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reddwarfslashDidn't feel like writing on any of my current stories, so I went through the kink meme update/master post and found one that struck me. (not directly upside the head, but close enough).
Title: (Non) Fiction
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kronette
Notes: For the prompt "Back to Earth Lister/Rimmer, rewriting the script. "
Spoilers: Back to Earth
It was a momentary lift of his emotions. Lister typed away, letting years of frustration and loneliness and helplessness flow out of him onto the paper. It was a laugh for a minute or two, then the possibilities came unbidden to his mind. What it could mean. What he could do if he played at being the Creator. His fingers stilled and the pained noises behind him stopped.
Unable to face the wrath of Kryten and Cat, he quickly typed them returning to the ship, giving them a reprieve from his descent into childishness. That left one annoyed hologram standing beside him, breathing heavily.
"That was mean and cruel and I can't believe you'd stoop so low," Rimmer growled at him, and he wasn't wrong.
"I know," he whispered, unable to sort out the chaotic swirl of feelings crushing his chest. He needed. He wanted. He didn't dare. His fingers twitched on the keys.
Rimmer hovered over him, stifling the air, making it harder to breathe.
"Back away, Rimmer," he warned with a scratchy throat, feeling his control slipping. He'd focused on Kochanski because it was easier. He loved Kochanski. It had always been Kochanski. No one else.
Rimmer placed a hand next to the typewriter and one on the back of Lister's chair in order to snark in his ear, "You're not God or the Creator or whatever that delirious idiot thought he was. You best step away from that infernal machine, miladdo, before any more damage is done."
His fingertips stroked the cool keys, wanting yet afraid to move. He'd focused on Kochanski because it was easier than facing what he already had. What had been there all along. What had been taunting and teasing and niggling at the back of his mind and in the recesses of his heart for years.
A tear slipped down his cheek as he forcibly removed his hands from the typewriter. What Rimmer thought about him was wrong. He wasn't cruel or heartless. Whatever mess he'd made of his life, he wouldn't rewrite it to make everything come out the way he wanted.
He turned in the chair and stared into Rimmer's eyes, so close to his own. Rimmer stayed silent, searching his gaze for answers to questions they never dared ask aloud; for answers kept in the shadows of dreams.
Rimmer licked his lips and said on the barest of whispers, "Rimmer leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lister's mouth."
Lister's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't move. He couldn't; frozen by whatever was in the air between them.
Eyes bright with knowledge and warm with emotion, Rimmer repeated, "Rimmer leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lister's mouth."
Lister had to break that gaze in order to see the keys, and his fingers shook as he typed, 'Rimmer leaned down and pressed' and stopped.
Rimmer's voice was strained. "Finish it."
He shook his head. "It won't be real. None of this is real. It's all some made up smeg…"
Rimmer's presence was at his back, arms around his shoulders as Rimmer's long fingers replaced his on the keys.
'his lips over Listers then bent hm backwards over the table and has his wicked way withim.'
Lister stared at the words, black glaring against the stark white paper, but didn't feel compelled to turn around. He jumped slightly as Rimmer's hands covered his on the table, then gasped as dry lips touched the side of his neck.
"This machine can't make you do anything you don't already want to do," Rimmer murmured in his ear before nipping at the lobe.
"Who says I want this?" Lister asked, hearing the lie in his words. He furthered the lie by tilting his head back and to the side, implicitly granting Rimmer permission.
After a too-brief lick and kiss to the side of his neck, Rimmer picked up his hands and placed them back on the keys. "Tell me what you want."
"I can't." He started to tremble, but Rimmer's hands stayed his on the keys.
Rimmer's thumbs rubbed across the tops of his hands as he murmured, "Because this isn't real, or because that is?"
He whispered nervously, "Yes." With effort, he slipped his hands from beneath Rimmer's, but remained staring down at the typewriter. "If this thing between us happens here, will we remember it? Will it have happened, or will we just think it happened, or will it have been a dream?"
Rimmer's voice was quiet. "In the end, does it matter whether it's real or not?"
In a sudden fit of anger, Lister burst out of the chair, sending Rimmer staggering back as he yelled, "Of course it matters! I don't want a figment of my imagination or whatever the smeg this is; I want you, out there in the real world. If you can't handle that, then tell me now and I'll burn that page so this never happened." He pointed a shaking finger at the typewriter, which had remained silent since Rimmer's touch.
Rimmer's watery gaze met his. "I thought it would be easier, typing out what I wanted to happen, but life isn't like that. I don't know where to go from here, Lister."
Lister stared at the man he'd known for almost half of his life and saw him immobilized by fear – of the unknown, of the possibilities; of upsetting the balance. He asked gently, "Why don't you start by telling me what it is you want to happen, and I'll tell you if it can."
He watched as Rimmer licked his lips again, feeling something tighten in his chest. "I want you, whether you're real or a dream or a ghost of who you used to be."
His heart began thudding in anticipation of Rimmer's answer to his prompt: "How about something a bit more specific? Something simple. You can ask me anything, Rimmer."
Like a shy child asking for another biscuit, Rimmer pled with a desperate look in his eyes, "Kiss me?"
He began to walk toward Rimmer, keeping their gazes locked. The desperation was chased away by fear and anticipation, but through it all, Lister could feel love struggling to be seen. He brought his hand up slowly, yet Rimmer still twitched as his fingertips touched the hologram's cheek. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Rimmer flinch from a touch, but it was another thing they never talked about. Maybe, with time and love, Rimmer would be able to tell him. For now, his thumb brushed Rimmer's cheekbone before angling his head down for a chaste kiss.
He left his hand cupping Rimmer's cheek as he pulled back. "How was that?"
He stood still as Rimmer's hand came up to touch his jawline. His breathing deepened as Rimmer's hand slid around the back of his neck to pull him closer. It was a hesitant touch, and he could feel the trembling of Rimmer's lips against his. He nudged closer, making the contact more firm. A weight encircled his waist; Rimmer's arm snaking around to draw him in tight. He reciprocated in kind, sliding a hand up Rimmer's back as his other played with the hair at the nape of Rimmer's neck.
When Rimmer's lips parted and his tongue flicked out to lick the seam of his lips, Lister went from a warm, content feeling to electric shock as the full force of Rimmer's emotions slammed into him. Gone was the lazy exploration; replaced by years of pent-up desire being unleashed.
Before Rimmer's wandering hands got any further inside his clothes, Lister pulled away to gather his breath and his thoughts. "Give us a minute, Rimmer."
He saw annoyance and hurt flicker in Rimmer's expression before the hologram turned away. "I knew it was too good to be true."
Heart hammering in his chest, lips slick and skin tingling, Lister could only shake his head. "I need a breather, is all. And I have a question."
"What?" Rimmer asked, his tone dejected.
Sounding braver than he felt, Lister asked, "Do you want to risk doing this here, or risk it there?"
Rimmer spun around, his expression unreadable. It wasn't the first time Lister had trouble figuring out Rimmer's emotions, but never had the stakes been so high. They were so close to crossing a threshold that had existed for almost twenty years. What happened when it was crossed? Did everything magically change or did it all remain mostly the same?
Rimmer's voice cracked as he asked with more than a hint of disbelief, "You still want me?"
He tried to force his mouth into a smile, but he was afraid his nerves made it look warped. "Of course I do, you daft smeghead. I wouldn't have done kissed you if I didn't. I just need to know if you're prepared for…whatever happens next."
Some of Rimmer's walls fell, and Lister was buffeted by his nervousness and worry. "What about Kochanski? What if she's really out there? Will I be an afterthought if you find her?"
He drew Rimmer to him with a hand at his waist and struggled to meet his gaze. "I have a confession. I've used her as a buffer to keep you at arm's length. I was afraid of changing what we had. I told myself she was who I wanted, because it was easier than facing wanting you."
His explanation drew a pained frown. "Am I so hideously unlovable that you'd rather cling to a fantasy woman than be with a real man?"
He kissed Rimmer's frown until it softened. "No, Rimmer, you're not unlovable. You make it hard, don't get me wrong, but underneath all the smeg is someone worth knowing and worth loving. It's just…you're not the only one who's scared. Going from the comfortable place we've lived in for twenty years – the insults, the lonely days, the friendship we've developed – to something more is a big step. How could we live together if we knew we wouldn't work as a couple? It was easier to not know; to go on pretending it wasn't there. But it is there, and I'm ready to try if you are."
Rimmer licked his lips nervously. "I don’t want to try, Lister. I want us to work. I just… don't know how."
At hearing the other man's confession, Lister's smile was full-blown and genuine. "Hey, I know. I feel the same way." He glanced toward the typewriter. "So, what do you say? Should we chuck it in the fireplace, or write up our own happy ending?"
Rimmer's gaze never left his face. "Even if we type 'happily ever after', it won't be as easy as that, will it?"
His smile faded. "No, it won't. We'll still have our differences and our fights. We'll have to learn to live together as a couple, rather than two people who share a room. But if we work at it together, we can get our happy ending."
He watched as Rimmer swallowed nervously. "How do we get back? I mean, you wrote that Cat and Kryten returned to the ship. Do we need to write ourselves returning to the real world?"
Lister gnawed on his lower lip as he thought. "I've got an idea. It'll be a hardship, but I think if we work together, we'll make it." Certain he had Rimmer's full attention, he whispered, "Rimmer and Lister kissed until the world faded away, only to return to the ship still wrapped in each other's arms."
Without prompting, Rimmer bent down to meet him in a kiss that made Lister's knees weak. Feeling everything fade away to nothing except the very real man in his arms, he kept his eyes closed until he heard twin gasps from Kryten and Cat. Even then, he held tightly to Rimmer, sensing the other man wanted to pull away in shame or embarrassment.
When he finally released Rimmer, he could feel the other man shaking in his arms.
"We're back," Rimmer said unnecessarily.
"And we're still wrapped in each other's arms," he noted with a quick pinch to Rimmer's posterior. "Are you okay? Breathe, Rimmer."
Rimmer took a few deep breaths, which seemed to relax him. "What happens now?"
He took Rimmer's hand in his. "Now, we transfer the water out of the tank with the squid ink, run it through the filters, and spend a good deal of time scrubbing the ink off of each other."
"Oh, sirs, is that really necessary?" Kryten huffed, clearly agitated. "Surely we can spare enough water for you to take separate showers."
"Missing the point, Kryten," Lister replied distractedly. "I want to shower with Rimmer. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other better."
At that, Rimmer's cheeks pinked. "It will?" he squeaked. "But – oh. Oh." As the light bulb went on in Rimmer's head, Lister smiled wickedly.
"Yeah, real better." He directed his next statements to Kryten and Cat. "Don't bother us for a few hours, lads. Maybe the rest of the night. We have a lot of ground to cover." He looked Rimmer up and down, enjoying the heavy-lidded gaze that shone back at him.
Rimmer surprised him by adding in a low voice, "And uncover."
He shivered as he was inspected head to toe, feeling warmth spread to all the cold places he thought could never feel again. His grip tightened on Rimmer's hand and he kissed him softly.
Together, they started the subroutine to filter the water, so by the time they reached their quarters, the shower was ready for them.
The End
Title: (Non) Fiction
Author:
kronetteNotes: For the prompt "Back to Earth Lister/Rimmer, rewriting the script. "
Spoilers: Back to Earth
It was a momentary lift of his emotions. Lister typed away, letting years of frustration and loneliness and helplessness flow out of him onto the paper. It was a laugh for a minute or two, then the possibilities came unbidden to his mind. What it could mean. What he could do if he played at being the Creator. His fingers stilled and the pained noises behind him stopped.
Unable to face the wrath of Kryten and Cat, he quickly typed them returning to the ship, giving them a reprieve from his descent into childishness. That left one annoyed hologram standing beside him, breathing heavily.
"That was mean and cruel and I can't believe you'd stoop so low," Rimmer growled at him, and he wasn't wrong.
"I know," he whispered, unable to sort out the chaotic swirl of feelings crushing his chest. He needed. He wanted. He didn't dare. His fingers twitched on the keys.
Rimmer hovered over him, stifling the air, making it harder to breathe.
"Back away, Rimmer," he warned with a scratchy throat, feeling his control slipping. He'd focused on Kochanski because it was easier. He loved Kochanski. It had always been Kochanski. No one else.
Rimmer placed a hand next to the typewriter and one on the back of Lister's chair in order to snark in his ear, "You're not God or the Creator or whatever that delirious idiot thought he was. You best step away from that infernal machine, miladdo, before any more damage is done."
His fingertips stroked the cool keys, wanting yet afraid to move. He'd focused on Kochanski because it was easier than facing what he already had. What had been there all along. What had been taunting and teasing and niggling at the back of his mind and in the recesses of his heart for years.
A tear slipped down his cheek as he forcibly removed his hands from the typewriter. What Rimmer thought about him was wrong. He wasn't cruel or heartless. Whatever mess he'd made of his life, he wouldn't rewrite it to make everything come out the way he wanted.
He turned in the chair and stared into Rimmer's eyes, so close to his own. Rimmer stayed silent, searching his gaze for answers to questions they never dared ask aloud; for answers kept in the shadows of dreams.
Rimmer licked his lips and said on the barest of whispers, "Rimmer leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lister's mouth."
Lister's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't move. He couldn't; frozen by whatever was in the air between them.
Eyes bright with knowledge and warm with emotion, Rimmer repeated, "Rimmer leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lister's mouth."
Lister had to break that gaze in order to see the keys, and his fingers shook as he typed, 'Rimmer leaned down and pressed' and stopped.
Rimmer's voice was strained. "Finish it."
He shook his head. "It won't be real. None of this is real. It's all some made up smeg…"
Rimmer's presence was at his back, arms around his shoulders as Rimmer's long fingers replaced his on the keys.
'his lips over Listers then bent hm backwards over the table and has his wicked way withim.'
Lister stared at the words, black glaring against the stark white paper, but didn't feel compelled to turn around. He jumped slightly as Rimmer's hands covered his on the table, then gasped as dry lips touched the side of his neck.
"This machine can't make you do anything you don't already want to do," Rimmer murmured in his ear before nipping at the lobe.
"Who says I want this?" Lister asked, hearing the lie in his words. He furthered the lie by tilting his head back and to the side, implicitly granting Rimmer permission.
After a too-brief lick and kiss to the side of his neck, Rimmer picked up his hands and placed them back on the keys. "Tell me what you want."
"I can't." He started to tremble, but Rimmer's hands stayed his on the keys.
Rimmer's thumbs rubbed across the tops of his hands as he murmured, "Because this isn't real, or because that is?"
He whispered nervously, "Yes." With effort, he slipped his hands from beneath Rimmer's, but remained staring down at the typewriter. "If this thing between us happens here, will we remember it? Will it have happened, or will we just think it happened, or will it have been a dream?"
Rimmer's voice was quiet. "In the end, does it matter whether it's real or not?"
In a sudden fit of anger, Lister burst out of the chair, sending Rimmer staggering back as he yelled, "Of course it matters! I don't want a figment of my imagination or whatever the smeg this is; I want you, out there in the real world. If you can't handle that, then tell me now and I'll burn that page so this never happened." He pointed a shaking finger at the typewriter, which had remained silent since Rimmer's touch.
Rimmer's watery gaze met his. "I thought it would be easier, typing out what I wanted to happen, but life isn't like that. I don't know where to go from here, Lister."
Lister stared at the man he'd known for almost half of his life and saw him immobilized by fear – of the unknown, of the possibilities; of upsetting the balance. He asked gently, "Why don't you start by telling me what it is you want to happen, and I'll tell you if it can."
He watched as Rimmer licked his lips again, feeling something tighten in his chest. "I want you, whether you're real or a dream or a ghost of who you used to be."
His heart began thudding in anticipation of Rimmer's answer to his prompt: "How about something a bit more specific? Something simple. You can ask me anything, Rimmer."
Like a shy child asking for another biscuit, Rimmer pled with a desperate look in his eyes, "Kiss me?"
He began to walk toward Rimmer, keeping their gazes locked. The desperation was chased away by fear and anticipation, but through it all, Lister could feel love struggling to be seen. He brought his hand up slowly, yet Rimmer still twitched as his fingertips touched the hologram's cheek. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Rimmer flinch from a touch, but it was another thing they never talked about. Maybe, with time and love, Rimmer would be able to tell him. For now, his thumb brushed Rimmer's cheekbone before angling his head down for a chaste kiss.
He left his hand cupping Rimmer's cheek as he pulled back. "How was that?"
He stood still as Rimmer's hand came up to touch his jawline. His breathing deepened as Rimmer's hand slid around the back of his neck to pull him closer. It was a hesitant touch, and he could feel the trembling of Rimmer's lips against his. He nudged closer, making the contact more firm. A weight encircled his waist; Rimmer's arm snaking around to draw him in tight. He reciprocated in kind, sliding a hand up Rimmer's back as his other played with the hair at the nape of Rimmer's neck.
When Rimmer's lips parted and his tongue flicked out to lick the seam of his lips, Lister went from a warm, content feeling to electric shock as the full force of Rimmer's emotions slammed into him. Gone was the lazy exploration; replaced by years of pent-up desire being unleashed.
Before Rimmer's wandering hands got any further inside his clothes, Lister pulled away to gather his breath and his thoughts. "Give us a minute, Rimmer."
He saw annoyance and hurt flicker in Rimmer's expression before the hologram turned away. "I knew it was too good to be true."
Heart hammering in his chest, lips slick and skin tingling, Lister could only shake his head. "I need a breather, is all. And I have a question."
"What?" Rimmer asked, his tone dejected.
Sounding braver than he felt, Lister asked, "Do you want to risk doing this here, or risk it there?"
Rimmer spun around, his expression unreadable. It wasn't the first time Lister had trouble figuring out Rimmer's emotions, but never had the stakes been so high. They were so close to crossing a threshold that had existed for almost twenty years. What happened when it was crossed? Did everything magically change or did it all remain mostly the same?
Rimmer's voice cracked as he asked with more than a hint of disbelief, "You still want me?"
He tried to force his mouth into a smile, but he was afraid his nerves made it look warped. "Of course I do, you daft smeghead. I wouldn't have done kissed you if I didn't. I just need to know if you're prepared for…whatever happens next."
Some of Rimmer's walls fell, and Lister was buffeted by his nervousness and worry. "What about Kochanski? What if she's really out there? Will I be an afterthought if you find her?"
He drew Rimmer to him with a hand at his waist and struggled to meet his gaze. "I have a confession. I've used her as a buffer to keep you at arm's length. I was afraid of changing what we had. I told myself she was who I wanted, because it was easier than facing wanting you."
His explanation drew a pained frown. "Am I so hideously unlovable that you'd rather cling to a fantasy woman than be with a real man?"
He kissed Rimmer's frown until it softened. "No, Rimmer, you're not unlovable. You make it hard, don't get me wrong, but underneath all the smeg is someone worth knowing and worth loving. It's just…you're not the only one who's scared. Going from the comfortable place we've lived in for twenty years – the insults, the lonely days, the friendship we've developed – to something more is a big step. How could we live together if we knew we wouldn't work as a couple? It was easier to not know; to go on pretending it wasn't there. But it is there, and I'm ready to try if you are."
Rimmer licked his lips nervously. "I don’t want to try, Lister. I want us to work. I just… don't know how."
At hearing the other man's confession, Lister's smile was full-blown and genuine. "Hey, I know. I feel the same way." He glanced toward the typewriter. "So, what do you say? Should we chuck it in the fireplace, or write up our own happy ending?"
Rimmer's gaze never left his face. "Even if we type 'happily ever after', it won't be as easy as that, will it?"
His smile faded. "No, it won't. We'll still have our differences and our fights. We'll have to learn to live together as a couple, rather than two people who share a room. But if we work at it together, we can get our happy ending."
He watched as Rimmer swallowed nervously. "How do we get back? I mean, you wrote that Cat and Kryten returned to the ship. Do we need to write ourselves returning to the real world?"
Lister gnawed on his lower lip as he thought. "I've got an idea. It'll be a hardship, but I think if we work together, we'll make it." Certain he had Rimmer's full attention, he whispered, "Rimmer and Lister kissed until the world faded away, only to return to the ship still wrapped in each other's arms."
Without prompting, Rimmer bent down to meet him in a kiss that made Lister's knees weak. Feeling everything fade away to nothing except the very real man in his arms, he kept his eyes closed until he heard twin gasps from Kryten and Cat. Even then, he held tightly to Rimmer, sensing the other man wanted to pull away in shame or embarrassment.
When he finally released Rimmer, he could feel the other man shaking in his arms.
"We're back," Rimmer said unnecessarily.
"And we're still wrapped in each other's arms," he noted with a quick pinch to Rimmer's posterior. "Are you okay? Breathe, Rimmer."
Rimmer took a few deep breaths, which seemed to relax him. "What happens now?"
He took Rimmer's hand in his. "Now, we transfer the water out of the tank with the squid ink, run it through the filters, and spend a good deal of time scrubbing the ink off of each other."
"Oh, sirs, is that really necessary?" Kryten huffed, clearly agitated. "Surely we can spare enough water for you to take separate showers."
"Missing the point, Kryten," Lister replied distractedly. "I want to shower with Rimmer. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other better."
At that, Rimmer's cheeks pinked. "It will?" he squeaked. "But – oh. Oh." As the light bulb went on in Rimmer's head, Lister smiled wickedly.
"Yeah, real better." He directed his next statements to Kryten and Cat. "Don't bother us for a few hours, lads. Maybe the rest of the night. We have a lot of ground to cover." He looked Rimmer up and down, enjoying the heavy-lidded gaze that shone back at him.
Rimmer surprised him by adding in a low voice, "And uncover."
He shivered as he was inspected head to toe, feeling warmth spread to all the cold places he thought could never feel again. His grip tightened on Rimmer's hand and he kissed him softly.
Together, they started the subroutine to filter the water, so by the time they reached their quarters, the shower was ready for them.
The End
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2013-07-01 05:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-07-01 11:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-07-02 12:06 pm (UTC)(I remember being bummed seeing BTE the first time, that there weren't two creators they had to deal with. I got into RD in the 90s when the guys were still together and still have a hard time not thinking of them as a pair.)
no subject
Date: 2013-07-03 02:05 am (UTC)I still don't see what the happy part of BTE was. If that was what the happy squid did to them, and the despair squid nearly had them committing suicide...what the smeg did Doug think was HAPPY? They were about to be killed? They weren't real? Kochanski would rather have been thought dead by Lister? Rimmer was going to be shut off and blown to bits? Only Kryten and Cat got of relatively unscathed.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-03 05:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-02 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-05 03:22 am (UTC)