They reached the site they’d camped at the night before in record time, and Jackson started a small campfire, having had the forethought this time to gather the supplies and prepare the fire before night truly fell. He got it going while Owens busied himself setting up his own tent, the two of them working in silence. Sparks danced up into the evening sky as he coaxed the logs into a steady crackle. Owens moved with surprising efficiency considering his inexperience. Silence hung between them, broken only by the snap of twigs and the hiss of the fire.
Owens stepped closer, letting the heat wash over him. Jackson noticed how he shifted, as though seeking warmth from more than the flames
“Did you want to ring your sister?” he asked, holding his phone out.
Jackson turned to look at him, seeing the firelight gilding his delicate features, making him look ethereal. “I rang after dinner.”
“Oh. Ok then.”
“Thanks, though.”
Elliot nodded. “Switzerland, right?” he whispered. Birds chirped in the trees, and the fire crackled merrily. Jackson swallowed hard. He couldn’t stop watching Elliot’s stupid pink lips.
“We should finish getting the tents up,” Jackson said, breaking the tension.
Elliot startled. “Tents, plural?”
“Yeah.” Jackson indicated his pack. “That’s a new one. The hotel charged me for the damage and made me leave a fucking massive deposit for this one. Probably would have been cheaper to buy my own in town.”
“Oh.” Elliot shifted on his feet like he had something to say, but no further words came.
“I’ll just have to be extra careful I don’t damage another one.” Jackson laughed, trying to ease the strange tension brewing between them.
“Want me to set it up for you?” Owens asked, a smirk twisting his features.
“Ha ha. One night of camping and you’re the expert?”
“Well, I didn’t damage my tent beyond repair.” Owens shrugged.
Jackson didn’t exactly have a retort to that. He went to open the pack. Despite the bravado, he was actually a bit nervous about ruining another tent—he couldn’t afford to lose that deposit. His hesitance must have shown in his cautious movements because Owens made a soft grunting sound.
“If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.” Jackson turned, facing Owens. The sun had dipped below the horizon, but the fire bathed their small clearing in soft light.
“We could share again,” Owens said quickly, leaving Jackson lost for words. “So you don’t risk losing your deposit.”
“You want me to share your tent again?” Jackson asked.
“It’s already set up, and it’s dark now and cold. It’ll be harder to do yours.”
Jackson hummed. “That’s a very logical argument, Owens.” He moved closer.
"Plus, there are wolves. I researched. Lots of wolves out here, in the woods…" Elliot swallowed. Jackson watched his Adam's apple bob.
“You want me to protect you from the big bad wolves, Princess?" he asked, moving closer still. He paused in front of Elliot. "Are you sure that won’t be too much for you?” Jackson couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of his tone.
“Oh, it will be,” Elliot whispered. “Way too much.”
There was a beat of silence between them. Elliot’s piercing eyes met his as he closed the distance between them in two quick strides, and then Elliot was on him, their lips meeting as he pulled at Jackson’s jacket, dragging him closer until they were practically fused together.
Elliot pushed him backwards, mouth fierce, as if each kiss was burning through something he’d spent years barricading shut. Jackson stumbled into the tent, dragged along by the fist in his jacket, and the moment they were inside, Elliot crowded into his space again, all hot breath, trembling hands, and the sharp sound of fabric snagging as he tried to get closer, closer still. Whatever had been holding him back was gone; what was left was need, raw and consuming, pouring out of him faster than Jackson could keep up with. Jackson could barely think, barely breathe; all he could do was cling to Elliot’s waist and try to keep up as the man devoured him. By the time Jackson’s brain caught up, Elliot was already mouthing at his throat, fingers curling in the fabric at his collar.
“Are you sure?” Jackson heard himself ask.
“Can I take this off?” Elliot sounded wrecked as he whispered into Jackson’s skin and tugged at his shirt.
“Fuck yes.”
“Eager?”
