Volant By foggynite Pairing: Alan/Billy Disclaimer: If they were mine, they would have shagged in the middle of the bloody island.

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"Alan?" Billy ducked into the main trailer, carefully stepping over crates of fossilized minerals.

"Yes?" The reply was testy, Alan being impatient to continue theorizing. Actually, it was more like he was staring at the wall. He needed to get that thumb tack hole patched.

"We're wrapping up for today, mostly." Billy came further into the dimly lit trailer, casually leaning a hip against the cluttered counter.

Dr. Grant was slouched in a battered office chair, dusty legs stretched out before him in the little space available. A capped pen was tapping out a staccato rhythm on the chair's plastic arm.

As Billy settled in for a chat, Alan tossed the pen lightly on the desk with mild irritation. At Billy or himself, he wasn't sure.

"How's the paper coming?" His assistant asked with a knowing smile, reminiscent of the days before Isla Sorna. Since leaving InGen's island two months ago, their easy-going relationship was strained. With all the media hype for weeks after, neither had found time to really discuss what had happened between them. The incident had brought Dr. Grant back into the public spotlight, drawing a few well-funded private donations that were enough to keep the dig site running another three months after their grant money ran out. With less than a month left though, Alan was pushing to finish his research in time.

Some Hollywood types had approached him about movie rights and whatnot, but he didn't want to get that desperate for funds- not after the Kirbys were able to blind him so easily with a little scrap of paper and six digits. No, he had been fooled once and had lost the focus of his research- an error that had almost cost Billy his life. Never mind the fact that he had accepted the check for the sake of his research and Billy had been all too willing to accompany him. He should have known better. . .

"Alan?" Billy had asked him a question again, crossing his arms across his chest with an 'I knew you weren't listening' smirk on his face.

"Sorry, Billy. I guess I'm getting senile in my old age. . ." The wistful, lost smile tinged with guilt was present more often these days too.

"You're not that old." His tone was teasing, trying to keep the conversation on safe grounds.

"Well, I'm not fossilized yet if it's any consolation." Alan tried a genuine smile to show he appreciated the effort.

"Although, even then I'd dig you up and make you finish that conference paper. No way am I getting saddled with it, boss." The banter was a familiar refrain, more like before the-- incident. Pointedly ignoring Alan's sarcastic, "Thanks," Billy continued on.

"So- Dinner?" He smiled his charming boyish grin, bright eyes crinkling in a way Alan could never resist.

"Alright," Alan growled and made a show of being reluctant to leave his work. Billy grinned anyway, obviously used to the gruff manner, and Grant was heartened by the hint of normalcy between them. There had been too much tension lately, but apparently his assistant was in a good mood today. He tried to ignore the bright brown eyes and long lashes, instead ducking his head to grab his hat off the shelves. Billy practically jumped down the rickety stairs, waiting for him expectantly at the edge of the dusty car park.

Emerging from his dark hovel of a trailer into the waning light, Alan paused a moment to survey the dig site if only to tease his impatient friend. Most of the students had left while he was stewing over his personal life in solitude, and the grounds had an oddly deserted feeling when compared with the earlier activities he had last seen. If he wasn't careful, this. tension he was obsessing over might start to adversely affect his work.

Oh, hell. To be honest, it already was. And having Billy finally making overtures to renew their friendship again confused him even more. They were on speaking terms, and could discuss their projects together, but there had been something missing. . . . like the comfortable feeling of being completely at ease with each other.

Sighing, Alan turned in the direction of his private trailer to freshen up. He had spent the morning poring over the new velociraptor nest they had discovered not far from the original site, and his shirt was caked with dust and sweat. He found his way blocked by his enthusiastic assistant, though.

"C'mon, you can clean up when we get back."

Billy was attempting not to grin and failed horribly. He was also leaning forward on the balls of his feet. Such was his tendency when he had a new discovery he wanted to surprise Alan with, generally something that would make his teacher squirm a bit. Dr. Grant regarded him warily.

"I'm afraid I'm a bit unpresentable, even for the roadhouse." He slapped the dirt from his jeans for emphasis.

"You'll just get dirty again, anyway." Stopping short of pulling Alan by the hand, Billy ushered him towards the vehicles. Giving an indulgent snort, he allowed himself to be led.

To his consternation, Billy kept walking past the truck and presented him with a shiny black thing that looked like a motorbike. He frowned.

"Whose is this? Did one of the students leave."

"No, no. It's mine." At Alan's questioning look, Billy continued proudly. "My parents finally started talking to me again, after the whole internationally-covered-almost-dying episode. Apparently they realized they only had one son, and he wasn't going to change. So. This is my graduation present!"

While not wanting to spoil Billy's excited mood, Alan couldn't refrain from commenting, "They contact you after almost losing you, and then they give you a deathtrap so you can smear yourself across the pavement?"

"But it's not just *any* deathtrap! *This* is an Aprilia RST1000 Futura." His voice was reverent. "It does 0 to 60 in 3.2 seconds, and can reach up to 145 mph on the open road. *This,* Alan, is *power.*"

Still tingling from the rapture in Billy's expression, Alan didn't realize exactly what was going on until the younger man retrieved two helmets from the seat.

"Oh no. No way." He tried to shove the presented helmet back from whence it came.

"Aw, c'mon." Billy turned on the puppy dog eyes. "I promise I'll go slow. Just try it out; it was made for two people. Or are you too scared?"

Minutes later, Alan found himself straddling the bike with Billy between his legs. This ride was going to be pure hell. He even had to leave his hat back in his truck. Too bad he was going to die without it, as that hat had been a trusted friend over the years. Unfortunately, the tragedy seemed lost on young Mr. Brennan, who craned his neck back to grin devilishly at Alan before jamming his own helmet on top of his unruly curls. Alan tugged at the padding near his neck.

Flipping his visor up, Billy cautioned, "Hold on to my waist, otherwise you'll be kicked back when we start."

Gulping, Alan hugged the bike tighter with his thighs, resting his calves against the saddlebags and leaning forward a little. He wound his arms around Billy's slim, firm waist and swallowed dryly.

"Hang on!"

With a twist of the key, the bike's engine rumbled to life. The first jolt of acceleration had Alan clinging to Billy for dear life. The stomach muscles under his fingers twitched convulsively, and he determinedly started reciting the site's grid inventory in his mind. The bumpy gravel underneath intensified his discomfort.

*Site A, Section 04, Grid DL, Item 21, a fragment of-*

Warmth was seeping into his shirt from the compact body in front of him. The ass on the seat between his thighs shifted with each curve on the access road. The breeze was chilly as they picked up a little speed, still going slow until they reached asphalt, and it just served to make him more aware of the heat, the raspy rumble beneath him, and the way his arms fit perfectly around Billy. The building tension in his muscles was killing him.

*Dammit.*

A hard bump and they were on paved road. His ass was going slowly numb, but he was afraid to move for fear of falling off the bike or having Billy notice exactly what kind of effect he was having on him.

*He's a student. I will not take advantage of him. He still has to turn in his dissertation. Never mind that it's already finished, that's not an excuse, self. He hasn't graduated yet. I will not take advantage of him. He's young. He has nice eyes and a great smile. He's in great shape, too. He's-- too young, dammit! And off limits, self. Off. Limits.*

Alan had never been happier to see Bob's Bar and Grill than when they finally arrived. Getting off the bike, his knees and hips protested and he barely suppressed a groan of relief at being stationary. Billy swung a well-toned leg over the seat, wide smile revealed as he took his helmet off. Alan felt his earlier grumpiness returning.

"Now wasn't that a nice, smooth ride?" The mischievous smirk mocked his earlier qualms. Alan grunted and started walking towards the door.

"Maybe I shouldn't eat before getting back on. . . ."

He entered the building to the sound of Billy's laughter, angry with himself because he shouldn't feel so enamoured and uncomfortable with a student. Even if Billy was so amazingly full of life that people practically prostrated themselves before him.

They made their way to their regular booth without speaking. Alan was too deep in his thoughts to do more than nod a greeting to the other patrons they knew as he and Billy filed past the bar. A waitress soon followed with two beers, setting the mugs down as they slid into their seats. Billy flirted with the woman and placed their order, while Alan took the time to examine the design painted on his helmet. It was a dull grey velociraptor skeleton with a fedora perched on its skull at a jaunty angle, on a black background and in a wispy, almost whimsical style. Cute.

"Did your parents buy you this?" He asked once the waitress had left.

"Um, nah. That I picked up myself." Billy was blushing and Alan cocked an eyebrow. "They bought me this one." He lifted his helmet, showing the pteranadon design in the same style as Alan's.

"A deathtrap and the animals that tried to kill you. Hmm."

"Mom's quirky?" Billy offered with an amused shrug. Then his expression turned contemplative. "Pteranadons were always my favorite dinosaur as a kid. Mom had read about the incident in the papers, but didn't know exactly how I'd been injured, just the whole critical care bit. So she bought me the Futura, complete with a helmet showing something she remembered I liked in a futile attempt to reconnect with her 'Billy boy,' and showed up at the site last night out of the blue."

Alan just nodded and digested the information. Billy had never spoken of his parents before, so Alan had just assumed they were a typical middle class family from Pittsburgh. Buying a motorcycle as a 'let's reconnect' present did not fit into his preconceived equation. Maybe there was a lot about Billy he didn't know.

"You mentioned 'reconnecting.' When was the last time you two spoke before last night?" Fearful of treading on shaky ground, he was almost hesitant with the question. Billy gave him a quick grin to allay his concerns.

"Five years." He paused. "That was when they officially disowned me, but we hadn't really been talking for about six years before that. Since my senior year of high school, actually. . . ."

Alan continued to watch his face attentively, eager for Billy to continue speaking. Their food arrived, though, and the conversation trailed off. The waitress, Jean, smiled at Alan and gave Billy a wink.

"Brought you boys extra potatoes. Thought you could use some fattening up."

Alan smiled back for once. "Thank you , Jean. It looks wonderful."

"Oh, you. Ya'll enjoy your meal now."

After she left they dug into their food, falling into a heavy silence unlike their usual dinners out. Billy started picking at his food once he had eaten his fill, and continued the conversation.

"It was kinda weird having her show up, just out of the blue. My father refused to come along with her, so she flew out by herself and bought the Futura in my name. . ." He trailed off as Alan finished with his own meal. Taking a sip of beer, Billy met his eyes. "My fascination with extreme sports was always a touchy point with her, but she never told me to stop, y'know? My dad thought I was just wasting money, and I did waste a lot of my savings account, but I just had to get all of it out of my system. There's something about the adrenaline rush that makes you feel alive. Then we went to Isla Sorna, and now I think I'm ready to settle down to digging bones for the rest of my life."

The joking tone belied the statement he was making. Alan shifted in his seat and steered away from the tempting subtext. "So your parents disowned you for all the death-defying shenanigans."

"Well, not exactly. My dad actually disowned me because I'm gay, and my mother followed his lead." Billy paused, realizing he had just stated unequivocally that he wasn't straight and waited for Alan's reaction. Alan studied the remains of his steak with great interest.

He had known, of course. It had been alluded to before in their conversations, when Billy had stopped playing the pronoun game. The question was, did he want to reciprocate and share his own experiences? The lost look in Billy's eyes decided for him. Settling deeper into his seat, he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Well, some things can be hard for a father to accept about his child. Especially his only son. Luckily, my parents still had three other children to coddle after they were informed of some of my more. . . . untraditional university relationships. Not that my father didn't go through the roof and beat the stuffing out of me, but they weren't totally devastated." He looked out over the smoky bar, avoiding Billy's startled gaze.

"Did he ever come around?" The subdued question was at once sympathetic and hopeful.

"He had a heart attack before we could patch things up. My mother had tried a few times, but we were both more than a little too proud to give in first." He smiled reassuringly with a shrug, finally looking at Billy. "My mother and youngest brother call from time to time, but the other two still abide by father's wishes."

"How did she feel when Ellie left?" Billy always did go straight to the point when he wanted to know something, and this seemed to be more than idle curiosity.

"She was disappointed. Wanted to know what I did or didn't do." Two uncomfortable topics in one night. He was doing great today.

"I wish I could've worked with Dr. Sattler. She's quite a lady." His assistant was looking for a specific reaction from him, Alan was sure, but the older man didn't know what. He just shrugged again.

"Yes, she is. And she's happy with her life now, so I'm happy for her. She definitely needed someone less-" He searched for the best word to describe himself.

"Negative?" Billy offered teasingly. "Stubborn? Pessimistic? Brooding?"

"You can stop now," Alan growled with an exasperated frown. The other man just laughed.

"It's okay. And I don't mind your brooding; it gets you out of my hair for hours on end."

With a warning sideways glare, Alan scooted out of his seat. "Keep it up and I'll touch the computer. And just for that, you pay tonight."

"It was my turn anyways. And stay away from the computer." Billy followed him after throwing a wad of bills on the table.

The sun was set when they left the diner, but the sky was still a rainbow of purples and oranges. Hefting his helmet up, Billy turned to him.

"Want to go for a ride?" His grin was daring. Alan gave a resigned sigh.

"You're the one driving. I don't see how I can stop you."

"True."

Mounting the bike behind Billy again, Alan was prepared for the starting jolt. This time, his arms went around the man in front of him without hesitation. Settling in, he decided to just enjoy the ride.

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TBC

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