Chapter 17
Jackson
Jackson was feeling extremely off balance. That hadn’t felt like a casual fuck. Jackson knew casual, was an expert in it. But that…that hadn’t been casual. That had been…precious. The word entered his mind and made him freeze up.
He rose from the bed mechanically, walking the two steps to the small en suite to retrieve a cloth. On his return, he paused in the small doorway, marvelling at the view in front of him. Elliot Owens was spread out like a starfish in the middle of the bed, his head resting between the pillows.
The sheets were tangled at the bottom of the bed, giving Jackson a full view of Elliot’s long, sinewy limbs.
He let his eyes trace the length of his body, from the neon blue tape around his ankle, all the way up to the hollow of his abs where cum had pooled, to his face, where his long pale eyelashes fluttered as he blinked slowly.
Jackson could scarcely believe this was real. Precious.
“I can feel you staring, Jennings.”
Jackson grinned, Elliot’s snark grounding him back in the task at hand as he returned to the bed and passed him the cloth.
“What, you’re making me do it myself? God, you get some, and all gentlemanly tendencies disappear.” There was a teasing light in Elliot’s eyes that undercut the harsh tone of his voice, but Jackson took the hint.
“Anything for you, dear,” he replied as he took the cloth from Elliot and cleaned him with care.
The worrying thing was, as the words left his lips, Jackson realised he might mean it.
These were not the kinds of feelings he should be having, not now.
Not when he knew that at the end of the day, Owens would happily hang him out to dry if it meant he could take his spot in the Olympics.
When he’d finished, he stretched himself out in the minuscule space Elliot had left on the edge of the bed. “Shove over,” he groused.
“It’s my bed, Jennings,” Elliot replied.
Jackson nuzzled his neck. “But I want to cuddle.”
“It’s the middle of the afternoon. We can’t stay here all day.”
Jackson groaned and draped himself over Elliot. “I mean, we could.”
“You heard Anders this morning—we need to take things seriously. I can’t…I can’t do this with you if it’s going to interfere with our training.”
Jackson wasn’t sure what it was they were doing exactly, but he didn’t love the implication that he didn’t take his training as seriously as Elliot did.
“I’m not asking you to throw away your training for the occasional fuck, Owens,” he replied, possibly more coldly than he’d intended. He winced as he watched the open expression on Elliot’s face disappear.
“That what this is, then?” Elliot asked.
Jackson should have said yes. He knew he should have kept this in a neat, tidy little box labelled Rivals with Benefits and let it go. But he couldn’t lie, and he couldn’t keep his irritation up when he saw the vulnerability behind Elliot’s icy facade.
“It’s whatever you want it to be,” he sighed. “But training comes first, always.”
Elliot nodded, though the soft expression didn’t return. “I should get dressed.”
“I was going to get dinner in town tonight,” Jackson said. “Would you…would you like to join me?”
Elliot sighed as he sat up, and Jackson couldn’t quite pinpoint what he’d done wrong now. The one thing he knew was that he needed Elliot to say yes. For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, the idea of going back to his own room now felt…tragic.
“Jennings, are you asking me on a date?”
Jackson ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe.”
Elliot sighed, which didn’t feel particularly promising from Jackson’s perspective.
“I…like you, Jennings,” he started.
“Oh, call the press,” Jackson quipped. Part of him was hoping to stave off the inevitable rejection he could see speeding towards him.
“Shut up.” Elliot smirked. “But it’s true,” he said as he picked at an imaginary thread in the sheet. “We can’t be anything, Jackson. I’m not—I’m never going to come out. This isn’t like, wait a few months and see. I’m not doing it. I can’t be known for anything other than my times on the road.”
Jackson put his best nonchalant grin on, because he did get it; Elliot had made that pretty clear from the start. “I mean…it can be teammates out for a quick bite.”
“I don’t want to shove you back into the closet with me. I think I’ve done enough to fuck with your life over the years.”
“Look, Ell, I’m asking you to eat with me, not to get married.
You have to have dinner sometime. Plus, you can tattle on me to Anders if I deviate from my meal plan.
” That seemed to break the tension building in Elliot’s body as he very maturely stuck his tongue out at Jackson.
“As for the rest of it, let’s keep things casual, okay?
We’re having a good time, and we can continue having a good time without making a big show of things. ”
Elliot nodded. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure, Ell. Don’t overthink it. This doesn’t have to be anything more than it is,” he said with more conviction than he felt. “I’m still going to destroy you in London. Especially if you don’t sort that ankle out.”
“I’ll show you, you know. In London, I’m going to ruin you.”
Jackson scoffed.
Elliot grinned up at him. “And then I’m going to take you home and fuck you so hard you see stars, all with the first-place medal around my neck.”
“Yeah,” Jackson whispered. “You want to fuck me, Owens?” It was the first indication that Elliot had given that this could extend beyond altitude camp. But Jackson wasn’t going to point that out to him, wasn’t going to risk quashing the little kernel of hope growing in his chest.
Elliot hummed in confirmation. “Yeah, Jennings. Want to watch you fall apart on my cock.”
“I want that,” Jackson groaned. “Fuck, Owens. I really want that.”
Bringing it back to sex seemed to settle something for Elliot, as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and wandered naked towards the bathroom. “Get dressed, Jennings. I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes? Have you seen what you’ve done to my hair?” Jackson replied. “At least give me fifteen.”
Elliot laughed as Jackson rolled out of bed and searched around the room until he located his robe near the door. It was only now that he was realising he’d have to cross the hotel corridor in just a dressing gown for the second time that day, and how much of a risk that was.
The corridor was mercifully empty except for a staff member who barely gave him a second glance as he hurried towards his door.
Back in his own room, Jackson paced in front of the mirror.
This thing with Elliot, whatever it was, was bringing up feelings he didn’t think he’d ever had before.
He wanted Elliot. He wanted every part of him, and it was fucking terrifying.
This tentative dance between them was a delicate balance.
He knew he was too invested already, and he had to keep some distance between them, because he was sure Ell would sprint in the other direction at the first hint of any investment on Jackson’s side.
But there had been a moment between them when Elliot had collapsed against him, and Jackson had felt like he was his.
He’d wanted to revel in the fact that this controlled, untouchable man belonged to him, even if just for a second, and then it had slipped away.
Jackson showered and dried his hair before throwing it into a loose bun, moving by rote until he stalled in front of his suitcase, frozen with indecision.
He hadn’t brought any date-appropriate clothing with him, only athletic wear, for obvious reasons.
And as much as he’d assured Elliot this wasn’t a date, Jackson definitely wanted it to be.
The best he could do was the slightly more tailored-looking navy joggers he’d thrown into his bag because a sponsor had sent them to him shortly before the trip.
It was hardly the suavest look he’d ever pulled together, but coupled with a white T-shirt and a wool jumper, Jackson figured it was a decent outfit and hopefully wouldn’t make it look like he was trying too hard. He didn’t need Elliot to bolt on sight.
The lobby was teeming with people when Jackson entered.
It was a Sunday night, so there was a lot of changeover happening as new athletes and tourists arrived, taking in their first evening in the Swiss mountains.
There was also more press around than there had been for the last few days, which sent Jackson’s mood plummeting.
His eyes immediately found Elliot, who was leaning stiffly against the wall near the door.
He was dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a blue waffle shirt that he somehow managed to make look like he’d just stepped off the cover of GQ.
Jackson felt woefully underdressed, but it was too late to turn back now.
“Jennings,” Elliot said as he approached. “You’re almost on time, well done.”
“I’m never late when there’s food involved,” Jackson replied with an easy smile as he let his eyes drift over Elliot, greedily taking in every inch of him.
Elliot pushed off the wall and started walking. “Is that why Anders has started supplying you with sweets? Motivation to turn up on time?”
“There are other things that motivate me as well,” Jackson replied. He was certain Elliot could read the hunger in his eyes. He wanted to kiss him. Elliot kept distance between them, though, staying a few steps ahead of Jackson until they were well out of view of the hotel.
“It’s busy today,” he said as he finally slowed, allowing Jackson to fall into step with him.
“Yeah, lots of people about,” Jackson replied, jostling Elliot’s shoulder as they walked, just as an excuse to touch him. He understood well enough. Keep away, or else.