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 wantmylegacy 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 youbecauseyou 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?”
