Title: Smeggin' Christmas
Author: Chris
Fandom: Red Dwarf
Pairing: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer, Lister/Kochanski/Ace Rimmer
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Yes
Feedback: No
Series: Part 1 of a series, but they don't have to be read in order.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Grant/Naylor Productions and the BBC, not me.
Notes:Originally written Dec. 25, 1999.
Summary: Fantasies come true when the Red Dwarf gang passes through a strange cloud.
Warnings: First-timer, and contains some het content. Be warned. Takes place around season 4 or 5.

***

*Sniffle* "Oh sir, that film gets to me everytime."

"Frosty comes back next year Kryten. How many smegging times do I have to say that? He'll be back next year."

Kryten took a handkerchief given to him by a nearby scutter and blew his nose. "I know Mr. Lister, but watching him melt away, and those sad children, oh boo hoo!"

Lister exhaled a loud breath. Alone baby-sitting Kryten again. He lost track of Cat when Cat got on all fours and started sniffing the floors for fish residue. Cat hated the film anyway, as he did most films with Santa Claus. Cat's hero was Cat Claws, the mancat who broke into people's homes, raided their refrigerators, stole the flashiest looking outfits, and left a furball as a present. And Rimmer...Rimmer wasn't invited. Lister cursed as he noticed Rimmer walking down the aisle.

"Not invited I see. Not good enough for a cheapie kiddie film."

"Rimmer, last year, I warned ya. You hooted through the entire movie, threw a pack of jujubes at the screen, and chanted 'Die Frosty, you stinking sod!' for the final 10 minutes. That's why we didn't ask you back."

Rimmer rolled his eyes, arms crossed in front of his red uniform. "Snow men have haunted my memories since my 10th year, when the local bully toppled one onto me as I attempted to write my name in the snow. Try looking at Frosty with a smile if you spent two hours pulling coal out of longjohns."

Lister noticed the sniffles had been replaced by small chuckles. "Good Rimmer, you've cleared up Kryten's crying jag."

"Oh good. Be my guest, cry at my childhood scars, you technodeficient, tiresome piece of tire goo."

Kryten stared him down. "Smeeee...smeeeg..."

"Give up freakazoid, that -999999999 megagit memory of yours won't let the word process. Go ahead, try. 'Smeg smegs smegshells by the smegshore.' Say it, SmegBot!"

*ding*

/Guys, hate to interrupt, but we're flying through an IGM-Icky Gaseous Muck. Prepare yourselves./

Lister nodded. "Thanks Hol. OK, everybody got their gear?" He received nods in return. "3....2....1...noseoff!" Three sets of nostrils were briefly clamped shut by the most old-fashioned device on the futuristic ship, three sets of wooden clothes pins.

/Odor clear. Let's watch 'Santa Claus vs. the Martians' next./

Lister heard groans under his feet.

"Oh....that's the worst fish I've ever smelled."

"Cat, that wasn't fish, it was a gas cloud."

Cat stood up on his hind legs, in Cat's case, the only legs he had.

/Learned a bit more about that cloud, it was a special cloud. The cloud picks a wish, a desire, from your head at random, and grants it. A few conditions, you've got to be alone, and the wish only lasts a night./

"Bye-bye homosapiens and robosapien, I'm hitting paws. Don't bother me for at least 24 hours." Cat ran from the theatre.

"Mr. Lister, what should we do?"

"What harm can it do?"

Rimmer snorted. "Brainless and Circuitless strike again. 'What harm can it do', you ask? Kill us, take over our minds, pollute the ship, take over Holly, leave really bad tofu behind, among other horrors."

"Sorry Rimmer, but I'm going for it. I'm sick of you trying to ruin every good thing that happens around here, or causing every bad thing. And I think you don't want us to do this because you're scared our granted wish will be for you to vanish and stay the smeg away for good."

If Lister expected a bitter reply, he got none. Rimmer slowly walked away, fading into the wall instead of going through the door. Lister shuddered. "I hate it when he gets in that intangible phase, he's so pissy."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Rimmer asked Holly to phase him into his blue pajamas. The day seemed incredibly long, and he surprised even himself by walking away from an argument with his sparring partner. Perhaps even I have a breaking point with that human waste disposal, Rimmer thought to himself.

He stepped into his bed, grateful for the spare sleeping quarters he used when unable to tolerate Lister (or Lister's snoring) any longer. Sleep almost began to overtake him when he heard footsteps. The shadow of long dreadlocks appeared on a nearby wall.

"Go away Lister."

Ignoring the order, Lister kneeled beside Rimmer's narrow bunk. "Can't man. I'm wracked with guilt."

"You? Guilt? Pardon me if I pinch myself for a few hundred years."

"I'm serious. What I said was out a line. Completely wrong. Let me make it up."

"Leave."

A tremor of shock passed through him when he felt Lister's hand grasp his, Rimmer's first human touch in centuries.

"This isn't possible."

"The smeg it is. I've wanted to touch you for so long Arnold, my will power finally broke through."

*Arnold*. He felt a small ping go off inside him somewhere. Desire? His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a mouth on his. He pulled away.

"Who put you up to this? That damn Cat? I'll give him a flea dip in battery acid."

Lister began unbuttoning Rimmer's pajama top, running his hands over the now-touchable man's flat stomach as he did so. He pinched a nipple, the heat produced erasing the last fragments of uncertainty from Rimmer's mind. Rimmer grabbed him by the hair, pulling him forward. Lister extended his tongue, licking Rimmer's lips. Their mouths met hungrily, tongues exploring the other's mouth. Clothes were quickly discarded, Rimmer's blue underwear being torn off last.

Lister pulled him out of the bunk, ripping off the sheets and pillows. He smiled devilishly. "More room on the floor." Their mouths met again. Each slowly pulled away to catch their breath. Huffing and puffing, Lister ran his hand down the pale back. "I love you so much."

Rimmer squirmed. "Please don't say that. No one ever means it."

Lister put his warm hands on Rimmer's cheeks. "I do. Always have loved ya, hated myself for it, never wanted to admit. But tonight, I had my fill of the lies. This is why we get under each other's skin. I know you love me Arnie, say it."

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

"Every time I tell a person I love them, they never say it back. Or they hate me in return. Why should this stop now? I'm a worthless, miserable, unloved failure."

Lister pulled him forward, any words of comfort replaced by two strong arms. Rimmer uncontrollably melted into the embrace, fears washing away. "I....I love you too, you git."

Lister smiled. "That's all I wanted to hear. Lover. I love you. There, said it back, didn't I?" He tenderly kissed his newfound lover, biting on his lower lip, venturing downward to nuzzle and nip at other areas. He stopped at the grand prize, covering the head of Rimmer's cock with his accommodating mouth. Lister quickly deep throated him as Rimmer clawed at the sheets. A hand ran over his chest, the other running down his thigh. He gasped when a finger connected to that hand began to push into his opening. The tight spinchter muscle slowly began to contract as the finger burrowed deeper, massaging. Another finger entered, then a third. He moaned a final time, his semen flowing into Lister's willing mouth.

Lister swallowed as he removed himself from the organ. Even in the darkened room, Rimmer noticed Lister's body was in far better condition than he'd given him credit for. Not as trim as his own, but Dave was far from out of shape. Whether this thought came from pure lust or a heretofore unseen point of view, Rimmer didn't know, but he certainly appreciated the view. He reached out to pinch an erect nipple, enjoying the surly gasp produced. "Dave, any plans to make me prove why my name is 'Rimmer' ?"

Lister laughed seductively, bending over for another kiss. "Not yet, not yet. I have other plans." Rimmer saw and felt the other plans as his legs were tossed onto those caramel shoulders. A thick organ rubbed against his hole. Rimmer flinched at the feeling, yet his own cock began returning to life as the rubbing intensified.

He saw that sexy face looking down at him. "Brace yourself Arnie." When the cock moved from rubbing to inserting, Rimmer arched, too enveloped to mutter any words more intelligent than "Oh sweet God."
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Dave normally slept in some semblance of clothing. A T-shirt and boxers. Tonight he bucked the trend, broke the pattern. Rimmer wasn't here to needle him, he could do what he wanted. Plus, in the good chance Kochanski could stop by as his granted wish, he preferred to be naked and ready for takeoff, so to speak.

At least this waste of space full length mirror finally had a purpose, Lister thought. Now that he had the chance, he was almost *obligated* to check himself out.

*Not bad. Not Adonis, but sure as smeg not Mr. Potato either.* Of what seemed to be it's own free will, a hand dove to his crotch, fingers twining in his pubic hair, kneading his large balls, then running over his length. Slowly, he upgraded to blatantly jacking off, shaft expanding to near-full length. *Almost there...*

"No way, that's mine."

He opened his eyes again, marveling at the figure behind him in the mirror. Kristine Kochanski, great unrequited love of his life, sex goddess of the Red Dwarf, stark naked. Grinning. At Lister. A whimper emerged from his lips.

"You've wanted me from the first day we met. What you didn't know is that I felt the same way."

"Really?" he croaked.

"Don't believe me? Feel for yourself." She walked toward him, grasping his hand, placing it on her mound. Wet, dripping. He pushed two fingers past the slit, thrusting them in and out, hearing the gasps of pleasure he waited so many years for.

Pushed to his limit of patience, he dropped to his knees, preferring taste to touch. The smell of her drove him wild. His tongue flicked forward, retreating as she groaned. He dove back in, mouth descending to suckle her clit. Tongue burrowing further, he found and encircled her cunt. Krissy tore at his hair as she came, fluids lapped up by the cause himself.

She sat on the floor beside him, briefly exhausted.

"Oh Krissy, I've wanted to do that for so long."

She smiled, lilting voice making him painfully hard. "You got your wish."

"Not all of it. Not yet."

He grasped her breasts, rubbing over her nipples. They kissed passionately, Krissy tasting herself as his tongue roughly assaulted her mouth. He laid flat on his back, pulling his dream woman on top to straddle. She did the rest of the work, taking his erection and inserting it inside herself. They both moaned. Lister had dreamt of contact with her, others, but mainly her, and here she was. Literally in the flesh.

She began thrusting herself back and forth, the friction delicious. Her hands explored his dark chest, pinching, rubbing. Looking at herself in the mirror set the pleasure bar a level higher. "Dave, can you see us?"

He craned his head, staring at the duplicates. "Oh shit, this is really becoming bad porn, isn't it?"

At that moment, the door opened. Through his lust-glazed eyes, Lister didn't recognize the figure at first. Spacesuit, short blonde hair, nice smile. A smile that could look so smug on a nastier person, like Rimmer. Arnold Rimmer.

This was Ace Rimmer. "Ace Rimmer?"

"That's me."

"Sorry chum, but I'm busy right now. Could ya come back later?"

Ace tossed off his silver boots. "Dave, this came from your subconscious, not mine. I'm only following your desires."

Dave attempted to shake his head. "No, I'm no poof! Get out!" Yet he stared transfixed as Ace began unzipping his flight suit. Ace couldn't resist a glance at himself in the mirror as the zipper lowered, until the suit fell around his shoulders. Kris reached over to pull the material down to his legs. Working together, they did. He kneeled beside them, kissing this relative stranger passionately. He moved to her breasts, kissing and suckling her nipples where Lister had previously pinched them.

The sight of his supposed good friend going Rimmer wild on his dream woman should have driven Lister to stand up and beat him senseless. Instead, he felt himself growing even more hard, filling Krissy even further. This was the strangest sexcapade of his life.

Ace crawled over to Lister, enjoying the two pairs of eyes ogling his body as he did so. He bent over, gently teasing Lister with his mouth. Near-kisses, pulling away at the last minute, nipping at his neck, until he finally planted his mouth on those full lips. As their mouths opened, Lister moaned into the other mouth, moving his arm behind Ace's head. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Krissy playing with herself, excited by two men in a steamy liplock.

Ace pulled away, replacing mouth with dick. He rubbed his organ over Lister's lips. "All these years, I've asked of others. 'Fry me a kipper', 'get me a kipper'. Starting now, I'm giving back." The man on the floor opened his mouth to take the large head, running his tongue over it. Amazing, Lister thought. Not too big, not too small. Even Ace's dick is perfect.

Ace reached to play with Lister's nipples, expanding in his mouth. Lister turned his head to accept more inches. As he felt the back of his throat meet warm flesh, he grunted, orgasm overtaking him. He filled Kochanski, she came a second time as he did.

*He's almost ready to burst, just a few more minutes*

Ace pulled out. Lister sat up, annoyed.

"What the fuck did you do that for? You want to be a cock-tease? Wait...where's Krissy?"

Ace smiled. "She fulfilled her role Davey Boy. Turn over."

"No. My mouth is one thing, but.."

Ace fixed him with that heartfelt, slightly superior gaze. "Turn over."

Lister sighed, rolling over. Ace moved behind him. Hands parted the cheeks. Lister jumped as a tongue licked the cheeks, followed by the tongue sliding into his crack. Beyond his crack now. "Oh...uhh....sweet mother of...OH..."

Ace pulled out, positioning himself for launching. "5...4....3....2...hope I enjoy this as much as you will Davey Boy...1..." He thrust forward, filling Lister, moreso every few minutes.

As Lister humped and felt two hands playing with his chest and rapidly reviving penis, he could only think the usual thought brought about by Ace Rimmer. *What a guy...*

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Different cabins, same sensations. Both men woke up alone, satiated and incredibly tired. With unfamiliar pain between their legs. And a strange sensation of completion neither had felt in ages. Each had a lingering desire to go to the other's cabin. After a half-hour of self-debating, Rimmer did. He couldn't hold back a slight blush at first sight of his on-again, off-again roomie.

Rimmer sat on the edge of the bunk, beside Lister. "Had a hell of a dream last night."

"Me too."

"No smegging way it could be true though."

"Nope, no smeggin' way."

Both men ran their hands along a bit of blanket at the same time, static electricity running between them when they accidentally touched.

"Ow! Git, you shocked me!"

"Rimmer, I didn't do it on purpose. Wait...I thought you couldn't feel anything."

Rimmer looked at his hand. "So did I. It must be the cloud's last gift to us...to me I mean. Solidity."

Lister grasped the hand, running it over his cheek. Rimmer tried to pull back. "Calm down Arnold, just testing."

His hand ran up Rimmer's thigh. "Feel that?"

"Mmm, yeah."

He squeezed Rimmer's crotch. "What about that?"

Rimmer moaned. He glared at the man sitting beside him. No longer caring about respectability or self-imposed class structure, Rimmer leapt onto him. "I felt that, you pathetic, fatty, vinderloo-inhaling smeg."

Lister adjusted as Rimmer leaned in closer to him. "Can't wait to see what else I can touch."

Rimmer kissed him passionately, stopping to lay his head on his chest. "Whatever you want, *Davey Boy*."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Holly chimed into Kryten's cabin, briefly watching him before she did so. Rimmer after Rimmer walked in, smirking. Kryten cried "Smeghead!", and the latest Rimmer would find himself with an exploding head. After Headless Rimmer #1,001, even Kryten had his fill.

/Done Kryten?/

Kryten nodded happily.

The Rimmers faded away.

/Wonder how Cat's doing?/

At that moment, Cat flew into the room, outraged. "Damn 'wish'. I wish we'd never passed that gas cloud! All my favorite designers met with me to talk clothes. I'm talkin' about Dolce and Clawbanna, Tommy Hilfigahairball, even Calvin Siamese and Tabby Karan. Know what I found out? They're all bitches! Kept clawing at me, and they ate all my fish! If those clothes didn't look so hot on me, I'd throw 'em into deep space!"

Kryten patted Cat on the back. "There there Cat. I wonder how Mr. Rimmer and Mr. Lister are."

Holly smiled, the new brown tint of her hair the aftereffect of the wish cloud.

/I'll just put it this way...it might be better to start breakfast without them./

End

***

Next story in series - The Day After.