No Romance (Rimmer/Lister, R)
Sep. 20th, 2009 06:44 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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reddwarfslashI was going to get Waiting For The Jump finished this weekend, only I got distracted and wrote this instead. Though I am actually quite proud because this is the closest I've ever gotten to full-on porn :D
Title: No Romance
Rating: R
Word Count: 1403
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister, a bit of Lister/Kochanski
Spoilers: The End
Summary: Basically pre-series angst with a sprinkling of porn. Featuring drunken Lister and in denial Rimmer. Title is a really vague Xiu Xiu reference.
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf, but that doesn't mean that this didn't happen in some parallel universe or something!
It's 2am, ship-time, and Rimmer lies awake in bed. He doesn't know if holograms are supposed to sleep, but it's a very human thing to do, and Rimmer is fond of the pretence that he's still human. And yet he's very aware that he's not, that he's dead – he can't feel the mattress underneath him and he could stick his arm through the wall next to him if he wanted, and he wouldn't feel a thing.
Being a hologram is, to some extent, losing its newness but it's a welcome distraction from what's really keeping him up. Lister went to one of the ship's bars two hours and thirty-five minutes ago, and has yet to come back.
When Rimmer was alive, Lister going out drinking – really drinking, the kind that usually results in fuzzy memories and stomach pumps – would often end with Lister crawling in Rimmer's bed. With Rimmer still in it.
The first time, it had scared Rimmer half to death, having Lister snuggle up to him. Of course, it had been an accident, a drunken mistake, and Rimmer had certainly meant to push his room mate away, to at least say something. But Lister had pressed his whole body against him, something undeniably wanton about the action, and Rimmer hadn't been able to find the words. There had been hot lager breath on his neck and an eager erection pushed against his side, and Rimmer had froze, unsure of what to do. He hadn't understood then, why his pulse had raced and his breath had caught in his throat. He did now.
It hadn't been romantic. Lister had thrust against him a few times, gasping against his neck, and then had collapsed before even coming. So Rimmer had ended up trapped in his own bed, half-buried underneath an unconscious Scouser, with an erection he really didn't want to deal with. He'd laid awake for a very long time.
He'd been glad to wake up alone the next morning, and it was all too easy to pass the whole event off as a disturbing dream, especially since Lister didn't seem to remember any of it. Except that it had happened again. Repeatedly.
The second time, he'd at least been half-expecting it – Lister crawling into his bed was a little less surprising, if still absolutely terrifying. Lister had come that time, his body stilling and fingers awkwardly clutching at Rimmer's pyjamas. The soft grunt he made seemed to echo around the room, and Rimmer had quietly reached for his own erection when Lister was asleep.
The third time, Lister had sucked on his neck, probably imagining it tasted like curry sauce. The mark had taken over a week to fade, but was thankfully concealed by his technician's uniform. Rimmer tried not to look at in the mirror.
The fourth time, Lister had been more coherent, had even kicked off his boots before climbing into the bed. Rimmer hadn't known how to feel when Lister had reached for his cock. He'd wanted to apologise for having an erection, for the inappropriateness of it all, but Lister hadn't seemed to mind. Instead he'd groaned, had jerked Rimmer off, taking his time and watching him with wide eyes. Rimmer had stared blankly at the wall, trying not to move too much. He'd resisted the urge to thank Lister afterwards.
The fifth time was different. Rimmer had gone for a walk around ten, unwilling to spend the whole evening waiting for Lister to come to him. He hadn't gone looking for Lister, but had found him almost entirely by accident in one of the ship's bars. He had expected Lister to ignore him, he'd even ordered a drink as an excuse to be there, spying on his room mate. He hadn't expected Lister to drag him into the men's toilets and drop to his knees like a cheap whore. It had been Rimmer's first (and only) blow job. He didn't quite know what to say once it was over.
It had seemed like the start of something new, that this thing was going to take hold of them and not let go until something truly horrible happened. Before, Rimmer had been able to forget about those odd nights with Lister, had been able to argue with the man like they hadn't panted together in Rimmer's bed. But after the blow job, Rimmer had found it harder to keep his mind off the subject. He couldn't stop remembering the sight of Lister's mouth wrapped around his cock, and how he had felt, shivering and terrified and alive in that tiny cubicle. He found himself eager for the next time, desperate for Lister to do highly inappropriate things to him. And then Lister met Kochanski, and it all stopped.
It was sickening, the way they were together. She'd be in their room sometimes, laughing pathetically at all Lister's terrible jokes. And then she'd stay the night, have sex with Lister right above Rimmer's smegging bed, and Rimmer would just put a pillow over his head and wish he could be anywhere else. The worst thing, though, was how Lister looked at her like she was the only thing he'd ever wanted, like he'd never crawled into Rimmer's bunk and awkwardly groped him, groaning into his neck as he came. She'd turned Lister into a simpering, romantic idiot, and it was unbearable, Even after they'd broken up, that look never really left Lister's eyes.
The sixth time was shortly after Kochanski had dumped him. Lister had crawled into his bed, drunk and desperate, and even in the darkness Rimmer knew his eyes would be ringed red. Lister had climbed on top of him, pushing their erections together and muttering nonsense. Rimmer tried to pretend he hadn't heard the word Krissie and let Lister thrust against him. Their breathing had seemed so loud in the otherwise still room, and Rimmer had been so sure that anyone walking past would know exactly what was going on. He'd been wondering if it was worth risking telling Lister to shut up, or covering his mouth with his hand or his lips, when Lister's mumblings suddenly became clearer. RimmerfuckRimmerIwannatakeya-
Rimmer shuddered and came, and for a second Lister had looked at him in that same awed way he'd look at Kochanski. But moments later Lister was in his own bunk – they both lay awake, pretending to sleep in the gloom – and Rimmer was sure he'd imagined it.
He remembered Lister's words, though, couldn't stop thinking about them. He spent hours wondering what it would be like to have Lister inside of him, experimented with a couple of fingers in the shower one morning. It was strange but not unpleasant, and Rimmer found himself suddenly wanting Lister to have him. For days, he'd been excessively horny, desperate for Lister to get drunk enough to just take him, to do it without even asking because Rimmer didn't know if he could say yes. He'd barely slept, jumping at every noise in the dark, certain it'd be Lister coming to join him. He'd usually end up masturbating while Lister snored above him, somehow simultaneously hoping and dreading that Lister would wake up and hear him.
Rimmer was constantly tired and irritated, unable to concentrate, and it was hardly surprising that the astronavigation exam went as badly as it usually did. When he was asked to fix that drive plate, he didn't even think about how odd the request was, he just fumbled his way through and then forgot all about it. The next day, Rimmer and the rest of the crew were dead.
And now he's a hologram, existing purely to keep Lister sane. The very idea is laughable – he and Lister only ever drove each other mad. And everything Rimmer had ever cared about is gone, and nothing he does had any effect, and in the end all he can do is argue with Lister, because in the end Lister is all he has.
So tonight Rimmer lies awake in bed. Lister may forget and reach for Rimmer like he used to, but it won't matter. He may be able to talk and walk around like he's still alive, but Rimmer is as dead as the rest of the crew. And yet every time Lister goes out drinking, Rimmer lies awake trying not to wish that Lister could touch him.
Title: No Romance
Rating: R
Word Count: 1403
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister, a bit of Lister/Kochanski
Spoilers: The End
Summary: Basically pre-series angst with a sprinkling of porn. Featuring drunken Lister and in denial Rimmer. Title is a really vague Xiu Xiu reference.
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf, but that doesn't mean that this didn't happen in some parallel universe or something!
It's 2am, ship-time, and Rimmer lies awake in bed. He doesn't know if holograms are supposed to sleep, but it's a very human thing to do, and Rimmer is fond of the pretence that he's still human. And yet he's very aware that he's not, that he's dead – he can't feel the mattress underneath him and he could stick his arm through the wall next to him if he wanted, and he wouldn't feel a thing.
Being a hologram is, to some extent, losing its newness but it's a welcome distraction from what's really keeping him up. Lister went to one of the ship's bars two hours and thirty-five minutes ago, and has yet to come back.
When Rimmer was alive, Lister going out drinking – really drinking, the kind that usually results in fuzzy memories and stomach pumps – would often end with Lister crawling in Rimmer's bed. With Rimmer still in it.
The first time, it had scared Rimmer half to death, having Lister snuggle up to him. Of course, it had been an accident, a drunken mistake, and Rimmer had certainly meant to push his room mate away, to at least say something. But Lister had pressed his whole body against him, something undeniably wanton about the action, and Rimmer hadn't been able to find the words. There had been hot lager breath on his neck and an eager erection pushed against his side, and Rimmer had froze, unsure of what to do. He hadn't understood then, why his pulse had raced and his breath had caught in his throat. He did now.
It hadn't been romantic. Lister had thrust against him a few times, gasping against his neck, and then had collapsed before even coming. So Rimmer had ended up trapped in his own bed, half-buried underneath an unconscious Scouser, with an erection he really didn't want to deal with. He'd laid awake for a very long time.
He'd been glad to wake up alone the next morning, and it was all too easy to pass the whole event off as a disturbing dream, especially since Lister didn't seem to remember any of it. Except that it had happened again. Repeatedly.
The second time, he'd at least been half-expecting it – Lister crawling into his bed was a little less surprising, if still absolutely terrifying. Lister had come that time, his body stilling and fingers awkwardly clutching at Rimmer's pyjamas. The soft grunt he made seemed to echo around the room, and Rimmer had quietly reached for his own erection when Lister was asleep.
The third time, Lister had sucked on his neck, probably imagining it tasted like curry sauce. The mark had taken over a week to fade, but was thankfully concealed by his technician's uniform. Rimmer tried not to look at in the mirror.
The fourth time, Lister had been more coherent, had even kicked off his boots before climbing into the bed. Rimmer hadn't known how to feel when Lister had reached for his cock. He'd wanted to apologise for having an erection, for the inappropriateness of it all, but Lister hadn't seemed to mind. Instead he'd groaned, had jerked Rimmer off, taking his time and watching him with wide eyes. Rimmer had stared blankly at the wall, trying not to move too much. He'd resisted the urge to thank Lister afterwards.
The fifth time was different. Rimmer had gone for a walk around ten, unwilling to spend the whole evening waiting for Lister to come to him. He hadn't gone looking for Lister, but had found him almost entirely by accident in one of the ship's bars. He had expected Lister to ignore him, he'd even ordered a drink as an excuse to be there, spying on his room mate. He hadn't expected Lister to drag him into the men's toilets and drop to his knees like a cheap whore. It had been Rimmer's first (and only) blow job. He didn't quite know what to say once it was over.
It had seemed like the start of something new, that this thing was going to take hold of them and not let go until something truly horrible happened. Before, Rimmer had been able to forget about those odd nights with Lister, had been able to argue with the man like they hadn't panted together in Rimmer's bed. But after the blow job, Rimmer had found it harder to keep his mind off the subject. He couldn't stop remembering the sight of Lister's mouth wrapped around his cock, and how he had felt, shivering and terrified and alive in that tiny cubicle. He found himself eager for the next time, desperate for Lister to do highly inappropriate things to him. And then Lister met Kochanski, and it all stopped.
It was sickening, the way they were together. She'd be in their room sometimes, laughing pathetically at all Lister's terrible jokes. And then she'd stay the night, have sex with Lister right above Rimmer's smegging bed, and Rimmer would just put a pillow over his head and wish he could be anywhere else. The worst thing, though, was how Lister looked at her like she was the only thing he'd ever wanted, like he'd never crawled into Rimmer's bunk and awkwardly groped him, groaning into his neck as he came. She'd turned Lister into a simpering, romantic idiot, and it was unbearable, Even after they'd broken up, that look never really left Lister's eyes.
The sixth time was shortly after Kochanski had dumped him. Lister had crawled into his bed, drunk and desperate, and even in the darkness Rimmer knew his eyes would be ringed red. Lister had climbed on top of him, pushing their erections together and muttering nonsense. Rimmer tried to pretend he hadn't heard the word Krissie and let Lister thrust against him. Their breathing had seemed so loud in the otherwise still room, and Rimmer had been so sure that anyone walking past would know exactly what was going on. He'd been wondering if it was worth risking telling Lister to shut up, or covering his mouth with his hand or his lips, when Lister's mumblings suddenly became clearer. RimmerfuckRimmerIwannatakeya-
Rimmer shuddered and came, and for a second Lister had looked at him in that same awed way he'd look at Kochanski. But moments later Lister was in his own bunk – they both lay awake, pretending to sleep in the gloom – and Rimmer was sure he'd imagined it.
He remembered Lister's words, though, couldn't stop thinking about them. He spent hours wondering what it would be like to have Lister inside of him, experimented with a couple of fingers in the shower one morning. It was strange but not unpleasant, and Rimmer found himself suddenly wanting Lister to have him. For days, he'd been excessively horny, desperate for Lister to get drunk enough to just take him, to do it without even asking because Rimmer didn't know if he could say yes. He'd barely slept, jumping at every noise in the dark, certain it'd be Lister coming to join him. He'd usually end up masturbating while Lister snored above him, somehow simultaneously hoping and dreading that Lister would wake up and hear him.
Rimmer was constantly tired and irritated, unable to concentrate, and it was hardly surprising that the astronavigation exam went as badly as it usually did. When he was asked to fix that drive plate, he didn't even think about how odd the request was, he just fumbled his way through and then forgot all about it. The next day, Rimmer and the rest of the crew were dead.
And now he's a hologram, existing purely to keep Lister sane. The very idea is laughable – he and Lister only ever drove each other mad. And everything Rimmer had ever cared about is gone, and nothing he does had any effect, and in the end all he can do is argue with Lister, because in the end Lister is all he has.
So tonight Rimmer lies awake in bed. Lister may forget and reach for Rimmer like he used to, but it won't matter. He may be able to talk and walk around like he's still alive, but Rimmer is as dead as the rest of the crew. And yet every time Lister goes out drinking, Rimmer lies awake trying not to wish that Lister could touch him.
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no subject
Date: 2009-09-20 07:11 pm (UTC)*sighs* poor little holo-boy! *cuddles rimmsy* The last paragraph killed me.
Great fic. And believable as well. Really. Can't even pick my favourite bits, because they're all great and very clever.
Good job ♥. Thank you for sharing:).
no subject
Date: 2009-09-23 06:35 pm (UTC)Nooooo! I'm a murderer! *brings you back as a hologram*
I'm really glad you liked it :D
no subject
Date: 2009-09-20 11:20 pm (UTC)And, of course, yay for porniness... =]
xXx
no subject
Date: 2009-09-23 06:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-21 01:38 am (UTC)Would love to see a second part when Rimmer gets Hard LIght... *devious* :D
no subject
Date: 2009-09-23 06:41 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment (and randomly inspiring me)!
no subject
Date: 2009-09-23 06:57 pm (UTC)*Glee*!!! :)
Welcomes!! :)
*excited!!* :D
no subject
Date: 2009-10-06 07:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-21 10:11 pm (UTC)Love it. Can't go wrong with bitter-sweet hawtness.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-23 06:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-22 05:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-23 06:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-23 10:28 pm (UTC)He'd been wondering if it was worth risking telling Lister to shut up, or covering his mouth with his hand or his lips, when Lister's mumblings suddenly became clearer. RimmerfuckRimmerIwannatakeya-
Rimmer shuddered and came, and for a second Lister had looked at him in that same awed way he'd look at Kochanski
Love it!
no subject
Date: 2009-09-29 07:43 am (UTC)Aww, what a good fic.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-07 01:25 am (UTC)