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reddwarfslash2009-02-21 12:04 am
hazeltea.livejournal.com) wrote in reddwarfslash2009-02-21 12:04 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Crescendo (G)
Pairing: Lister/Rimmer
Pure UST fluff. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
queen_fiend Happy Birthday! <3
Rimmer winced as Lister plucked out an off key tune on his guitar, half murmuring a humming accompaniment. He’d endured the sound for years, now, and was almost able to tune the jarring, disjointed notes out into background noise, the way you might if you had the misfortune to own a house beside an airport or a fire station, he supposed. There was only one scenario in which he found he couldn’t manage it, and that was when he knew the blasted song that Lister was mangling.
Lister coughed softly, and resumed his half hummed singing, his voice cracking occasionally, a nasal humming camouflaging the words he didn’t know. It’s “light”, you smegging idiot , he fumed to himself. It’s such an awfully obvious rhyme. Really. I mean, really, Lister.
Lister’s brow furrowed in concentration as he pressed hard on the strings, attempting to strike a higher note. The half clicking pluck, a flat note gone sour, was the last straw. Rimmer jumped to his feet and stomped forward, his face twisting in rage. “LISTER!” he shouted.
There was a moment of silence, and Lister met his eyes, a curious look in his face, as if he had no idea what had prompted the outburst. Ludicrous! How dare he feign innocence! It was clearly a well planned scheme to slowly drive him absolutely bonkers.
“Rimmer?” Lister asked, leaving the conversation annoyingly open ended.
Rimmer sputtered for a moment before crossing his arms. “That is supposed to be a sharp, Lister. A D sharp. Two E strings do not a D sharp make.” He glared at the much abused guitar to illustrate his point.
“I make do, Rimmer.” Lister shrugged. “Since when were you a musical authority?”
“Since I was born with ears.” Rimmer grumbled. “Besides, I know what I’m talking about. I had to take lessons when I was on Io.”
“I wouldn’t call what you do to the Hammond organ music, Rimmer.” Lister sighed.
“Well, it’s not like I can do damn well anything to it now!” he spat, turning his back. He flexed his hologramatic fingers in frustration. “It’s not easy, you know. I can’t bloody well play the Hammond organ. I can’t even put my foot through your hideous guitar. I have to put up with you and that smegging noise day in and day out with your talentless, retching Rastabilly Skank. I ask you Lister, is this any way to spend an afterlife?”
Lister eyed him thoughtfully as he chewed a fuscia guitar pick. “Look, I know.” He said, after a moment. “You’ve been acting tense lately, you know. So I thought this might make you feel better.”
Rimmer frowned, sneaking a glance at Lister’s open expression. It made him uneasy. “You think playing that… that… guitar will make me feel better?” he asked, his voice icy.
“Well, sort of.” Lister said. “I learned some songs from your albums, well, the ones that didn’t make me want to vomit. I thought it’d get you into the spirit of it all.”
Rimmer’s ears were growing red.
“D’you want me to do some Rastabilly Skank?” Lister asked, softly.
Rimmer would not meet his eyes. “Maybe that’d be best.”
Pure UST fluff. For
queen_fiend Happy Birthday! <3 Rimmer winced as Lister plucked out an off key tune on his guitar, half murmuring a humming accompaniment. He’d endured the sound for years, now, and was almost able to tune the jarring, disjointed notes out into background noise, the way you might if you had the misfortune to own a house beside an airport or a fire station, he supposed. There was only one scenario in which he found he couldn’t manage it, and that was when he knew the blasted song that Lister was mangling.
Lister coughed softly, and resumed his half hummed singing, his voice cracking occasionally, a nasal humming camouflaging the words he didn’t know. It’s “light”, you smegging idiot , he fumed to himself. It’s such an awfully obvious rhyme. Really. I mean, really, Lister.
Lister’s brow furrowed in concentration as he pressed hard on the strings, attempting to strike a higher note. The half clicking pluck, a flat note gone sour, was the last straw. Rimmer jumped to his feet and stomped forward, his face twisting in rage. “LISTER!” he shouted.
There was a moment of silence, and Lister met his eyes, a curious look in his face, as if he had no idea what had prompted the outburst. Ludicrous! How dare he feign innocence! It was clearly a well planned scheme to slowly drive him absolutely bonkers.
“Rimmer?” Lister asked, leaving the conversation annoyingly open ended.
Rimmer sputtered for a moment before crossing his arms. “That is supposed to be a sharp, Lister. A D sharp. Two E strings do not a D sharp make.” He glared at the much abused guitar to illustrate his point.
“I make do, Rimmer.” Lister shrugged. “Since when were you a musical authority?”
“Since I was born with ears.” Rimmer grumbled. “Besides, I know what I’m talking about. I had to take lessons when I was on Io.”
“I wouldn’t call what you do to the Hammond organ music, Rimmer.” Lister sighed.
“Well, it’s not like I can do damn well anything to it now!” he spat, turning his back. He flexed his hologramatic fingers in frustration. “It’s not easy, you know. I can’t bloody well play the Hammond organ. I can’t even put my foot through your hideous guitar. I have to put up with you and that smegging noise day in and day out with your talentless, retching Rastabilly Skank. I ask you Lister, is this any way to spend an afterlife?”
Lister eyed him thoughtfully as he chewed a fuscia guitar pick. “Look, I know.” He said, after a moment. “You’ve been acting tense lately, you know. So I thought this might make you feel better.”
Rimmer frowned, sneaking a glance at Lister’s open expression. It made him uneasy. “You think playing that… that… guitar will make me feel better?” he asked, his voice icy.
“Well, sort of.” Lister said. “I learned some songs from your albums, well, the ones that didn’t make me want to vomit. I thought it’d get you into the spirit of it all.”
Rimmer’s ears were growing red.
“D’you want me to do some Rastabilly Skank?” Lister asked, softly.
Rimmer would not meet his eyes. “Maybe that’d be best.”
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