Chapter Text
“No, no old sport. I insist. I can get my own glass.”
Once inside his house, Nick had very tiredly offered Jay a drink. He personally knew he needed one. However Jay doesn’t drink, and Nick was fine just fetching the other man a cup of water, but he insisted that he do it himself so as to “not be a bother”.
It was much more of a bother to explain to Jay where everything in his kitchen was so he could get his own glass, but his stubbornness was equally as endearing as it was frustrating and he only managed to break one glass, so Nick just smiled on fondly.
Now they were sitting on Nick’s modest couch together, drinks in hand, while Jay rambled about…something. Nick was having a difficult time focusing on his words. He was trying to figure out how to tell Jay Daisy was leaving him without making Jay suicidal, if such a thing was even possible. At a certain point, he was just blankly staring at the other man’s mouth with a halfassed smile on his face, panicking internally. How could he ever believe he could tell Jay this. Nick was far too selfish for that, to crush Jay’s wonderful happiness that he loved so much, that only ever seemed to truly emerge when Daisy was around. Anytime he smiled at anyone else it just seemed like a dull imitation.
“-old sport?” Jay furrowed his brow and looked into Nick’s eyes.
Nick fumbled, and suddenly became aware that staring at Jay’s mouth might not be interpreted in the most heterosexual light by the other man, “Oh, so sorry Jay. I’m afraid my mind completely left me. It’s been a long day. Now what were you saying?”
“You told the police that you left your hat. I saw you take it,” Jay said, narrowing his eyes the slightest bit, “Why did you actually come back to my house?”
No. Not right now. Nick was supposed to have the time to think and prepare for this. Right now he has nothing to say to blunt the pain. Nothing but a bottle of brandy resting on the ground that Jay would refuse to touch.
Taking a swing, Nick braced himself for this. He couldn’t back down, not this time, “It’s actually quite the story Jay,” He started, looking Jay in the eyes and trying to show on his face how much Nick cared for him.
“I was on my way to work when suddenly I felt the intense desire to speak to you, to make sure everything was okay. Forgive me for worrying, but I was correct. I departed the train at a station on the East Egg and…went to the Buchanan’s. They…they’re moving, Jay. I don’t doubt that they’re already out of the country. Before they left, they said something to me. I asked about you and Tom said that I, specifically, had nothing to worry about. The way he said it…I thought that maybe they had gone to the police. But the look on Daisy’s face—Jay I’m sorry—she knew. She knew that George was going to kill you. Jay…I’m so sorry,”
Jay’s face had gone concerningly blank as Nick’s story drew to a close. With a voice completely devoid of all human emotion—no warmth or anger or bitter tears—he replied:
“No she didn’t.”
“Jay,” Nick said slowly, having anticipated this reaction but still not knowing what to do about it, “She did. She knew.”
“No,” Jay said, more forceful this time, “She didn’t. Tom’s blinded her you see, she doesn’t know what she thinks.”
“JAY,” Nick shouted as all his frustrations bubbled to the surface of his being, screaming to be unleashed on the world, “she knew. I’m sorry but she…she doesn’t love you. Not enough to leave Tom. You can’t…you shouldn’t live in this fantasy word anymore Jay. She almost got you murdered for fuck’s sake.”
“NO!” Jay shot up from the couch, shaking, but Nick couldn’t tell if it was from rage or crushing sadness, “YOUR WRONG NICK! YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING,” his voice broke with watery tears.
“Jay—” he started, but got cut off.
“You couldn’t understand,” Jay emphasized, “I–well…even if she knew, she’d never go along with it. She must have…must have looked that way on purpose. So you would come. She can’t do anything against her brute of a husband—I mean really, we’re wasting all this time worrying about me when Tom’s taking her to a different country to do god-knows-what she could be in danger old sport I need to go check on her,” His incomprehensible, pure cope had Jay rushing out of the house, but Nick grabbed his wrist.
He looked the other man in the eyes, and begged him to understand, “Jay, you're acting crazy. You have to let go, please—”
Tears were streaming down Jay’s face now, as he desperately tried to escape Nick’s grip.
“JAMES,” Nick grabbed Jay’s face, “Snap out of it! She doesn’t love you, she doesn’t care—at least not nearly enough—and if you keep pursuing this wild dream you will. Get Yourself. Killed,” he brought the other man’s face closer to his and slumped down with a sigh of pure exhaustion.
“Please Jay, don’t die for this. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Nick breathed, as one last plea to the wild, crying, desperate man in front of him.
Jay stared at him, mouth open, with uneven breaths that stuttered every once in a while, before falling forward into Nick’s waiting arms.
He shook with sobs as he said, “You know Nick, I would have. I would have taken a bullet for her. I would have gladly died for her. I just didn’t think she’d be willing to kill me,” Jay’s voice broke as his words dissolved into meaningless wails.
The weight of the other man against him and the warmth of his tears was the only thing keeping Nick tethered to reality. He went through the motions of comforting Jay while his mind was somewhere above both of them—somehow both devastated by everything that’s transpired in the past day and relieved. Relieved that this charade of Jay’s was finally over. He didn’t deserve to live a lie.
Once Jay’s breathing calmed, he reluctantly let the other man out of his arms. Jay pulled himself up, wiped his face on his sleeve, and let out an awkward chuckle before asking Nick if he was still up for a drink. Nick didn’t even let him finish his thought before inviting him to sit back down.
They were closer on the couch than they were before, their thighs pressed up against each other’s. Jay grabbed Nick’s half full glass and took a sip of the remaining brandy, grimacing slightly at the taste.
“How can I pay you back, old sport?” Jay asked, eyes focused on his cup.
Then, he raised his head fast and looked at Nick, “Anything you want Nick, anything at all, and I’ll have it for you. Maybe a better bottle of brandy for saving my life?” He gestured to his glass, trying to joke.
“Do you think your life is worth a good bottle of brandy?” Nick asked, genuinely concerned.
“Uh,” Jay floundered for a moment, looking around, “A new car?”
Jay tossed out a couple more suggestions while Nick stared at the stupid, stupid man in front of him.
“Jay,” Nick started, grabbing the other man by the shoulders, “Your life is not worth a bottle of brandy, or a car, or the finest jewels in the world. You cannot give me anything more than what I already have in exchange for tackling you into that pool, so don’t bother to try.”
“The hell have you gotten from all of this?”
“You,” Nick stated the fact that he thought was extremely obvious.
Jay didn’t say anything to that, but in the pregnant pause between them Nick could see his eyes watering. He looked so genuinely, deeply touched that Nick couldn’t resist pulling the other man in for an embrace. Jay didn’t decline, and in fact just wrapped his arms around Nick in return, so he relished in their contact.
“Ah…Nick?” Jay said into his shoulder.
“Yes?”
“Do you mind if I stay the night? I…can’t really bare the thought of being alone in that massive house right now,”
Nick squeezed the other man tighter and deadpanned, “If you think I’m letting you out of my sight after today you should think again.”
He felt a faint laugh from Jay, but he wasn’t joking in the slightest. Come next morning, he realized how literal his words had become, as he and Jay fell asleep on that couch—fully clothed—practically on top of each other.
He always admired, very intensely admired—one could even say adored—Jay’s faith in romance. But now, waking up next to the man, Nick could very confidently say he understood that unwavering devotion.