[FIC] Dinosaur
This is all squiggle_bat's fault. (And mine. I did ask for a challenge, after all.)
Title: Dinosaur
Pairing: Chen/Pete the Dinosaur. Or, one of Pete's offspring. I'm not sure.
Rating: PG-13. Yell if it isn't high or low enough.
Word Count: 352 words. I couldn't fit this into a drabble, sorry.
---
“Wot’s there?” Chen raises his frying pan menacingly. He should be the only one in the kitchen.
Thump. He hears a hissing. Oh, gods of the drink, let that be a busted pipe, he thinks.
No such luck. Chen drops the frying pan in surprise. It’s a dinosaur. What’s a dinosaur doing on Red Dwarf?
“If this is a prank, Selby, I’m laughing. Give it up!”
The dinosaur tilts it’s head and steps forward. Chen can smell it’s breath by now, and since when did dinosaurs have breath like rotten eggs?
Right now, that smell is the only fact that stays with him. The dinosaur steps closer, and by now it’s less than a foot away from him. Chen tries to back up, but there’s a wall behind him. He accidentally kicks the frying plan away, and the dinosaur hops back, but it quickly comes back.
“Em..Er. Nice dino?” Chen holds out his hand and hopes it doesn’t get bitten off. The dinosaur sniffs it, then licks it. “Don’t eat me?”
The dinosaur looks at him again and then nuzzles his hand. That’s a good sign. It has to be. Chen holds as still as he can while the dinosaur gets closer.
Those teeth are a lot larger close up, he thinks. It leans up and licks his face. Chen is reminded of a large dog he used to know, back when he was a kid. It would always run up and lick his face whenever he came over, and he’d play fetch with it occasionally.
However, that dog never did that. It had stopped licking his face, and was now investigating his, um, trousers.
Chen froze. It’s just curious. It’s not doing what I think it’s doing. Ran through his mind over and over as the dinosaur shredded the top of his trousers. Gods, why did I decide not to wear underwear today? oh hell.
His last thoughts before his brain went into fear/pleasure-induced shut-down was ‘good lord that is a long tongue’ and ‘i’m not drunk enough for this.
---
Selby found him the next morning, huddled under the kitchen’s sink and muttering about tongues the size of lobsters.
---
Title: Dinosaur
Pairing: Chen/Pete the Dinosaur. Or, one of Pete's offspring. I'm not sure.
Rating: PG-13. Yell if it isn't high or low enough.
Word Count: 352 words. I couldn't fit this into a drabble, sorry.
---
“Wot’s there?” Chen raises his frying pan menacingly. He should be the only one in the kitchen.
Thump. He hears a hissing. Oh, gods of the drink, let that be a busted pipe, he thinks.
No such luck. Chen drops the frying pan in surprise. It’s a dinosaur. What’s a dinosaur doing on Red Dwarf?
“If this is a prank, Selby, I’m laughing. Give it up!”
The dinosaur tilts it’s head and steps forward. Chen can smell it’s breath by now, and since when did dinosaurs have breath like rotten eggs?
Right now, that smell is the only fact that stays with him. The dinosaur steps closer, and by now it’s less than a foot away from him. Chen tries to back up, but there’s a wall behind him. He accidentally kicks the frying plan away, and the dinosaur hops back, but it quickly comes back.
“Em..Er. Nice dino?” Chen holds out his hand and hopes it doesn’t get bitten off. The dinosaur sniffs it, then licks it. “Don’t eat me?”
The dinosaur looks at him again and then nuzzles his hand. That’s a good sign. It has to be. Chen holds as still as he can while the dinosaur gets closer.
Those teeth are a lot larger close up, he thinks. It leans up and licks his face. Chen is reminded of a large dog he used to know, back when he was a kid. It would always run up and lick his face whenever he came over, and he’d play fetch with it occasionally.
However, that dog never did that. It had stopped licking his face, and was now investigating his, um, trousers.
Chen froze. It’s just curious. It’s not doing what I think it’s doing. Ran through his mind over and over as the dinosaur shredded the top of his trousers. Gods, why did I decide not to wear underwear today? oh hell.
His last thoughts before his brain went into fear/pleasure-induced shut-down was ‘good lord that is a long tongue’ and ‘i’m not drunk enough for this.
---
Selby found him the next morning, huddled under the kitchen’s sink and muttering about tongues the size of lobsters.
---