FIC: Fall on Your Knees (Jurassic World, Claire Dearing/Owen Grady, R)
TITLE: Fall on Your Knees
RATING: R
FANDOM: Jurassic World
PAIRING: Claire Dearing/Owen Grady
SUMMARY: “Christmas is the worst time of year for us,” Claire said.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Written for flatlanddan’s 2015 yuletide. Thanks so much to Carla for the beta.
The halls were decked. It turned out that real holly was poisonous, so events used the fake stuff. It was everywhere. Tiny twinkle lights wrapped around every light pole; they were bent into dinosaur shapes in the window of every shop. And fake snow. Claire thought it was ridiculous; it was Costa Rica for Christ’s sake, but the focus groups liked snow, so little puffs of cotton batting decorated every windowsill. The herbivores in the petting zoo were eating fruit cake; she had heard that the raptors were hunting turkeys.
“Christmas is the worst time of year for us,” Claire said, walking and talking with a seventy-year-old member of the board who couldn’t seem to get his eyes above her décolletage. “People want to stay home with their families; everyone’s strapped for cash. But we have living assets; we can’t just pop off for the holidays and leave them alone to die. The cost of keeping staff on during Christmas is less than the cost of replacing a single asset, and that, to answer your question, Mr. Klein, is why we stay open 365 days of the year.”
Klein addressed her chest. “I hear you’re having a Christmas party tonight?”
Claire forced a smile. “Yes. Employee morale is a constant concern. Not that we have problems; employee turnover is somewhere in the teens. But Mr. Masrani and I want to ensure that everyone at Jurassic World has an excellent experience.”
“So, the party?” Klein asked. “Will you be there? Or will you be going home?”
“I’ll be there,” Claire said.
***
Claire studied her reflection in the full-length mirror in her apartment while she listened to her sister’s voicemail message. Wine-colored, body hugging silk dress; glittery sand-gold heels; a simple, gold necklace. Hair perfect, makeup subtle but sexy.
The voicemail message ended, and the phone beeped.
“Hi, Karen,” she said. “It’s me. Merry Christmas! I hope you got the presents I sent you and the boys. So sorry I couldn’t make it again this year, but the holidays are crazy for me. Love you!”
Claire hung up the phone. She looked in the mirror again, but all she felt was hollow. She took a deep breath, forced a smile, and left for the company Christmas party.
***
Claire smiled her way through the crowd with a flute of champagne. The bubbles tickled her nose, but it was important to look festive, like she was having fun.
“I like your dress, Claire,” Lowery said, cornering her by the hor d’oeuvres. “It makes you look, you know, kind of scary, but also-”
Claire caught Grady out of the corner of her eyes.
“Thanks, Lowery,” she said, handing him her champagne and leaving him alone with the pigs in a blanket.
“Is that really what you’re wearing?” Claire demanded.
Grady smiled. “Come on, I put on khakis for this. Anyway, we can’t all look ready for the red carpet.”
Claire lowered her eyes, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you really think-? Never mind.”
Grady took a step toward her, and she raised her eyes.
“You look beautiful, Claire,” he said.
In that moment, Claire felt the chatter and twinkling lights of the party fade away, like a spotlight was on the two of them.
Claire searched Grady’s face. “Do you want to get out of here?”
***
I never do anything like this, she thought of telling him, but that would make her sound naive, and the last thing she needed was Grady having one up on her. But he did. He did already; she could look in his eyes and see he wasn’t hungry, needing the same way she was. It wasn’t fair, but you took what you could in this life and that was it.
Grady was kind enough not to attempt small talk in the elevator. They came to her apartment and she fumbled with the keys, an almost imperceptible shake of the hands, but somehow he saw it, and took the keys from her, held the door for her.
“Nice place,” Grady said, even though it was dark, and Claire couldn’t tell whether he was serious.
Claire turned to him, gently grasped the fabric of the Oxford he’d put on just for the party they were missing. She leaned in and waited for him to kiss her.
Grady took her face in his hands. He closed the distance between them, kissed her, a touch gentler than Claire would have thought possible of him. Claire rested her hands on his chest, felt his heartbeat echo in her palms. Grady’s hands on her bare shoulders, finding the place between her shoulder blades, running down her spine. Settling on her hips for a moment before she was in his arms, lifted up, her shoes falling to the floor as she wrapped her legs around him. Her hands in his hair, her palm wrapping around the nape of his neck, and suddenly Grady was laying her down on her bed, laying her down beneath him.
Grady’s hands on her legs as he pushed up the skirt of her dress. He knelt at the edge of the bed, slipped her panties off her. She threaded her fingers through his hair as he brought his mouth to her private flesh. Claire closed her eyes; she felt a warmth spreading out from her breastbone, like she really had drunk that champagne. Her head swam, but Grady was touching her, and that kept her tethered to the moment. Everything was concrete, undeniable.
Claire shivered, her skin tingling, and Grady pulled himself up, his body covering her, and kissed her, his hands in her hair. Claire opened her eyes and looked at him; she felt she had never seen another person in such away, so present and real.
He didn’t ask, but Claire heard herself say yes. She unthreaded the buttons of his shirt, pushed it from his shoulders, unwrapping him.
Claire was surprised, grateful, to find him a tender man. Grady kept his eyes on her, kissed her face. His hands cradled her rib cage, and her legs wrapped around him as he filled her. He was gentle, and she was hungry, but she felt the pain in the hollow pit of her stomach, the unbearable emptiness, begin to dissipate.
“Yes,” she said again, and they lay together as the tension drained away, until there was just stillness and warmth.
Claire traced constellations with her fingertips onto Grady’s bare shoulders. She closed her eyes and saw Christmas morning.