Fic: How T. rex Got His Groove Back (Original)
Title: How T. rex Got His Groove Back
Author: alyse
Fandom: Original fic
Pairing: Tyrannosaurus/Baryonyx.
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: ~1,300.
Status: Complete.
Warnings: I appear to have written dinosaur porn. Oh, the shame.
Author's Notes: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mmom. Unsurprisingly.
For![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
davechicken and alinak, who pretty much dared me to, and for moonlettuce, who didn't stop me. And for aithine, who read it through for me and didn't have me committed on the spot.
I have taken several liberties with time periods, geographic locations and my sanity.
Summary: It started with Baryonyx, the bastard.
-o-
It started with Baryonyx, the bastard. It was bad enough that he was hunting on Tyrannosaurus's turf again, the boldfaced git. It wasn't for nothing, he thought, that he was known as rex of these here parts, and it was about time the bastard realised it. No. Baryonyx had to go one better and stand there, in Tyrannosaurus rex's forest, bold as brass, doing things that Tyrannosaurus probably wouldn't even dream of asking Mrs Tyrannosaurus to do for him.
Although, that might have had more to do with the chance of her eating his face if he dared even hint in that direction than anything else. There was also a reason why Tyrannosaurs were lone beasts - so Tyrannosaurus rex could be king of his own castle as it were, without the worry of his wife kicking his arse on a regular basis.
Mind, she wouldn't have stood for this either, if she was here and not off raising their spoilt little brat of a youngling, and Tyrannosaurus took a deep breath and let it all out in a bellow that made the trees shake.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Baryonyx, the bastard, didn't even miss a stroke.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked lazily, his claws continuing to gently stroke along his unsheathed reproductive organ. "Making good use of my grasping claws."
Tyrannosaurus took another deep breath, and roared. It was the kind of roar that sent herds of hadrosaurs running for the hills, and he was pleased to note that it at least put Baryonyx off his stroke. Temporarily.
"Dude. Chill."
"Chill?" Tyrannosaurus roared. "No, I will not fuckin' chill! Get a fuckin' room, you deadbeat scavenging layabout."
Baryonyx snorted, releasing his grasp on his reproductive organ. He didn't put it away, though, and it remained hanging there, swaying gently in the Cretaceous breeze. It was thick and red and Tyrannosaurus had to pull his gaze away, his eyes having fixed there in horrified fascination. "Yeah," Baryonyx growled back, lower in pitch than Tyrannosaurus's bellow, "Look who's talking. Like you've never done a little scavenging when things are tight." He snorted, those large, pale eyes looking Tyrannosaurus over contemptuously. "Are you sure you're not jealous that I can reach, when all you have is those itty, bitty arms?"
The bastard had gone too far this time, and T rex bared his teeth, growling low and fiercely in the back of his throat as he edged forwards, his head bobbing from side to side as he wondered just exactly where on Baryonyx's impudent form he was going to rip a new fucking arsehole.
That was one area where Baryonyx was outmatched, and the fucker knew it.
"Whatever," he said, his reproductive organ finally sliding back into its sheath as he backed down and backed away like always, the spineless little shit. And he had the gall to call himself an apex predator. "Seriously, dude. Get laid or something, will you?"
Tyrannosaurus glared after him, staring at his retreating back. As Baryonyx disappeared from view, heading back towards the river, the only snappy comeback that came to mind was a rather nonsensical, "Yeah? And don't come back, you fucking fish-eater!"
"He's right about one thing," came a low voice from the undergrowth, and Tyrannosaurus spun on his heels, turning his bulk as fast as his muscles could stand. There, lurking in the shadows of the towering trees, was Ankylosaurus, his head tilted as he stared after Baryonyx, just as Tyrannosaurus had been.
Tyrannosaurus bared his fangs with another growl. "You want some of this, too?"
Ankylosaurus snorted and swung his tail around, not moving from the spot as Tyrannosaurus stalked back and forth but making damned sure that Tyrannosaurus got a good look at what he was packing. "Only if you're feeling like having a limb broken today," he said dryly.
"Don't make me eat you," Tyrannosaurus threatened. Ankylosaurus merely snorted again, turning his head to stare back in the direction that Baryonyx had fled.
"I'm pretty sure it's not me angling for that," he said, his tone still as dry as old bones, the ones that had already had the marrow sucked out of them.
"What?"
Ankylosaurus shook his head mock sadly. "Haven't you figured out why he was doing it here?"
"I'm pretty sure he was just pissing in my pool."
"No. I'm fairly certain he was actually pissing in the pool three bends down the river," said Ankylosaurus. Trust that early Cretaceous throwback not to understand what the hell Tyrannosaurus was talking about. "That crack about your arms not reaching? I'm also fairly certain there was an offer in there, somewhere."
Tyrannosaurus might not have known anything about offers, but he sure as hell knew when he was being dissed. "You keep away from the fucking hands, you hear?"
He didn't think it was possible for something that heavily armoured to pull the kind of dismissive, sardonic face that Ankylosaurus pulled on hearing that, but apparently he'd been wrong. "I'm not touching your hands," Ankylosaurus said. "In any way, shape or form. But I'm certainly not insulting you because of it." He shrugged, the plates on his back rolling in a way that might have made a lesser dinosaur than Tyrannosaurus think twice about taking him to task. "I mean, I'm a fine one to talk. I don't even have graspable claws, and even if I did..." He arched his back, showing just how impossible it was for him to bend it. "I do have other physical obstacles that stand in the way of a little self-gratification. We can't all be Apatosaurus, after all."
"What?"
Ankylosaurus gave him a look that was half-amused and half-exasperated. "Did you never wonder what he puts that neck to use for?"
"Eating trees," replied Tyrannosaurus promptly, and Ankylosaurus snorted again.
"Trees aren't the only things he eats. Have you never wondered why he's so placid and good natured?"
"I figured that was down to the trees. You know those tree hugging, hippy types."
"Oh, he's all for the age of love. Self-love, in this case, obviously." Ankylosaurus rolled his neck, letting the sharp edges of his armoured plate ease whatever itch he needed to scratch. "And... well, let's put it this way. Everything is in proportion."
Tyrannosaurus digested this slowly, along with the small Iguanodon he'd had for lunch.
"He's..."
"Yes." Ankylosaurus settled back on his haunches, staring almost dreamily at the river, where it sparkled through the trees.
"I don't suppose he'd..."
"No." Ankylosaurus snorted again. "And don't even think about asking me to roll over and give it a go. I'm not going to let you eat me. Especially not when there's a good chance you'd actually eat me."
"Dude. That's just..."
When words failed him, leaving his jaw snapping pointlessly, Ankylosaurus snorted again and turned his bulk around, trundling off back through the trees. "Your best bet," he threw over his shoulder as he went, "is to follow Baryonyx. At least he can reach. Plus, he has that long neck, too."
That was a completely gross image, especially when accompanied by Ankylosaurus attempting to wiggle his brows in a suggestive manner before he finally turned back and looked where he was going. Which was an improvement, because the last time he'd walked into something, he'd left scars on several trees and they still hadn't recovered yet.
"I'm totally not going to do that," Tyrannosaurus yelled after the ancient Saurian, but Ankylosaurus just flicked the club on the end of his tail dismissively and blundered off into the undergrowth.
Tyrannosaurus was left in the clearing on his own, staring down towards the river, to where Baryonyx had retreated. Ankylosaurus had to be wrong, of course, completely misinterpreting what he'd seen, the old fool, but on the other hand...
There was no reason for him not to follow Baryonyx and show him, once and for all, who was boss. And if he couldn't do that, well, his name wasn't Tyrannosaurus rex.
The End
Author: alyse
Fandom: Original fic
Pairing: Tyrannosaurus/Baryonyx.
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: ~1,300.
Status: Complete.
Warnings: I appear to have written dinosaur porn. Oh, the shame.
Author's Notes: Written for
mmom. Unsurprisingly.For
davechicken and alinak, who pretty much dared me to, and for moonlettuce, who didn't stop me. And for aithine, who read it through for me and didn't have me committed on the spot.I have taken several liberties with time periods, geographic locations and my sanity.
Summary: It started with Baryonyx, the bastard.
-o-
It started with Baryonyx, the bastard. It was bad enough that he was hunting on Tyrannosaurus's turf again, the boldfaced git. It wasn't for nothing, he thought, that he was known as rex of these here parts, and it was about time the bastard realised it. No. Baryonyx had to go one better and stand there, in Tyrannosaurus rex's forest, bold as brass, doing things that Tyrannosaurus probably wouldn't even dream of asking Mrs Tyrannosaurus to do for him.
Although, that might have had more to do with the chance of her eating his face if he dared even hint in that direction than anything else. There was also a reason why Tyrannosaurs were lone beasts - so Tyrannosaurus rex could be king of his own castle as it were, without the worry of his wife kicking his arse on a regular basis.
Mind, she wouldn't have stood for this either, if she was here and not off raising their spoilt little brat of a youngling, and Tyrannosaurus took a deep breath and let it all out in a bellow that made the trees shake.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Baryonyx, the bastard, didn't even miss a stroke.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked lazily, his claws continuing to gently stroke along his unsheathed reproductive organ. "Making good use of my grasping claws."
Tyrannosaurus took another deep breath, and roared. It was the kind of roar that sent herds of hadrosaurs running for the hills, and he was pleased to note that it at least put Baryonyx off his stroke. Temporarily.
"Dude. Chill."
"Chill?" Tyrannosaurus roared. "No, I will not fuckin' chill! Get a fuckin' room, you deadbeat scavenging layabout."
Baryonyx snorted, releasing his grasp on his reproductive organ. He didn't put it away, though, and it remained hanging there, swaying gently in the Cretaceous breeze. It was thick and red and Tyrannosaurus had to pull his gaze away, his eyes having fixed there in horrified fascination. "Yeah," Baryonyx growled back, lower in pitch than Tyrannosaurus's bellow, "Look who's talking. Like you've never done a little scavenging when things are tight." He snorted, those large, pale eyes looking Tyrannosaurus over contemptuously. "Are you sure you're not jealous that I can reach, when all you have is those itty, bitty arms?"
The bastard had gone too far this time, and T rex bared his teeth, growling low and fiercely in the back of his throat as he edged forwards, his head bobbing from side to side as he wondered just exactly where on Baryonyx's impudent form he was going to rip a new fucking arsehole.
That was one area where Baryonyx was outmatched, and the fucker knew it.
"Whatever," he said, his reproductive organ finally sliding back into its sheath as he backed down and backed away like always, the spineless little shit. And he had the gall to call himself an apex predator. "Seriously, dude. Get laid or something, will you?"
Tyrannosaurus glared after him, staring at his retreating back. As Baryonyx disappeared from view, heading back towards the river, the only snappy comeback that came to mind was a rather nonsensical, "Yeah? And don't come back, you fucking fish-eater!"
"He's right about one thing," came a low voice from the undergrowth, and Tyrannosaurus spun on his heels, turning his bulk as fast as his muscles could stand. There, lurking in the shadows of the towering trees, was Ankylosaurus, his head tilted as he stared after Baryonyx, just as Tyrannosaurus had been.
Tyrannosaurus bared his fangs with another growl. "You want some of this, too?"
Ankylosaurus snorted and swung his tail around, not moving from the spot as Tyrannosaurus stalked back and forth but making damned sure that Tyrannosaurus got a good look at what he was packing. "Only if you're feeling like having a limb broken today," he said dryly.
"Don't make me eat you," Tyrannosaurus threatened. Ankylosaurus merely snorted again, turning his head to stare back in the direction that Baryonyx had fled.
"I'm pretty sure it's not me angling for that," he said, his tone still as dry as old bones, the ones that had already had the marrow sucked out of them.
"What?"
Ankylosaurus shook his head mock sadly. "Haven't you figured out why he was doing it here?"
"I'm pretty sure he was just pissing in my pool."
"No. I'm fairly certain he was actually pissing in the pool three bends down the river," said Ankylosaurus. Trust that early Cretaceous throwback not to understand what the hell Tyrannosaurus was talking about. "That crack about your arms not reaching? I'm also fairly certain there was an offer in there, somewhere."
Tyrannosaurus might not have known anything about offers, but he sure as hell knew when he was being dissed. "You keep away from the fucking hands, you hear?"
He didn't think it was possible for something that heavily armoured to pull the kind of dismissive, sardonic face that Ankylosaurus pulled on hearing that, but apparently he'd been wrong. "I'm not touching your hands," Ankylosaurus said. "In any way, shape or form. But I'm certainly not insulting you because of it." He shrugged, the plates on his back rolling in a way that might have made a lesser dinosaur than Tyrannosaurus think twice about taking him to task. "I mean, I'm a fine one to talk. I don't even have graspable claws, and even if I did..." He arched his back, showing just how impossible it was for him to bend it. "I do have other physical obstacles that stand in the way of a little self-gratification. We can't all be Apatosaurus, after all."
"What?"
Ankylosaurus gave him a look that was half-amused and half-exasperated. "Did you never wonder what he puts that neck to use for?"
"Eating trees," replied Tyrannosaurus promptly, and Ankylosaurus snorted again.
"Trees aren't the only things he eats. Have you never wondered why he's so placid and good natured?"
"I figured that was down to the trees. You know those tree hugging, hippy types."
"Oh, he's all for the age of love. Self-love, in this case, obviously." Ankylosaurus rolled his neck, letting the sharp edges of his armoured plate ease whatever itch he needed to scratch. "And... well, let's put it this way. Everything is in proportion."
Tyrannosaurus digested this slowly, along with the small Iguanodon he'd had for lunch.
"He's..."
"Yes." Ankylosaurus settled back on his haunches, staring almost dreamily at the river, where it sparkled through the trees.
"I don't suppose he'd..."
"No." Ankylosaurus snorted again. "And don't even think about asking me to roll over and give it a go. I'm not going to let you eat me. Especially not when there's a good chance you'd actually eat me."
"Dude. That's just..."
When words failed him, leaving his jaw snapping pointlessly, Ankylosaurus snorted again and turned his bulk around, trundling off back through the trees. "Your best bet," he threw over his shoulder as he went, "is to follow Baryonyx. At least he can reach. Plus, he has that long neck, too."
That was a completely gross image, especially when accompanied by Ankylosaurus attempting to wiggle his brows in a suggestive manner before he finally turned back and looked where he was going. Which was an improvement, because the last time he'd walked into something, he'd left scars on several trees and they still hadn't recovered yet.
"I'm totally not going to do that," Tyrannosaurus yelled after the ancient Saurian, but Ankylosaurus just flicked the club on the end of his tail dismissively and blundered off into the undergrowth.
Tyrannosaurus was left in the clearing on his own, staring down towards the river, to where Baryonyx had retreated. Ankylosaurus had to be wrong, of course, completely misinterpreting what he'd seen, the old fool, but on the other hand...
There was no reason for him not to follow Baryonyx and show him, once and for all, who was boss. And if he couldn't do that, well, his name wasn't Tyrannosaurus rex.
The End