Chapter 17 #3
The Europeans hesitated. “We can dip our feet,” Alice suggested. “Maybe sit on the edge.”
Jackson laughed and ran forward. He pushed his joggers down before slipping into the warm water. The heat was a sharp contrast to the chilly evening air, and he swam out at speed, warming his body and washing away the haze that had settled over him after dinner.
The pool was bracketed by faux rock outcroppings, and golden lighting highlighted the steam coming off them as it drifted over the water.
Jackson swam around one of the rocks before leaning back and letting himself float, watching the stars as his body relaxed into the heat of the pool and he tried to sort through the confusing thoughts Elliot Owens brought into his life.
The pool wasn’t overly deep or large, but in the darkness he felt almost completely alone as he drifted, barely able to make out the sounds of his friends on the pool deck over the rushing of a water feature.
A louder splash sounded next to him, and he opened his eyes to see Elliot in front of him, just a few strokes away.
“You’re here,” Jackson said dumbly.
“I said I’d come in, didn’t I?” Elliot replied. The heat in his gaze made the faint April chill in the air feel almost irrelevant. “Got to take the little indulgences where I can,” he said, swimming closer to Jackson.
Elliot lay back in the water next to him, and the two of them drifted, hands brushing under the warm surface, staring up at the starry sky above the softly lit pool.
“Do you really think those things? About me?” Elliot asked. He sounded incredulous, as though no one had ever noticed his strength or dedication before.
The steam caught the light of the hotel lamps, and the night sky sparkled, making Jackson feel a reckless kind of hope. “Yes, of course I do. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Owens, but I’m pretty fucking into you.”
“Jennings…” Elliot’s tone was unreadable, but Jackson could feel the tension coiling in the water between them. He knew what was coming, and he didn’t want to hear it. Not now.
“Shhh. It’s fine, I know. You don’t have to say anything.”
Jackson felt a splash to his left. Elliot had ducked under the surface, then popped up directly in front of him, his knees brushing tentatively against Jackson’s under the surface.
Droplets of warm water glinted like tiny stars in Elliot’s damp hair, and the reflection of the stars above them flickered over the still water, but they paled in comparison.
“I wish I could kiss you right now,” Elliot whispered.
“I didn’t say anything special, Ell. Anyone who knows you could see those things.”
“Nobody has ever said those things to me before, as if they were facts. Like…”
“They are,” Jackson replied, twining their hands together beneath the water.
Elliot sighed. “Fuck, Jennings. I can’t…”
He leaned in, lips ghosting over Jackson’s before a loud squeal from the pool deck had him reeling backwards.
Jackson could hear the group on the deck laughing loudly now; it sounded as though the girls had finally pushed Stefan into the pool.
The moment between them had shattered, and the realisation that they were far from alone stopped Elliot in his tracks.
It hurt, sure. But it hurt more seeing him deny himself something he wanted out of fear.
“Ell, nobody saw anything. It’s okay,” Jackson murmured.
“I’m sorry,” Elliot sighed. “I don’t mean to keep messing you around.”
Jackson lay back again, letting the warm water cradle them both. “You’re not messing me around. You’ve been nothing but clear with me. I’m more than happy to take what I can get.”
“Yeah?” Elliot hesitated. “Even when we get back?”
“If you still want it, I’m hardly going to deny you,” Jackson replied, more honestly than he intended.
Elliot hummed, letting himself relax a fraction. “I am sorry, you know. For not being braver. And for the things I said before I bothered to get to know the real you. Once we’re both on the team, people will assume things. They’ll expect a rivalry. It might be…uncomfortable.”
“You don’t need to keep apologising, and if the people want a rivalry, we can give them one,” Jackson said, trying to lighten the mood. “But that’s the first time I’ve heard you talk about the team like you believe you’ll make it.”
“Fuck, I’ve probably jinxed it now,” Elliot groaned.
“Nah, impossible.”
They floated closer, and Jackson reached out a hand to Elliot, feeling his whole heart light up when he accepted it. They watched the stars above them, hands clasped, steam curling around their shoulders.
“I know you’ll be there on the Olympic start line, Owens,” Jackson said suddenly, his voice steady. “I know it deep in my bones. And maybe then…”
Elliot sighed. “A lot’s riding on London, though. It might not go my way. And even if it does, I don’t… I already have to work so hard to be seen for myself and not my father. I don’t want to ruin my career. Or his legacy. I don’t want my legacy to be ‘the gay runner.’ No offence.”
Jackson snorted. “None taken. I know what my brand is, and I lean into it—doesn’t mean you have to.”
“It works for you because you lean into it, though. People’s careers have been destroyed over less.”
It wasn’t that Jackson thought he was wrong; it was the way Elliot said it. The conviction in his voice seemed too knowing. Too certain that his career couldn’t survive his coming out, even when plenty of evidence pointed to the contrary. “So we get through London, then take it from there?”
“Yeah,” Elliot sighed.
They went back to floating in silence, hands intertwined, warm water lapping around them, steam rising into the cool night sky. When the quiet settled over the pool and the rest of St. Moritz, Elliot kissed him again, and Jackson thought he might drown in it.