Chapter 10 #2
“You’ll be selected, Owens. There’s literally no question. Anders is already acting like you have been.”
Silence fell between them. Owens was staring up at the roof of the tent as though it were the only thing stopping him from drifting away.
He was quiet when he spoke again. “I think there’s something wrong.
I’ve been feeling a bit off, and I think I tweaked my ankle or my Achilles or something,” he admitted.
Jackson winced, he'd seen the slight limp in Elliot's gait, but if it was still bothering him, fuck.
It was a bad time to pick up an injury. “I need to do well in London to impress the rest of the panel, but if Anders suspects an injury and pulls me now…”
Jackson nodded. He understood. The decision didn’t sit with Anders alone, and if Owens didn’t make a good show of London, well, there were no guarantees in this sport. He didn’t like it, but he understood. “I’ll help you tape it and cover it up in the morning, before we head back,” he said.
“Thank you,” Owens whispered.
“But if it gets worse, you go to Anders yourself,” Jackson added.
He wasn’t letting him risk his whole career over this.
The idea of Owens not being there at the start line of every race, someone to push against, left Jackson cold.
He’d always been there. Jackson didn’t know what his career, his life would look like without Owens there playing anti-hero.
“Thank you for telling me, Elliot,” he whispered.
The blue glow of Elliot’s phone illuminated the dark of the tent as he checked the time, the glow highlighting the planes of his face in a way that should be criminal.
Jackson was momentarily transfixed by the way the light caught the hair hanging in front of Elliot’s eyes.
Elliot shook his head to dislodge the stray lock, stretching his neck and exposing the strong tendons in it.
Heat pooled in Jackson’s abdomen, but he ignored it.
Elliot needed a friend right now. A teammate.
“You’re a great runner, Elliot. I’d be proud to call you a teammate…or even a friend.”
Elliot sighed and dropped his phone. He angled himself towards Jackson, resting his head on a hand as his hair fell over his eyes in a cascade of silver.
“I’ve told you, Jennings, I don’t want to be your friend,” he whispered.
“What do you want, then?”
The sounds of the woods around them intensified as Jackson’s focus narrowed on Elliot’s soft exhale. He found himself frozen in place, his gaze glued to the deep storm clouds brewing in Elliot’s eyes.
Years from now, Jackson would think back on that moment and still be unable to say who had moved first, but somehow Elliot’s mouth ended up on his, and it was fucking glorious.
Elliot’s kiss was almost the polar opposite of everything he was in life. It was uncontrolled, wild, all teeth and tongue. It left Jackson gasping for air, and rock hard.
“You’re right—not friends. Not friends is a good plan,” Jackson mumbled.
Elliot smiled and pulled Jackson back down into another, slower, more cautious kiss, as though he were asking permission. Jackson moaned as he felt Elliot’s hardness brush against him. He wanted to pull him closer and feel every inch of his body against his.
“You’re a total arsehole sometimes, you know,” Jackson said as they parted for air. It came out far more tender than he was comfortable with.
“Yeah,” Elliot breathed, lips ghosting over his.
“I can’t fucking get you out of my head,” Jackson groaned, kissing him again.
He was more aggressive this time, his teeth clashing angrily against Elliot’s as he rolled on top of him, making the entire tent shudder.
“Haven’t been able to, ever. You’re always there, always pushing me, always that little bit ahead, driving me fucking crazy. ”
“Thought you said you never think about me.”
“I lied,” Jackson said as he kissed down Elliot’s jaw.
Elliot leaned in, turning Jackson’s head to his and capturing his lips with his teeth.
A sudden gust rattled the tent, but Jackson barely noticed.
All he could focus on was the uncontrolled warmth radiating from Elliot.
He pulled back, hesitating for a moment, and Jackson paused.
A buzzing sound echoed in the quiet, and Elliot dragged himself away with a groan, the blue light of his phone illuminating the space once more as he checked his message.
Whatever it was had him scrambling away from Jackson faster than he’d possibly ever seen him move.
“Is everything alright?” Jackson reached out, not quite touching Elliot’s shoulder, before letting his hand fall to the ground. “I didn’t mean to push.”
Owens was practically shaking, facing away from him as he replied. “You didn’t. I just can’t. Not with you.”
Of course, Jackson knew he wasn’t ever going to be anyone’s first choice. Still, it fucking hurt, after everything they’d shared. “Let’s get some sleep,” he replied.
He fell back on the thin mattress beneath him, pulling his sleeping bag up as high as he could and staring at the tent ceiling.