#junglelucha

Jack Perry had always been dramatic. Some people said it with annoyance, others with affection. Luchasaurus, however, took it as a scientific fact—something as obvious as gravity, or the existence of snacks. Jack was dramatic, the sky was blue, and Luchasaurus liked shiny rocks. These were constants. And yet, even with all that reliability, they had broken up. Temporarily. Maybe. Sort of? Well, Jack told everyone they were “working things out,” but Luchasaurus had simply… moved back in and started eating Jack’s cereal again, so he was pretty sure everything was fine. Jack was the one doing all the emotional processing, pacing around their shared apartment like a wounded poet, while Luchasaurus was mostly concerned with his newly-discovered ability to open cabinets with his tail. But today—today was special. Today was the first day Jack admitted, out loud and with great drama, exactly how he felt.

“It’s just—sniffle—all I know is I love him, okay?” Jack declared, voice cracking like a Victorian widow in mourning. “He’s got my heart!” Luchasaurus, who was standing three feet away studying the brown couch cushion with the intensity of a NASA engineer, looked up. “RAWWRRR ARRR.” Jack burst into tears instantly. “See?! He knows just what to say! Every time!” he wailed, clutching his chest like his ribs were holding in a great cosmic secret. From the kitchen, Christian Cage merely sipped his coffee and stared like he was watching an especially slow car crash. Jack swiped at his eyes, sniffling. “Lucha just… he understands, okay?” Luchasaurus was absolutely not listening. He was busy trying to figure out whether the couch cushion had a removable tag on the back. He poked it. He sniffed it. He growled at it. “Not even paying attention,” Jack continued lovingly. “Rawr arg. Nwrrr.” Luchasaurus grunted in vague agreement. He wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to, but Jack sounded emotional and fond, so it was probably good. Jack whipped around to Christian. “Do you see what I mean! I can’t believe we ever—he sniffled like a princess—broke up! I love him! I don’t care what anyone thinks!” “Mmhm,” Christian said into his coffee. “You’re both idiots.” Just then, Luchasaurus stomped over proudly and held something out in his claws. Jack gasped like he was being proposed to. “Oh Snookems!” he squealed, taking the small, oddly shaped rock. “It’s so pretty! Do you want to paint it?” Luchasaurus beamed—at least, as much as a dinosaur mask allowed—and let out a low, content rumble. Jack sniffled again. “Isn’t he just the sweetest dinosaur ever?” Luchasaurus dropped the cushion he’d been mangling with his tail. A victory.

Later that afternoon—after Jack had cried exactly five more times, and Luchasaurus had eaten two bowls of cereal, one bagel, and one mysterious object that Christian very much hoped wasn’t edible—they found themselves in Jack’s workshop. Calling it a workshop was generous. It was a messy, chaotic corner of their garage, filled with resin molds, pinecones, woodworking tools, glitter (Jack denied ownership), paints, and exactly eleven half-finished “projects.” Jack held his head dramatically. “Baby cakes, do you want to go for a walk? This design is giving me a migraine.” Luchasaurus, who had already moved back into the apartment two weeks ago despite no official conversation, stomped over. Without warning, he scooped Jack up and plopped him onto his shoulders with an enthusiastic grunt. Jack flailed immediately. “I can walk!” “GRRR ARRGGG,” Luchasaurus declared with great authority. Jack smacked the top of the dinosaur mask. “Put me down! I am not a damsel in distress!” Luchasaurus ignored him entirely as he stomped toward the front door like a determined horse carrying a very loud goblin. He paused on the porch, reached down, and handed Jack a dandelion. Jack melted instantly. “Ohhh it’s so pretty,” he breathed. “I’ll put it in water when we get home. You’re so adorable.” Luchasaurus’ chest puffed out proudly. Christian, watching from the driveway with the expression of a man contemplating whether he should change his name and flee the country, muttered, “You two make me ill.” Jack just hugged Luchasaurus’ head. “We’re healing.” Christian muttered something about them needing professional help.

Their walk was filled with Jack leaning dramatically over Luchasaurus’ head (still refusing to ask to be put down, despite complaining every two minutes), telling him about every tree, flower, cloud, and squirrel they passed. Luchasaurus responded faithfully with a mix of growls, grunts, huffs, and an occasional high-pitched chirp when he saw something interesting. At one point, he found another rock. Jack gasped again. “Snookems, this one is even PRETTIER. It’s like the rock you brought me earlier, but ANGELIC.” Luchasaurus held it up to the sun solemnly like he was offering it to the gods. Jack sniffled. “We’re so back,” he whispered emotionally.

That evening, after their walk and after Luchasaurus accidentally broke a chair by trying to sit on it backwards, Jack ran back into the garage with a wild burst of purpose.

Today was their anniversary.

Or half-anniversary.

Or reconnecting anniversary.

It was something. Jack made up three new holidays a week, and Luchasaurus celebrated every single one with total commitment.

Jack had been working on the gift for weeks. Months, if he counted all the failed attempts (and he did, loudly). Today, it was finally ready.

He ran inside dramatically. “Lucha! Baby! Snookems! My sweet prehistoric love muffin! Come here!”

Luchasaurus stomped over, tracking leaves through the living room that Christian had JUST vacuumed. Christian gave up on caring.

Jack held out a small cloth-wrapped object.

Luchasaurus sniffed it. Then sniffed it again. Then tried to bite it.

“No! No chomping!” Jack said, pulling it back. “It’s for you! You have to WAIT.”

Luchasaurus huffed but complied.

Jack unwrapped it slowly, theatrically, eyes glossy with emotion.

“A knife!” he declared proudly. “I made it for you!”

Luchasaurus froze.

It was beautiful—shiny resin swirling in forest green and deep black, with pinecones suspended inside like ancient fossils. The handle was polished smooth, shaped perfectly for Luchasaurus’ clawed grip.

And carved delicately across the blade were the letters:

J & L

Jack swallowed thickly. “It stands for Jack and Luchasaurus… obviously. I put so much time into it, and resin got stuck in my hair, and my fingers, and I accidentally glued my elbow to the table once, but—baby—it’s yours.”

Luchasaurus held the knife with a ton of respect.

Then he turned it in his hands slowly, admiring it from every angle, the green swirls catching the light.

He let out the softest sound Jack had ever heard.

A gentle, rumbling chirr.

Jack’s lip quivered. “You LIKE it?”

Luchasaurus nodded once, slowly, deeply.

Jack burst into tears.

“HE LOVES IT,” he wailed, dropping dramatically into Luchasaurus’ arms. “He LOVES MY GIFT. HE LOVES ME. HE LOVES US.”

Luchasaurus, not knowing how to comfort a crying human other than brute force affection, lifted Jack entirely off the ground and held him like a weighted emotional backpack.

Then he pat-patted Jack’s back with one giant claw.

“Rawrrr,” he murmured, voice soft.

Jack cried harder. “He’s SUCH a sweetheart. He’s the SWEETEST DINOSAUR EVER.”

Christian walked by, muttering, “If you two get any sappier, I’m leaving the company.”

But Luchasaurus didn’t hear him. He was too busy holding Jack with one arm, cradling his gift in the other, and staring at his boyfriend like he was the world’s most precious creature.

Jack sniffled loudly. “We are SO back together. I don’t even care if we never announced it online. You live here. You cuddle me at night. You bring me rocks. You’re my dinosaur.”

Luchasaurus nodded, proud, and gently bonked his forehead against Jack’s.

Jack gasped softly. “See? He KNOWS.”

He nuzzled Luchasaurus’ mask.

“I love you,” Jack whispered. “And I don’t care if people think it’s weird or dramatic or ridiculous. You’re my partner. My dino. My Lucha.”

Luchasaurus wrapped his tail around Jack’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Grrr… arrr. Hrnnn,” he rumbled—soft, affectionate, certain.

Jack’s eyes filled again. “Exactly,” he breathed. “That’s EXACTLY how I feel.”

Then Luchasaurus, in the height of romance, lifted up his new knife, pointed toward the ceiling, and let out a triumphant roar.

Jack wiped his tears and laughed, bright and unrestrained.

“I’m so in love with the biggest idiot dinosaur in the world,” he declared proudly.

Luchasaurus puffed out his chest, absolutely agreeing.

And just like that—no official posts, no press releases, nothing social-media-official—they were back together in full force.

A dramatic human.

A rock-collecting dinosaur.

And a very shiny knife that said J & L.

It didn’t get more perfect than that.

Jack Perry woke up the next morning unable to feel his left leg.

This wasn’t unusual. Dating a dinosaur came with consequences — emotional, romantic, physical, and occasionally circulatory.

Luchasaurus was wrapped entirely around him like a prehistoric weighted blanket, tail draped across Jack’s hips, one massive arm pinning Jack’s chest, and his mask buried into Jack’s hair with a low rumbling snore that sounded like a lawn mower caught on a rock.

Jack blinked groggily.

He smiled.

Then he panicked.

“OH MY GOD—BABY—I CAN’T—MY LEG—”

Luchasaurus snored louder in response, hugging Jack tighter.

Jack squeaked.

“Sweetheart, my love, my scaly prince, you’re killing me softly—BABE—”

He tried to wiggle free, but the dinosaur instinctively tightened his grip, tail curling possessively.

Jack groaned dramatically. “This is how I go. Death by affection. Put that on my tombstone.”

Luchasaurus finally woke, opening one eye lazily.

“Grrrrr?”

“Yes, hello, good morning, my leg is dead.”

Luchasaurus slowly lifted his arm, releasing Jack like a dropped kitten.

Jack sighed in relief and immediately scooted back into Luchasaurus’ chest anyway.

The dinosaur rumbled happily.

Jack pressed a sleepy kiss to Luchasaurus’s jawline.

“Thank you for loving me,” he whispered.

Luchasaurus nuzzled him.

And even half-asleep, Jack felt it in his bones:

They were so back.

Christian walked into the kitchen to find the two of them sitting at the table — Jack in dinosaur pajama pants, Luchasaurus using three bowls at once like a champion, cereal flying everywhere.

Christian squinted.

“You two are… together again.”

Jack froze mid-bite. “Huh? Us? Dating? Back together? Domestic? In love? Living together again? Celebrating an anniversary last night? Pffft—who said that?”

Christian stared.

Luchasaurus held up the knife Jack had made him like a trophy.

“RAWWRRRR!”

Jack facepalmed. “Dude.”

Christian sighed heavily. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

Jack winced. “Well… no. But it just feels kind of… private? Personal? Sacred? Like announcing it would… I don’t know… jinx it?”

Luchasaurus dropped his spoon and made an offended growl.

Jack gasped. “You think I should announce it?!”

Luchasaurus nodded firmly.

Christian took a long, deep sip of coffee. “You two argue about literally nothing.”

Jack threw his head into his hands. “It’s not nothing, Christian. It’s EVERYTHING. What if people judge us? What if they say we got back together too fast? What if—what if—”

Luchasaurus placed a giant claw on Jack’s shoulder.

“Arrr. Hrrr.”

Jack melted instantly. “BABY… You’re right. You’re ALWAYS right.”

Christian glared at the ceiling. “He didn’t even say anything.”

“He said everything,” Jack whispered emotionally.

Christian tapped his temple. “I need stronger coffee.”

Later that afternoon, Jack spread out on the couch with his phone while Luchasaurus sat beside him, polishing his anniversary knife like a medieval knight. “Okay,” Jack said, scrolling dramatically. “If we do this, it has to be perfect. Aesthetic. Enchanting. Something that says soft dinosaur love.” Luchasaurus blinked at him. “Hrr?” Jack put a hand to his forehead. “Should I post a picture of us? Or just write something emotional? Should YOU post something? Or maybe we do a joint post? A reel? A carousel? Oh god—AM I SUPPOSED TO MAKE A TIKTOK?” Luchasaurus grunted thoughtfully and then pointed at himself. Jack gasped. “You want to appear in the post?! Like—physically?! Sweetheart, I didn’t know you were ready to go public like THAT!” Christian walked by and muttered, “He’s literally on television every week.” Jack waved him off. “Not the same.” Luchasaurus nudged Jack’s shoulder affectionately. Jack sighed dreamily. “Okay. Let’s… let’s pick some photos.” He opened their hidden album — a whole folder titled “My Favorite Boy 🦖💚.” Christian, passing behind the couch, caught a glimpse. “Oh god.” Jack blushed. “Don’t judge our love.” Christian pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m judging the amount of glitter in those photos.” “That was a craft day,” Jack said. “He looked majestic.” Luchasaurus puffed out his chest in pride.

Jack insisted they needed fresh photos — “pure, honest, recently-back-together energy.” Luchasaurus was immediately on board, grabbing Jack’s camera and posing like a model. Jack tried not to melt. “Okay, baby, give me… dinosaur who’s in love. Now dinosaur who’s confused. Now dinosaur who’s proud of his knife. YES. YES.” Luchasaurus struck poses with increasing enthusiasm. Jack squealed. “You’re so cute I can’t breathe!” Christian watched with the expression of someone witnessing a slow descent into madness. Jack flopped dramatically onto a beanbag. “Okay now us photos. Come hold me.” Luchasaurus grabbed Jack, hoisting him like a sack of potatoes. Jack shrieked. “NOT LIKE THAT—OH MY GOD—PUT ME DOWN GENTLY I’M DELICATE—” Luchasaurus set him down gently. On his lap. Like Jack weighed nothing. Jack melted again. “I take it back, that was perfect.” They took:

– A forehead touch picture

– A rawr-and-kiss pose

– Jack holding Luchasaurus’ face

– Luchasaurus showing off the J&L knife

– One VERY sweet picture where Luchasaurus was cuddling Jack from behind Jack stared at that one for a long moment. “Yeah,” he whispered. “That’s it.”

Jack opened Instagram. His thumbs hovered dramatically. “What do I even say, baby?” he whispered. “How do I sum up all of THIS?” Luchasaurus rumbled softly and pressed his forehead against Jack’s temple. Jack’s eyes softened. “Okay,” he murmured. “I know what to write.” He typed on his phone, reading aloud. Jack wiped a tear. “What do you think?” Luchasaurus placed a claw over his heart and nodded. Jack threw himself into Luchasaurus’ chest. “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.” Christian gagged audibly from where he stood by the kitchen sink.

Jack insisted Luchasaurus needed his own announcement too. Luchasaurus did not know how to write. But he very much enjoyed pressing buttons. So with Jack guiding his claws, they posted on his account:

Caption:

“RAWRRRR 💚🦖 (translation: we’re good again.) J&L”

Photos:

– Luchasaurus roaring proudly

– The new J&L knife

– Jack hugging him

– The dandelion from earlier Jack instantly burst into tears. “It’s PERFECT,” he sobbed. “It’s SO YOU.” Luchasaurus headbutted him with affection. Christian muttered, “I need a vacation.” Within minutes, both posts blew up. #JurassicExpressBack trended. Fan accounts posted edits of them to romantic music.

People commented:

– “WE BEEN KNEW”

– “THEY LIVE TOGETHER AGAIN I CALLED IT”

– “This is the softest announcement in wrestling history”

– “Lucha posting ‘rawr’ is so real”

Jack shrieked every time he refreshed. “BABE, WE’RE TRENDING. WE’RE TRENDING IN THREE COUNTRIES.” Luchasaurus puffed out his chest proudly. Christian rolled his eyes. “Just wait. Tony’s going to make merch out of this.” Jack gasped. “WE COULD HAVE MATCHING SHIRTS—” Christian immediately left the room.

Since they were officially “out” again, Jack insisted they go on a celebratory date.

Luchasaurus wanted ice cream.

Jack wanted something romantic.

So naturally they ended up getting ice cream at the park while Jack talked about romance and Luchasaurus hunted for shiny rocks.

Jack held Luchasaurus’ claw affectionately.

“I feel lighter,” he whispered. “Like I can breathe again. Like I’m not hiding the best part of my life anymore.”

Luchasaurus gently bumped his forehead against Jack’s.

Jack giggled.

“You know… you should say something. Something romantic.”

Luchasaurus stared at him… then reached behind his back…

…and handed Jack another rock.

Jack’s eyes filled instantly.

“You DO love me,” he whispered dramatically.

Luchasaurus rumbled warmly.

AEW media caught wind of their reunion almost immediately. And Tony Khan, upon seeing the trending hashtags, personally dragged them into a press conference. Jack held Luchasaurus’ hand. Luchasaurus held Jack’s knife. Tony held migraine medicine. “So,” a reporter asked, “you two are officially a couple again?” Jack’s eyes sparkled. “Yes.” Luchasaurus let out a proud roar into the microphone. Tony winced. “Please—my eardrums—” He'd had to deal with the rumbles all day.  Another reporter asked, “Who made the knife?” Jack replied, “I did!” Luchasaurus held it up to the camera like Simba being presented to the world. Everyone applauded. Christian muttered, “What am I doing with my life?”

When they got home from the chaotic day, thankful work was only minutes from home, Jack curled up on the couch and pulled Luchasaurus down beside him. “You know what I’ve realized?” Jack whispered. Luchasaurus tilted his head. Jack played with the edge of his mask gently. “That I never stopped loving you. Not for a second. I thought… losing us meant losing part of myself. But getting you back…” His voice trembled. “It makes everything brighter.” Luchasaurus wrapped his arms around Jack, pulling him close into his chest. Jack buried his face into the dinosaur’s neck. “You’re my favorite person,” Jack whispered. “Even when you don’t understand me. Even when you eat my cereal. Even when you track dirt in the house. Even when your tail knocks over EVERYTHING.” Luchasaurus grunted an apology. Jack laughed softly and cupped his face. “You don’t have to talk, baby. I hear you.” Luchasaurus made a soft, warm rumble. Jack melted. “Yeah. That.” They curled together, legs tangled, Jack’s head on Luchasaurus’ chest while the dinosaur’s tail wrapped securely around him like a blanket. Jack kissed his jaw gently. “Thank you for choosing me again.” Luchasaurus squeezed him tighter. Jack shut his eyes, breathing him in. “For real this time,” Jack whispered. “For good.” Luchasaurus made a low, steady rumble. Jack smiled. “We’re official,” he murmured. “Everywhere. Always.” And Luchasaurus held him closer — like he’d never let him go again.