Which is to say here he stood, looking uncomfortably away from David Lister in the AR machine several million years from earth. About a minute ago he had grabbed Mr. D. Lister by the lapels and given him a right big smooch.
It had been the impulsive kiss to end all impulsive kisses. He couldn't remember what had made him decide to kiss Lister, it had just seemed like a good idea at the time.
His eyes slowly and shyly slid to where the object of his rash affections. His mind screamed at him for how out of character that action had been and that what he was doing now probably wasn't helping. Finally his eyes caught on to what they were looking for. Lister was looking at him too.
He looked away quickly, afraid of the tongue lashing, the hate he was dead certain he was about to receive. So it was no suprise that he jumped when he felt a hand clasp his own. He cast an alarmed peek at Lister, who was smiling.
While his mind tried to figure that one out he looked around, Kryten was stand, hands clasped an ambivalent look of disapproval and delight on his plastic-y face. He looked at Lister and back.
Finally, and very quietly, he said, "Mr. Rimmer, I do believe at such a time it is customary for you and Mr. Lister to run off into the sunset."
"But there is no sun se-" His protest was cut short as a glorious example of sundown presented itself. Not one to break tradition they set off.