Elliot started when he heard Jackson enter. “Thought you had left,” he said.
Jackson chose to ignore the bitter tone in his voice. He was going to be Elliot’s safe space, even if Elliot fought him every step of the way.
“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” He set the coffees down on the nightstand, then flopped gracelessly back down beside Elliot. “Good morning, Princess.”
Jackson placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, wrapping himself around Elliot’s warm body like a koala. He dove in for a proper kiss, but Elliot blocked him. “I’ve got morning breath.”
“Don’t care, want to kiss you.”
Elliot flushed all the way down to his neck, but he had a pleased little smile on his face, so Jackson was pretty sure he wasn’t too embarrassed. He kissed him again, slowly, drinking in every second. Jackson loved kissing Elliot, loved the slightly rough texture of his lips and the way he went all pliant in his arms. Elliot did have morning breath, but Jackson hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t care; he just wanted the chance to snog his…boyfriend, in bed. They traded kisses, languid, tender, and aimless as the morning sunlight slowly brightened the room.
When he eventually released him, Elliot let out a sweet little huff that made Jackson want to boop him on the nose. He didn’t though. He did not have a death wish that morning.
“Your coffee’ll get cold,” he said, propping pillows up against the headboard for them to lean against.
“And whose fault would that be?” Elliot grumbled as he inched himself up into a seated position.
Jackson handed him his coffee, and he looked like he was about to launch into another snarky tirade, but then he paused, a soft “Oh” escaping his mouth.
Elliot stared at the coffee in silence for a beat, and Jackson was about ready to start profusely apologising for…something.
“You got it really frothy,” he said. His voice filled with heartbreaking awe.
“That’s how you like it, isn’t it?”
Elliot smiled shyly at him. “I didn’t think you’d noticed.”
“I notice everything about you.”
That lovely pink flush came back, staining Elliot’s cheeks. “I can never get it like this myself. Always end up buying one somewhere.”
He took a tentative sip. A foam moustache clung to his upper lip, and he smiled at Jackson again. Jackson couldn’t tear hiseyes away as Elliot’s tongue darted out to lick off the froth. He vowed to himself then and there to make him coffee every morning for the rest of their lives.
“It’s good,” Elliot said. “Thank you.”
Jackson’s heart wasn’t going to make it. This one simple moment felt like winning gold.
“About last night…” Elliot started.
Jackson grinned. “Mm, what about it?” Last night had been fucking incredible. Being with Elliot when he knew it was more than just a hookup, when he knew it wasn’t the last time he’d get to have him. It was epic.
Elliot rolled his eyes. “I meant earlier. About me coming to watch the race.” Elliot set his coffee down to grip Jackson’s hand. “Are you sure you’d want me there? Even if we can’t be public?”
“I told you before—I don’t expect you to come out. That hasn’t changed.”
“It should change, though, shouldn’t it?” Elliot asked. “I should be able to give you that.”
“This is enough for now, Ell. I’m not going to say it isn’t hard, but I’m just happy to be here with you. I thought we’d never have another chance. Never be anything more thancasual.” God Jackson hated that fucking word.
Elliot swallowed. “I’m sorry for that. I never wanted casual with you either, I just didn’t think I could ever get there.”
“And now?”
“I will. Someday. But I…I don’t know when.”
Jackson pulled him close, breathing in his scent. “You were so sure before that we could never… Am I allowed to ask what changed?”
Elliot set his glasses gently on the nightstand before twisting to look at him. “Of course you are,” he replied. But then he fell silent for a moment, breaking eye contact as he looked offinto the distance, unblinking. “For a long time, I believed that something I did had ruined my father’s career. Everyone was saying he was our best shot at an Olympic marathon medal that year, and we all knew it was the last Olympics he had in him. I was fourteen at the time, so he’d have been thirty-eight. The oldest on the team, but also the fastest. I hung around the training grounds a lot. I idolised him back then and wanted to be as fast as he was one day.” Elliot huffed. “There was this boy… Not too much older than me, maybe sixteen. I thought he was working there for a summer job. He was, like, painfully cool.”
