Chapter Text
On Thursday, at 20:11 hours on the dot, a letter was crammed under the door to Rimmer and Lister's shared bunkroom. Rimmer, who felt strongly that this disruption to his sulk should be met with force, made to tear it to pieces. He hesitated when he noticed the calligraphy on the front of the note.
In smudged, looping ink, it read:
"To Captain A. Rimmer"
Rimmer's interest was piqued. He unfolded the note.
Dear Rimmer,
I owe you an apology. Of all the insults we have traded, I should never have accused you of heartlessness. If our years in intimate proximity have taught me anything, it's this: you care. You care about telephone poles, and schedules, and Hammond Organ music. You care about how people see you. You care so much that you drive yourself mad wondering if you're good enough.
I know I am no gentleman, or officer, or smegging landed gentry. But I see you, Rimmer. I see that you care. I wish I could tell you to forget about it all, stop worrying. But I don't think I can. You could do with some relaxation, sure. But I already fell in love with you, neuroses and all, so.
I'll be in the observation dome, bashing my brains against the railing, if you need me.
Do NOT show this letter to anyone!
Love,
Lister
+++
Lister crushed his first can of lager against his forehead, a crunch echoing in the silence of the observation dome. It could almost be peaceful- the beers, the view, the quiet- if it weren't for the pit in Lister's stomach.
The way he saw it, he was risking his heart and friendship and living situation on the evidence of one good evening and the odds that Arnold Judas Rimmer might actually, seriously, no joke, love him back.
Lister cracked open another one.
Just then, Rimmer poked his head out of the hatch to the observation dome. He had a crazed look, and the overall effect was not unlike a frantic gopher.
"I got your letter!"
Lister bolted upright. "And?" he prompted as Rimmer shimmied onto the deck alongside him, panting heavily. "Did you run all the way here or something?"
Rimmer nodded. "I burnt it. The letter," he said breathlessly.
Lister grimaced and hung his head. "Not gonna let me down easy, are ya?"
"No! Not- I didn't mean- it's not like that," Rimmer said. He brought his hands up, as if to grab Lister, but hesitated.
"What the smeg is it like, then?" Lister said, looking back up at Rimmer. The starlight made Rimmer's eyes sparkle. Lister couldn't help himself but to look, searching his gaze for a glimmer of hope.
Rimmer opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He brought one hand up, as if to make a declaration, then faltered and brought it down. Finally, he just screwed his eyes shut.
Lister nodded to himself. Of course, Rimmer wasn't in love, or couldn't express it to save his life even if he was, but then, it wouldn't work anyway, besides--
Then Rimmer's lips were on his.
Lister was practically bowled over by Rimmer, who had been working up the courage to pounce Lister for the entire sprint over. The kiss was passionate, and furious, and a little too wet.
Lister couldn't have been happier.
When they pulled apart, Lister grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. Rimmer, who was mostly in Lister's lap at this point, gave a small smile in return.
"Don't get shy on me now, Rimsy," Lister teased.
Rimmer blushed, but maneuvered himself so he was fully straddling Lister, arms wrapped around his back, head tightly secured in Lister's neck.
Rimmer whispered something into Lister's ear.
Somewhere, an invisible band struck up a waltz.