The beauty of St. Moritz hadn’t hit him the way it had last time. Maybe it was because he’d seen it all before, or maybe it was because Elliot wasn’t there with him. Darius and Chris were fine. But Darius spent half his time video calling Jamie and Chris was so nervous and erratic that he could hardly be called good company.
Jackson jogged along the trail. Every bend in the path reminded him of Elliot: the way he moved; that sharp, teasing grin. It was like a pull in his chest he couldn’t shake.
They weren’t speaking. Not any more than necessary. Not since the club. Jackson hadn’t tried to reach out. He couldn’t. Seeing him at the track had been painful in a way Jackson wasn’t sure he could handle much more of. Leaving London, leaving him behind, should have felt like a relief, but every corner of this place was filled with him, and the memory of Elliot telling him he had nothing to give played on loop, far sharper than the mountain air.
By the time he returned to camp, the group he’d been spending most of his time with was stretching near the gym.Stefan, his friend from back in April, was leaning casually against the railing, his gaze lingering on Jackson with a smile.
“Hey, Jennings,” Stefan called, jogging over. “You’ve been like a ghost. Want some company?”
Jackson smiled politely but didn’t stop adjusting the straps on his running vest. “I've been focused. Big weeks coming up, you know?”
Stefan chuckled, stepping a little closer. “Focused, huh? Or do you need to release some tension?”
Jackson stiffened, ignoring the teasing, and stepped past him. “I’ll catch you later,” he muttered, brushing him off entirely. Stefan’s grin faltered slightly, but he didn’t press further. Jackson moved to the far side of the building, pretending to tie his shoes, every ounce of energy he had going into keeping his thoughts in check.
Once he was out of sight, he let himself sink against the cold wooden wall, phone in hand, and rang Katie.
“Jackson! You look even rougher than usual,” she said, smiling through the screen. “What’s up?”
Jackson laughed, though he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s…complicated.”
Katie’s brow arched. “Complicated? That’s code for someone cute is making you miserable, isn’t it?”
He sighed. “Hypothetically.”
“Hypothetically?” she teased. “So…hypothetically, who do I need to punch? ”
"It's not like that. He—I—it's…circumstances."
"It's not Darius, is it? I thought you two were alright?"
Jackson almost laughed. "God, I wish it were that simple, Kate. It's definitely not Darius. I just…I need him, but we can't…"
Katie shrugged. "Seems like what you need is to not be a miserable git, and maybe getting laid on the regular would help with that."
"Hush, you." Jackson laughed. "I am as far from a miserable git as humanly possible. Ask anyone."
"Alas, they don't know you like I do, Mr. Media."
God, if that didn't make him think of Elliot and his perfect media-trained responses masking so much pain. The ache in his chest twisted painfully as he stared out at the mountains. “Yeah, almost no one does.”
"Transparent much? Cause that sounds like you mean no one except him."
Jackson didn't reply.
“Careful, Jackson. That’s called love. Or something very close to it.”
He pressed the phone to his chest, letting the words sink in. Love. Not just lust, not just longing. Real, painful, impossible love. It was like now that she'd named it, it was obvious. Didn’t matter though, did it? There was no future for him hiding in the background. But maybe love was worth it? He honestly wasn’t sure anymore.
Once he’d ended the call he wandered aimlessly through the hotel, making his way to the banks of the crystalline lake. He watched the ripples in the water and wondered if he could do it, if he could be someone's secret again. If loving him would make it different this time.
Darius approached, settling beside him on the grass, his expression serious but warm. His best friend had seemed lighter lately, like love had taken a weight from his shoulders that he’d carried for years. It made Jackson wonder if he’d ever get there, to a place where he felt confident in everything: his relationship, his place in the world, his spot in the Olympics.
“You’ve been quiet,” Darius said, scanning Jackson’s face. “And I’ve never seen you shoot down an obvious come-on like that. Is everything okay?”
Jackson shrugged, looking out the window at the mountains. “Just thinking.”
Darius nodded, following his gaze. “Your dad?”
