Chapter 25
Jackson
He could do this. He could handle keeping quiet about their relationship until Elliot was ready.
It was fine. Jackson was fine. He was on his way to Elliot’s place, excited to see where his boyfriend lived, but the excuse he’d given to Darius to ditch the Opening Ceremonies viewing party with their friends had been flimsy at best, and he was spiralling a tiny bit.
Being with Elliot sometimes made Jackson feel unstoppable, but dropping his hand in public, trying not to smile too widely when Elliot left his most scathing critiques for him after training… It was bloody painful.
The worst of it was when he rang home.
His dad was on about building that damn shed again, and it made Jackson want to scream, but almost as bad was when his mum gently asked if he was seeing anyone. The denial felt like ash in his mouth, like it could be a prophecy that he didn’t want to come true.
There were just days until the team was due to fly out to the Olympics.
Jackson knew his family wouldn’t make it, and he desperately wanted to ask Elliot if he would be there, because even if he couldn’t do it openly, knowing someone was there on the sidelines cheering him on, knowing someone cared how his race went, and believed he deserved to be there…
Jackson knew that would make all the difference.
It felt like an insensitive thing to ask, though.
Would Elliot want to hide away and avoid all Olympic news?
Could Jackson really ask him to fly out to watch his secret boyfriend compete in the race he’d missed out on himself?
Fuck, that wasn’t even considering Elliot’s fear of flying, which, though he tried to downplay it, Jackson knew was a major source of anxiety for him.
It explained why he’d always flown out to the majors so early—he must have needed the recovery time.
God, so many things that had irritated him about Elliot Owens in the past made sense now that he knew the real him.
He'd arrived in front of Elliot’s door. He buzzed, and Elliot flung it open almost immediately. He looked perfect.
“Hi.” Elliot smiled.
Jackson stepped over the threshold, pushing Elliot up against the wall. He bracketed his boyfriend's face with his hands and planted a kiss on his lips. “Hi,” he breathed, letting their foreheads rest against each other.
“I made dinner,” Elliot said. He threaded their hands together and led him into the flat.
Jackson took in the space. It was modern and exceptionally clean, with a mezzanine floor that he imagined was where Elliot’s bedroom was. He eyed the narrow, ladder-like steps up to it. “How did you navigate that while you were injured?”
“With great difficulty,” Elliot replied with a shrug. “Now, come on. Food.”
Elliot dragged Jackson through the room to where he’d set up his small dining table with what looked like a stereotypical romantic dinner for two.
Candles, flowers, the works. The Opening Ceremonies were starting on TV and Elliot had angled the table so they could both watch.
It was sweet; sweet and thoughtful in a way no one would ever have expected from Elliot Owens.
Jackson realised with a start that no one had ever done anything like this for him before.
He looked at his boyfriend, who was eyeing him, a hand nervously fussing with his blonde locks. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”
“Nah,” Jackson replied. “It’s perfect.”
“Will you watch the race?” Jackson asked.
The question had been building inside him as they cuddled on Elliot’s sofa watching old race tape.
The ceremonies had ended, and Jackson would have been lying if he'd said the spectacle hadn't brought a tear to his eyes.
He'd be there soon, at the pinnacle of sporting excellence, ready to take on the world.
“What do you mean?” Elliot asked. “Of course I will. I watch all the major races.”
Jackson swallowed. “Of course. I meant… I meant…will you watch it in person?”
“Do you want me to?”
Jackson turned his head to respond. “Yeah, it’d be nice to know someone cared, you know? I don’t think my parents will be able to go, not with my da’s health this year, and the cost…” He let himself trail off, watching Elliot as silence hung between them.
“I…” Elliot looked like he was measuring his words. “I’ll try,” he finally replied.
Jackson’s heart ached, but that was the most he could ask for.
He squeezed Elliot’s hand to try to show he understood.
They were stretched out together, Jackson in front of Elliot, with Elliot’s arms holding him flush against his body while they reviewed tape from the Boston marathon just a few months before.
“See this here—” Elliot paused the clip. “—it’s where Julien pulled ahead. He held that pace the rest of the race. I’d bet he uses the same strategy at the Games.”
Jackson nodded. Elliot was good at this—dissecting strategies, anticipating what his opponents would do.
“You’re right. We should anticipate that.”
Elliot pulled him closer. “I’ll come,” he said suddenly.
Jackson twisted around, nearly falling off the sofa in an effort to look his boyfriend in the eyes.
“Really?”
Elliot nodded. “You’ll have to stay in the village, though. We’ll hardly see each other. It’ll be horrible.”
Jackson hummed. “We’ll have to up our ‘super sexy spy boyfriends’ game, then.”
“Oh? And how do we do that?”
“More sneaking.” He brought Elliot’s hands to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “We’ll have to learn to be quiet.” He kissed the inside of his wrist. “And get some x-ray vision goggles.”
“And why would we need those?”
Jackson shrugged. “I think they’d be cool.”
Elliot laughed, the sound light and carefree. “I’m sorry to inform you that they do not actually exist.”
Jackson pouted for a moment, then tilted his head back to catch Elliot’s lips in a kiss. They stayed like that, the clip ending as they kissed, unhurried, on the sofa.
“Take me upstairs?” Jackson asked.
“Yeah,” Elliot breathed. He tilted his head, granting Jackson better access as he trailed kisses down his neck, then bit down on the flesh.
“Jennings,” Elliot groaned.
Fuck, the things he’d let this man do to him.
“Show me where you sleep, Princess. Show me where you lie in bed playing with yourself while you watch videos of me racing.”
“I’ve never,” Elliot gasped as Jackson’s hands ghosted over the waistband of his joggers.
Jackson leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Have you not? ’Cause I certainly have.”
Elliot got up and grabbed Jackson’s hand, pulling him off the sofa and towards the mezzanine ladder. Jackson held back the joke he wanted to make about watching Elliot climb up ahead of him, but he did enjoy the view.
When they reached the top, Jackson barely had time to take in the space.
Elliot wrapped his legs around his back, kissing him hungrily as Jackson walked them towards the bed.
He lowered Elliot carefully onto the mattress before climbing on top of him, the clothes separating them quickly becoming an obstacle to his single-minded desire for the man beneath him.
Elliot tugged at Jackson’s shirt, heat flaring in those stormy eyes as Jackson straddled him and pulled his shirt off over his head, rocking back on his heels.
The soft light of dusk cast shadows around the room, bathing them both in a gentle glow.
“Want you so much, Jennings,” Elliot whispered. “Always have.”
The admission hung in the air between them.
“How do you want me, Ell?” he asked.
Elliot scrambled to the side. He rummaged through his nightstand for condoms and lube, then looked at Jackson almost shyly from beneath his long, dark lashes. “Inside me, please?”
Jackson’s heart hammered. They had fooled around plenty over the last few days, but they hadn’t done this. Not since St. Moritz.
“You sure?” Jackson asked, pulling back and looking deep into Elliot’s eyes. “Because if you let me have you again, Ell, as something real—as your boyfriend, not a fling, not a hookup—I’m never going to be able to let you go.”
“I’m sure, Jennings. I’m so sure. Please.” Elliot flushed, but he was already tugging his joggers down. Jackson pulled off his own clothes and then reached for Elliot’s hand, gripping it tightly as he kissed down Elliot’s chest.
His heart was pounding. He breathed in deeply, resting his forehead on Elliot’s stomach, stroking his hard cock as he traced a finger over his hole.
Hooking one of Elliot’s legs over his shoulder, he nipped at his inner thigh before flattening his tongue and laving it over Elliot’s taint.
He kissed and licked at him sloppily, doing everything he could to make his boyfriend desperate with need before pushing the tip of his tongue into Elliot’s hole.
Elliot let out a low groan. “Jennings.”
Jackson pulled back. “You like that, Princess?” he asked. He didn’t wait for a reply, though, before he was licking a stripe up his crack before thrusting his tongue back in with abandon.
Jackson’s untouched cock hung heavy, leaking precum. His whole body felt alive with desire. It was like he’d been drifting for so long, and now he was on stable ground again. This was where he was meant to be.
“Jennings, now, please,” Elliot groaned.
Jackson wasn’t going to argue. He pushed his finger in slowly as he moved his body on top of Elliot’s, not once breaking eye contact.
“More,” Elliot moaned.
Jackson smiled and kissed him as he brought a second finger to join the first, slowly stretching him open.
“Jennings, please, I need you.”
“Don’t want to hurt you. Just a little more.” He kissed the tip of Elliot’s nose as he crooked his two fingers forward, making Elliot’s breath stutter and his cock pulse against Jackson’s leg.
Jackson twined a hand around both of their lengths, stroking them together as he added a third finger, making sure Elliot was ready for him.
“Blood fucking hell, Jackson, I need it. Please.”