It was just that Elliot had never been treated like this before. With tenderness and care. Like he was worth more than a quick mouth to use in a club or an anonymous fuck in a cheap hotel.
Gently, Jennings pulled Elliot's shoe off and rolled the sock down. “It feels ok,” he said. “You swear you’ll say something if it gets worse?”
“Jennings, it’s nothing. I promise. This is precautionary.” He felt unstable, and it had nothing to do with his weakened ankle. Jennings had to be doing this on purpose, making himself impossible to ignore.
“I think you should get it checked out, just in case.”
Elliot huffed. No good doctor or physio would let him get away with training on an injury, not at altitude, and certainly not at the volume he needed to be putting in. “It’s nothing. I could still run circles around you.”
Jackson laughed as he finished taping the ankle to stabilise it and rolled Elliot’s sock back on. It just covered the edge of the tape.
“We should get back and drop this lot off.” Jackson gestured to the gear.
Elliot nodded. “And get some real breakfast before training.” The protein bar he’d demolished was not going to cut it. Not for the speedwork session Anders had in the calendar.
They walked leisurely towards the gondola to head back down to the town. Elliot slowed his steps even further as he realised that reaching their destination would mean the end of this little fantasy he'd been allowed to live in for one night. It wasn't even just about Jennings. It was peaceful here. So different to the chaotic bustle of his life in London.
They didn’t talk much on the way back to the hotel, but they didn’t separate either. Elliot wasn’t sure if he could keep his word and let things go back to the way they had been, because his entire being was thrumming with want.
Elliot watched a small film crew shooting an interview with a triathlete as they passed, and winced at the reminder of the press presence, the risk of exposure. But still, he couldn’t stop the undercurrent of desire that hummed under his skin as he followed Jackson to the storage area, where the front desk had told them to drop the camping equipment. He helped him sort it into the right piles and cupboards, each second vibrating with tension that was pulling so tight between them there was no way it wouldn’t snap. The sun was higher now, hitting the walls of the storage room through a single small window and casting long, golden streaks across the shelves. Elliot leaned against the wall, taking some weight off his ankle, which was throbbing now with the exertion of the hike back to the hotel.
“You going to be alright for speed work?” Jackson asked. It seemed to come out of nowhere, but when Elliot glanced overat him, Jackson was chewing on his bottom lip and looked genuinely concerned. It pulled Elliot back to earth in the worst way.
“Don’t worry about me, Jennings,” Elliot replied.
“Elliot—” Jackson started.
Elliot reeled back. “No, just because we fucked doesn’t mean you have a say in my life now, Jennings.” It came out rougher than he’d intended, but the sentiment stood.
“Didn’t think it did,” Jackson replied, crowding Elliot into the wall. "Thought I’d offer my services to take your mind off the pain.”
“It’s not that painful,” Elliot replied.
“No?” Jackson asked. His breath ghosted over Elliot’s nose as his body covered him. “So you don’t want anything from me?”
“I told you we can’t.” Elliot breathed out.
Jackson tilted his head and loomed closer still. “Oh, I know. I also know your eyes were burning a bloody hole in my backside the entire walk here.”
Elliot sighed, bringing his lips nearly level with Jackson’s, and he surrendered. All he had to do to capture Jackson’s lips in a searing kiss was tilt his head up an inch, so he did. After years of watching Jackson Jennings, it felt surreal to be allowed to touch him. To kiss him. He knew this was just a bit of fun, a mutual release of tension, but something had ignited in him—a deep need to be the only thing on Jackson Jennings’s mind. That competitive urge to be the best he’d ever had.
Elliot wrapped his legs around Jackson’s back, allowing the hands that had immediately gripped his arse to take his full weight as they ground against each other, kissing frantically. Their tongues twisted together, battling for dominance as they smashed up against the shelving. Camping equipment was digging into Elliot’s back, but he didn’t care. He should. He had meant it when he said they couldn’t do this. Shouldn’t. But hewas rationalising it quickly. Too quickly. Giving in to his baser urges and unable to convince any part of himself that the risk wasn’t worth it.
Then light cracked through the door.
They burst apart faster than either of them had ever moved. Flinging themselves to opposite sides of the small room. Elliot hadn’t yet managed to catch his breath when the door was thrown open completely.
“Jackson! Elliot!” A cheery voice with a strong Italian accent cut through the suffocating silence in the cramped space. “Have you enjoyed the camping? It is my favourite thing here.”
“Yeah,” Jackson replied, his eyes locked on Elliot’s. “Yeah, it was brilliant. Seems a shame not to get to experience it again.”
Elliot pushed past Ilaria and out of the storage room. She shot an obnoxious little wink at him that should have pissed him off, but his heart was racing so hard he barely registered it.
Before he left for his room, he turned to Jackson, a decision made that he hadn’t realised he’d been contemplating. “Maybe you will, if you want it bad enough,” he said, issuing it like a challenge as he darted away.
Chapter 15
Jackson
