – can we – “ he drew in a long breath. “Leela. I want to make sweaty love to you, and apparently you’ve been crazy enough in the past to actually touch me, and oh God Leela I want you so badly you have no idea.”
Oddly enough, she kind of did – there was something about the look in his eyes, the ragged edge to his voice, that was making her heart do the cha-cha. She felt tingly, and embarrassingly damp, and for whatever reason she just really, really wanted to. Who knows, she thought to herself, maybe he won’t remember this when he gets his real memories back. Or maybe he will. Anyway. “My place is just up the block,” she said.
3. Aliens Made Them Do It
“Now,” declaimed Lur, ruler of Omicron Persei 8, “make love!”
“Excuse me?!” Leela shouted up at him from their cage. “What the hell did you just say?”
Lur frowned at her. “It is well known to us,” he said, “that beings often observe others’ acts of copulations as a way of – what was the phrase? – getting in the mood. We wish such a mood to be obtained,” he said, glancing sidelong at his wife, “and so you are to engage in sex acts.”
To all appearances, it was going to take more than that to get the Queen into the mood. She was lounging sarcastically in their general direction, mouth curled up snidely at the edges.
“Leela?” Fry said woozily, “What’s going on?”
Leela sat down next to him. “You okay?” she asked, pulling him up to sit, leaning.
“My head’s pretty hard,” he told her. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Good, because I’ve got plenty of other things to worry about. The Omicrons are trying to force us to have sex.”
Fry’s eyes crossed. “What?” he said dazedly.
“To have sex,” she hissed. “To get them into the mood. Don’t know why people can’t just download illegal porn like the rest of us,” she muttered.
“Oh, okay,” Fry said. “So what are we going to do?”
“Look,” Lur shouted at them, “I can torture you until you break down and beg me for orders. Don’t think I won’t! You have absolutely no choice here. Either make love now, or make love later after having suffered significant amounts of pain.”
Leela looked at the Omicrons, at the cage, at the goose egg forming on Fry’s skull, and made a command decision. “You’ll let us go after?” she yelled up at Lur. “I – you have to, if you want our cooperation. Whether it creates a mood for you or not. We do this, and we go free, plain and simple.”
“Agreed,” Lur harrumphed.
“Okay,” Leela said under her breath, and then turned to Fry.
“Fry,” she said, “you’re going to need to get me wet first, or this isn’t going to work. Also, there’s a condom in my back pocket – go ahead and fish it out.”
“I – really? Okay,” he said in surprise, and slowly reached a hand down around the generous curve of her ass, retrieving the little tinfoil packet. “Come here, where I can reach you” he said unsteadily, and then kissed the path of her cheek down around to the nape of her neck. She gasped when he found that spot right at the crease of her shoulder blade, writhing against him. He was hard – she could feel his erection pressing against her leg, and it was all kind of oddly hot, in a forced-voyeurism sort of way.
“Take my shirt off,” she told him, and he did. She unfastened his pants, pulling them down over his feet, shoving down his boxers. He fumbled with the catch of her bra. The Omicrons stared down at them in silence.
“Are you going to be okay without lube?” Fry gasped as she arched up against him, his cock hard and hot against the small of her back.
She turned her head back towards him, and the heat of his breath tickled along her earlobe. “I’m actually pretty turned on,” she said wonderingly. “You’re not half bad at this.”
She broke off with a mewl when his fingers dipped down into the violet curls of her pubic hair, delicately fluttering against her clit. “God, you are wet,” he said, pressing down. She shouted, and then moaned.
“Fry, please, mm. Please fuck me.”
“Here,” he said, spitting into one palm. “I want to make sure this doesn’t hurt you.” He lubed her up, and she crouched on her knees as he rolled the condom on.
Between the rhythm of their fucking and the feeling of his fingers against her, she totally forgot everything. Between the clenching heat of her split and the noises she was making, he completely took leave of reality. She came; he came; she came again. They fell on top on one another, exhausted, fucked out.
The Omicrons glared down on them. “Very well,” Lur bellowed at last. “You may go free. It is not your fault that I have married the Ice Queen of Eta Aludra.”
The hinges on the cage popped open, and they put their clothes back on. “That was nice, Fry,” Leela said as she pulled up her boots. “Thanks.”
“Any time,” he said, leering.
“In your dreams,” she snapped.
Amy and Bender met them at the surface. “You guys!” Amy squealed. “Oh my gosh, we were just coming to rescue you. What did they want this time? Fry, they didn’t cut off any of your manly parts, did they?”
“What manly parts?” Bender scoffed. “You don’t know nothing till you’ve had some robot lovin’.”
“Oh my god,” Leela said, covering her face. “There is not enough bleach in the world to ever get my brain clean again. Ugh.”
4. Marriage Law
“What do you mean, I have to get married?”
Professor Farnsworth’s eyebrows retreated towards his non-existent hairline as Leela’s screech reverberated through his skull. “Yes, apparently the population rates are plummeting alarmingly. Or at least, that’s what the White House press liaison said this morning. I heard it on the TV, and as you know, that means it must be true.”
Leela sank down into a chair, holding out her hands as if the Professor were her last chance at getting out of a large tank of angry piranhas. “But that doesn’t make any sense,” she wailed. “There are people everywhere! Too many of them for the Earth to sustain, which is why we’ve colonized space. My mom and dad have to live underground because the planet is so overcrowded!”
“Yes,” Hermes interjected, looking down his nose at her from over the top of his digi-newspaper, “but how many of those billions of people are brown? Or, for that matter, green?”
Fry leaned into the room, saying, “There’s kind of a lot of green people around, aren’t there?” He meandered over to the conference table. Leela couldn’t stop herself from sighing gustily. “I mean,” he went on, “there never used to be so many different colors of people. I remember when black guys were all weird and not like everyone else, but the future’s like some sort of, I don’t know, people rainbow or something.”
“Exactly!” the Professor shouted, pounding a fist on the table. “It’s terrible! Which is precisely why President Nixon is demanding that all Caucasian adults obtain marriage licenses within the month. It’ll encourage breeding.”
“Okay,” she said, “but that still doesn’t explain why anyone would think I needed to get married. I’m not Caucasian, I’m a mutant.”
Hermes raised an eyebrow. “That what you put on your tax forms?”
“Well, no,” Leela admitted. “They’d deport me if I admitted the truth.”
“There you go, then. You tell the lies, you take the consequences.”
Fry’d been sitting quietly with his cheek resting on his palm, watching them. Leela bitterly wondered why he hadn’t made popcorn and settled in to enjoy the show. After a minute of silence, though, he sat up and asked, “Hey Professor? Why don’t I have to get married? I’m white.”
“Oh, you do. I only told Leela because Amy already has a boyfriend, I’m too old, Hermes already possesses a ball and chain, and Zoidberg’s an alien. And you weren’t in the room at the time.”
Fry looked thunderstruck. “Wow, really?” he said. “I have to get married? That would be so weird. I guess I’ve never really thought of myself as the committed type. Maybe because all of my girlfriends break up with me after three weeks. Married. Wow.”
“Yeah,” Leela snarked. “Wow.”
Later, she would be amazed that she hadn’t seen it coming. You wouldn’t think that even a girl with one eye would be that blind.
Fry waited until they were leaving the Planet Express office that evening before he sprang his attack. “You know, Leela, I was thinking,” he began, doing that terribly sweet and yet stupidly old-fashioned thing where he held the door open for her—he was so odd, but Leela supposed that all the boys from the twentieth century were like that, and she couldn’t really hold it against him.
“What, Fry?”
He looked around them furtively, almost as if he wanted to be sure the coast was clear. It was; everyone had left except the two of them. “About this marriage thing. As far as I know, you’re not dating anyone, and I know for sure that I’m not dating anyone, and I…well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d really, really like to marry you.”
Leela wasn’t sure, but her jaw might have hit the floor. She just…really hadn’t expected it. Fry clearly meant it—his eyes were all earnest and limpid. “I, um—“
“No,” he said, cutting her off, “not like that. At least,” he said, blushing, “not if you don’t want it to be. I didn’t expect you to actually want to marry me. You won’t even date me. But I like you, and you maybe don’t hate me, and it might be easier for us to just get married to one another than it would be to find totally strangers who’d agree to a loveless relationship of convenience.”
His hand drifted out to rest on her forearm, and she found herself actually thinking about it. He maybe had a point. “You maybe have a point,” she said. “Okay, give me a week to see if I can find anyone else and then you’re on.”
She walked away jauntily enough, but she didn’t hear his footsteps behind her, and when she peeked back over her shoulder Leela found that he was just standing there, looking at her. She felt unaccountably guilty, but brushed the emotion off as just plain silly. Fry was fine. Weird, but fine.
The week went by, slowly and annoyingly. The new marriage laws had turned the already-unchartable dating scene into a mélange of absolute lunacy, and all the good men had been snapped up, and that only left the losers, the pervs, and the mentally deficient. She’d never been on so many terrible dates in her life. Top it off with Amy’s blissful wedding to Kif, and you had a recipe for misery and frustration. “Okay, Fry,” Leela said with perhaps more volume than was strictly necessary, “I’ll marry you. But don’t think it means anything. No funny business. And I don’t want a big ceremony. And I’m not sharing a bathroom. And no—“
“It’s okay, Leela,” he said, smiling. “We can do this however you want. Don’t worry about it.”
They signed the holopapers at New City Hall, with Bender as witness. Leela wore a white tank top and combat boots; she figured that her work clothes were close enough for her, and she frankly didn’t give a damn about anyone else. But Fry had a tie on, and his hair was combed back. It made him look older, she thought, and it wasn’t a half-bad look for him. He smiled at her the whole time, that same almost-sad smile he’d had all week, and she was weirdly aware of his hands when he slid the titanium alloy ring onto her finger. She wasn’t used to wearing jewelry. It felt funny.
Hermes had informed them that their marriage wouldn’t qualify for the new laws unless they lived together, so Fry was moving into Leela’s apartment. After the ceremony, he quietly unpacked his few boxes. Most of his stuff hadn’t been worth moving, and they’d thrown in away.
Leela’s nightshirt was made of ribbed jersey cotton, and she’d never thought of it as sexy before. But she felt funny about the idea of Fry seeing her. “Fry?” she called into the darkened apartment. “What are you doing?”
He stepped into the hall. “Just trying to make the couch up into something I can sleep on,” he said quietly. He was wearing a ratty old t-shirt and boxers, and his hair was sticking up.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” she told him, clutching tightly at her fuzzy robe.
He gave her a queer little half smile. “It’s okay, Leela,” he said. ‘It’s how I always figured it would go. I know you’re not really into the idea of sharing a bed with me.”
“Fry,” she said, not looking at him, “did you want to do this? Be married to me? I mean, you’re talking about sleeping on the couch for like the rest of your life.”
“Sure, I wanted to. It was what you needed.”
“Oh, Fry, I feel like such a heel,” she said, suddenly overwhelmed by tenderness toward him. “I’m taking such advantage of you, and you’ve been so nice about everything, and, and, and.”
“It’s okay,” he said again, and then she closed her eyes and kissed him.
It was like fireworks. It was the kind of kiss you thought only happened in holovids. Leela more than half expected to hear angelic choirs start intoning hosannas all around them, or for dawn to come early. Fry was a sweet kisser – warm and gentle. She felt – loved, cherished. It was bizarre. They must have ingested something. The government must be doing another one of those mass hallucinogenic inoculations. “Fry,” she whispered against the curve of his cheek, “Oh Fry.”
She pulled him down onto her bed. She wanted to do everything at once. “Hey,” he said, smiling, reading her mind, “it’s okay. We have the rest of our lives here.”
The sex that ensued culminated in simultaneous orgasms, and Leela gave up on any concept of rational existence. It had never done her any favors, so screw it.
5. Mind Powers Are For Porn
Leela’s breasts look so great in those white tank tops, Fry thought. You wouldn’t think they’d be sexy, but they make her boobs look huge – plus they show off her shoulders. I always kind of want to lick her shoulders.
“Ugh, did something just touch me?” Leela said, bending over her console.
“No,” Amy said, rolling her eyes. “Just your imagination.”
Leela stayed bent, checking a reading – and giving Fry an amazing view of her ass. Her pants were riding low, and he could see a crescent of pale skin at her waist. He imagined what it would feel like to grab a handful of her round bottom, cup her in his hands.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Cut it out!”
“Spluh, Leela, what’s your problem?” Amy said. “Nobody’s doing anything, okay?”
Oh god. “Um,” he said, swallowing hard. “I think I am.” And then he explained everything, which was probably a really dumb thing to do, considering.
Leela raised an eyebrow. “You’re feeling me up through telekinesis?”
“Yeah, I guess so, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, please don’t kill me.” She’s going to skin me, he thought in a panic. If I’m was really extra super lucky, she might kill me before she skins me. This is so, so, so bad.
Slowly, her eyebrow went down. “Amy, take the helm, okay? I’m going to take Fry down to that ESP-proof room we put in last year. Right now he’s a menace!”
Amy nodded, programming steering over to her own console. “I’ve got it,” she chirped.
Leela led him down to an empty room – full of pillows and sheets. Auxiliary laundry? he wondered. What the hell are we doing in auxiliary laundry?
The zippers on her pants rasped as she pulled them open, stripping them off to stand there in her cotton underwear. Oh my god, Fry thought. There’s no way this is really happening.
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to look that shocked,” she said. “I mean, it’s been forever since I’ve had a boyfriend. I’m getting tired of my vibrator! I have needs, Fry, okay? And if you’re telekinetic all of a sudden, you can get me off without having sex with me, and that’s great because I want orgasms, but I don’t really want to have sex with you.”
“Wouldn’t that be weird?” he asked her. He’d never thought of doing anything like this before, and he’d thought about plenty of weird stuff before – like that idea about the melon and the whip, he didn’t even know where that one had come from – but he’d also never thought of Leela as being the kind of girl who’d be into that sort of thing. Um. If he knew what sort of thing this was, which he didn’t.
“No,” she said persuasively. “It’ll be just like we all do when we pretend everyone else isn’t masturbating in bed. We’ll just be in the same room – and my fantasies will be hyper-real, but I don’t see why that would have anything to do with you. We’ll both have fun, nobody gets hurt, nobody gets involved with anyone else, no problem. What’s weird about that?”
“Nothing, I guess,” he said. “Leela, why do you think I have tele-whatsis?”
“Telekinesis? Oh, don’t worry about it. The atmosphere on Epsilon Eridani is known to cause esper effects on some humans. There’s know way of knowing who’ll get what. It should stop in a couple of days, now that we’re off-world.”
“Okay,” he said, flopping down onto a pile of pillows, “then let’s whack off.” Grabbing his dick and thinking of her, he closed his eyes and listened to Leela’s moans of pleasure as he stroked off to dreams of her body.
Could he help it if she was really hot when she came?
6. Apocalypse
The earth about them was barren, a smoking ruin stretching out as far as their eyes – eye, in Leela’s case – could see. The sun shone dimly through a haze of smog, dust, and ash. The broken remains of cities, skyscrapers, and hovercars rose up like cubist sculptures all around them.
“So,” Leela said, “we seem to be the last two people in the Universe.”
“Yep. Wanna have sex?”
“No, not really. I’d kind of rather die celibate.”
“Oh. Okay then. Wanna go loot stuff?”
“Sure, sounds good.”
“Right then.”
And then they walked off together into the sunset.
Futurama, Fry/Leela, 5,162 words, hard R. Sex Pollen, Amnesia, Aliens Made Them Do It, Marriage Law, Mind Powers are for Porn, and an Apocalypse. porn, romance, schmoop, and humor.
1. Sex Pollen
When Amy and Kif retreated into their cabin as soon as they got back from picking up their part of the cargo, Fry figured it was just a Kif-and-Amy thing. You kind of had to expect weird sexual shenanigans when Martian girls hooked up with fluid-based alien life forms. Fry didn’t want to think about it, except when he sort of did.
“Okay, Fry, Bender,” Leela called, “time for the second round. It’s your turn. There’s six more bales of quadrotriticale waiting for us in the Grain Quadrant, let’s go.”
“This whole planet is like one huge garden, right?” Fry asked Bender in an undertone as he put on his landing suit. He’d been kind of spaced during the mission briefing, and he didn’t want Leela to know that he hadn’t paid attention. She got so mad about stuff like that.
“Pretty much, yeah. They grow everything you can imagine, and most things you can’t. All separated out like a compass so they can keep track of it. Lots of stupid flowers and that kind of crap, but some cool plants that can kill humans or are worth thousands of dollars.”
“Sweet.”
Leela hollered back, “You guys! Come on!”
He ran to catch up with her, and tried to stroll nonchalantly beside her and not wheeze for breath or clutch the stitch in his side once he’d done so. Bender was ignoring them; he’d been feeling superior to humans for a while, and didn’t like to lower himself to conversing with such primitive life-forms. Fry knew that it wouldn’t last, considering that Bender said the same thing at least once a month.
The planet actually was gorgeous. They had to walk across the Floral Hemisphere to get to the Grain Quadrant, and the plant life around them was dizzingly stunning. There were flowers in every color Fry had ever heard of, and several shades that he’d never so much as imagined.
He bent to break one off low at the root; it was the exact color of Leela’s hair. “Here,” he said awkwardly, handing it to her. “This is pretty, and it made me think of you.”
She raised a sarcastic eyebrow at him, but took the flower anyway. Bringing it to her nose, she took a deep sniff. “Thank you, Fry,” she said in a very different tone from the one he’d expected. “This smells wonderful!”
She raised her eyes from the purple flower, and Fry revised his opinion on the weird sexual shenanigans front when he saw her wide-eyed stare. She batted her long eyelashes at him, coyly parted her – very full and luscious – lips, and moaned, “Oh, Fry!” in breathy tones. Almost sort of like the way girls talked when they wanted to have sex. At least, that was what Fry had gathered from “All My Circuits” and stuff.
“Um. Leela?” he asked, trying really hard not to lose his capacity for speech altogether. “Are – what – you –”
“Whoo – hoo!” Bender yowled, rocking back on his canister and shaking a limp wrist in their direction. Leela was still giving Fry a limpid, adoring look. She reached up and started curling a strand of her hair around one finger, never diverting her attention. She was devastatingly, unbelievably hot. Fry could feel his brains leaking out of his ears. He could feel a flush rising up his neck to paint his face. He could feel all the blood in his body rushing to a single location.
In the long moment during which he hesitated, Leela wrapped herself around him, murmuring directly into his ear, “Fry, darling, why don’t we go rest under those Pink-Blooming Elms over there? I’m feeling awfully tired, if you know what I mean.” Her breath tickled the sensitive edges of his ear, and Fry shivered. Oh God.
“Whooo!” Bender yelled again, and Fry shot him a venomous look over Leela’s bared, bent, sexily arched neck. For once the universe was on Fry’s side; Bender quietly turned his attention elsewhere.
The universe wasn’t on Fry’s side enough to put some significant distance between his skin and Leela’s tongue.
“Um, Leela?” he questioned repetitively. “Um. It’s not that I don’t, um, really like what you’re – oh god – doing, but, um, this is kind of, well, sudden.”
She looked up at him winsomely through her ridiculous eyelashes. “Fry, you think I don’t know that?” she purred. “I’ve obviously been pheromonally effected by the plant life, which is essentially functioning like some kind of sex pollen, inducing these feeling of incredible lust all over my body.” She smoothed a hand down over one rounded hip, and pulled off her hair tie as she spoke, shaking her hair loose around her shoulders. Purple tendrils clung untidily to her face and neck. Fry thought he might faint.
“Okay,” he stammered. “So. Um.”
“So what’s the problem?” she cooed. “I’m ready for sex, I’m in the mood, and oh baby you’re right here. Don’t tell me you aren’t willing, I see you checking me out when I scrub down the Planet Express ship.”
Fry couldn’t believe that he wasn’t having sex with her already, but he just had to ask, “So you’re okay with this? I’m not taking advantage of you?”
“Well,” she said consideringly, “I wouldn’t date you when not under the influence, but it’s not like you’re some sort of hideous slime monster or something. All in all, I can think of worse potential drunken hookups.”
“I can live with that,” Fry said, and stuck his tongue down her throat.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, and bit his ear.
They didn’t make it to the Grain Quadrant for several hours, and they experienced numerous unanticipated delays on their return journey.
2. Amnesia
It took Fry three days to open his eyes. Three days that Leela spent listening to Bender blustering about how he couldn’t possibly have known that Fry would have actually been doing his job and washing the Plant Express ship, and as such he couldn’t possibly be blamed for bashing the delivery boy on the head with the spaceship’s entry ramp, and anyway he was only taking it to Pluto to get something that was perfectly legal and not at all illicit. Three days that Leela spent brushing off Amy’s fake overtures of friendship, and searching Fry’s apartment for a chair she could sit in without risking an instant backache, and trying in a sort of offhanded and distracted way to remember what color Fry’s eyes actually were, when they were open.
It turned out that they were blue, which was kind of surprising considering his gingery hair.
“Huhn? Where am I?” Fry whispered hoarsely, looking around in bewilderment.
“Bender hit you with the Planet Express ship,” Leela told him, offering him a glass of ice chips.
He swallowed a few down, and then said, “Okay. What’s a planet express ship? And who are you? Did you get your other eye surgically removed so it would look cool, or did something nasty happen to it?” Fry was smiling, but when Leela leaned it to peer at him, she realized that there was absolutely no recognition in his – apparently – blue eyes.
“You really don’t know who I am?” she asked.
“Nope,” he said, still grinning.
“Bender,” she shouted, “you gave Fry amnesia! I’m Leela,” she said, turning back to the bed, “and you’re Philip Fry, and –“
“Huhn?” Bender said, periscoping his eyes around the doorway.
“Holy crud,” Fry said as Bender came all the way in. “Are you a robot?” He looked back at Leela, and asked, “Does that mean you’re actually an alien? I figured there was just something wrong with you.”
She shook her head. “No, there is something wrong with me. I grew up thinking I was an alien but we found out a few years ago that I’m a mutant.”
“But that’s still a robot, right?” She nodded, and his grin stretched even further across his face. “Cool!”
“Hey, buddy, that’s not even half of it,” Bender said, pushing her back away from Fry. “You got zapped a thousand years into the future, and now everything’s all shiny and robotic, and much better than it was back in the stone age. I deign to hang out with you, which makes you basically a god, and we fly around together in a big green spaceship.”
“Bender,” she yelled, “that’s no way to treat someone suffering from amnesia! Anyway, most of what you just said isn’t quite true, and the guy’s going to have some major culture shock.” He gave her a look, and she gave him one right back, and flexed a forearm in his general direction. Bender scuttled out of the room, and she turned back to Fry, who was sitting up on the edge of his bed.
He looked up with her, his eyes wide. “Is this really the future?”
“Yes, Fry. You were cryogenically frozen. It’s the year 3002 now.”
“This is amazing,” he said. “Is there a window around somewhere?”
“No, you can’t afford one. But we could go outside.”
He jumped up. “Let’s do that!”
“Put on pants first,” she told him dryly. But something in his enthusiasm was infectious, and Leela found that she genuinely wanted to take him out and show him the future – again.
Watching Fry watch the world was total déjà vu, but it was also the most thrilling thing that had ever happened to her. He was jut so into all of it that standing next to him was like being splattered with naïve excitement. “People get around in those clear tubes? And there are robots, like, everywhere? And space travel?”
“Mmhm,” she murmured, watching his head bob wildly with each passing wonder that engrossed him. When his attention swung back to her, their eyes met for a moment, and she felt giddy and strange.
“You said before that you were a mutant?” he asked. “How do we know each other?”
“It’s a long story,” she said. “We met when you woke up in the future the first time, and we still work together at the Planet Express.”
“I was asking,” he said, still looking at her, “because you’re pretty much the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I can’t figure out why you’re talking to me.”
She could tell by the feel of it that she was blushing, and she wanted to slap herself. It was just that he’d said it so – matter-of-factly. “I’m not, really,” she stammered. “I’m a mutant.”
“Yeah, but you’re a gorgeous mutant,” he said, and then paused. “You’re acting weird. I’ve said these things to you before, haven’t I? I can’t not have noticed you. Even I’m not that much of an idiot.”
“I, well, you-“ she stammered. She’d never had any problems nipping Fry’s romantic delusions in the bud, but it felt different now that he was all vulnerable and open. It felt somehow like taking advantage, or maybe like smacking up a small child.
She didn’t know what possessed her to say, finally, “Actually, Fry, we’re dating, but we’ve been keeping it a secret because we didn’t want to deal with everyone butting in.”
His eyes went very big, sort of glassy. “Oh,” he said. “Oh. Oh, right, I get it. This has to be weird for you, right, your own boyfriend not knowing you.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”
“Well,” Fry said, stepping very close to her and grasping her wrist in a surprisingly seductive way, “Leela, I don’t remember being with you, but I know that every part of me wants to. Remember, I mean. But also be with you. Especially be with you. And I – can we – “ he drew in a long breath. “Leela. I want to make sweaty love to you, and apparently you’ve been crazy enough in the past to actually touch me, and oh God Leela I want you so badly you have no idea.”
Oddly enough, she kind of did – there was something about the look in his eyes, the ragged edge to his voice, that was making her heart do the cha-cha. She felt tingly, and embarrassingly damp, and for whatever reason she just really, really wanted to. Who knows, she thought to herself, maybe he won’t remember this when he gets his real memories back. Or maybe he will. Anyway. “My place is just up the block,” she said.
3. Aliens Made Them Do It
“Now,” declaimed Lur, ruler of Omicron Persei 8, “make love!”
“Excuse me?!” Leela shouted up at him from their cage. “What the hell did you just say?”
Lur frowned at her. “It is well known to us,” he said, “that beings often observe others’ acts of copulations as a way of – what was the phrase? – getting in the mood. We wish such a mood to be obtained,” he said, glancing sidelong at his wife, “and so you are to engage in sex acts.”
To all appearances, it was going to take more than that to get the Queen into the mood. She was lounging sarcastically in their general direction, mouth curled up snidely at the edges.
“Leela?” Fry said woozily, “What’s going on?”
Leela sat down next to him. “You okay?” she asked, pulling him up to sit, leaning.
“My head’s pretty hard,” he told her. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Good, because I’ve got plenty of other things to worry about. The Omicrons are trying to force us to have sex.”
Fry’s eyes crossed. “What?” he said dazedly.
“To have sex,” she hissed. “To get them into the mood. Don’t know why people can’t just download illegal porn like the rest of us,” she muttered.
“Oh, okay,” Fry said. “So what are we going to do?”
“Look,” Lur shouted at them, “I can torture you until you break down and beg me for orders. Don’t think I won’t! You have absolutely no choice here. Either make love now, or make love later after having suffered significant amounts of pain.”
Leela looked at the Omicrons, at the cage, at the goose egg forming on Fry’s skull, and made a command decision. “You’ll let us go after?” she yelled up at Lur. “I – you have to, if you want our cooperation. Whether it creates a mood for you or not. We do this, and we go free, plain and simple.”
“Agreed,” Lur harrumphed.
“Okay,” Leela said under her breath, and then turned to Fry.
“Fry,” she said, “you’re going to need to get me wet first, or this isn’t going to work. Also, there’s a condom in my back pocket – go ahead and fish it out.”
“I – really? Okay,” he said in surprise, and slowly reached a hand down around the generous curve of her ass, retrieving the little tinfoil packet. “Come here, where I can reach you” he said unsteadily, and then kissed the path of her cheek down around to the nape of her neck. She gasped when he found that spot right at the crease of her shoulder blade, writhing against him. He was hard – she could feel his erection pressing against her leg, and it was all kind of oddly hot, in a forced-voyeurism sort of way.
“Take my shirt off,” she told him, and he did. She unfastened his pants, pulling them down over his feet, shoving down his boxers. He fumbled with the catch of her bra. The Omicrons stared down at them in silence.
“Are you going to be okay without lube?” Fry gasped as she arched up against him, his cock hard and hot against the small of her back.
She turned her head back towards him, and the heat of his breath tickled along her earlobe. “I’m actually pretty turned on,” she said wonderingly. “You’re not half bad at this.”
She broke off with a mewl when his fingers dipped down into the violet curls of her pubic hair, delicately fluttering against her clit. “God, you are wet,” he said, pressing down. She shouted, and then moaned.
“Fry, please, mm. Please fuck me.”
“Here,” he said, spitting into one palm. “I want to make sure this doesn’t hurt you.” He lubed her up, and she crouched on her knees as he rolled the condom on.
Between the rhythm of their fucking and the feeling of his fingers against her, she totally forgot everything. Between the clenching heat of her split and the noises she was making, he completely took leave of reality. She came; he came; she came again. They fell on top on one another, exhausted, fucked out.
The Omicrons glared down on them. “Very well,” Lur bellowed at last. “You may go free. It is not your fault that I have married the Ice Queen of Eta Aludra.”
The hinges on the cage popped open, and they put their clothes back on. “That was nice, Fry,” Leela said as she pulled up her boots. “Thanks.”
“Any time,” he said, leering.
“In your dreams,” she snapped.
Amy and Bender met them at the surface. “You guys!” Amy squealed. “Oh my gosh, we were just coming to rescue you. What did they want this time? Fry, they didn’t cut off any of your manly parts, did they?”
“What manly parts?” Bender scoffed. “You don’t know nothing till you’ve had some robot lovin’.”
“Oh my god,” Leela said, covering her face. “There is not enough bleach in the world to ever get my brain clean again. Ugh.”
4. Marriage Law
“What do you mean, I have to get married?”
Professor Farnsworth’s eyebrows retreated towards his non-existent hairline as Leela’s screech reverberated through his skull. “Yes, apparently the population rates are plummeting alarmingly. Or at least, that’s what the White House press liaison said this morning. I heard it on the TV, and as you know, that means it must be true.”
Leela sank down into a chair, holding out her hands as if the Professor were her last chance at getting out of a large tank of angry piranhas. “But that doesn’t make any sense,” she wailed. “There are people everywhere! Too many of them for the Earth to sustain, which is why we’ve colonized space. My mom and dad have to live underground because the planet is so overcrowded!”
“Yes,” Hermes interjected, looking down his nose at her from over the top of his digi-newspaper, “but how many of those billions of people are brown? Or, for that matter, green?”
Fry leaned into the room, saying, “There’s kind of a lot of green people around, aren’t there?” He meandered over to the conference table. Leela couldn’t stop herself from sighing gustily. “I mean,” he went on, “there never used to be so many different colors of people. I remember when black guys were all weird and not like everyone else, but the future’s like some sort of, I don’t know, people rainbow or something.”
“Exactly!” the Professor shouted, pounding a fist on the table. “It’s terrible! Which is precisely why President Nixon is demanding that all Caucasian adults obtain marriage licenses within the month. It’ll encourage breeding.”
“Okay,” she said, “but that still doesn’t explain why anyone would think I needed to get married. I’m not Caucasian, I’m a mutant.”
Hermes raised an eyebrow. “That what you put on your tax forms?”
“Well, no,” Leela admitted. “They’d deport me if I admitted the truth.”
“There you go, then. You tell the lies, you take the consequences.”
Fry’d been sitting quietly with his cheek resting on his palm, watching them. Leela bitterly wondered why he hadn’t made popcorn and settled in to enjoy the show. After a minute of silence, though, he sat up and asked, “Hey Professor? Why don’t I have to get married? I’m white.”
“Oh, you do. I only told Leela because Amy already has a boyfriend, I’m too old, Hermes already possesses a ball and chain, and Zoidberg’s an alien. And you weren’t in the room at the time.”
Fry looked thunderstruck. “Wow, really?” he said. “I have to get married? That would be so weird. I guess I’ve never really thought of myself as the committed type. Maybe because all of my girlfriends break up with me after three weeks. Married. Wow.”
“Yeah,” Leela snarked. “Wow.”
Later, she would be amazed that she hadn’t seen it coming. You wouldn’t think that even a girl with one eye would be that blind.
Fry waited until they were leaving the Planet Express office that evening before he sprang his attack. “You know, Leela, I was thinking,” he began, doing that terribly sweet and yet stupidly old-fashioned thing where he held the door open for her—he was so odd, but Leela supposed that all the boys from the twentieth century were like that, and she couldn’t really hold it against him.
“What, Fry?”
He looked around them furtively, almost as if he wanted to be sure the coast was clear. It was; everyone had left except the two of them. “About this marriage thing. As far as I know, you’re not dating anyone, and I know for sure that I’m not dating anyone, and I…well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d really, really like to marry you.”
Leela wasn’t sure, but her jaw might have hit the floor. She just…really hadn’t expected it. Fry clearly meant it—his eyes were all earnest and limpid. “I, um—“
“No,” he said, cutting her off, “not like that. At least,” he said, blushing, “not if you don’t want it to be. I didn’t expect you to actually want to marry me. You won’t even date me. But I like you, and you maybe don’t hate me, and it might be easier for us to just get married to one another than it would be to find totally strangers who’d agree to a loveless relationship of convenience.”
His hand drifted out to rest on her forearm, and she found herself actually thinking about it. He maybe had a point. “You maybe have a point,” she said. “Okay, give me a week to see if I can find anyone else and then you’re on.”
She walked away jauntily enough, but she didn’t hear his footsteps behind her, and when she peeked back over her shoulder Leela found that he was just standing there, looking at her. She felt unaccountably guilty, but brushed the emotion off as just plain silly. Fry was fine. Weird, but fine.
The week went by, slowly and annoyingly. The new marriage laws had turned the already-unchartable dating scene into a mélange of absolute lunacy, and all the good men had been snapped up, and that only left the losers, the pervs, and the mentally deficient. She’d never been on so many terrible dates in her life. Top it off with Amy’s blissful wedding to Kif, and you had a recipe for misery and frustration. “Okay, Fry,” Leela said with perhaps more volume than was strictly necessary, “I’ll marry you. But don’t think it means anything. No funny business. And I don’t want a big ceremony. And I’m not sharing a bathroom. And no—“
“It’s okay, Leela,” he said, smiling. “We can do this however you want. Don’t worry about it.”
They signed the holopapers at New City Hall, with Bender as witness. Leela wore a white tank top and combat boots; she figured that her work clothes were close enough for her, and she frankly didn’t give a damn about anyone else. But Fry had a tie on, and his hair was combed back. It made him look older, she thought, and it wasn’t a half-bad look for him. He smiled at her the whole time, that same almost-sad smile he’d had all week, and she was weirdly aware of his hands when he slid the titanium alloy ring onto her finger. She wasn’t used to wearing jewelry. It felt funny.
Hermes had informed them that their marriage wouldn’t qualify for the new laws unless they lived together, so Fry was moving into Leela’s apartment. After the ceremony, he quietly unpacked his few boxes. Most of his stuff hadn’t been worth moving, and they’d thrown in away.
Leela’s nightshirt was made of ribbed jersey cotton, and she’d never thought of it as sexy before. But she felt funny about the idea of Fry seeing her. “Fry?” she called into the darkened apartment. “What are you doing?”
He stepped into the hall. “Just trying to make the couch up into something I can sleep on,” he said quietly. He was wearing a ratty old t-shirt and boxers, and his hair was sticking up.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” she told him, clutching tightly at her fuzzy robe.
He gave her a queer little half smile. “It’s okay, Leela,” he said. ‘It’s how I always figured it would go. I know you’re not really into the idea of sharing a bed with me.”
“Fry,” she said, not looking at him, “did you want to do this? Be married to me? I mean, you’re talking about sleeping on the couch for like the rest of your life.”
“Sure, I wanted to. It was what you needed.”
“Oh, Fry, I feel like such a heel,” she said, suddenly overwhelmed by tenderness toward him. “I’m taking such advantage of you, and you’ve been so nice about everything, and, and, and.”
“It’s okay,” he said again, and then she closed her eyes and kissed him.
It was like fireworks. It was the kind of kiss you thought only happened in holovids. Leela more than half expected to hear angelic choirs start intoning hosannas all around them, or for dawn to come early. Fry was a sweet kisser – warm and gentle. She felt – loved, cherished. It was bizarre. They must have ingested something. The government must be doing another one of those mass hallucinogenic inoculations. “Fry,” she whispered against the curve of his cheek, “Oh Fry.”
She pulled him down onto her bed. She wanted to do everything at once. “Hey,” he said, smiling, reading her mind, “it’s okay. We have the rest of our lives here.”
The sex that ensued culminated in simultaneous orgasms, and Leela gave up on any concept of rational existence. It had never done her any favors, so screw it.
5. Mind Powers Are For Porn
Leela’s breasts look so great in those white tank tops, Fry thought. You wouldn’t think they’d be sexy, but they make her boobs look huge – plus they show off her shoulders. I always kind of want to lick her shoulders.
“Ugh, did something just touch me?” Leela said, bending over her console.
“No,” Amy said, rolling her eyes. “Just your imagination.”
Leela stayed bent, checking a reading – and giving Fry an amazing view of her ass. Her pants were riding low, and he could see a crescent of pale skin at her waist. He imagined what it would feel like to grab a handful of her round bottom, cup her in his hands.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Cut it out!”
“Spluh, Leela, what’s your problem?” Amy said. “Nobody’s doing anything, okay?”
Oh god. “Um,” he said, swallowing hard. “I think I am.” And then he explained everything, which was probably a really dumb thing to do, considering.
Leela raised an eyebrow. “You’re feeling me up through telekinesis?”
“Yeah, I guess so, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, please don’t kill me.” She’s going to skin me, he thought in a panic. If I’m was really extra super lucky, she might kill me before she skins me. This is so, so, so bad.
Slowly, her eyebrow went down. “Amy, take the helm, okay? I’m going to take Fry down to that ESP-proof room we put in last year. Right now he’s a menace!”
Amy nodded, programming steering over to her own console. “I’ve got it,” she chirped.
Leela led him down to an empty room – full of pillows and sheets. Auxiliary laundry? he wondered. What the hell are we doing in auxiliary laundry?
The zippers on her pants rasped as she pulled them open, stripping them off to stand there in her cotton underwear. Oh my god, Fry thought. There’s no way this is really happening.
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to look that shocked,” she said. “I mean, it’s been forever since I’ve had a boyfriend. I’m getting tired of my vibrator! I have needs, Fry, okay? And if you’re telekinetic all of a sudden, you can get me off without having sex with me, and that’s great because I want orgasms, but I don’t really want to have sex with you.”
“Wouldn’t that be weird?” he asked her. He’d never thought of doing anything like this before, and he’d thought about plenty of weird stuff before – like that idea about the melon and the whip, he didn’t even know where that one had come from – but he’d also never thought of Leela as being the kind of girl who’d be into that sort of thing. Um. If he knew what sort of thing this was, which he didn’t.
“No,” she said persuasively. “It’ll be just like we all do when we pretend everyone else isn’t masturbating in bed. We’ll just be in the same room – and my fantasies will be hyper-real, but I don’t see why that would have anything to do with you. We’ll both have fun, nobody gets hurt, nobody gets involved with anyone else, no problem. What’s weird about that?”
“Nothing, I guess,” he said. “Leela, why do you think I have tele-whatsis?”
“Telekinesis? Oh, don’t worry about it. The atmosphere on Epsilon Eridani is known to cause esper effects on some humans. There’s know way of knowing who’ll get what. It should stop in a couple of days, now that we’re off-world.”
“Okay,” he said, flopping down onto a pile of pillows, “then let’s whack off.” Grabbing his dick and thinking of her, he closed his eyes and listened to Leela’s moans of pleasure as he stroked off to dreams of her body.
Could he help it if she was really hot when she came?
6. Apocalypse
The earth about them was barren, a smoking ruin stretching out as far as their eyes – eye, in Leela’s case – could see. The sun shone dimly through a haze of smog, dust, and ash. The broken remains of cities, skyscrapers, and hovercars rose up like cubist sculptures all around them.
“So,” Leela said, “we seem to be the last two people in the Universe.”
“Yep. Wanna have sex?”
“No, not really. I’d kind of rather die celibate.”
“Oh. Okay then. Wanna go loot stuff?”
“Sure, sounds good.”
“Right then.”
And then they walked off together into the sunset.