Story: untitled Lister/Rimmer pre-slashish Rated G
I didn't title this, but it is a birthday surprise for bayliss featuring Lister and Rimmer. It's set sometime after Back to Earth. No real spoilers for anything else.
It had been over fifteen years since he'd wanted to bake something. Okay, that wasn't necessarily true - he'd wanted to bake plenty of times, but without the supplies of Red Dwarf, they were lucky to find a fat space weevil to serve as the main entrée.
But tomorrow was special. Tomorrow, Rimmer returned from his trip to the engine deck. It was his annual pilgrimage, and Lister didn't have to be a genius to see that it coincided with Rimmer's birthday.
Lister couldn't imagine birthdays in the Rimmer household. From what Rimmer had told him of his childhood, and what he'd figured out by reading the smegger's diary and letters, painted a very bleak, lonely picture.
Even though Lister hadn't known who his parents were growing up, he still had Grams and his mates to celebrate whatever day he deemed his birthday (which happened to occur in every month ending in 'y'). He somehow doubted that Rimmer's parents would have celebrated the day he came into the world. He had a wretched gut feeling that they did celebrate the day he died, though.
So, here he was, making a right mess of the kitchen that Kryten would be all to happy to clear up, attempting his first cake in over 15 years. He was splurging and making a mascarpone-filled layer cake with marijuana gin-soaked strawberries and blueberries. Ordinarily he wouldn't ruin alcohol by sticking fruit in it, but this was a special occasion - Rimmer's fiftieth birthday.
Thank smeg for Legion and the hard light drive, or else Rimmer would have gone round the bend a long time ago. Much further than he'd gone already, of course, and that was assuming that himself or Cat hadn't shut him off long before then.
Lister frowned. No, he would have never shut Rimmer down. It was an idle threat if he'd ever yelled it in one of their heated arguments, but he couldn't recall ever having said the words. He knew how sensitive Rimmer was about his hologrammic status. He knew and understood the fear the man had about blinking out of existence. It was something he would have to face himself in about 130 years or so, if his future echo was correct.
The oven timer chimed and he flicked on the light, checking to see if the middle had risen properly. Deciding it had, he carefully removed the four cakes and set them on the cooling rack. The fruit was likely as drunk as Petersen on a Wednesday night, and the filling was awaiting the cooling cake.
He leaned on the kitchen island and stared thoughtfully at the floor. He should do something else special for Rimmer. After all, as far as they all knew, they were the last remaining humans in the universe. They needed to support each other. A half-formed idea curled his lips upward. Yes, that would work. But it wasn't quite enough.
=-=-=-=-=-=
"I'm not in the mood, Listy," Rimmer said quietly as Lister stepped into their quarters.
Rimmer's back was to the door, so he didn't see Lister's rather elaborate flourish to unveil the cake. With a shrug, Lister swooped around Rimmer's left shoulder and placed the cake in front of him. "Happy birthday, smeghead," Lister said good-naturedly.
When Rimmer didn't say anything for long seconds stretching out to almost half a minute, Lister began to worry that this wasn't the best idea. After all, Rimmer did go out of his way to avoid contact with anyone this time of year. Belatedly, Lister realized that Rimmer might not want to remember all the missed or awkward birthday parties of his youth. They certainly hadn't celebrated his birthday back with the crew.
"Eh, don't mind me. I just got sentimental with you going away for three weeks. Let me…" Lister reached out to remove the cake from in front of Rimmer, when Rimmer's hand clamped over his forearm and stopped him.
Rimmer's head was bowed, Lister thought to look at the cake, but Rimmer's voice cracked as he muttered, "No, it's fine."
"I didn't mean to upset you, man. I only wanted to cheer you up. You always go moody and squirrel away this time of year, and I never get to just say happy birthday. So, yeah." He stared at Rimmer's hand, still wrapped around his arm. "Can I have me arm back?" he asked quietly, thought a part of him didn't want to lose contact just yet.
The long fingers relaxed and slid down to the table. "Sorry," Rimmer mumbled. "It's - no one's ever remembered." Lister swore he heard, "Or cared," breathed at the end of that statement.
Lister's resolve firmed and he knew he'd done the right thing. "Come on, Rimmer. I've got an afternoon of your favorite films on standby in the cinema. I thought we'd make a day of it."
That brought Rimmer's head up, and Lister saw how shiny and red his eyes were. "You did that for me?"
Lister shrugged. "Weren't nothing to it. I even promise not to fall asleep and snore."
That got a flash of a smile, one Lister remembered from ages ago, and warmth spread throughout his chest. "I've warned Cat to stay away from the cake, and have Kryten on guard. It should be safe while we're gone."
Rimmer rose to his feet, but hesitated before turning toward the door. "Can't we take it with us?"
Lister shrugged. "Sure. I'll get a trolley and some plates and stuff." He pulled the needed items out of the storage vending machine next to their quarters and snagged a trolley with his foot, piling the stuff on top before pushing it back into their room. "Grab the cake and let's go."
Rimmer fell into step next to him as they made their way down to the cinema. It was true they had vastly different tastes in just about everything, but for one day, Lister could put up with some war documentaries and a reenactment of the life of Alexander the Great. He locked the trolley wheels so it wouldn't move, then settled next to Rimmer and gave the signal to the skutters to start the first film.
He'd swore to himself he wouldn't fall asleep, so he kept fidgeting to keep himself awake. He swiped his finger through a bit of frosting on his plate and sucked it off, he thought quietly, but he heard an aggrieved noise from Rimmer. "Sorry," he stage-whispered. A half hour later, he was on his third piece of cake and made sure to delicately lick the bit of icing off his thumb without a sound.
Rimmer made the same noise, and Lister turned to him. "Sor-" he began to apologize, but Rimmer didn't look upset. He looked hungry, which shouldn't be possible as he'd had two slices of cake as well. Some crumbs were on his shirt to prove it. Without thinking, Lister reached out and brushed them off, feeling the hard, erratic pounding of Rimmer's heart beneath his hand.
Oh.
Lister met Rimmer's eyes, their green depths widened by curiosity and worry, and smiled gently. He made a deliberate show of sliding his hand beneath Rimmer's, holding their palms together and interlacing their fingers. He settled their hands on his thigh and felt something inside him settle at the same time. "On second thought, not sorry," he declared softly, and found his own voice deeper and a bit rough. Fifteen smegging years he'd known this man, this annoying, smeggy, cowardly, brave, idiotic, smart-arse, and both hated and loved him. "Happy birthday, Rimmer."
Rimmer stared down at their joined hands, then looked back up at him. "For once, you're right, Listy. It is a happy birthday. The best one I've ever had."
Lister licked his lips, his eyes automatically dropping to Rimmer's red mouth. "Maybe we can top it next year."
"I look forward to it," Rimmer replied, his voice strangled and squeezed their hands together.
The End
It had been over fifteen years since he'd wanted to bake something. Okay, that wasn't necessarily true - he'd wanted to bake plenty of times, but without the supplies of Red Dwarf, they were lucky to find a fat space weevil to serve as the main entrée.
But tomorrow was special. Tomorrow, Rimmer returned from his trip to the engine deck. It was his annual pilgrimage, and Lister didn't have to be a genius to see that it coincided with Rimmer's birthday.
Lister couldn't imagine birthdays in the Rimmer household. From what Rimmer had told him of his childhood, and what he'd figured out by reading the smegger's diary and letters, painted a very bleak, lonely picture.
Even though Lister hadn't known who his parents were growing up, he still had Grams and his mates to celebrate whatever day he deemed his birthday (which happened to occur in every month ending in 'y'). He somehow doubted that Rimmer's parents would have celebrated the day he came into the world. He had a wretched gut feeling that they did celebrate the day he died, though.
So, here he was, making a right mess of the kitchen that Kryten would be all to happy to clear up, attempting his first cake in over 15 years. He was splurging and making a mascarpone-filled layer cake with marijuana gin-soaked strawberries and blueberries. Ordinarily he wouldn't ruin alcohol by sticking fruit in it, but this was a special occasion - Rimmer's fiftieth birthday.
Thank smeg for Legion and the hard light drive, or else Rimmer would have gone round the bend a long time ago. Much further than he'd gone already, of course, and that was assuming that himself or Cat hadn't shut him off long before then.
Lister frowned. No, he would have never shut Rimmer down. It was an idle threat if he'd ever yelled it in one of their heated arguments, but he couldn't recall ever having said the words. He knew how sensitive Rimmer was about his hologrammic status. He knew and understood the fear the man had about blinking out of existence. It was something he would have to face himself in about 130 years or so, if his future echo was correct.
The oven timer chimed and he flicked on the light, checking to see if the middle had risen properly. Deciding it had, he carefully removed the four cakes and set them on the cooling rack. The fruit was likely as drunk as Petersen on a Wednesday night, and the filling was awaiting the cooling cake.
He leaned on the kitchen island and stared thoughtfully at the floor. He should do something else special for Rimmer. After all, as far as they all knew, they were the last remaining humans in the universe. They needed to support each other. A half-formed idea curled his lips upward. Yes, that would work. But it wasn't quite enough.
=-=-=-=-=-=
"I'm not in the mood, Listy," Rimmer said quietly as Lister stepped into their quarters.
Rimmer's back was to the door, so he didn't see Lister's rather elaborate flourish to unveil the cake. With a shrug, Lister swooped around Rimmer's left shoulder and placed the cake in front of him. "Happy birthday, smeghead," Lister said good-naturedly.
When Rimmer didn't say anything for long seconds stretching out to almost half a minute, Lister began to worry that this wasn't the best idea. After all, Rimmer did go out of his way to avoid contact with anyone this time of year. Belatedly, Lister realized that Rimmer might not want to remember all the missed or awkward birthday parties of his youth. They certainly hadn't celebrated his birthday back with the crew.
"Eh, don't mind me. I just got sentimental with you going away for three weeks. Let me…" Lister reached out to remove the cake from in front of Rimmer, when Rimmer's hand clamped over his forearm and stopped him.
Rimmer's head was bowed, Lister thought to look at the cake, but Rimmer's voice cracked as he muttered, "No, it's fine."
"I didn't mean to upset you, man. I only wanted to cheer you up. You always go moody and squirrel away this time of year, and I never get to just say happy birthday. So, yeah." He stared at Rimmer's hand, still wrapped around his arm. "Can I have me arm back?" he asked quietly, thought a part of him didn't want to lose contact just yet.
The long fingers relaxed and slid down to the table. "Sorry," Rimmer mumbled. "It's - no one's ever remembered." Lister swore he heard, "Or cared," breathed at the end of that statement.
Lister's resolve firmed and he knew he'd done the right thing. "Come on, Rimmer. I've got an afternoon of your favorite films on standby in the cinema. I thought we'd make a day of it."
That brought Rimmer's head up, and Lister saw how shiny and red his eyes were. "You did that for me?"
Lister shrugged. "Weren't nothing to it. I even promise not to fall asleep and snore."
That got a flash of a smile, one Lister remembered from ages ago, and warmth spread throughout his chest. "I've warned Cat to stay away from the cake, and have Kryten on guard. It should be safe while we're gone."
Rimmer rose to his feet, but hesitated before turning toward the door. "Can't we take it with us?"
Lister shrugged. "Sure. I'll get a trolley and some plates and stuff." He pulled the needed items out of the storage vending machine next to their quarters and snagged a trolley with his foot, piling the stuff on top before pushing it back into their room. "Grab the cake and let's go."
Rimmer fell into step next to him as they made their way down to the cinema. It was true they had vastly different tastes in just about everything, but for one day, Lister could put up with some war documentaries and a reenactment of the life of Alexander the Great. He locked the trolley wheels so it wouldn't move, then settled next to Rimmer and gave the signal to the skutters to start the first film.
He'd swore to himself he wouldn't fall asleep, so he kept fidgeting to keep himself awake. He swiped his finger through a bit of frosting on his plate and sucked it off, he thought quietly, but he heard an aggrieved noise from Rimmer. "Sorry," he stage-whispered. A half hour later, he was on his third piece of cake and made sure to delicately lick the bit of icing off his thumb without a sound.
Rimmer made the same noise, and Lister turned to him. "Sor-" he began to apologize, but Rimmer didn't look upset. He looked hungry, which shouldn't be possible as he'd had two slices of cake as well. Some crumbs were on his shirt to prove it. Without thinking, Lister reached out and brushed them off, feeling the hard, erratic pounding of Rimmer's heart beneath his hand.
Oh.
Lister met Rimmer's eyes, their green depths widened by curiosity and worry, and smiled gently. He made a deliberate show of sliding his hand beneath Rimmer's, holding their palms together and interlacing their fingers. He settled their hands on his thigh and felt something inside him settle at the same time. "On second thought, not sorry," he declared softly, and found his own voice deeper and a bit rough. Fifteen smegging years he'd known this man, this annoying, smeggy, cowardly, brave, idiotic, smart-arse, and both hated and loved him. "Happy birthday, Rimmer."
Rimmer stared down at their joined hands, then looked back up at him. "For once, you're right, Listy. It is a happy birthday. The best one I've ever had."
Lister licked his lips, his eyes automatically dropping to Rimmer's red mouth. "Maybe we can top it next year."
"I look forward to it," Rimmer replied, his voice strangled and squeezed their hands together.
The End