Chapter 16
Elliot
Elliot felt like he was living in a sort of blissful fog.
As March had given way to April the temperature had continued to rise.
Though the air was still crisp, it wasn’t as biting as when they’d arrived.
There were fewer reporters floating around; a doping scandal blowing up at one of the major American training groups had sent them clamouring for the story.
The reprieve was a welcome one. He even let himself sit with Jennings for meals now, less concerned that it would somehow be misinterpreted… or rather, correctly interpreted.
Time at camp had taken on a weird liminal feel.
The days were both endless and flying by too fast. He’d get up, Jackson would help him tape up his ankle, they’d have breakfast together, and then meet up with Anders at the track.
Train, explore the town, and then he'd end the day sneaking into Jackson’s room.
It was all very clandestine. It had to be, because he couldn’t ever make this more than it was; he had too much on the line. A bit of fun at altitude camp, though, he couldn’t deny himself that. Once they were back to the real world… Well, he’d deal with that when it came to it.
With the London Marathon now just over three weeks away, they were in their peak distance week. After this, they’d be heading back home for a sharp taper in the lead-up to the race.
Anders was acting like he was training them to survive the apocalypse, not a marathon.
Elliot didn’t think he’d ever run so many miles in such a short space of time.
The taping job Jackson helped him with every morning was holding his ankle together well enough, but he was grateful there wouldn’t be too many heavy workouts once they made it through this week.
A good rest during his taper was exactly what he needed to get back to normal.
Elliot jogged ahead of Jackson as the trail narrowed on the long, looping route Anders had set them off on, hyperconscious of the man behind him. Sunlight filtered through the trees, dappled patterns dancing on the path, while patches of lingering snow along the trail glimmered in the glow.
“Fuck, this is a great view,” Jackson managed to huff out.
Elliot smirked. “Yeah, you like the forest that much?” he replied innocently.
“Oh, are we in a forest?” Jackson replied. “I hadn’t noticed.”
They carried on for another mile of trail. The warmth of the sun was surprising, given the altitude. He could feel it on his cheeks, melting the cold bite from the shaded areas.
“Though now that you mention it, we are pretty deep in the woods. Nobody around for miles, I’d wager,” Jackson said.
Elliot felt the weight of his gaze as they rounded the corner, heading deeper into the woods. “If you’re thinking of pushing me up against a tree and having your way with me, you need to cool it.”
“Come on, Owens. Live a little.”
“Not a chance. Anders is watching our heart rate monitors,” Elliot replied. “Besides, one of us still needs to impress him, and taking twenty minutes longer than we should on this run isn’t going to score me any points.”
“Twenty minutes?” Jackson replied from over Elliot’s shoulder. “Not a chance you’ll last that long once I get my mouth on you.”
“I can tell you’re trying to goad me into a bet, Jennings, but it’s not happening.
” He’d have been lying if he said he wasn’t tempted.
His dick was stirring at the thought, but he wasn’t kidding around.
Keep Anders happy was paramount. He needed the Olympics.
“But if you’re good, you can come by my room later. ”
“I can be good,” Jackson replied.
Elliot grinned to himself. “Prove it.” Then he picked up the pace. As much as he liked teasing Jackson, he wasn’t willing to draw this out any longer than necessary.
Jackson was hot on his heels. “Want to make this interesting?” he asked.
Elliot rolled his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
“Just a friendly wager.”
Despite himself, Elliot found his interest piqued. “Is this a sex thing?”
Jackson laughed behind him. “Nah, don’t need a race for that. You’re a sure thing, aren’t you, Princess?”
Elliot bristled at the name Jackson hadn’t used since that first night, before they’d been anything, but his body disagreed with his head’s reaction.
Jackson was still speaking, though, as he caught up to him. He fell into step with Elliot, so naturally it felt almost symbolic. “I want a retraction.”
“A retraction?”
He could see the grin on Jackson’s face in his mind as he heard the reply. “When I beat you back to the track, I want you to tell the whole world how much faster than you I am and how much I deserve my spot on the Olympic team, and how wrong you were about me and my dedication to the sport.”
“Is this still about what I said after Copenhagen?” Elliot asked, his focus broken.
He hadn’t thought the other man was still affected by it at all, but apparently that wasn’t true.
He felt kind of…bad about it. But still, a retraction?
His father would never allow it. It would be like dredging up ancient history.
“That, and all your other little digs over the past few years.”
“I thought we were past that.”
Jackson hummed. “Past it? You get past a bad race, not being called a cheat in front of the whole world.”
Elliot looked away. “Right.”
Jackson didn’t say anything, and the silence dragged on as they ran.
Elliot could feel the sting behind his ribs.
He’d apologised; he’d tried to make it right.
He thought he had. He’d wrongly assumed that if Jennings was willing to touch him, to kiss him like he was something precious, then he must have been forgiven.
But maybe some things couldn’t be fixed.
He forced humour into his tone. “Guess I should be grateful you’re still talking to me at all.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Ell. I’m not still angry, I just…
These things follow you, you know? I'm still being pulled in for random testing at every major. It’d be nice to clear the air.
” Jackson was running beside him now. He bumped his shoulder lightly.
“Besides, you don’t have to do it if you beat me. ”
“I’m not racing you. I’m injured.”
“Aw, poor little princess. You promised you were fine, though. So, which is it? Are you injured, or is it cause you don’t think you can win?”
“Fuck you, Jennings.”
“Later, if you’re lucky,” Jackson replied as he took off, stride lengthening and changeover picking up as he darted around Elliot on the narrow trail.
The bloody cheat.
“What do I get if I win?” Elliot shouted after him as he pushed his pace up, not letting Jackson gain too much of a lead.
“Anything you want,” Jackson laughed.
Elliot grinned as they ran through the forest, relieved by Jackson’s return to his usual cheerful self.
They kept pace with each other the whole way around.
As the trail opened up and the forest gave way to the grassy banks of the lake, he knew it was time to make his move.
If there was one thing he knew about racing against Jackson Jennings, it was that he always started too fast, and his finishing kick could never quite match Elliot’s.
Elliot wasn’t above taking advantage of that.
He pushed himself harder, racing full-out now towards the track where he had no doubt Anders would scold them for deviating from the training plan he’d explicitly laid out for the day.
The lake was glassy with a faint ripple from the breeze as they raced past, and the snow-capped peaks gleamed white against the brightening sky.
Jackson held his own next to him until they were about a hundred metres out, then Elliot shot him a sunny smile as he really turned on the gas, sprinting over the manicured grass to the middle of the athletics track.
As he slowed to a jog, he turned to Jackson, who was seconds behind him. The adrenaline coursing through his veins almost made him reckless enough to grab him and kiss the bemused expression off his face. Almost.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Anders’s voice rang out through the calm of the midday lull in activity. “This is your peak week, not a school sports day.”
Elliot withered at the criticism.
Jackson stepped in. “Sorry. Old rivalry. You know how it is.”
Anders let out a long-suffering sigh. “Coaching at this level was meant to be less of a headache than college kids.”
“Oh, don’t be like that, Coach,” Jackson said with a smile, his audacity shocking Elliot. “We’ve got our eyes on the prize; you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Elliot was alternating glancing between the two with staring down at the grass in the hopes of keeping Anders’s attention off of him.
He was pleased he’d won, despite Anders’s ire.
But the thought of Jackson’s request had settled in his chest. He owed it to him, and he knew it.
Even if they weren’t doing, well, whatever they were doing, they were teammates now. Sort of.
When he was dismissed and Jackson asked to stay behind to talk race strategy, it smarted.
It may have felt like they were part of the same team, but Jackson Jennings still had the one thing Elliot desperately wanted, and no matter how many times he’d been reassured of his place, he wouldn’t truly believe it until the Team GB kit was in his hands.
Trying to shake the negative thoughts from his head before they had a chance to take root, Elliot focused instead on what he’d ask of Jackson for winning their little wager. There was only one thing he wanted from Jackson Jennings, though, and it was, in Jackson’s own words, a sure thing.