#alan grant reader insert

The failure of Jurassic Park was a turning point. Not just in terms of scientific advancement and bioengineering ambition, but in your relationship with Alan Grant as well.

When he returned from Isla Nublar, it was obvious that he’d never be quite the same. Sure he went right back to his usual quiet, studious self and spent most of his days in the dirt or at his desk but something was still...off. He said very little, showed minuscule interest in anything other than work, and made it a point to avoid lectures as often as possible. That tiny social battery that made it difficult for him to maintain relationships prior to the overseas disaster had only grown smaller. He grew distant from friends and family. His weekly phone calls with Dr. Sattler turned to monthly chats before they stopped altogether. Day by day, the world started to see less and less of the infamous Dinosaur Man.

You, however, only saw him more.

As the main site admin and manager of his dig crew, you spent more time collaborating with Alan than anyone. If there was ever a change in schedule, a need for funding, or even just a print out of the latest field publications, you were the one he went to. It was a partnership that had been established long before the events on Isla Nublar; he trusted you wholeheartedly to keep him and his team afloat.

After he returned from Jurassic Park, you found yourself all but shadowed by him. Whether it was lingering in your trailer after a meeting or asking if you would join him for lunch, you became closer to him than ever. He started to brew you coffee in the mornings and made it a point to stop by your desk whenever he could, even if it was just to ask how things were going on the flyers for grad student outreach programs. Things he had no real need to be familiar with became topics of conversations that he initiated.

A few months of this subtle orbiting passed before you finally found the courage to broach the subject. Confronting Alan Grant was like trying to wrangle a startled deer: either he was going to spring from your grasp and disappear into the wilderness or he was going freeze up and retreat inward. You didn’t want to frighten him or make him feel like he’d done something wrong but you needed to understand what he was dealing with.

“Alan?”

“Hm?”

“What’s going on with you?” You asked one morning when he decided to bring his newest research project into your work trailer rather than his own tent.

Brow furrowed, he looked up from his hoard of books and notes. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“What’s going on with you emotionally, I mean. This past week, you’ve spent more time in here with me than out in the field with the crew. Don’t get me wrong, I love the company. I do. I just don’t understand why you’d rather listen to me vent about website organization than get your hands dirty.”

He blinked. The way he seemed puzzled by your words made it clear that he wasn’t even aware of this shift. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that his sudden desire to be around someone that often was so out of the ordinary.

“Oh. I don’t know. I guess it’s just become a bit of a habit.”

“Don’t the constant phone calls and clacking keyboard sounds annoy you?”

“Not really.”

“You actually enjoy being around me?”

“I do. Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

You chuckled and leaned back in your chair. “Not any specifics I can think of. I’m just surprised you’d even wanna hang around. It’s not exactly exciting work,” you said, “Plus, you don’t normally like spending time with people as it is.”

He pondered your observation. It’s true. Alan was far cry from being a socialite. Until he returned from Isla Nublar, every meal and break had been taken in the privacy of his own tent. If any of the team members threw a get together to celebrate a birthday or anniversary, he would only have one beer before retiring for the evening. Bars were a no-go. Dating wasn’t even an afterthought. No one in the world was more content flying solo than him.

“There’s something comforting about you. I can’t put my finger on it but I just…I feel safe here.”

“Safe from what?”

“From my thoughts. When I’m alone, it’s hard not to think about Jurassic Park. I’ll hear the crickets outside and remember the forests on the island. A warm breeze will blow at just the right angle and make my skin crawl because it feels exactly like the muggy breath of the Tyrannosaur. Tools will hit stone with a soft click and sound just like the raptors’ claws tapping the floor outside my door…”

He slammed his eyes closed, immediately trying to shake the image from his mind. Both his jaw and his fist clenched as he let out a shaky exhale. Even from across the room you could see a shudder roll through his body.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring all that up…”

“It’s alright,” he reassured you with a tight smile, “It can’t be helped. Some nightmares choose to follow you when you wake up. But having you around…It makes it easier to leave them on the pillow.”

Something tugged at your heartstrings. It was impossible to overlook the power of his words and the implications of what they meant. You had become Alan’s comfort person. He was clinging to every opportunity to be around you because your presence kept him grounded to reality. Nightmares and flashbacks didn’t plague his mind when he was by your side. Instead he was able to focus on the things in life that brought him peace and happiness.

While he didn’t say it with words, it was clear to you that he was revealing something else to you in that moment: he loved you. Your connection with him had grown from a respectful, professional relationship into something new and beautiful. He wanted to know your thoughts and opinions on certain things not because he needed a second opinion but because they actually mattered to him. He wanted to truly know you, to understand the things that made you, well, you.

You wanted to reply and tell him how glad you were to know that you could help him grow past the trauma but, before you could even gather your thoughts into a concise remark, the door to your trailer opened. One of the bright-eyed grad students poked his head in. He scanned your desk briefly until movement at the table in the corner drew his attention.

“Ah, Dr. Grant! We’ve been looking all over for you,” the student said excitedly, “We’ve found something you’ll wanna see.”

“What is it?”

“Utahraptor eggs. Billy’s still working on digging them out but we’re pretty sure we’ve got have almost half a dozen fossilized together.”

There was a gleam in Alan’s eye. It was that look of childish glee that you only saw when he made a particularly good find or got lost in a presentation about raptor social behaviors. Little moments like those made you smile, made you forget just how badly Jurassic Park had shaken him up. Fossils still held the innocence of discovery and theory. They gave him the reigns to imagine the world before his own.

“Tell Billy to put the brush down,” he said as he hurriedly started closing up the books in front of him, “I want to be there for the final reveal.”

“You got it.”

The grad student slipped outside once again. You watched as Alan fumbled with his paperwork and publications, a laugh vibrating in your chest when he started mumbling under his breath.

“Alan, just leave it there. I’ll take care of it.”

“I don’t want to leave you with a mess. I’ve already intruded on your space enough.”

You rose from your desk and walked over to him. Smiling, you grabbed the books already in his arms.

“Relax,” you said softly as you placed them back on the table, “I don’t mind holding onto your stuff for a while.”

Once your hands were free again, you reached up to fix the collar of his shirt. While your observational skills were far from those of a renowned detective or psychiatrist, you immediately noted a change in his demeanor when your fingers grabbed onto his shirt. His breath caught in his throat. His jaw tightened. His posture became straighter, more restrained. Every muscle in his body seemed to freeze while his eyes danced across your face.

It was the closest you’d every really gotten to him before. With the requirements of the job and the tight spaces in which you often had to work, it was impossible not to come into contact with one another from time to time. Shoulders bumped every now and then, hands brushed against each other during a handoff of notes or morning coffee. Every touch was fleeting and unintentional. This, however, was all your choice. You were placing yourself in his space with purpose and, if you were being honest with yourself, pure intimacy.

“There. Much better.”

He blinked, eyelashes fluttering over his cheek when the sound of your voice pulled him out of his daze. His Adam’s apple bobbed. Whatever air he had instinctively been holding at the back of his throat came out in a quiet exhale and the taut muscles in his shoulders loosened.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, “For that. And for watching over my work.”

“You’re welcome. Now go before Billy gets impatient and finishes the dig himself.”

A small chuckle rumbled in his throat. “He keeps us all on our toes, doesn’t he?”

The two of you exchanged glances, gentle smiles painted across both of your faces and heavy air of unspoken attraction between you. Then, with a small nod of farewell, he stepped out of the trailer into the afternoon sun.

***

The next morning, the new daily routine kicked right back in. You showered, dressed, and checked in with all of the team members before returning to the office trailer. Sure enough, Alan was there with a fresh pot of coffee in hand.

“Morning,” he greeted as he started pouring the scorching beverage into your favorite mug.

“Good morning to you too. Sleep well?”

“As well as any man can after spending several hours in the heat arguing with Billy Brennan. I don’t know where he developed that attitude. He’s even more stubborn now than the day we hired him.”

You sat down at the table where you had organized his work from yesterday into a neat pile.

“He’s passionate about field work and far more devoted to his studies than cultivating a social life. Sounds like someone I know,” you said playfully.

Grabbing the mugs of coffee from the counter, he walked over to join you. He placed your cup in front of you before taking his seat directly across the table. An amused smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe he is learning something from me after all.”

The next half hour or so was spent discussing the previous day’s find. The Utahraptor eggs had been uncovered in stellar condition. A few had been cracked and tarnished by millions of years worth of sediment but, overall, it was an ideal discovery worthy of academically supported display. As much as Alan enjoyed taunting Billy for his sub-par professional personality, the boy had done an exceptional job leading the dig.

After enjoying a second cup of coffee each, the subject shifted from work to personal dealings. He inquired about your upcoming trip home to visit family and told you about his plans to spend a few weeks in Colorado to work on his next book. Bit by bit, he was continuing to build upon your relationship by letting you venture deeper into the jungles of his heart.

“What are you doing tonight?”

The question caught you completely by surprise. There wasn’t any real sexual implication behind it but it shocked you nonetheless simply because he was so explicitly looking to spend time with you.

“Nothing really,” you replied, “I’m ahead on upcoming schedules and fundraiser planning so my evenings are pretty free.”

“Good. I’m happy to hear it. I, uh—“ He cleared his throat, shifting nervously in his seat. “I was planning on driving up the mountain to watch the meteor showers tonight if you want to join me. The skies are supposed to be very clear and the weather’s been quite mild so I thought maybe we could take the truck and put some blankets in the bed to lay on. Nothing too extravagant just—“

“I’d love to.”

He perked up. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Perfect,” he sighed in relief, “That’s…Great. I’ll, um…Is five alright? To leave, I mean.”

“Five works for me.”

A boyish smile curled at his lips. “Five it is.”

***

The sun had just set beyond the horizon when the truck finally parked on a cliffside overlooking the drylands where your team was camped out for the next few weeks. Not a cloud obscured your view of the beautiful sky. Pastel pinks and oranges blended with baby blues and lush violets as the afternoon gave way to the night.

It only took a few minutes to set up your little star-gazing nest in the bed of the truck. Pillows and blankets were placed neatly on top of a thick quilt. A cooler of drinks and snacks sat at the head of your open-air hovel with an old lantern sitting on its lid to provide a soft light source other than the moon and stars. It was a humble but wholesome set up.

By the time you were finished, the last bit of daylight was starting to fade from the sky. You both climbed up the hitch to settle amongst to blankets. You laid down first; he followed shortly after, leaving a small gap between you out of courtesy. Even still you felt yourself warmed by the proximity of his body.

The showers began not long after darkness took control of the horizon. Little balls of light gleamed and danced across the sky like celestial teardrops. You watched them with childish glee, pointing skyward every time you saw a particularly beautiful ribbon of glittering luminescence. He would laugh softly and occasionally direct your attention to certain constellations or planets.

Like magnets slowly being pulled toward one another, your bodies inched closer and closer until your shoulders were pressed together and the back of your hand was brushing his forearm. The more time passed, the more you became aware of his wandering gaze. He was spending just as much time looking at you as he was looking at the stars. There was an aura of fascination surrounding him, as if watching you were as satisfying as any vision the constellations could conjure.

As odd as it was to have someone stare at you like that, you didn’t feel uncomfortable by any means. In fact, it made you feel wonderful. It made you feel wanted and made you realize that he was seeing you in ways that maybe he didn’t even expect or understand.

Turning your head to the side just enough to meet his gaze, you brushed the back of your fingers along the smooth skin just below his wrist. His eyebrows twitched upward slightly at the contact and his eyes scanned your face in search of answers to a question only he could hear. A soft breath ghosted past his lips.

Moving cautiously, he hooked his arm beneath yours and tangled both of your hands together. His fingers melded between yours while his thumb experimentally stroked your skin. A small fire sparked to life in your chest, warming every inch of your body. Holding hands was such a simple act of affection but coming from Alan Grant, it spoke louder and more poetically than any love song ever written.

“I thought we came all this way to watch the meteor shower not have you stare at me.”

He blushed at the comment, his throat clearing roughly before he replied, “Sorry. I’m not trying to be rude. I just…The way your eyes reflect the stars…They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. It’s very hard to look away.”

Your heart leaped in your chest. It was the first time he’d ever really talked about you like that. Over the past few months, he’d occasionally make comments praising your outfit or pointing out your new haircut but he never made a direct remark about your looks. Never before had he called you beautiful.

“I hope I’m not being too forward,” he hurriedly added, “If I’m making you uncomfortable or involuntarily pressuring you into something you don’t want, please tell me. It’s been a long time and I’m not very good at this kind of stuff as it is so don’t be afraid to—“

You cut him off. “Alan, relax. You’re not being rude or making me uncomfortable, I promise.”

“Okay good. The last thing I want is to push you away before I’ve even gotten the chance to get close to you.”

“Can I ask you something? And I need you to be completely honest with me. Sugar-coating the answer is only going to make things complicated.”

“Of course.”

“Do you want to go out with me?”

“Are you asking if I’m interested in dating?”

“Yeah, I am. Because if you are, I want to continue whatever this is,” you said as you nodded toward your intertwined hands, “But if you’re just looking for something physical, I don’t think this is going to work...”

“God, no, I could never do something like that. Especially not with you. You’re too important.”

He sighed, taking a moment to study your face as he tried to shuffle through his thoughts.

“I want to be with you any way I can,” he continued, “If that translates to dating in whatever guide to modern romance people subscribe to these days, then yes, I want that.”

You smiled and squeezed his hand. “Then we’re on the same page.”

“Can I ask you something in return?”

“Absolutely.”

“It’s going to sound silly and I’m begging you not to taunt me when I pose the question, but I have to ask it before I do something stupid.”

“What is it?”

“Is it too soon to kiss you?” He asked shyly, “I don’t want to rush this or make you feel like that’s all I’m after but I just…I can’t stop thinking about what your lips would feel like against mine.”

The innocence of the question made it very difficult to get lost in the excitement that came with knowing what he wanted. It was a genuine inquiry, one that reminded you just how old fashioned he was. He gave you complete control, granting you the ability to set the pace and establish boundaries so that he could keep himself in check. Clearly it had been a very long time since he’d last pursued someone like this.

“No, it’s not to soon. I’d actually like to. Hell, I’d love to kiss you.”

His eyes flicked down to your lips. Then, with the hesitation of a high schooler going in for their very first kiss, he leaned over to ghost his mouth over yours. You kissed back. It was a slow dance of lips and tongue, one driven by child-like curiosity and immeasurable tenderness. Neither of you wanted to push too far or ask for something that the other wasn’t ready to give. Instead, you allowed yourself to completely soak yourself in his affection.

The stars overhead were practically forgotten. You didn’t care about the meteor showers or the constellations that hovered in the sky. All you wanted to see and feel and taste was Alan. With his hand wrapped around yours and his mouth capturing your lips in the gentlest of kisses, it was easy to say that it was one of, if not the most, romantic encounter of your life.

“That meet your expectations?” You murmured quietly when he finally pulled back.

“Exceeded them, actually.”

“Dammit, now I’m gonna feel like every kiss from now on is just gonna be a let down in comparison.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for any kiss to be a let down if it’s from you.”

“Y’know, for someone who really doesn’t like spending time with other people, you are shockingly romantic. I’m impressed.”

He let out a soft huff of laughter. “Spend years focusing on your career instead of pursuing lackluster relationships and you’ll turn yourself into a bargain bin romance novelist too.”

“Bargain bin? Sorry, but I’d happily pay full price for a kiss like that.”

“Just consider how lucky you are to have it for free,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

“I thought you didn’t believe in luck.”

“I don’t. But maybe there’s something else at play. I hate for the thought to even cross my mind but chaos theory does help connect dots otherwise left untouched…Jokes aside, please don’t ever tell Ian Malcolm I said that or it’ll go right to his head. It’s already big enough.”

“And make him think you actually like him enough to reminisce about his leather-bound ass?” You said playfully, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Another hour passed before exhaustion came to sink its teeth into both of you. Even when it became clear that sleep was just on the other side of the curtain, neither of you had any intention of separating. Instead, you grew closer. Your head came to rest upon his shoulder and your arm draped over his torso. A blanket was pulled over your bodies to shield you from the gentle evening breeze.

“Dr. Grant?”

Alan pried himself away from the paperwork in front of him and turned around. His mouth had just begun to open and form around the question, “how can I help you”, when his jaw went slack and his heart stilled in his chest. His eyes widened.

“I’ll be damned…”

The last thing Alan Grant ever expected when he rolled out of bed to return to the dig that morning was to have you standing in the entryway of his work tent. And yet, there you were, body framed beautifully by the desert and a gentle smile painted across your face. It was so surreal, so unbelievable that, for the briefest moment, he considered the possibility that the blistering heat had finally gotten to him.

But the soft chuckle that came from your throat reassured him that this was no hallucination. The one person he had desperately tried to leave in the past without considering the damage it would inflict on his own heart had actually returned. The one that he let get away out of sheer doubt and fear had found their way back like salmon returning to their breeding grounds upstream.

“Surprised to see me?” You asked with a slight tilt of the head.

A huff of laughter escaped his throat. “Is it that obvious?”

“I’m sorry, I probably should have called or at least sent your team an email. Hell, I kind of just barged my way in here.”

“It’s fine, really. I just…”

He trailed off for a moment, soaking in the image and the sensation of seeing you standing before him again. It had been years since he last saw you and yet it looked as if time had barely grazed its fingers over your skin. You were just as gorgeous as the day he’d met you, your smile still as disarming as the first time he watched it grace your lips. If there was ever going to be a textbook image to accompany the phrase, “some things never change”, it would have to be you.

“I never thought I would be so lucky as to see you again,” he admitted.

Alan straightened as you crossed the space between you. Each step you took seemed to trigger a thrum in his chest. The closer you got, the harder his heart beat until suddenly your arms were around his torso and the silly little fist-sized organ behind his sternum ceased to function altogether. His breath caught in his throat.

“I’ve missed you too,” you murmured, breath tickling the skin above his collar.

His hands hovered behind your back for the briefest moment as he debated his right to touch. You were the most delicate and beloved thing in his life, more fragile and worthy of care than even the oldest of fossils. If he ever miscalculated the strength of his words or the placement of his hands and shattered the bone of your trust, he would never be able to forgive himself.

But this momentary embrace was something he couldn’t pass up just because he was afraid. He’d been thinking about you for years, wondering if he had done the wrong thing by swallowing his emotions and burying himself in his work. So much time had passed but still you lingered in his mind like the scent of a candle long since burnt down to the wick.

His hands found their place on your back, one between your shoulder blades and the other on the small of your back. With a soft exhale, he pulled you closer. Some nights he had dreamed of holding you and every single one of those dream had soothed the ache in his chest just enough to make it through another day. But this…this was so much more. This was like coming home.

***

That night, the two of you went out to dinner. Years of catch up were crammed into one evening and, by the end of the meal, it felt as if he had pieced together the entire puzzle that was the mystery of your life without him. And God was he proud of how far you’d come.

The last time he’d seen you, you were a bright eyed grad student determined to know everything there was to learn about theropods. You attended every one of his lectures at the local university, engaged in every discussion group he headed, and constantly made it a point to go out of your way to see him. Since then you had taken everything you learned from him and your studies and applied it to your own teaching. You were now a full-blown tenured professor teaching the ins and outs of theropod behaviors and biology just like your mentor had taught you. He had sworn back when you were exchanging theories in crowded college libraries that there was nothing that could make him adore you more. Hearing about your successes like this, however, he quickly realized he was dead wrong. You had only grown more perfect in your time apart.

“What’s that look for?”

Alan wasn’t even aware that he was staring until you spoke. He sat up tall in his chair, grip tightening around the beer bottle in his hand. He cleared his throat.

“What look?”

“The one where it seems like you have so much you want to say but you can’t find the words,” you replied. “Or maybe you just don’t want to find them.”

You could have stripped him down to his briefs and thrown him in the middle of Times Square on a Friday night and he would have felt less exposed than he did in that moment. Back then you always knew when something was off. You saw through his masks and forced him to admit when he was burnt out or struggling with the countless things on his plate. The fact that you still peered straight through the facade after all this time was both terrifying and impressive.

He lowered his head slightly, forcing a tight-lipped smile. “I’m that easy to read?”

“Only if you know which pages to flip to.”

A silence fell over the table. Part of him wanted to turn tail and run, to bury every last bit of his emotions in the sands he had been digging through for the last two weeks. It would be the safest choice. If he ran, he eliminated every risk of making the wrong move and crossing a line so thin it was barely legible.

But the other part of him that wanted to kick open the gate and roam free in the wilds of emotion roared just as loud. He knew better than to think he could just forget you or ignore the way you made him feel. That approach had already failed miserably. Why make the same mistake and push away the one person that made him feel so seen? Was the idea of being vulnerable really so terrifying?

Before the two beasts in his head could finish their battle, the waiter returned with the check and your focus was drawn away from his warring stare of mind. He sighed at the momentary relief but couldn’t bring himself to celebrate. Time never left any stone untouched.

***

After dinner, he drove you back to your hotel. You had taken time out of a busy convention schedule to take a taxi out to the bluffs and say hello; the least he could do was make sure you made it back to your temporary homestead safe and sound. And hey, if part of the reason he wanted to do so was because he just couldn’t say goodbye so quickly, how were you to know?

“I had a great time tonight,” you said with a smile when the two of you reached your room, “I almost didn’t make my way out to the site today but I’m so glad I did.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Why almost?”

For the first time that night, he watched you hesitate. He could see that you were calculating, debating not only what you wanted to say but the words you absolutely didn’t dare speak. Maybe he wasn’t the only one with a mind at war.

“I don’t know. I just… I guess I was afraid to get in your way. I know how important these digs are to you and how exhausting it is after spending hours upon hours in the sun just to find a femur the size of tv remote.” You let out a small laugh that made his heart do a sloppy cartwheel in his chest before you continued, “The last thing I wanted was to bother you. Especially after everything you’ve been through. You deserve peace.”

He blinked at the statement. It caught him completely off guard, forcing his brain to run through a thousand different scenarios and questions before he even really understood what he was feeling. Of course he was happy to have returned to a reserved life where dinosaurs were just fragments of old bone rather than frightening monsters dead set on eating him for lunch. But did you truly believe that a life of peace was impossible with you in it? Had he actually made you think that he was better off without you?

“You could never be a bother,” he said quietly, “Hell, you could wake me up in the middle of the night just to tell me you’d hidden my toolbox somewhere in the desert and I’d probably be just fine with it.”

Another laugh slipped from your lips, drawing a soft smile to his face. Oh how he’d missed that laugh. If he could bottle up one sound and keep it on his shelf ‘til the end of time, it would have been just that. Nothing made him feel more special than being the one to draw even the briefest chuckle out of you.

For a moment, the two of you lingered there, soaking in the carefree sensation of sharing a laugh with one another again. Slowly that sensation dissipated and gave way to something else entirely. Alan watched as your smile faded. The cogs in your head were turning again, your eyes shifting away from him as you weighed the pros and cons of whatever decision had been placed at your feet. Finally, a daunting question broke the silence.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded. “Certainly.”

The pause that followed only made the tension worsen. He was terrified just being alone with you again. Knowing whatever was clawing at the back of your mind was complicated enough to tangle the webs of your own decision making skills made him consider whether or not he should have even made it back from Isla Sorna.

The grip you had on the strap of your messenger bag tightened as you searched for the words you had lost in the muddle of your thoughts.

“Did I do something wrong? Back in grad school, I mean. You and I were so close and you always seemed so happy to be around me. But before you left, before Isla Sorna, you just…” You let out a pained exhale. “Something changed that made you want to stay away from me and I never understood why. To this day, I still don’t. If I did something to hurt you, I really want to know.”

Alan’s breath caught in his throat. The agony behind your words and the sheer innocence in your eyes stung like a knife. You were hurting because of him and God did that make him want to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness.

“No, I promise you did nothing wrong. I…”

He hesitantly reached for you, fingers instinctively seeking the opportunity to touch you and bring you the reassurance you so desperately needed. But before they could even brush your arm, he forced his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

“I did what I thought was best for you and stepped away.”

“‘Stepped away?’ How could cutting me off possibly be what was best for me?” You shook your head. “Alan, you were the person I trusted most. I wanted nothing more than to be there for you. I started to believe in myself because you saw the best in me. Watching you fade out of my life only to disappear entirely and never look back…I got lucky that I could see that the version of myself you showed me was still there.”

“It’s difficult to explain but believe me, I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to stay.”

The response that came was so quick, so pointed that felt like he’d been shoved into a corner with a hunting rifle aimed at the space between his eyes. “Then tell me why you couldn’t.”

Alan’s heart was racing at this point. Fear and adrenaline were coursing through his veins like a dangerous drug. He had spent his entire life trying to stay in control of his emotions. But after pushing you away and spending years regretting the pain he had inflicted upon, it became increasingly clear that Ellie Sattler was right about control: control was just an illusion.

“I left because I wanted more,” he blurted before his brain could stop him from giving in to the illusion of control.

Something inside of him ruptured. The cracked, worn-down dam holding back his feelings finally gave way and every little sensation he had kept inside came gushing out in a great flood. He wanted to cry and scream and go quiet all at once.

Lowering his head, he continued, his voice barely above a murmur. “I was terrified of being around you because I didn’t want you to see through me. I thought that if you pulled back that curtain the way you always did and saw how I really felt, then you would want nothing to do with me anymore. There’s a reason that men like me don’t get to be with someone like you.”

The last thing he expected was for you to get closer. In fact, he had been anticipating something along the lines of a slap to the face or a disgusted scoff. But neither of those instances found their footing in his reality. Instead, he found himself being warmed by the proximity of your body and felt a soothing hand curl around the side of his neck.

He slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze. Up close once again, he got lost in the beauty of your eyes. Even when they were flooded with emotion, even when he was crippled by fear and doubt, he was drawn to them like moths to a flame. If it had been physically possible to drown himself in them, there was a good chance that’s how he’d choose to go out.

“And what kind of person do you think I am, Dr. Grant?”

Your voice was low, soft yet sultry. It danced across the space between you and slipped into his ear in a way that was so enticing he nearly shivered. Like a siren’s song, your words drew him back in from the violent waves of his emotions and he found himself focusing solely on the way your lips formed around each end every syllable in the sentence.

“The kind of person that, no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop thinking about them,” he murmured, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, “Someone so incredibly beautiful and inspiring that you’d do anything to make them see you…Someone you’d never stop loving until the day you were laid to rest…”

His words faded out completely as he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. Closing his eyes, he let himself melt into your touch. Words could never properly describe the way your kiss made him feel. It took his breath away and yet, at the same time, it was as if you were breathing life into his aching soul. He had spent so many years yearning for you and now that he had you in his grasp, he didn’t want to let go.

When he felt your mouth begin to move slowly against his, inviting him to go further and dig deeper into the hills of satisfaction, he brought one hand up to cup your cheek. The gentle movements of his mouth descended into something primal when your tongue brushed against his bottom lip. In an instant, his inhibitions broke free from their restraints and threw his body into a frenzy. He kissed you hard and deep, drawing a quiet moan from somewhere within your chest. The sound made his stomach twist with pleasure. What other noises could he procure from these lips? What ungodly sounds would he make himself if he continued to expel several years’ worth of yearning and regret?

“Alan…”

He swallowed his name like a starving animal and used his other hand to grapple at your waist and pull you in tighter. The weight and heat of your body pressed against his made him feel a sense of comfort he never thought possible. Here with you, he was safe. Here with you, he would never be afraid of the ancient demons that lurked in the forests of Isla Nublar and Isla Sorna. Here with you, he was home.

His hips instinctively ground against yours as he let himself drown in the taste of your lips. There was a desperation in his movements that he didn’t even know could exist. Too many years, too little touch. And now here you were giving him something he’d only ever dreamed of.

“Alan.”

The sternness of your voice drew him back to reality in an instant, his self-restraint kicking back into overdrive and forcing him to pull away. If his cheeks weren’t already flush from the heat of it all, there was no doubt that he was burning an embarrassing shade of red.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured breathlessly, “I shouldn’t have—“

You interjected immediately, hand holding his jaw in place so he couldn’t look away. “No. Don’t apologize. I want this. I want you,” you reassured him, “You really think I’d drive all the way out to the dunes just to see you if I didn’t want this?”

His brow raised slightly, eyes studying your face with the same scrutiny he placed into his work. When it came to fossils, he could read every crack and curve of bone like a book and piece together everything that ever happened to an animal that had died millions of years ago. If he could learn to read you the same way, he’d die a very happy man.

“I just don’t really need a hallway full of strangers to hear what we’re doing,” you added with a sheepish grin.

It was at that moment that his spacial awareness returned. While his enamored brain had convinced itself that the two of you were tucked away in your own little world, you were still standing outside the door to your hotel room with a seemingly endless line of identical doors stretching out in either direction.

“Oh.”

You chuckled and brought your other hand up to hold his scruffy jaw, pulling him down to give him a soft kiss. He accepted it without any hesitation.

“Will you stay with me tonight?”

The question reignited a spark in his stomach. His eyes scanned your face some more, almost hurriedly trying to verify that your expression coincided with the words he was hearing. Sure enough, the two pieces matched perfectly and any doubt he had of your intentions was wiped out by a meteor of certainty.

He nodded, ghosting his lips over yours again as he muttered, “Of course.”

Your hands fell from his face as you stepped back. While he had no trouble waiting patiently for you to find your key card and unlock the door, there was no way he could ignore the pounding in his chest. His heart was beating unbearably fast, hopped up on adrenaline and a whole concoction of other emotions he didn’t yet have the strength to unpack. There was still a tiny voice in his head trying to convince him that he didn’t deserve this. It wanted him to remember his fears, to consider the fact that the world was populated by millions of people who were better suited to stand at your side.