Archive of Our Own

"Hello?  …Who is this?"

"Have you seen the news?"

"...Y- I'm- I'm watching it now."

"...Can I come see you?"

"Of course."

"Where are you now?"

"A house near Helena.  Address is-"

"Could you text it to me please?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, I can do that."

"Okay.  …Shit."

"What is it?"

"...Well, I'll be there tomorrow sometime, hopefully around seven PM.  I'll text you when I'm a couple hours out.  If it's too late, let me know, okay?"

"It's fine- whenever is fine."

"Thanks.  Well, bye."

"Bye, Billy."

Alan’s eyes struggled to make sense of the man on his doorstep.  Though he’d been expecting him since his phone call yesterday, matching this weary traveler person to the young man he once knew proved a challenge.

Until those cheerful, hazel eyes met Alan’s and struck him to the bone.

“Hey,” he managed, not realizing he was smiling until Billy mirrored him.

“Hey.”  After a moment, he looked past Alan’s shoulder, rocking on his heels.

“Oh, sorry- come in.”

“Thanks.”

Billy cast a curious glance around the cabin’s living room before he settled on the couch, favoring his left leg almost imperceptibly.  “Nice place.”

Alan sat in the recliner at his side, facing the muted television.  “Thanks.  Well, it needs some work done still.  I’m not home often enough to… to do it.”

Billy laid his hat upon his lap- a hat Alan couldn’t help but notice bore a strong resemblance to his own that Billy used to love so much.  He shook his head.

“Can I get you something- a beer?”

A small, familiar smile warmed Billy’s face.  “Do you still keep that awful whiskey?”

Alan snorted, relieved to flee to the safety of the kitchen, if only for a moment.  He spent that moment struggling in vain to wrap his head around the situation.  Hours of preparation had not been enough.  With yesterday’s catastrophe and after a night of almost no sleep, his head was a mess, but Billy had driven almost a full day to come here.  Alan steadied himself, filled two glasses with ice and whiskey that he brought back to the living room, and set the bottle on the table.

The news played silently while they sat and drank, running over the same story on repeat with no apparent change.  Alan glanced at Billy who seemed enthralled by the fireplace ahead of him, cradling his glass against his chest.  His hair was longer now, but no less curly.  His face appeared a bit slimmer, and traced by fine lines of age.  Despite the changes, the longer Alan looked, the more he saw of Billy’s old self.

Billy caught him staring and gave a little shrug.  “It’s not as bad as I remember.”

“Some things get better with age.”  Alan was exasperated at his own choice of words, and desperately searched to change the subject.  “So what have you been up to?”

Billy sipped his drink.  “It’s been sixteen years, Alan.  You’ll have to be more specific.”

Alan’s heart dropped before Billy mercifully laughed.  It may have been at his expense, but god, did he miss that sound.

“I’m just messing with you.  I’m teaching now, if you can believe it.  Berkeley.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have taken you for the sort,” Alan stammered, feigning surprise.

“I’ve still managed to get some field work in.  I was on a dig in Wyoming a few months back.  We found a diplodocus nest.”

“I read about that.”

Billy nodded, and the mischievous smile returned.  “You been keeping tabs on me?”

“ No, ” Alan replied indignantly.

Billy raised his eyebrows.

“...I did notice your name on the list.”

“...Not that you were looking.”

Alan studied Billy’s blank face that was once again turned to the fire, wondering if that was bitterness he’d heard.  He had every right to it, Alan knew, but he was wrong.  Alan always looked.

Billy took another sip and turned back to him.  “So what about you?”

For a long time they just talked, recounting occasions in their lives that the other had missed, sharing random memories that time had leant value to.  Relearning the way each other spoke.  Alan reeled over every new scrap of information, filling holes in all his imaginings of what had become of Billy.

“I tried writing a book once,” Billy told him.  “So… I found out where all of your patience went.”

He laughed freely, just like he always had.  He was every bit as vibrant as he’d ever been, though it seemed to Alan that he spoke and laughed with purpose rather than naivety.  The years had been good to him.

The next lull in the conversation was a comfortable one, eased by the crackling of the fire and the warmth of fond memories still floating between them.  Billy finished his drink and poured a bit more from the bottle before settling back again.

“I still look over my shoulder when I’m in the open for too long.”  Billy’s hand wandered to his left knee, rubbing it absently.  “And now… that fear is warranted.”

It was the reason he’d called, and now that they were past catching up, he met Alan’s eyes, waiting for an answer or perhaps a solution that Alan didn’t have.  “...I never got how you made it past that, you know?”

Billy was quiet after that, giving Alan time to consider his reply.  He’d always been specially patient with Alan.  Of course, back then, he’d looked up to him.  He’d seen something in him that Alan wasn’t sure even existed.  As much as that used to trouble him, Alan found himself relieved now to see that their previous rapport hadn’t all been lost to bitterness.

“It took a while to feel safe again,” he admitted.  “The second time especially.  And at the risk of sounding dreadfully cliche, my work is my life, for whatever that’s worth.  I didn’t have much choice.”

“...I was always kinda jealous of your focus.  In more ways than one.”

Alan thought he understood what Billy meant by that, but he still wished he would clarify.  They were both too old for any unnecessary confusion.

“You helped me too,” Alan reminded him.  “You remember for a while I was thinking about teaching full-time.”

Billy scratched his head, slowly nodding as the memory came back.  “I think I remember arguing with you about it.  I just thought you were tired of begging for funds.  Especially after- you know.  But I wasn’t gonna let you give up on the thing you were most passionate about.  …You never mentioned that it had anything to do with… that.”

“It didn’t seem important.”  Billy had already had enough trauma to deal with- he didn’t need to carry Alan’s.

Alan took a sip of his whiskey and froze when he noticed how intensely Billy was watching him.  Smiling behind what Alan could swear was a blush, Billy gave him a nod.

“I like the beard.  It suits you.”

“Oh.”  Alan swiped a hand over his jaw, nervous under the attention despite himself.  “As if I needed help looking my age.”

The smile fell from Billy’s face and his gaze found the fire once more.

At first Alan couldn’t put his finger on why, but he knew they’d been here before.  “What did I say?”

Billy’s right knee bounced nervously.  He’d always been fidgety.  It used to drive Alan crazy.

“You still do that- that thing.”

“What thing ?”

“You focus on the negative.  You talk about your life as if everything good has to already be behind you.  That’s no way to live, Alan.”

It was a layered argument they’d had too often to be counted as constructive.  “Well, it’s not as if I’ve gotten younger.”

“Neither have I,” Billy snapped, and sighed.  “Maybe it’s because I’m not okay with my own mortality that it always bothered me so much when you were.”

That had never been the reason.  “For someone worried about dying, you’ve sure taken a lot of risks.”

Billy snorted, a mischievous look creeping upon his face.  “I climbed Mount Everest.”

Alan laughed before he could catch himself.  “I guess I’m relieved you’re not even trying to deny it anymore.”

“It’s not that dangerous when the weather’s right, if you have an experienced team.  Eric came with me.”

Alan frowned.  “Eric Kirby?  His parents allowed that?”

“He was in his twenties, Alan, how were they gonna stop him?”

Alan shook his head, smiling despite himself.  It was hard to imagine Eric all grown up, but more importantly…  “You’re still in touch with the Kirby’s?”

Billy rolled his eyes at his incredulity.  “They’re good people.  I know what they did was fucked up, but you might have done the same thing in their shoes if you loved someone that much.”

Alan felt the sting of those words.  The way that Billy avoided his eyes this time told him he’d meant it the way it sounded.

Alan took another drink.  “Do you have pictures?”

Billy looked lost, and it shouldn’t have been as cute as it was.  “What?”

“Of Mount Everest.”

“Oh.”  Billy searched on his phone before handing it to Alan.  “Here’s the folder.”

The photo Alan selected first showed Billy and an adult Eric standing with a group at what appeared to be the bottom of the mountain.

“Swipe left whenever-”

“I know how to use a phone, Billy,” Alan insisted.

“Really?  Maybe you have changed.”  Billy smirked.  “I bet you still have that Nokia, though.”

“Very funny.”  Alan went through the photos, amused by the sillier ones the group had staged among pictures of the scenery.

These had always been Billy’s people.

“What was it like?”

“It was a blast.  I could barely walk by the time we got down, though.”  He gave his knee a pat.  “The cold didn’t exactly agree with the metal.  And for extra fun, I lost my phone at base camp.”

Billy chuckled, making light of the matter as he was apt to do.

“That’s unfortunate.”  When Alan finished, he handed the phone back to Billy, who looked down at the blank screen in thought.  Alan remembered how enthusiastic Billy used to get when he’d talk about his adventures, and couldn’t help feeling that the silence now was his fault.

“That’s amazing that you did that, Billy, that you didn’t let-”  He hesitated, but it was clear what he meant.  Amidst three surgeries and months of physical therapy, Billy’s future mobility had been a constant worry, and it warmed Alan’s heart to see how far he’d come.  “You didn’t let anything hold you back.”

Billy nodded, still focused on the phone as he forced a smile.  “You know… that whole flight back, I kept thinking…”  A small laugh of embarrassment escaped him.  “If you ever tried to call me, you’d think I’d abandoned you.”

He’d left without a goodbye.  Alan recalled the slam of his car door better than any of the words that had passed between them.

“And if I ever wanted to get in touch with you, well, going through a website or an assistant isn’t the easiest route to drunk dialing an ex-boyfriend.”

The word took Alan aback slightly, and Billy noticed.  Of course he noticed- he’d been looking for it.

“That’s what we were, weren’t we?”

Alan took a deep breath, preparing for a negative reaction.  “I was never sure, I suppose.”

Billy gave a simple nod.  “...What were you sure of?”

He spoke softly, suddenly as cautious of that chapter in their lives as Alan was.  Alan had to be honest.

“How I felt about you.”

He was grateful that Billy didn’t press him further, and the smug smile he received only irked him a little.

“Has there been anyone else?”

Alan had been afraid he’d hear some form of that question tonight, and he’d dreaded it.

“One night stands count,” Billy remarked playfully, knowing full well that Alan wasn’t the type.

“That’s a bit crude,” Alan diverted, but Billy was waiting expectantly now.

“It’s been a long time, Alan, it’s okay,” he teased.

“No,” Alan answered finally, and at Billy’s doubtful frown, “Really.”

“Come on.”

“What do you want me to say- do you want me to make something up so I seem less-...”  Alan sighed, frustrated with his own outburst and Billy’s part in it.

Billy looked a touch concerned, but still smug.

Anxious to avoid any other questions of that nature, Alan tried a different method to distract him.  “Well, what about you, since we’re talking about this now?”

Billy’s smile turned impish.  “Like I mentioned, I’ve… managed to get in some field work.”

Alan couldn’t justify his annoyance at that.  He’d always felt that Billy wasn’t ready to settle down with another person- or in any sense- but the thought of him with anyone else still hurt.

“So, if you’re not seeing anyone, whose bike is that in the driveway?”

Alan sipped his whiskey and attempted to uncover the mystery of the fireplace.

“You didn’t- you did?”  Billy laughed.  “Alan, don’t you know ‘those things can kill you?’”

Alan rolled his eyes.

“‘They’re called donor-cycles for a reason!’”

“Alright-”

“Did you miss me that bad?”

He had- that was the embarrassing part.  He’d only ridden on the back of Billy’s motorcycle one time- before they were together, back when Billy’s charm could get him to do anything.  After Isla Sorna, Alan made a habit of nagging him to get rid of it.  He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he bought one for himself, but it was a year to the day after Billy left, so lying to himself about his motivation was impossible.

“I don’t use it on the road,” he said.  “Just… out around dig sites, mostly.”

He’d never been one for leaving the digs before.  He was too wrapped up in his work most of the time.  He saw clearly now that he’d been searching for whatever Billy had found so fun about exploring.  It was a sad attempt at somehow keeping Billy with him.

“You’ll have to take me for a ride sometime.  You do owe me one.”

He’d have to leave his house eventually, but he didn’t want to think about that right now.  He couldn’t see himself using the motorcycle ever again.

“...How did you get my number?” he asked.

“I had it written down.  Back when paper was ‘relevant.’”  Billy shrugged.  “It’d already been twelve years by that point.  But I never stopped hoping.”

A jolt of fear went through Alan.  If he’d called, would Billy have come back?  Could Alan have kept him in his life if he’d only called and made some attempt to apologize?

“I never meant for things to happen the way they did,” he whispered.

“What did happen, Alan?”

Alan leaned back into his seat, eyes flicking to the TV before he decidedly looked away.  “You don’t wanna hear my excuses.”

“No, I do, I really do.”  Billy’s voice shook with sudden emotion.  “You have no idea , how much time I’ve spent trying to figure out if I did something wrong, or just said something stupid-”

“It wasn’t you,” Alan promised him.

Billy sighed, breathing a bit heavily now.  “Then why did you tell me I’d ‘understand when I was older?’”

Alan cringed at the memory.  During their whole drive back to his apartment, he’d carefully considered what to say, but those ridiculous words had managed to slip out all the same.

“I’m older now,” Billy said with an exasperated shrug.  “...And it still hurts.”

Alan had spent the last sixteen years in fear of that.  “I’m sorry,” he said uselessly.  “I never wanted to hurt you, Billy.  And I didn’t expect you to leave like that.”

“You thought telling me ‘Hey, this isn’t going anywhere’ was gonna go over well?”  Billy huffed, rubbing his eyes.  “I’m not angry anymore,” he stated, but it seemed he was reminding himself.  “I don’t know where this is coming from.  I think I just rehearsed what I would say to you for so long, that- I don’t know.”

“...It’s okay.  I never figured out what I would say to you, if I ever had the chance.  Nothing made up for how I behaved.  All I could ever come up with was, ‘I’m sorry.’”

“No change there, then.  …I’m messing with you again.”

“Give me some warning next time.”

Billy smirked.  “Never.”

Alan ran his thumb over the rim of his glass as he gathered the courage to delve back into the sensitive topic.  “That wasn’t what I said.”

“Hm?”

“I said, ‘This can’t go anywhere.’  Not that it ‘wasn’t.’”

“What difference does it make?”

“I was happy being with you.  But I knew one day-”

At the subtle tilt of Billy’s head, Alan caught himself.

“I was afraid that one day you’d regret your choice.  And you wouldn’t want to tell me.  And then you’d be unhappy, or realize you were unhappy, and that would be my fault.”

“I was an adult , Alan- that was my choice to make!”

“I felt like I was taking something from you.”

“You didn’t take anything from me except the chance of you and I having a life together!”  Billy leaned back in his seat, scoffing.  “You never asked me how I felt because no matter what you said when things were good, you didn’t believe I was mature enough to make my own decisions.”

“I didn’t want to become a regret,” Alan reiterated, keeping his tone level.

Billy sipped the whiskey again, making a face of disgust this time, though Alan felt that had more to do with the conversation than the alcohol.  Billy was quiet for a minute, calming himself.  When he spoke again, his voice still quivered.  “I did regret you for a while.  I was angry, Alan.  So angry.  After a few months, I realized I felt that way because if I didn’t, I’d just feel sad.  And then that was all I felt.  Got in a bad place for a while.”

There were definitely tears in his eyes now.  The thought of him suffering so much because Alan had allowed their friendship to cross that line made him ache.  Out of long-forgotten instinct, he reached out, gripping Billy’s good knee.

“If you’d ever asked me for help, I’d have been there for you,” he said gently.

Billy gave a wet laugh.  “I know that,” he said earnestly.  “But I couldn’t face you like that.”

“I’m-” Alan caught himself before he could apologize again- ‘sorry’ held little meaning at this point.

“...You never saw me as an equal.”

“I didn’t see you as unequal.  But you’d always looked up to me.  Sought my approval.”

Billy smiled wryly.  “Guess I still am, huh?”  He patted the hand on his knee, a brief, cold motion that Alan took as a sign to let go.  “I didn’t come here to argue with you.  I just wanna understand.  I figured I’ve wondered long enough- been afraid to approach you long enough.”

“I’m glad you came.”

Billy sighed, relaxing again.  “So, did you make up your mind when you saw my mom, or when we met up with my old friends?  I remember you asking me how old she was.  I pretended I wasn’t sure ‘cause I knew why you asked.”

They both knew that that trip had been the trigger.  Billy was so excited to share all of that with Alan- his friends and family, his hometown- and Alan had been so cold the whole time.  Even if it was out of fear, he wished he’d tried a bit harder to enjoy himself.  Meeting Billy’s mother had been awkward, despite her best efforts to express approval of her only child’s choice of partner.  In retrospect, the only awkwardness had come from Alan himself.  But that wasn’t the instance that forced him into a downward spiral.

“It was a lot of things,” he said, “but something one of your friends said- I just couldn’t get it out of my head.”

“Which friend?”

Alan barely remembered their names when he’d met them at the restaurant that night.  There was too much noise, too much pressure…  “The one with the hair.”

“Tyler.”  Billy pressed his lips together.

“Something about-”

“‘Trauma must be a hell of a drug.’  I remember.  I wanted to punch his lights out then.  Even more now.”

“...He was right, though, wasn’t he?”  Alan credited the whiskey for the boldness of his question.

Billy’s frown was a challenge.  “What?”

Alan knew his confusion was insincere, but he rose to the bait.  “Billy, we shared an extremely traumatic experience-”

“Of course we did, but we were friends before- we were close before!  And if you couldn’t see that it’s because your head was always in the dirt.”

“And that’s where it should’ve stayed- you know, apart from the age gap between us, you worked for me-”

Billy shook his head doggedly.  “No, that can’t be it.  I know that bothered you- you made it very clear that it bothered you- but- Alan- we were happy, weren’t we?  Maybe you remember it differently, but the time I spent with you was the best part of my life, even with all the shit I went through after Isla Sorna.  You were there for me, you helped me.  Was I too much?”

“No.”

“Then what was it really?  Did you think I’d get bored and cheat on you?”

“ No .  There wasn’t a moment I didn’t trust you, Billy.  But I did expect you to discover after the excitement wore off that… that you could do better.”

Billy stared at him curiously, as if amazed that Alan couldn’t see this from his point of view.  “There was no one better than you,” he said, almost reverently.

It was selfish to even think it, but Alan wondered if he still felt that way, because he shared one part of Billy’s sentiment.  Their relationship was something he’d never experienced with anyone else.  In so many ways, they just clicked.  But…

“We were too different to last, Billy.”

“That’s bullshit.  Differences are good.”

“I could never keep up with you.”

“I didn’t expect you to.  I wanted you because you kept me grounded.”

“I felt like I was clipping your wings.”

“You-”  Billy cut himself off, considering Alan’s words.  Alan panicked when he stood up, but Billy just sat on the floor in front of the fireplace instead, his left leg extended a bit to the side, but clearly leaving room for Alan to join him.  Alan decided not to disappoint him this time, though his own joints resented him for it.

Billy was rubbing the edge of his glass against his bottom lip, gazing into the flames.  “Did you know I was married for a few months?”

“I really haven’t been stalking you.”

Billy chuckled.  “You knew her.”

Alan waited a moment for him to continue.  “You want me to guess, don’t you?”

Billy just smiled at him.  Alan searched his memory.

“...Cheryl?”

“Well, that did not take long.”

“Ah.”

“C’mon, you can be honest.”

“...She didn’t seem right for you.”

“Do you know why?”

Of course Alan knew.  “You were too much alike.”

Billy nodded.  “That and she was having sex with someone who I’d thought was a mutual friend.”

“God.”

“Well, we got married on an impulse.  That was her way of telling me she wanted out, I guess.”

It annoyed Alan that Billy was notably less bitter about her than he was about him, despite the clear imbalance of their offenses.  Then he realized why.

“...It really never bothered you.”  Five minutes ago, it would have been a question.  “The looks we’d get.  The one time I let you hold my hand in public and that- that jackass who-…”

“I didn’t enjoy that part, but it wasn’t going to stop me from being with the person I loved.  So no, it didn’t bother me.  Beyond the fact that I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t-”

“You don’t have to rationalize everything, you know?”  Billy sighed, apparently in relief.  “I know I came on too strong, and I was upset that night, and you felt responsible for what had happened to me.”

Alan had always felt somewhat responsible, but he wouldn’t have surrendered to Billy’s advances if they’d been unwelcome.  He got caught up in it all so quickly, and despite his fears that what he was doing was selfish, he’d convinced himself for a while that Billy could be happy with him.

“Looking back at it,” Billy mused.  “I don’t think I gave you much choice.  I should’ve expected you’d push me away eventually, I just… I thought I made you happy, too.”

Billy did make him happy.  Seeing him again- even if it was to revisit one of the worst days of Alan’s life- it made him realize just how much.  “The last thing I wanted was to lose you, but I couldn’t risk ruining your life- or your career.”

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“You’d be amazed what that could have done to your reputation if word had gotten around.”

Billy shook his head, so many unearthed thoughts flashing in his eyes that Alan wished to hear.  On that day, Billy would barely close his mouth long enough to listen to the points Alan was trying to make.  He’d been so angry, and Alan had always assumed it was because he knew deep down that Alan was right.  Perhaps instead, it was the tipping point for his frustration with Alan’s own shame, or because he’d been so afraid of losing him.  Could he really have loved Alan that much?  He couldn’t wrap his head around that then, but he found himself trying to now.

For all of Alan’s gruffness and lack of verve, he’d always done his best to support Billy, and he’d always loved him the best he could.  Perhaps that really had been enough, despite all of Alan’s efforts to believe and to make Billy believe otherwise.

“How old do I have to be for you to actually listen to me?”

Alan wished he’d listened a little more carefully.

“You still do that too.”

Alan looked up from the fire, shaking himself from his thoughts.  “Do what?”

“You get lost in the middle of a crowd,” Billy said fondly.

“Two is company,” Alan corrected casually.

Billy swirled the melting ice in his glass.  “There’d be times you were pretty hard to reach.  Do you remember what I told you about that?”

“I kept apologizing for it,” Alan remembered aloud, “and you said it didn’t matter cause you’d always come dig me out.”

“And I always did.  Except for that last day, you were just… lost in your head and I couldn’t get through.  Not that I wasn’t loud enough.”  Billy chuckled softly at the sad memory, then winced as if in pain.  “God, I was… I don’t know how you put up with me sometimes.  I thought maybe that was it?  Maybe I wasn’t mature enough for you.  Then for a while, I thought maybe you’d found someone else, but I couldn’t get that to add up.  But I knew there was something you weren’t telling me.  I just wish you’d told me the whole truth.”

Alan did too.  “The whole truth included something that would have made you stay.”

“What’s that?”

“You know what.”  Alan could tell from his voice- Billy just wanted him to admit it.  Alan found the words too heavy at the moment.

“...When we got home that night, I knew something was wrong.  Really wrong.  I kept… begging you to talk to me.  If I hadn’t, if I’d given you time, do you think you would’ve come out of that?”

Alan didn’t have an answer.  “There’s no way of knowing now.”

Billy nodded and finished off his glass.  “...You know what did bother me?  You were so damn messy. ”

They shared a laugh.  There wasn’t much Alan could say in defense.

“God, every surface in that trailer was just covered in random shit you didn’t wanna get rid of.  You got so mad at me when I tried to clean up.”

“You never know what you might need!”

“Yeah, a months old receipt from the hardware store?”

“I let you throw that away.”

“That was all you let me throw away!  You know when I saw photos of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, my first thought was, ‘Wow, this takes me back.’”

Alan shook his head.  “It wasn’t that bad,” he insisted, “and I knew where everything was.”

“ You did- I was always losing my keys cause they’d get swallowed up by the abyss.”

“ That was because you never put them in the same place twice.”

“I still would’ve needed a map to find them.”

“Now who’s being dramatic?”

Billy’s smile only faded when his eyes flicked to the TV, though he quickly looked away again.  If what had happened hadn’t happened, Alan wondered if they’d ever have spoken again.

As if reading his thoughts, Billy broke the silence.  “I came here because I didn’t want the last time I saw you to be the last time.  And if this wasn’t an excuse to call you, then I don’t know what is.”

Though Billy’s safety had been one of Alan’s first concerns, he knew he wouldn’t have had the courage to call, but then, he’d never been one to make the first move.  “I’m grateful you did.”

Billy side eyed him with a playful smile.  “You’re ‘grateful?’  …You’re not happy to see me, are you?”

“I am, of course I am,” Alan replied firmly.  “It’s… just guilt, Billy.  I hurt you, and whether it was right or wrong of me to let you go, I could have done better to prevent that.  I should have.”

“...Do you think we could ever move past that?”  He met Alan’s eyes hopefully.

“I want to.”

“That sounds like a yes.”  Billy shifted a little, moving ever so slightly closer.

It made Alan’s skin burn with anticipation that he thwarted out of habit.  “I still can’t help thinking I shouldn’t have let it happen at all,” he confessed.

“Do you regret it?” Billy asked, undeterred.

“That’s a loaded question.”

“I don’t think so.”

“...I’ve tried to.”

This time when Billy’s eyes wandered to the TV, they didn’t leave.  Alan followed his gaze to see a video of a parasaurolophus running across a highway in northern California, causing a pileup.

“Do you think they’ll kill them all?” Billy asked.

“They don’t have much choice now, do they?  They’re too dangerous to go free.”

“Yeah.  But I bet there’s a lot of money in capturing them alive.”

Alan hated that he was right.  He wondered if the animals would make it this far east.  The idea of living every day in that fear he’d felt on those islands made his blood run cold.

He turned his attention back to Billy, an unearned sense of hope mingling with regret.  Noticing his stare, Billy met it fearlessly.

“You were always capable of making your own decisions,” Alan stated.  “I shouldn’t have treated you as if you weren’t.  I shouldn’t have put my own doubts on you.  That wasn’t fair of me.”

Billy blinked rapidly as a sad smile came over his face.  “Thank you.  Maybe that’s all I wanted.  That’s better than I’d hoped for, to be honest.”

After another moment of silence, Alan stood up and turned the TV off.  “It’s late.  I imagine you haven’t slept much.”  He extended a hand, helping Billy to his feet.

“Took me almost seven hours just to get out of California.”  Billy squeezed his hand before letting go.  “There’s a lot of panic going around.”

“You’re safe here,” Alan assured him.

Billy nodded, picking his hat off the couch and preparing to lie down.

“No, this way.”

Alan led him into his bedroom.  Suddenly flustered, he stuck his hands into his pockets only to take them out again.  “There’s clothes in the dresser, if you need.  Don’t know if you brought anything with you or not.”

“I packed a bag but it’s my car,” Billy replied.  “Wasn’t sure if I’d be staying or not.”

“I think you’ve done enough driving for the last twenty-four hours.”  Alan rifled through the dresser himself.  “Just need to grab a couple of things-”

“Alan, I’m not gonna put you out of your bed.”

“I'm sure that car ride didn't do your knee any favors, and that couch certainly isn't going to.  Anyway, I’m so tired I could pass out on the floor.  It’s okay.”

Before he could make it to the door, Billy’s voice stopped him.  “Didn’t you get lonely?”

Alan gave the sad, but honest admission over his shoulder.  “That’s why I bought the motorcycle.”

He heard Billy take a step closer.  “Alan, why wasn’t there anyone else after me?”

Alan wasn’t quite sure himself until he turned around.  “...No one could ever replace you.”

Billy closed the distance between them, with heat in his otherwise cautious gaze.  He took Alan’s hand, and before Alan could believe what was happening, Billy was kissing him.

It was so brief that Alan didn’t react in time to reciprocate.  Billy backed up a step, ducking his head a bit though his eyes never left Alan’s.  He was testing him- his own invitation was clear.

Alan accepted it.  He dropped the clothes he’d held, taking Billy’s face in his hands as they kissed with all the passion and longing of sixteen years apart.  Billy’s hands were firm against his body, grabbing at every inch of Alan he could reach with a hunger that Alan had never known before.  It took his breath away.  When their lips parted, Alan pressed his face to the side of Billy’s neck, kissing old, faded scars he’d never forgotten.

Billy shivered beneath the attention, his hands finding their way under Alan’s shirt.

“You look really good,” he breathed.  “I forgot to mention that.”

Alan wanted to tease him for stating the now-obvious opinion, but he couldn’t string the words together.  He worried for a moment that the alcohol was responsible for their situation, but he found himself more intoxicated by kissing Billy than by any amount of whiskey.

Billy pulled away just enough to quirk an eyebrow towards the bed.  Alan couldn’t have held back now if he’d wanted to.

~

The years had changed them both, but Alan remembered Billy’s body as if no time had passed at all.

Billy’s hat had landed upon the red bedside lamp, illuminating the room with only a dim, warm glow.  They lay side by side now, fingers intertwined as Alan kissed Billy’s shoulder.  He sat up a little, wondering whether the younger man had fallen asleep.  Billy hummed dazedly at the motion, giving his hand a squeeze.

Alan took a moment just to appreciate the sight of him.  He was close now to Alan’s own age when they’d first met.  After this, when despite Billy’s forwardness he’d been so patient and gentle, he was starting to make sense of that fact.

But looking at him now, Alan was forced to realize that Billy hadn’t changed so much as he’d wanted to believe.  His lust for life- and for Alan- was something Alan had previously mistaken as the result of youth and foolishness, but that was just Billy.  He knew what he wanted, and whenever he could, he took it.  Though just as confident as he’d ever been, he was no longer the brash young man who used to rip Alan’s clothes off the second the trailer’s door was closed.  Every action he took was deliberate and perfect, as if he’d spent the past sixteen years devising the ultimate plan to take Alan apart.

That theory lost traction when Billy sat up and began to put on his clothes.  Alan sat up behind him, laying a hand on his back.  Billy leaned away from him, picking up his socks.

“You don’t have to leave,” Alan whispered.

Billy’s voice was hollow.  “Easier now than later.”

Alan thought for a moment, but he’d already made up his mind.  “You don’t have to leave at all.”

Billy shook his head.  “Look, I shouldn’t have let my dick take over.  I didn’t mean to confuse you.”

Alan was confused, but not for the reason Billy seemed to think he was.  Wherever they stood currently, Billy shouldn’t be driving right now.  “We don’t have to- I can still sleep on the couch.  You’ve been drinking, and you were already exhausted when you got here.  It’s not safe.”

“Nothing’s safe anymore," Billy snapped over his shoulder, bringing the morbidity of the situation on the coast back to mind.

Was Billy so desperate to get away from him that he’d face genuine danger to do it?  “I know I’m very rusty,” Alan conceded, “but it can’t have been that bad, surely.”

Billy turned away again, but paused with one sock still in his hand.  “It wasn’t,” he muttered.  “It was…  It just makes this that much harder.”

“Look, I’m telling you that I don’t want you to leave,” Alan said bluntly.

Billy huffed, bunching up his sock only for it to slip and be slung a few feet away.  He sighed and leaned over his knees, hands clasped tight together.  “I came here to learn the truth, and, and make amends.  I didn’t come here to repeat history.”

That was the last thing Alan wanted.  He couldn’t live with the regret a second time.  “Can we talk about this?”

“We did talk- you made it clear how you felt.”

Alan suppressed the urge to laugh, unsure of its origin.  “I thought I did.  I wouldn’t have- Billy, we just -”

“That was hormones taking over,” Billy deflected.  “We got carried away.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Billy stood up to pull his pants on.  “You told me you still believed you ‘shouldn’t have let it happen at all,’ and I ignored it- that’s my bad, Alan.”

“You and your selective hearing,” Alan complained.  “I said I couldn’t help thinking that, Billy- I thought this was you giving me the chance to-”

“You have my number now- you can call me if you ever need to.  Or if you learn anything about-”  Billy shrugged.  “If you hear anything I’d like to know.  I’d appreciate it.  If you have the courage to call me.”

He turned, reaching back for his shirt lying on the bed.  In a burst of playfulness that only Billy could incite, Alan snatched it out of reach, grinning despite himself.  Billy sighed, but couldn’t hide a small smile.  Alan touched his arm gently, relieved when it brought Billy to sit down next to him.

“I’m not letting you go that easy this time.”

Billy covered Alan’s hand with his own, staring down at it.  “What’s different about this time?  You believe I can decide who I want now?”

“Yes- because I didn’t believe it before.  I should have trusted you with your own heart- not thrown it back at you.  I’ll always regret that.”

Billy nodded.  “I will too.”

“I hoped we could still be friends, at least, whether that would have been enough for us or not."

“...But I left.  And you never called.”

“I’m sorry.”  However much he meant them, the words remained empty.

“We coulda been great together, Alan,” Billy said wistfully.

“We still can be.  I’ve got a few good years left in me.”

The attempted joke went over worse than the apology.  Billy’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion when they met Alan’s.  “Why do you always do that?”

Alan wouldn’t dance around the truth any more.  “It isn’t that I’m not afraid of death, or mortality, Billy.  It’s just easier to make light of those fears than to admit to them.  But I understand how much it bothers you.  I can stop.”

“You didn’t before.”

“...I guess I thought if I talked about it enough, you’d agree with me that I was too old for you.  I want the chance to do what I should’ve done then.”

“Which is?”

Alan shifted closer, his free arm going around Billy’s drooping shoulders.  “To just love you.  To let that be enough.”

Billy studied his face, now mere inches from his own.  “That’s all I ever wanted from you,” he whispered.

“Will you let me apologize one more time?”

“...Okay.”

Alan pressed a tender kiss to his lips.  “I’m sorry, Billy.  And from here on out, I don’t plan on needing to apologize anymore.  Except maybe, if you’re lucky, about my, um, less than organized living space.”

The smile that graced Billy’s face quickly twisted in pain.  Alan pulled him close, unsurprised to feel warm tears fall upon his chest.

Billy clung to him as if he might disappear.  “I thought you didn’t want me,” he confessed between stifled sobs.

Alan kissed his head.  “Then you weren’t listening again.”

“I thought I was your mistake.”

“The only mistake I made was pushing you away.”

Billy sat up to wipe his eyes, sniffing a couple of times before speaking in a stronger voice.  “Are you sure?”

The world as they knew it had already ended.  The one thing Alan was certain of now was how he felt.  He held Billy’s face in his hands, wiping away remnants of tears.  “I love you.  I won’t let myself get in the way of that again.”

For the first time tonight, Billy’s face relaxed with genuine calm, though tears continued to escape his eyes.  He rubbed his nose before claiming Alan’s mouth in a fervent kiss.  They lay down again, Billy resting his head on Alan’s shoulder as Alan held him tight.

Alan pushed away the thought that they could have had this all along.  Maybe he’d been right, and Billy needed more time to explore and grow before he could settle down.  Whatever the case, they were together now, and that was good enough for him.

“I’m sorry, too,” Billy murmured.  “I didn’t let myself see how hard it actually was for you.  I thought I could make it go away.”

“We weren’t ready for each other,” Alan decided.  “And that’s okay.”

Billy nodded, going silent for a while.  Eventually, he sighed.  “Alan, how are we gonna make this work?”

Alan shrugged.  “You’re welcome to stay here with me.  If there’s ever another dig in my future, well.  I’d certainly appreciate your company.”

“I’m not your assistant anymore, Dr. Grant,” Billy teased.  “I have a job.  A really good job.”

“...You’re going back to California?”

“...I don’t know.  I’m hoping things will calm down after a while.  The dinosaurs will avoid the city, anyway, and- well, I don’t wanna lose my job.”

“I’m sure your superiors will understand if you’re gone until this… settles, somewhat.  We don’t have to talk about it right now.  I just want you to be safe, Billy.”

“I’ll be careful.  That’s something else I picked up over the years.  It’s just…”  Billy sat up on his elbow, fingers tracing Alan’s bearded chin.  “Long distance really sucks.”

“I have a lot of practice when it comes to missing you,” Alan replied.  “I’ll survive that part.  It’s the worry that might do me in.”

Billy nodded in thought.  “It’s not that much of a change.  Making you worry was kind of a hobby of mine.”

“Oh, I remember.”

“It wasn’t that I wanted to.  We’ve just always been in different worlds, to some degree.”

Alan used to focus on that.  So much that he could sometimes ignore everything else.  “We have a lot in common too.”

Billy half-smiled.  “We do share a mutual interest in dinosaurs.”

“And a mutual experience with them,” Alan pointed out.

“We’re both pretty gray at this point.”  Billy chuckled.  “Don’t tell anyone I’ve been dyeing my hair.”

Alan smirked.  “Not a soul.  I’m just relieved to hear that you, Dr. Brennen, are not, in fact, perfect.”

“Yeah, don’t tell anyone that either.”

“It’ll be our secret.”

Billy looked around the dim room with heavy eyes.

“You need to sleep,” Alan said.

“Not until I can think of something else.  … Is there anything else?”

“Well, we both like our coffee black.”

“Hot enough to scorch the sun.”

“Even in the desert.”

“So we’re both insane.”  Billy snorted, his gaze dropping to Alan’s chest as he ran his fingers over it. “...I still get nightmares.”

“Me too.”

“...I enjoy teasing you, but I’m not sure you ever liked that.”

“...I missed it.  So I guess that’s a ‘yes.’”

Billy’s eyes drifted closed before he snapped awake and sat up.

“You really ought to go to sleep.”

“I’m fine.  I’ve got my… third wind now.”

Alan narrowed his eyes in response to that blatant lie.

“Look, I’m finally enjoying myself for the first time in what feels like a week.”

“... Was the sex that b-”

“No, no, apart from that.”  Billy patted his chest in reassurance.  “I’m just… really enjoying this.”

Alan sat up to kiss him, the lure of sleep not quite as strong as the lure of Billy.  “There’ll be more of this in the morning.”

“More sex too, I hope.”

Alan tried unsuccessfully to kiss the mischievous smile off his face.  Billy reached for his shirt again, pulling it over Alan’s head.

“What are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Billy urged, all but pulling Alan’s arms through on his own.  He smoothed the Muse t-shirt over Alan’s chest, grinning sleepily.

Alan looked down at himself, shaking his head in affectionate exasperation.  “It’s not exactly my style.”

“Well, it’s not plaid, denim or khaki.  Not that I have anything against all that, but… you look really cute like this.”

"I’m too old to be ‘cute,’” Alan said, and then- remembering- he sighed at himself.

Billy lifted his chin, gazing into Alan’s eyes as if he could chase away any thoughts he didn’t approve of through sheer force of will.  The longer he stared, the more Alan believed that he could.

Billy tilted his head with a gleam in his eye.  “If I say that you’re cute, then you’re cute, and you’re gonna have to deal with that.”  He lifted his hat from the bedside lamp and set it carefully on Alan’s head, dipping the front down just a bit.  “Do you think you can manage, Alan?”

Alan still couldn’t believe that he deserved this, and maybe he never would, but he’d fight tooth and nail before he lost it again.  He pushed the hat back enough so he could kiss Billy once more and raised an eyebrow playfully.  “I’m sure I’ll find a way.”