Fic: Escapist Fantasy: NC-17
May. 17th, 2008 02:14 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
hazeltea.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
reddwarfslash Warning: het sex, but slash subtext. Rotten tomatoes on standby! XD
Pairing: Lister/female AR, Rimmer/Lister implied
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf, and I do not profit from this. I just do this to amuse myself.
Lister hissed in frustration as he fumbled with the buckles of the AR machine harness, not able to strip down and plug into his CG fantasy quickly enough. One by one, the buckles clicked into place with the precision of his practiced hands, and he took a deep breath as he reached out a hand to flick through the collection of game disks. Any would do, really, he only needed a component, a sprite that would spend an hour with him, even twenty minutes, really. Just enough time to forget that he was on Starbug, just enough to forget the hysterical edge in Rimmer’s voice as he screamed abuse at him for some minor offense or other. Just enough time to forget, for a while, that he was Dave Lister.
The cycle was self perpetuating; Rimmer hated when he had sex in the AR machine, and so Lister did, partially because Rimmer hated it so much, but mostly, he insisted, because he had run out of cigarettes, and a man needed at least one vice. He’d never become one of those spaced out game heads, no matter what Rimmer had to say about it. For awhile, he’d thought that Rimmer was jealous of his exploits, until it occurred to him that Rimmer could plug himself into the machine as easily as he did, yet for some reason, resisted. It certainly wasn’t because he was a gentleman, Lister scoffed, fingering a slightly scratched disc and sliding it into the dock. It could only be Rimmer’s sadistic desire to drive him crazy, when the smegger was supposed to be keeping him sane.
Within moments, the familiar feeling of being lifted from his body overtook him, and when he opened his eyes, he was in an ornate office. A stern looking woman sat behind a massive mahogany desk, her thick, dark hair pinned austerely into a bun, her pale skin enhanced by the hue of the burgundy velvet curtains behind her. She turned her deep emerald eyes on him, and his heart skipped a beat as she regarded him with the slightest of grins.
“Evenin’ Prime Minister.” He breathed, the only name he ever called her. He advanced towards her. This sprite wasn’t programmed with much personality, but on a day like today, that was just fine with him. It had taken him months to screw up the courage to proposition this particular sprite; the type of woman who was out of his league, she reminded him of the occasional young teacher that had caught his fancy as a boy. It had been almost effortless to play as her bodyguard, as he knew it would be, but it still came as a bit of a shock to him, even now.
Wordlessly, she captured his lips in a kiss, and Lister stopped wondering if it was odd and somehow wrong to be taking advantage of someone or something that could only, to his knowledge, utter five set phrases; comforting himself with the logic that she seemed to be enjoying herself well enough right now. He deepened the kiss, reaching his hand into her hair to pull the pins free, as he always did. He smiled against her lips as he ran his fingers through the soft curls, the change in hairstyle changing her design dramatically to something soft and accessible.
His hands slid over her sides lightly, feeling the hint of her figure through her designer silk suit. He nuzzled at her throat, noting that she could gasp convincingly, even if she wasn’t much for conversation. She even smelled nice, a sort of crisp linen scent with a musky undertone that registered as familiar somewhere in his mind, although he couldn’t quite place it. He felt her nails through the fabric of his shirt as her fingers struggled to pull his shirt loose, and he pulled away just long enough to discard the unwanted garment and catch a glimpse of her parted lips and the buttons of her blouse stretched taut over her heaving bosom. With a low groan, he pulled her fussy blouse open, sending a shower of tiny pearlized buttons scattering across the floor. She pulled him forwards, until he had her leaning backwards across the desk. Lister pulled himself onto the desk in one swift motion, pinning her neatly with his body as his hands, clad in the decorative kidskin gloves of his character’s position were free to roam, to fondle her pert breasts, to tease her inner thighs, to watch her squirm; knowing that she was too uptight to do anything that felt like this without his intervention.
Her arms laced around his neck and her hips bucked forward, insistently, and he struggled with his belt buckle, finally kicking his pants down to his knees, not caring when they caught on his boots. In fact, he relished the scene, here, hiking up her skirt, mounting her half dressed, as the morning’s meeting minutes were tossed about under their writhing bodies. Her greenish eyes were glazed over in wonder as he thrust, perhaps harder than he should have, channeling his frustrations, loneliness, and fear into this single physical act.
His orgasm came all too soon, and he was quiet as he sat up, stroking the hair of the mute sprite who could only bother to address him directly when giving military orders. He kissed her forehead, feeling as though he should thank her in some way, but she wouldn’t understand. She hadn’t been blessed with the AI of a mechanoid or a hologram. It was just a game, after all; and he was glad that he had it. It was just that whatever he was looking for wasn’t to be found here. With a sigh, Lister clapped his hands, and opened his eyes.
Pairing: Lister/female AR, Rimmer/Lister implied
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf, and I do not profit from this. I just do this to amuse myself.
Lister hissed in frustration as he fumbled with the buckles of the AR machine harness, not able to strip down and plug into his CG fantasy quickly enough. One by one, the buckles clicked into place with the precision of his practiced hands, and he took a deep breath as he reached out a hand to flick through the collection of game disks. Any would do, really, he only needed a component, a sprite that would spend an hour with him, even twenty minutes, really. Just enough time to forget that he was on Starbug, just enough to forget the hysterical edge in Rimmer’s voice as he screamed abuse at him for some minor offense or other. Just enough time to forget, for a while, that he was Dave Lister.
The cycle was self perpetuating; Rimmer hated when he had sex in the AR machine, and so Lister did, partially because Rimmer hated it so much, but mostly, he insisted, because he had run out of cigarettes, and a man needed at least one vice. He’d never become one of those spaced out game heads, no matter what Rimmer had to say about it. For awhile, he’d thought that Rimmer was jealous of his exploits, until it occurred to him that Rimmer could plug himself into the machine as easily as he did, yet for some reason, resisted. It certainly wasn’t because he was a gentleman, Lister scoffed, fingering a slightly scratched disc and sliding it into the dock. It could only be Rimmer’s sadistic desire to drive him crazy, when the smegger was supposed to be keeping him sane.
Within moments, the familiar feeling of being lifted from his body overtook him, and when he opened his eyes, he was in an ornate office. A stern looking woman sat behind a massive mahogany desk, her thick, dark hair pinned austerely into a bun, her pale skin enhanced by the hue of the burgundy velvet curtains behind her. She turned her deep emerald eyes on him, and his heart skipped a beat as she regarded him with the slightest of grins.
“Evenin’ Prime Minister.” He breathed, the only name he ever called her. He advanced towards her. This sprite wasn’t programmed with much personality, but on a day like today, that was just fine with him. It had taken him months to screw up the courage to proposition this particular sprite; the type of woman who was out of his league, she reminded him of the occasional young teacher that had caught his fancy as a boy. It had been almost effortless to play as her bodyguard, as he knew it would be, but it still came as a bit of a shock to him, even now.
Wordlessly, she captured his lips in a kiss, and Lister stopped wondering if it was odd and somehow wrong to be taking advantage of someone or something that could only, to his knowledge, utter five set phrases; comforting himself with the logic that she seemed to be enjoying herself well enough right now. He deepened the kiss, reaching his hand into her hair to pull the pins free, as he always did. He smiled against her lips as he ran his fingers through the soft curls, the change in hairstyle changing her design dramatically to something soft and accessible.
His hands slid over her sides lightly, feeling the hint of her figure through her designer silk suit. He nuzzled at her throat, noting that she could gasp convincingly, even if she wasn’t much for conversation. She even smelled nice, a sort of crisp linen scent with a musky undertone that registered as familiar somewhere in his mind, although he couldn’t quite place it. He felt her nails through the fabric of his shirt as her fingers struggled to pull his shirt loose, and he pulled away just long enough to discard the unwanted garment and catch a glimpse of her parted lips and the buttons of her blouse stretched taut over her heaving bosom. With a low groan, he pulled her fussy blouse open, sending a shower of tiny pearlized buttons scattering across the floor. She pulled him forwards, until he had her leaning backwards across the desk. Lister pulled himself onto the desk in one swift motion, pinning her neatly with his body as his hands, clad in the decorative kidskin gloves of his character’s position were free to roam, to fondle her pert breasts, to tease her inner thighs, to watch her squirm; knowing that she was too uptight to do anything that felt like this without his intervention.
Her arms laced around his neck and her hips bucked forward, insistently, and he struggled with his belt buckle, finally kicking his pants down to his knees, not caring when they caught on his boots. In fact, he relished the scene, here, hiking up her skirt, mounting her half dressed, as the morning’s meeting minutes were tossed about under their writhing bodies. Her greenish eyes were glazed over in wonder as he thrust, perhaps harder than he should have, channeling his frustrations, loneliness, and fear into this single physical act.
His orgasm came all too soon, and he was quiet as he sat up, stroking the hair of the mute sprite who could only bother to address him directly when giving military orders. He kissed her forehead, feeling as though he should thank her in some way, but she wouldn’t understand. She hadn’t been blessed with the AI of a mechanoid or a hologram. It was just a game, after all; and he was glad that he had it. It was just that whatever he was looking for wasn’t to be found here. With a sigh, Lister clapped his hands, and opened his eyes.
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Date: 2008-05-17 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-18 02:31 am (UTC)Glad to deliver, as always!
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Date: 2008-05-20 01:51 am (UTC)This is lovely...very clever subtle slash. Poor confused, frustrated Lister. :(
no subject
Date: 2008-05-21 05:41 am (UTC)