Summary: Set during the unseen, therefore fictitious, night before they leave for Isla Sorna, Paul Kirby stumbles upon something he didn't bargain

  A Stolen Moment

By K9


You know, I never meant to spy on anyone. It was an accident that I saw them.

I was so eager to leave, to go looking for my boy that I simply couldn't sleep.

I'd hated having to lie to Dr Grant, the way my wife and I had, but finding Eric was the most important thing in the world to us.

I'd stepped out into the grounds of the motel we were spending the night in, to have a cigarette. Funny really, since I don't smoke, and never have.

I had to *do* something; the nervous energy raced through my veins; I just wanted us to hurry up, and go.

All I could think of was my boy, out there, maybe even alone... with those monsters, and tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.

Anyway, I was sitting on a low wall, overlooking nothing but dust for miles, when I heard voices. The first was a young voice, full of joy and enthusiasm. It took me a moment to realize that it was the young man traveling with Dr Grant, Billy Brennan I thought his name was. I heard him laughing hard, and more curiosity than I thought I had, made me walk to the corner of the building, and look.

Two figures, outlined in the moonlight, were sitting on an ancient porch bench. The younger man was curled up, still laughing, holding his sides with the hurt from the humorous exchange they'd obviously just had.

"It's not funny!" I suddenly heard Dr Grant say, but Billy merely laughed harder.

"You'll be old someday, my boy!" Grant growled, but his words were laced with what could only be described as affection.

"Jeezus, Alan, when are you going to get off this age trip?" Billy responded, punching lightly at his mentor's arm.

"When you catch up with me," Grant replied with a smile.

I couldn't help myself; I found I was smiling with them. Their comfortable familiarity was almost infectious. I'd already speculated that they must have a pretty special relationship, when Billy had ordered lunch for Grant at our first meeting. My wife is the only person who does that for me. Oh, and occasionally Eric, when I'm being indecisive, and he wants to get to the ball game before kick off.

So, I'd considered that they must be close, almost like father and son, to be this at ease in each others company.

Then it happened.

I was about to turn away, and go back inside, when Billy stretched out his hand, and softly stroked the back of Grant's neck.

It was such a tender gesture, that I found myself holding my breath, and inexorably watching as they sat together in the darkness, clearly enjoying the closeness this quiet moment offered.

Feeling more and more like a voyeur, I couldn't help but look, as Billy drew closer.

When he finally leaned in, and kissed Alan Grant's face, I began to feel dizzy.

Grant merely smiled, and slid his hand onto the younger mans thigh, squeezing gently, and closing his eyes.

" taste great!" Billy mumbled, as he sucked on Grant's ear, pausing for a quick bite, which jerked the older mans eyes wide open.

"Hey, stop it!" Grant grumbled, "I don't want to go for breakfast in the morning with hickeys. It might be a little hard to explain."

"Mosquito's?" Billy began to laugh again, but he slid his hand across Grant's chest, opening a few buttons of his shirt with practiced ease, and slipping his fingers inside.

"Just one *big* mosquito, with an unnaturally enthusiastic libido, and roving hands!" Grant pretended to complain, but he was grinning, and leaning into the caress.

Ignoring the frankly half-hearted pleas, Billy began to suck, and bite at the older mans neck. His hand was moving in small, circular movements around Grant's nipple, almost pushing the shirt off one shoulder.

Now, you have to understand one thing. I'm a totally heterosexual man, I've never even considered doing to other men, what they were doing at this moment. That said, I couldn't help but find the scene before me surprisingly erotic.

Suddenly, Grant turned his head, and lifted his hand to Billy's cheek.

"This is a little public, Billy, behave!" he chided lightly, as a stern father would scold his wayward son.

A smiling face beamed back at him, "You old stick-in-the-mud," Billy laughed, "Why don't you just kiss me, and put me out of my misery?"

I watched, spellbound, as Grant slowly touched his lips against Billy's. The younger man melted against him. So needy, and longing, he clung to Grant like a drowning man.

Alan Grant suddenly engulfed Billy in his arms, pulling him onto his lap. He was kissing him so hard now, that he was cradling Billy's head with his hand, to counter the force of the kiss.

I couldn't stop looking, as Billy's hips began to thrust against Grant wantonly, and that low, desperate, male groan that signals the height of desire, echoed through the night.

"Oh Alan," Billy's voice was dry, and rasping as Grant broke the kiss, "I love you."

Grant ran his fingers through Billy's hair, lovingly stroking it back into place.

"I love you too," he whispered.

I prayed that I hadn't made a sound, but I could hear my own heart thrumming in my ears. I was breathless, and my throat was dry.

My strict Episcopalian upbringing told me I should be disgusted at the sight I'd just witnessed.

Men shouldn't feel that way about each other. They *couldn't* love another man the way I loved my wife....could they?

I stole a last glance, and found the two men wrapped in an embrace. Billy's legs entwined around Grant, who gently stroked a hand down the young mans back, softly murmuring something into his ear. Eyes closed, they were both lost in their own desires.

I turned, and tried to creep away as quietly as I could. Now I felt like a pervert, a 'peeping Tom' intruding on something that was beautiful, and ultimately private.

Love like that can't be wrong.

But, like I said, I never *meant* to spy on them, it was just an accident.

The End