Chapter 29
Elliot
Elliot gripped Jackson’s hand the entire flight.
Despite his earlier insistence, he followed Jackson to the Olympic village, leaving the Jennings family with Lord Hewitt and Darius’s sister, Selena.
On their arrival at the Olympic Village, they met up with Anders and Hewitt the younger.
Jackson was checked in quickly, and Anders pulled Elliot aside as his boyfriend charmed the woman at the check-in desk.
“I registered you as an alternate,” Anders explained.
Elliot baulked. “Why? I told you Jackson would make it.”
“I’m a professional, Owens. I needed to cover all my bases.” Anders shrugged. “In any case, what I’m trying to tell you is that you can stay on-site if you want to.”
Elliot’s eyes widened. His first thought was Yes, absolutely.
He wanted to be here with Jackson. But then the doubt crept in.
Could he handle it? Being surrounded by athletes preparing for an event he’d dreamed of his whole life?
And would Jackson even want him here? Or would he just be a distraction?
Before he had a chance to answer, Jackson slung an arm around his shoulders, casual as anything. “That’s brilliant,” he said. “You know, Owens has been living up to his assistant coach title. Kept me honest.”
“I’m sure,” Anders replied with an arched brow.
Elliot could feel Hewitt’s eyes on him, searching. He felt like he’d been transparent as fuck organising the flights, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell the man the truth. That felt like something Jackson should do, anyway. He was his friend, after all.
The athletes had their own apartment with two twin rooms. Jackson stood in front of the two doors in silent deliberation until Elliot huffed and pushed him towards the room with Hewitt.
He went through the other door to find Green stretched out on a bed with headphones in his ears and his laptop open.
He eyed Elliot with a knowing smirk, pulled out his headphones, and closed his laptop.
“We can swap the rooms around,” Green said. “It’s not a big deal.”
Elliot stretched himself out on the cardboard-framed bed. “No way to do that without looking sus to Hewitt. Besides, Anders knows. He’s done this on purpose.”
“Probably hoping you’ll keep me in check,” Green grumbled.
Elliot turned to look at his new roommate. “Do you need to be? Kept in check?”
“Of course not. I’m an adult.”
“Barely,” Elliot mumbled, though not quietly enough from the glare the kid sent his way.
“I’m gonna go check out some of the diving. You coming?” Chris asked.
“Nah, need to catch up on sleep.”
“Alright, old man,” Chris said with a laugh as he left the room.
If Elliot hadn’t been so damn exhausted, he’d have been annoyed, but as it was, he was out like a light in seconds.
Elliot woke an hour later to a warm body wrapped around him and a thick cock digging into his back as Jackson peppered kisses down his jaw.
“Jennings,” he groaned.
Jackson responded by rolling Elliot on top of him and capturing his lips in an electrifying kiss.
“We can’t. Hewitt—”
“On a video call with Jamie. They weren’t being very quiet, so I put music on,” Jackson whispered as he reached into Elliot’s shorts, gripping his rapidly thickening cock. Elliot could hear the loud soundtrack blasting in the sitting room of the tiny apartment.
“Hides all kinds of sounds.” Elliot laughed.
“Exactly.” Jackson grinned as he stroked Elliot’s length. “Been thinking about this all day. On the plane, in the taxi. Watching you.”
“Yeah? You been thinking about my cock?”
“I’m always thinking about it, Princess. It’s just so pretty.” Jackson ground his hips against Elliot’s, their clothed erections rubbing against each other, full of promise.
“We have to meet Anders in less than an hour.”
“Then you better fuck me hard and fast.” Jackson groaned as he tugged his own shorts off and tossed them to the side, rolling over to reveal a plug decorated with the a gold medal nestled between his cheeks.
Elliot couldn’t hold back the laughter that escaped, even as his cock twitched at the sight. “You are fucking absurd, Jennings.”
“You love it.”
“I absolutely bloody do,” Elliot answered. “Where did you buy this?” He tweaked the base of the plug, eliciting a soft moan from Jackson.
“Is that really what you want to talk about right now? My online shopping habit?”
Elliot laughed. “How long have you been walking around like this?”
“I was hoping for some private time on the flight, so…”
Elliot startled. “Jackson, that’s ages.” His smile turned feral. “You must be desperate by now.”
“Thought that was obvious,” Jackson groaned.
Elliot let his hand drift over the soft, smooth globes of his boyfriend’s arse. He wanted to tease him, but he hesitated. "I don't think we should, Jackson. I don't want to hurt you."
Jackson snorted. "Someone thinks pretty highly of themselves."
“You have the biggest race of your life coming up.”
“No pressure.”
“I’m serious, Jackson. I’ve never—what if—”
Jackson turned, looking back at him in a way that made Elliot shift uncomfortably. “Have you really never? Do you not want to?”
Elliot prickled with embarrassment. “I’m not sure what part of my history of clandestine club hookups makes you think I’m as experienced as you. I want to, but—”
Jackson stopped him with a kiss. When they pulled apart, he murmured into Elliot’s neck, all soft and seductive. “I love you, Elliot, and I want you so much. Please, let me be the first to have that.”
Elliot paused for a moment, desire at war with nerves. Desire won. “Fine,” Elliot sighed, though it wasn’t exactly a hardship. He’d tried to do the responsible thing, but he didn’t have it in him to resist something he wanted so damn badly.
“Don’t sound too excited,” Jackson deadpanned.
“Oh, I’m excited, Jennings,” he replied as he pulled Jackson against him, his hard cock grazing his backside.
“Fuck,” Jackson whispered.
“Promise you’ll tell me to stop if it isn’t good, or if it hurts,” he said seriously.
“Ell, I promise,” Jackson replied. “I want you so much.”
“Damnit, I haven’t even opened my bags,” he said as he scrambled off the bed. “Play with yourself while I find some lube.”
Elliot rolled off the bed and dug through his backpack, trying to ignore the tent in his shorts as he fished through the small pocket to find the bottle and condoms he was certain he’d stashed there.
When he turned back around, the sight nearly made him pass out.
Jackson was naked, spread out on the bed, with his legs in the air as he pushed the plug in and out of his arse.
“Fuck,” Elliot whispered.
“Yeah,” Jackson replied, his voice husky with need.
Passing the bottle to Jackson, Elliot grinned wolfishly. “Well then. Get yourself ready for me, Jennings. I want to watch you.”
Jackson’s expression rapidly cycled through several emotions before settling on what Elliot could only describe as smug.
He leaned back against the headboard, spreading his legs wide and letting his hand lazily stroke his cock.
A bead of precum formed on the tip, and Elliot reached forward, swiping it up with his finger and licking it off.
Jackson bit his lip as he poured lube into his hand, and Elliot gave him his complete attention as Jackson stroked lightly over his puckered bud before sliding a single finger in beside the plug.
Jackson let out a long sigh, and Elliot had to grip the base of his cock to stop himself from coming right then and there as he watched Jackson stretch himself.
“Please, Ell, I'm more than ready. I need you,” Jackson moaned.
Elliot fumbled out of his own clothes and reached for the condom.
“Don’t use it,” Jackson begged. “We’ve shared test results, and we’re not seeing other people. Please, Princess.”
Jackson did make a good point, even if it was a point he was making while he was writhing on Elliot's bed, begging for his cock. But, as he always seemed to do for Jackson Jennings, Elliot acquiesced.
Elliot pounced. He pulled the plug out slowly, marvelling at the sight before him as he poured lube over his fingers, pushing two into Jackson straight away.
“I’m ready. Give me your cock, Owens.”
“Be fucking patient, Jennings. It's taken so much for us to get here; I’m not going to risk you going out with a sex injury.”
“It’d be worth it,” Jackson replied, pushing back on Elliot’s fingers as he inserted a third. “Please.”
Elliot didn’t need to be asked twice. He awkwardly inched forward on his knees until he was hovering directly over Jackson, who stroked him, coating his cock with lube before guiding him slowly inside.
Elliot moved slowly, watching in near awe as he slid in, the feeling overwhelmingly hot, tight, and perfect.
He bit his tongue to stop himself from losing control.
Jackson's breaths were coming out in short puffs, and he was gripping Elliot’s forearms hard enough to bruise.
When he bottomed out, Elliot leaned down and kissed his boyfriend, all sloppy tongue and teeth.
He stilled, breathing into Jackson, the tendons in his neck straining with the effort of holding himself back.
“Please move,” Jackson moaned.
Elliot started to thrust, slowly dragging his cock in and out of Jackson while utter nonsense fell from his boyfriend’s mouth, mostly profanity and desperate pleas for Elliot to move faster.
“It’s too good. You're too perfect. I’m not going to last,” Elliot whimpered.
“Don’t care. Just faster, harder, please.”
“I love it when you beg.”
“Fuck me like I’m the only thing standing between you and a gold medal, Princess. We don’t have time for slow and sweet.”
Elliot pulled out, then slammed back in, snapping his hips as Jackson arched up to meet his thrusts. “That what you want, Jennings?” Elliot let himself drag back slowly before snapping forward again. “Want me to break you?”
“I fucking dare you to try,” Jackson gasped.
Elliot took the challenge for what it was, thrusting into Jackson until they were a mess of sweat and gasps.
The scratch marks down Elliot’s back and the bruises on his hips were a testament to the fact that, despite how deeply they loved each other, Elliot Owens and Jackson Jennings would forever be each other's greatest competition.
An absolute litany of pleas fell from Jackson’s lips as Elliot moved his hips faster, clumsily stroking Jackson in time to his thrusts.
With a cry, Jackson tumbled over the edge.
Elliot had just a moment to admire him before he was digging his fingers hard into Jackson’s thighs as he came deep inside him.
He pulled out and watched with a kind of fascination as his cum dribbled out of his boyfriend. Then he crawled up next to him and collapsed on the bed. They lay in silence for a moment, legs intertwined, until Elliot broke it.
“We might need to change the sheets.”
A laugh fell from Jackson’s lips completely unrestrained. It was Elliot’s favourite sound.
“Never change, Princess.”
Elliot smiled at Jackson through hooded eyes, and he was leaning in to kiss him when a loud voice interrupted his bliss.
“Jackson?” Darius’s voice echoed through the apartment.
“Be very quiet,” Elliot whispered.
Jackson rolled over lazily, his expression still slightly dazed. “Why is he so loud?”
Elliot didn’t answer, just tossed a towel at him, and once he’d checked that Hewitt wasn’t still lurking in the corridor, ushered him into the shower.
The next morning, Elliot trained alongside the rest of the team. He felt good. Not back to where he’d been before London, but he was feeling good enough that the fact that he wouldn’t be racing here was starting to sting.
Jackson was in incredible form. Not only was he at his absolute physical peak, but he seemed to light up every space he walked into.
Cameras caught him mid-laugh, and other athletes were drawn into his orbit.
Elliot couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop the pride that swelled in his chest every time he saw Jackson pose for a photo. Because Jackson Jennings was his.
He tried not to let his jealousy encroach on the joy, but it was hard to keep it at bay.
Elliot hated himself for it. Hated the twist in his stomach when he saw Jackson’s smile burn bright for everyone else.
Hated that he couldn’t swoop in and declare their relationship for all the world to see.
Elliot wondered if he’d ever be able to do it.
If they could ever be everything Jackson wanted them to be.
Stefan was there, in the village, as were many of the athletes they’d met at camp, but Jackson avoided them, just nodding hello when they passed in the corridors.
Elliot knew it was for his benefit, and he was grateful for it—he didn’t think he could stand to see anyone flirt with Jackson without turning completely feral.
In an effort to calm the jealousy burning in his gut, Elliot watched Chris. He was jittery, and Elliot couldn’t help where his brain immediately went at the sight. His father had all but confirmed what Chris had been doing before London, but surely he wouldn’t risk anything now.
When Elliot asked how he was, Chris brushed him off with easy grins that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Nerves,” he said. But Elliot wasn’t stupid.
The knowledge sat in Elliot’s gut like lead.
He didn’t say anything—didn’t know if he could.
What if he was wrong? It would look like he was trying to push his way in, to take Chris’s spot.
He wondered at Anders’s insistence on naming him as an alternate even after he knew Jackson would make it.
Wondered if it pointed to suspicions about Chris, or if he really was just covering all his bases.