RATING: NC-17.

PAIRING: Alan/Billy

SUMMARY: Billy has recovered. But what next?

SPOILERS: Just vague stuff.

DISTRIBUTION: My site (Obsidian Quills at https://www.angelfire.com/realm/obsidianquills/index.ht ml) and the archive only.

FEEDBACK: Please! Always insecure and all that.

DISCLAIMERS: I don't own Jurassic Park or any of the characters or concepts therein. They belong to a variety of people with far more money than me. Please don't sue - I'm a helpless Canadian student.

DEDICATION: For kaly, of course.

The car ride back from the check up at the hospital was quiet. The uneasiness that had cropped up between Alan and Billy after their rescue - a product of mutual guilt - was slowly dissipating, but it hadn't quite gone yet. Billy couldn't help but feel that there was still something unresolved between them.

#No shit,# he thought to himself, ruefully.

He'd thought it was just hero worship, at first. He was going to be working with *Alan Grant*, the man who was not only the top paleontologist in his field, but also one of the few people who'd seen dinosaurs up close and personal and lived to talk about it.

So he'd put the mildly embarrassing excess of admiration to one side and done his best to remain professional with Dr. Grant. He figured living in close quarters with the man for weeks at a time on the dig would bring his "hero" down off the pedestal. It did. Right down to the level of a living and breathing, warm, *real* man.

Well, so the hero worship had devolved into a crush. He'd had crushes on professors before. In a couple of weeks he'd get tired of grinning at Alan across the bones of a raptor, of listening to him complain about the computers, of waking up at the crack of dawn so they could drive into town together for breakfast. Either that or Alan would get sick of him and let him know a little space would be appreciated.

Except that months went by and neither of those things happened. Alan certainly hadn't gotten sick of him. He'd just started to assume that wherever he was going, Billy would be going, too. Alan started showing up at random moments - while Billy carefully uncovering a bone, right after a casting had been completed, while he was working with Kellie (the new girl), just when he was slipping into his sleeping bag - with a bottle of beer and conversation.

He hadn't realized how far gone he was until Alan left for the first of a series of talks aimed at tempting someone into funding them. Billy found himself missing the other man constantly, going to bed early to make tomorrow come faster. Alan was only gone three days - two nights - but that was long enough for the dreams to start.

Dreams of crawling into his tent and finding Alan waiting for him. Dreams of kisses and warm, strong arms, dreams of passion and of afterglow.

When Alan returned, they settled right back into their easy camaraderie, but the dreams didn't stop. In fact, they got worse. Or better, depending on what you're judging by.

Oh, they had arguments. Fights even. There were days when, worried about funding, seeing their dream slipping away, all they could do was glare at each other in frustrated silence. But it always came back to a sentiment Alan had expressed once, the two of them drinking beer and looking across the dig at the stars on the horizon.

"Out here," he'd gestured at the expanse of flat, undeveloped land, "there are two kinds of people. The ones that rub your nerves raw and make you question your dreams, and the ones that make you laugh and fire you up with new ideas. Glad to be with one of the latter," and they'd clinked bottles.

For days after finally making it off Isla Sorna, all Billy had been able to feel was the pain of his injuries and a completely overwhelming relief that he and Alan had made it back alive. It hadn't seemed at all strange to him that Alan should want to drive him to and from every one of his check ups at the hospital. But as the relief receded, Billy became more and more aware that something had changed between them.

It worried him constantly. What if Alan wasn't comfortable working with him anymore? There may only have been three weeks of funding left for the dig, but they were three weeks he'd been looking forward to.

The car stopped, jerking him out of his thoughts. "We're here," Alan commented, and got out of the car to walk Billy up to his apartment as he had done half a dozen times before.

Billy jogged up the stairs to the third floor. "Feels good to be able to do that again," he commented, and grinned at Alan as they arrived in front of his apartment.

"You probably shouldn't be pushing it."

"Relax," Billy said, unlocking the door and pushing it open, "the doctor gave me a clean bill of health, remember? Even the broken ribs are back to good."

"Right," Alan said, and nodded as if he'd forgotten. They stood awkwardly in the doorway. "I suppose I should be going-"

"Oh, fuck it," Billy cut him off. Alan's eyes widened for a startled moment before Billy seized the front of his shirt, jerked him forward and laid a long, passionate kiss on his lips.

Billy had a moment to be utterly terrified that he'd just made the worst mistake of his *entire life*. Then Alan's arms slid around his waist and he was being kissed back just as passionately.

After a long, sweet moment, Billy remembered that the door was wide open. He might be out, but that didn't mean Alan was... Reluctantly he pulled back and, giving Alan's lips a parting nibble, took two steps over to the door and pulled it shut. Turning back, he caught the look of uncertainty in the older man's eyes. "Billy," he began.

"Oh, no you don't," Billy interrupted, placing his fingers on Alan's lips to hold back the words.

Alan went on anyway, "Billy, you're my student, we can't-"

"I don't care," Billy said fiercely. "Tell me to do it again or tell me never to touch you again, because I'm not going to listen to anything else. You're more important to me than any protest you can come up with."

There was a long, agonizingly silent pause before Alan finally gave his answer.

"Again." So quietly.

Billy sighed in relief and pulled Alan's head down for another kiss. Their lips parted for a brief moment, hardly far enough to take a breath, and then Alan surged forward and claimed Billy's mouth fast and hard, as though something had broken free inside him.

Instead of letting his surprise freeze him, Billy pushed it aside and held onto Alan with both hands. He fisted his hands into Alan's shirt and tugged it out of his hands. Pulling back just far enough to look at Alan, Billy grinned and led him out of the hallway and into his bedroom.

Alan's smile was distinctly bemused, but he followed. Billy had stripped him of his shirt and was working on his pants with customary enthusiasm when Alan's brain caught up with the situation. Laughing softly to himself, he tugged Billy's t-shirt off over his head. The interruption barely slowed him down.

"What's the rush?" Alan asked, running his hands over the skin of Billy's arms. Fading pink marks were all that was left of the attack. His fingers lingered on those spots.

"I think we've wasted enough time, don't you?" Billy asked, smiling though his eyes were serious.

"Maybe so," Alan murmured, his eyes on the marks that peppered Billy's chest, the legacy of jaws that had nearly crushed the younger man. They parted long enough to step out of their clothing and came together to hold each other even more closely than before.

Billy couldn't stop touching Alan. He never felt so free. The little catches in Alan's breath, the warm glide of hands over his skin... It was a dream come true. Quite literally. Billy smiled and pulled Alan up onto the bed with him. Why not make another dream come true?

"Alan," he said, pressing a kiss to his lover's lips, "I want," a kiss to his throat, "you," to his sternum, "to," to his stomach, "make love," to his thigh, "to me." Billy looked up then, needing to see Alan now. He looked taken aback momentarily. Billy's stomach tightened nervously, but before he could pull away Alan pulled him up for kiss, the full length of their bodies pressed together, his hand in the small of Billy's back.

"I want that, too," Alan breathed, as if afraid to say it aloud. Billy grinned and leaned over Alan to rummage in the bedside table. He brought forth an unopened tube of lube.

"Just because I was a boy scout," Billy said, "doesn't mean I got laid all that often."

Alan could only laugh. Then he rolled Billy underneath him and appropriated the tube. "I believe I'll be needing this."

Billy leaned up to kiss him again. "Then use it," he challenged, quirking an eyebrow.

Alan shook his head, smiling, and uncapped the tube. The slick liquid warmed quickly between the press of skin against skin. Alan eyes kept returning to Billy's face, enthralled by his complete surrender to his reactions. Beautiful. "Ready?" he asked, surprised by the roughness of his voice. Billy answered wordlessly, just raised his legs to Alan's shoulders.

Alan trembled, hardly able to believe that this was finally happening. He pressed inside Billy slowly, as much to savor the moment as to give his lover time to adjust. If anything, Billy seemed to think he was going too slowly. His heels pressed into Alan's back, urging him forward.

They moved together at an ever quickening pace. Control gave way to eagerness, sensuality to need. Alan surged into the embrace of Billy's body, and as completion washed over him he thought that maybe, just maybe, Isla Sorna was the best thing that ever happened to him.

--End--

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