Chapter Text
It was a generally normal afternoon for the boys on the ship, they hadn’t encountered any space-crazy monsters or phenomena as of late and had begun to settle, of course there was the usual banter – which was normally against Rimmer – and general shenanigans across the ship.
This afternoon, like many prior, the crew had decided they would play some games which eventually devolved into drinking games no matter how many times they said it wouldn’t.
“Awh come on Rimmer it’ll be fun man!” Lister pleaded to deaf ears as Rimmer was once again studying for his officer’s exam, one which he knew he would fail anyway but he was insistent on trying. Lister lent on the table Rimmer was ‘studying’ at.
“Holly can give you the sensation of the drinks, so you don’t have to be sober the whole time”
at last Rimmer had turned his head and acknowledged Lister
“Unlike you, Listy, I prefer to spend my nights further pressing my intellect rather than with a group of three barely-human drunks getting wasted playing Uno”
As Rimmer spoke, he gestured for emphasis—only for Lister to seize the opportunity, grabbing his hand and dragging him toward the common room, where the rest of the crew waited.
Rimmer’s mind raced with slight confusion – why did Lister grab my hand? – however, he went along with it anyway, muttering under his breath about smeg-head, time wasters and the death of his productive evening, all of which Lister chose to ignore. They made their way into the common room where Kryten and Cat had been playing a few games while waiting for Rimmer and Lister.
Cat exclaimed as they entered
“Yaow! Look who’s finally arrived, goal-post head and door-mouse cheeks!” the two had rolled their eyes when hearing the nonsense insults that Cat spouted, ones that they were far more than used to at this point.
“Ah, hello sirs, it’s good you managed to join us tonight” Kryten stated in contrast.
The pair sat at the table as Kryten dealt them in.
The group played for a while, eventually Rimmer had admitted that he was in fact having fun despite this confession only coming out when he’d had his fourth drink of the night. As the night went on the boys drank more, Rimmer getting the most drunk now learning that he was maybe the worst Uno player ever, or at least on the ship.
Just before they were completely gone, drink wise, Cat and Kryten decided to turn in for the night, which was now the very early morning.
Rimmer, who was significantly more drunk than Lister, decided to salvage what little dignity he had left and stopped playing. That left the two of them talking—about anything and everything, from old stories to random confessions. Eventually, the conversation lulled into a comfortable, intoxicated silence.
Then Rimmer spoke.
"You know, Lister—" He hesitated, his foggy mind still sharp enough to weigh his words, though not sharp enough to stop himself.
"—I don’t actually hate you."
Lister stared at him, unblinking. What?
This was Rimmer—petty, insufferable, insult-machine Rimmer—admitting he didn’t actually hate him? That was like finding out Kryten secretly loved making a mess.
"What?" he repeated, this time aloud.
Rimmer didn’t look at him, eyes fixed somewhere past Lister’s shoulder. He leaned against the back of his chair, fingers tapping against the armrest. He took a slow breath, then finally turned to meet Lister’s gaze.
"I… I do actually consider you a—" He swallowed. "—a friend."
That pause before friend felt loaded. Heavy. Like it carried more meaning than wanted to admit.
Lister blinked again. His brain stalled, struggling to process this new reality where Rimmer was sentimental. He did the only thing he could think of.
He laughed.
"Rimmer, you’re very, very drunk."
The laugh was that of a defence, one that Rimmer saw right through.
“You’re just saying things” Lister smiled once more, trying to keep the conversation light.
“No, no I’m not –“ this time Rimmer turned his head to meet Lister’s eyes “—I really do think of you as, as a friend”
Rimmer knew he was lying. Lister wasn’t just a friend to him, the way the ship’s numerous fluorescent lights lit up Lister’s face in a glow, highlighting his smile, his eyes, his laugh lines – despite knowing it was more than a typical friendship he didn’t know how to describe it – best friends? – that felt too dulled down.
It was something else, something that felt as if in every universe they could find each other, and to an extent that had proved itself to be true. Rimmer downed two more shots, his face becoming flush.
“Rimmer—” Lister started, but Rimmer butted in.
“Lister–“ he paused, feeling as if he still wasn’t drunk enough for this “—Lister, I could say you’re my best friend, despite how our relationship is a bickering mess and all we do is relentlessly make fun of each other you’re.. you’re my-“
Rimmer paused, he wasn’t his best friend. Rimmer wanted to spend time with Lister, away from the guys, bunk together but not because it was for Listers sanity, because they wanted to. He wanted to watch stupid soap operas and eat pot noodles with him. He wanted a life with Lister.
Rimmer paused his thought process – A life? A smegging life? And more importantly who in the world would ever want to eat pot noodle – what was he thinking, they were friends, that’s the most they could be. What he was describing was — no, he wasn’t even going to think the word into existence.
Lister tilted his head
“Arny?” he said with his voice as soft as a breeze
“are- are you alright?” noticing the decent amount of empty shot glasses on Rimmer’s side of the table paired with his messy hair and deep drunken red face.
This didn’t bode well for Rimmer’s possible new discovery about himself.
“Don’t — don’t talk to me like that. I’m fine. I’m going to bed” he rushed out his words as he stumbled to a stand and walked out the room.
Lister wanted to say something, anything really but he wasn’t sure what, so he just sat there in silence watching Rimmer – very ungracefully – make his way out the room.
“what the smeg just happened” he said to himself forgetting that the ship’s computer could hear him
“dude, I think Rimmer’s got a cru-ush” Holly said in a sing-song voice, this instantly got Lister to turn to the screen in the room
“a crush? Yeah right!, Rimmer is straighter than a pencil. I don’t think he’d ever even consider it, I mean he was baffled when I told him I was bi” Lister chuckled remembering the scenario.
In truth, Lister had thought about it before, thought about what it would be like to kiss Rimmer, but he’d never paid it much mind. He was kind of like that with everyone, passing intrusive thoughts, however, looking back, Rimmer was a pretty popular intrusive thought.
Back in bunk Rimmer was lying face down in his bunk
“arghhhh” he bit his fist as he keeled over
he knew he was going to have a raging headache the next day, worse than that probably having to confront what he had just told Lister. He groaned again, why couldn’t he have just kept his mouth shut, why did he insist on telling Lister his thoughts.
What even were his thoughts? – ‘oh, by the way, just wanted to say old chap I consider you a good friend? – no, he wanted to say more than just ‘you’re my smegging best friend pal’. Rimmer stood up and walked to the mirror, splashing his face with water to try and rationalise himself.
Beside the mirror were some photos him and Lister had stuck upon the wall, his eyes drifted to them, most being reluctant selfies Lister had taken just to enrage Rimmer. He found himself smiling at them, there’s was something about the fact that Rimmer didn’t smile in one but Lister still stuck them up.
“No, stop it.” Rimmer muttered to himself, splashing his face again. What was he doing? Why was he all of a sudden so infatuated with this slob of a man... infatuated? No. no, no, no that couldn’t be it, he was just drunk and thinking strange things. He couldn’t love- like Lister. Lister was a boy, and so was Rimmer, and apart from all that, he hated him. Rimmer paced around the room.
“I hate him. I hate his stupid music, his slobbiness, his revolting concoctions he calls ‘food’ and that stupid laugh – well, his laugh is alright… no!” Rimmer cradled his head in his hands again, keeling over and groaning.
“I hate that I don’t hate him” as to not torment himself he decided he’s try and get some sleep.
Hours later Lister decided he, too, should make his way to bed, walking into the bunkroom he shared with Rimmer. he closed the door as quietly as possible as to not disturb Rimmer, he noticed that one of the photos of the two had been taken off the wall, he picked it up and smiled when looking at it - it was when he beat Rimmer in Zero-G golf 5-28 – he stuck it back in the wall before climbing into his own bunk.