“I take it all back. Your heel flick is too high, and you tense your left shoulder on corners.” Elliot very maturely stuck his tongue out at Jackson.
Chapter 25
Jackson
London, 16 days to the Olympic Marathon
He could do this. He could handle keeping quiet about their relationship until Elliot was ready. It was fine. Jackson was fine. He was on his way to Elliot’s place, excited to see where his boyfriend lived, but the excuse he’d given to Darius to ditch the Opening Ceremonies viewing party with their friends had been flimsy at best, and he was spiralling a tiny bit. Being with Elliot sometimes made Jackson feel unstoppable, but dropping his hand in public, trying not to smile too widely when Elliot left his most scathing critiques for him after training… It was bloody painful.
The worst of it was when he rang home.
His dad was on about building that damn shed again, and it made Jackson want to scream, but almost as bad was when his mum gently asked if he was seeing anyone. The denial felt like ash in his mouth, like it could be a prophecy that he didn’t want to come true.
There were just days until the team was due to fly out to the Olympics. Jackson knew his family wouldn’t make it, and he desperately wanted to ask Elliot if he would be there, becauseeven if he couldn’t do it openly, knowing someone was there on the sidelines cheering him on, knowing someone cared how his race went, and believed he deserved to be there… Jackson knew that would make all the difference.
It felt like an insensitive thing to ask, though. Would Elliot want to hide away and avoid all Olympic news? Could Jackson really ask him to fly out to watch his secret boyfriend compete in the race he’d missed out on himself? Fuck, that wasn’t even considering Elliot’s fear of flying, which, though he tried to downplay it, Jackson knew was a major source of anxiety for him. It explained why he’d always flown out to the majors so early—he must have needed the recovery time. God, so many things that had irritated him about Elliot Owens in the past made sense now that he knew the real him.
He'd arrived in front of Elliot’s door. He buzzed, and Elliot flung it open almost immediately. He looked perfect.
“Hi.” Elliot smiled.
Jackson stepped over the threshold, pushing Elliot up against the wall. He bracketed his boyfriend's face with his hands and planted a kiss on his lips. “Hi,” he breathed, letting their foreheads rest against each other.
“I made dinner,” Elliot said. He threaded their hands together and led him into the flat.
Jackson took in the space. It was modern and exceptionally clean, with a mezzanine floor that he imagined was where Elliot’s bedroom was. He eyed the narrow, ladder-like steps up to it. “How did you navigate that while you were injured?”
“With great difficulty,” Elliot replied with a shrug. “Now, come on. Food.”
Elliot dragged Jackson through the room to where he’d set up his small dining table with what looked like a stereotypical romantic dinner for two. Candles, flowers, the works. The Opening Ceremonies were starting on TV and Elliot had angledthe table so they could both watch. It was sweet; sweet and thoughtful in a way no one would ever have expected from Elliot Owens. Jackson realised with a start that no one had ever done anything like this for him before.
He looked at his boyfriend, who was eyeing him, a hand nervously fussing with his blonde locks. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”
“Nah,” Jackson replied. “It’s perfect.”
“Will you watch the race?” Jackson asked. The question had been building inside him as they cuddled on Elliot’s sofa watching old race tape. The ceremonies had ended, and Jackson would have been lying if he'd said the spectacle hadn't brought a tear to his eyes. He'd be there soon, at the pinnacle of sporting excellence, ready to take on the world.
“What do you mean?” Elliot asked. “Of course I will. I watch all the major races.”
Jackson swallowed. “Of course. I meant… I meant…will you watch it in person?”
“Do you want me to?”
Jackson turned his head to respond. “Yeah, it’d be nice to know someone cared, you know? I don’t think my parents will be able to go, not with my da’s health this year, and the cost…” He let himself trail off, watching Elliot as silence hung between them.
“I…” Elliot looked like he was measuring his words. “I’ll try,” he finally replied.
Jackson’s heart ached, but that was the most he could ask for. He squeezed Elliot’s hand to try to show he understood. They were stretched out together, Jackson in front of Elliot, with Elliot’s arms holding him flush against his body while theyreviewed tape from the Boston marathon just a few months before.
“See this here—” Elliot paused the clip. “—it’s where Julien pulled ahead. He held that pace the rest of the race. I’d bet he uses the same strategy at the Games.”
Jackson nodded. Elliot was good at this—dissecting strategies, anticipating what his opponents would do.
“You’re right. We should anticipate that.”
Elliot pulled him closer. “I’ll come,” he said suddenly.
Jackson twisted around, nearly falling off the sofa in an effort to look his boyfriend in the eyes.
