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“Let’s go out.”
“Go out?”
“Sure. I know some brilliant places to eat. My treat.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course!”
Gatsby graced Nick with that flashy smile, and immediately the latter found any denial leave him.
It had been about a week since the incident at the warehouse and Nick and Gatsby had resigned to staying at the mansion for a while, spending as much time as possible together; after all, last weeks episode had left Nick quite shaken, and Gatsby didn’t have it in him to push him out of his comfort zone. They’d all been shaken, quite frankly.
Both had agreed to not talk about it, and should the subject come up, they’d simply refer to it as the incident. Nothing more...nothing less.
Besides, ever since asking Nick out (or did Nick ask him out? It was more of a mutual agreement, Gatsby supposed) he’d only really taken Nick out twice - they’d spend most their time together at the mansion which kept them happy enough, since Nick still had work to go to.
They were currently sitting in the library together; Gatsby was going over some papers at his desk, wearing his glasses (which Nick simply ADORED) and Nick was by the fireplace, revelling in the warmth it provided. Gatsby had been watching his boyfriend with a small smile growing on his face. This was exactly why he called Nick a kitten. He acted like one in every way imaginable. And Gatsby loves him for it. That feeling in his chest as he thought of Nick was a feeling he once had years ago for Daisy - a feeling that had died between them, and yet had blossomed for his adorable neighbour.
He never wanted that feeling to die between them. Gatsby would nurture it and cherish it and care for it. He would do anything for Nick.
“Anything for you.”
Gatsby added, standing up and walking over to kneel next to his kitten.
Nicks cheeks turned pink, making his face seem honey-speckled in the firelight.
“You always know what to say, you dumb romantic.”
Nick mumbled, covering his cheeks with his hands. Gatsby pulled them away and brushed his lips against Nicks.
“We’ll go tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at your place in the evening. Say....seven?”
“Alright. It’s a date.”
“Yes....it’s a date.”
~
Nick opened his wardrobe at 6:30pm to see what to wear. He looked over to the corner and saw a bottle-green suit that he’d never worn before, and thought that Gatsby might like it. Besides, he didn’t have much else to wear that Gatsby hadn’t seen before, and he wanted something...new. Breath-taking would be a stretch - Gatsby was always breath-taking, it was difficult to even measure up to him.
Some gold cuff links and his watch completed the look. The watch had been gifted to him during his time in the war by a friend; this friend had also been a homosexual, so naturally they were very close. Never romantically, but platonically...yet there had always been a bond of...knowing.
A quick glance in the mirror told Nick that he looked fairly decent - he debated on gelling his hair, but eventually decided against it, since he was having a good hair day; why not show that off?
Nick looked over at his clock for what seemed like the millionth time that night.
6:37.
It’d been seven minutes since he’d last checked the clock. Why was time moving so slowly?!
“A watched pot never boils, Nicholas.”
His mother’s voice wafted into his head, and Nick groaned. Of course, it wasn’t out of nervousness that he was constantly checking...simply excitement. Nick hardly went out on dates, especially with Gatsby, for obvious reasons: men like themselves were positively illegal. Regarding the...incident, as well, neither men had travelled far from home (and each other) for a while.
So this date was going to be a breath of fresh air for both.
Nick couldn’t help but wonder what Gatsby had planned. He hoped there wouldn’t be any large crowds, as such - it was difficult being around so many people without the liberty of being themselves. A quiet evening on the Sound sounded (pun intended) marvellous - just him, Jay and the stars; at the end of the night, only themselves and the sky knew what they’d been up to.
‘You’re like a little school girl in love, aren’t you?’
He teased himself, thoughts betraying inner desires. Another swift glance to the clock was enough to make Nick almost squeal like one.
6:55. Gatsby would be on his driveway in five minutes. To pick him up. For a date.
A date with Jay Gatsby.
It was difficult for Nick to convince himself he was dating such a perfect man sometimes, it felt so surreal. Nick often wondered what he did to deserve such a wonderful man in the first place.
‘Good things come to those who wait.’
His mother’s voice tiptoed through his mind again and he rolled his eyes. His mother always seemed to be right, one way or another.
~
Gatsby was shaking in pure delight as he approached the small, rickety house next to his own. He had such an evening planned, and was sure that Nick would love it. And if he didn’t, Nick would probably pretend he loved it anyway. He was awfully kind like that, after all.
Gatsby reaches up to the knocker and knocked thrice, trying to contain his excitement and put on that dashing persona he was well known for. Not that he had to keep up that pretence around Nick, but no matter.
~
When Nick heard the knocks he practically fell off his bed in uncontrollable delight. He really was acting like a school girl, Nick supposed.
“Coming!”
He quickly called, rushing downstairs and opening the doors, cheeks flushed with pink. The small lamplight above his door seemed to make his skin glow, and Gatsby felt a little part of his heart melt away.
“Jay.”
“Nick...”
They stared at each other for a moment; Gatsby drinking in the view before him (ecstatic that Nick was wearing the green suit he saw when he was sick a while back) and Nick staring at the dashing navy blue suit Gatsby was wearing - it seemed to sparkle like shooting stars and mirrored his ocean sapphire eyes. He eyes drifted to the bouquet of pink roses in Gatsby’s arm.
“Oh Jay, you shouldn’t have...”
“Of course I had to, my darling, I know they’re your favourite.”
He smiled as Nick held them and breathed their scent in.
“Go put them in some water, and then we’ll go.”
Gatsby kissed Nicks cheek, and the latter nodded, going into the kitchen. He heard rushing water and a slight rustle of leaves, and then Nick returned, rolling down his sleeves, shutting and locking the door.
“Alright, I’m ready.”
Gatsby linked his arm in Nicks and took him over to his car, a dashing Rolls in red. The yellow one had been...gotten rid of, after the whole Wilson affair. It was a horrible reminder of that summer and it’s events.
He opened the door for him, and Nick slipped in the passenger seat,
“So where are we going?”
Nick asked as the car started. Gatsby smiled.
“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”
He chuckled as the car shot out of the driveway. They, notably, slowed down when they got to the Ash City. Nick saw Gatsby’s hands tense a little as they passed Wilson’s garage.
The whole ordeal had been shocking. When Myrtle Wilson died, Tom convinced Wilson that Gatsby had been the one that killed her. Wilson came after Gatsby with a gun but thankfully missed his shot, hitting Gatsby in the shoulder. The wound was not fatal; much unlike the hole made in Wilson’s head after he’d committed suicide.
When the police questioned Gatsby about what had happened, he took full responsibility for everything...but there were too many witnesses on the day that had seen Daisy driving the car. By the time any action had been taken however, the Buchanan’s had moved to a place unknown...the case was dropped.
Nick had faithfully been by Gatsby’s side the whole time, of course, and would gladly remain by his side forever.
He put a gentle hand on top of Gatsby’s.
“It’s over. You don’t have to worry about it anymore...”
Nick quietly reassured Jay as they passed. The latter nodded quietly, not saying anything out of respect, and they continued to drive, the mood lightening when they made it to the heart of New York City. The car pulled up by a fancy looking restaurant on the corner of a long line of shops. It was a sweet little place, decorated with fairy lights, unlike the other places which had nauseating bright lights.
Gatsby got out the car first and opened the door for Nick, who looked around quickly to make sure no one was near before kissing his boyfriend’s cheek.
“Thank you.”
He politely smiled, and took Gatsby’s arm when it was offered to him.
Nick had to admit that he was hesitant. He didn’t like being this open in public, and although he knew that Gatsby had a small influence over the police force, he didn’t feel comfortable and was afraid of being ridiculed by the public. It was a scandal to be a homosexual in this time. But...if Gatsby was okay with being open, he would trust him.
Any fear left him when the entered the restaurant. It was completely empty, save for a small table in the corner with a candle standing dutifully on it. On every window sill there were candles, some tall and other stout, lit, lighting the room with a soft syrup-like glow and warming the area. All the other tables had been cleared away, leaving a large open space, where some musicians were sitting with their instruments. It was as if the couple had been transported to another world, and the hustle and bustle of urban life and its prejudices had been locked up, and the key thrown away.
Nick gasped when he walked in, a hand raised to his mouth in shock. It was beautiful. There were no crowds or loud noises or rowdy people. There were no blinding lights or claustrophobic spaces. It was a space for Nick and Jay to be themselves. It was....perfect.
“Do you like it, my love?”
Gatsby asked, linking his hand with Nicks free one. Nick could only nod slowly, his eyes welling with tears.
“I...I love it so much...it’s so pure...”
“I know that you don’t like my parties much because they’re too loud...so I took the complete opposite of that.”
“How...how did you do all this?”
Gatsby waved his hand nonchalantly as they began to walk over to the table.
“Oh, it was easy. I just bought it.”
“Bought the table..?”
“No, no, bought the restaurant.”
“You BOUGHT the restaurant?!”
Nick stared at him in disbelief. Had Gatsby really just bought an entire restaurant so Nick could be happy?!
“Of course I did. And, there’s no need to worry about the staff. They’re all like us.”
Gatsby pointed to the musicians; two of the men kissed each other’s cheek whilst the woman seemed to be flirting with the waitress.
“So, my kitten, we can be ourselves.”
Gatsby pulled Nick to his chest and wrapped an arm around his waist. Nick pulled his arms up to Gatsby’s neck and chuckled.
“You’re such a romantic, you know that?”
“Anything for you, my sweet kitten.”
He spoke in a hushed voice, and leant down to kiss Nick gently. Nick returned the affection, and then pulled away
“As much as I’m enjoying this...I’m starving. I don’t suppose there’s any hope of some food?”
“Of course, my darling! You need only ask.”
They sat down at the table, chairs facing opposite each other, and Gatsby clapped his hands. A waiter came out bearing a tray of food for them both: Gatsby had salmon, and Nick had a chicken pie, his favourite dish. It reminded him of a time when he was a child, on a Sunday afternoon when their family would each eat a small pie around the table in their house.
“You know me so well.”
Nick grinned happily.
“Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.”
“Really, old sport? What gives you that impression?”
He asked with a smile before tucking into his dinner. Nick followed suit, talking after mouthfuls.
“Well...the pink roses, for a start. This place for second. My favourite dish as a third.”
Nick stopped to think for a moment.
“Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever told you my favourite flowers or meal. How did you find out?”
“Well, the meal was easy. We had it at your place once and you just seemed so happy. I didn’t know it was your favourite, but I knew you must’ve liked it a lot.”
His eyes glinted.
“The flowers were a trifle harder. I ended up asking Jordan a while ago. She said you’d mentioned it once in passing.”
“Oh right....actually, how is Jordan? I haven’t spoken to her in a while.”
“She’s alright. She mentioned that she’d found herself a girlfriend.”
The two talked for a while on different topics, as if this were a normal night they were spending at home. They laughed at jokes and smiled softly at sweet remarks. Nick was so lost in conversation he’d hardly even noticed that the musicians had started a soft melody until the talk died down. They’d both finished their respective meals by then and Nick found himself listening with his eyes closed. It was a beautiful, classical song, played with a piano, clarinet and violin.
“Can I have this dance?”
Gatsby asked gently, standing up and offering his hand to Nick. The smaller of the two nodded and stood, taking Gatsby’s hand and allowing himself to be taken to the centre of the empty floor. Gatsby places his left hand on Nicks hip and linked his right hand with Nicks left. Nick dropped his right hand onto Gatsby’s shoulder.
They slow danced for a while; beginning by looking into each other’s eyes, but ending with Nicks head laying against Gatsby chest, and the latter’s head resting on Nick’s.
“I could stay here forever...”
Nick murmured quietly, sighing as he listened to Gatsby’s heartbeat fall into ruthenium with the music. Gatsby simply hummed in agreement; he, too, was feeling an endless bliss for this moment.
Unfortunately, the song had to end eventually (even if the musicians had extended it massively at a wave of Gatsby’s hand when Nick wasn’t looking) and the couple drew apart, keeping their hands locked together though.
“Thank you, Jay...you dance wonderfully.”
“You’re much better at it than I, Nick.”
Gatsby walked over to the table and picked up Nick’s coat.
“Shall we?”
He asked, and Nick put his arms through the sleeves, Gatsby pulling it onto his shoulders.
After a few ‘thank you’s’ to the musicians and chefs, they were climbing into the car and driving off back towards West Egg. Yet, to Nick’s surprise, as he saw the mansion climbing over the horizon, with its glorious lights causing stars to disappear...they shot past the driveway.
“Where are we going?”
Nick asked curiously, watching the mansion disappear behind them. Gatsby’s eyes twinkled knowingly.
“Old sport, we never had desert, remember?”
“I suppose not...?”
Nick wondered aloud, looking ahead as he speculated on where they could be going.
Not many people know that West Egg, before reaching the mainland, rounded off to form a cliff that overlooked the ocean. Gatsby had bought that strip of land and put benches there, about four years ago, to create a spot where people could go to relax.
The car pulled up a few meters away, and Gatsby took Nick’s hand as he climbed out the car, holding it tightly as they both scrambled up the hill. Nick couldn’t help but laugh as Gatsby tripped over a twig, which simply set them both off, giggling and smiling all the way up the hill towards the crest.
At the top, the benches had been moved to the side, and in the small clearing was a picnic blanket and a basket, with a lantern in the middle. The scene opened out to show the night sky at its fullest - every star, be it minor or major, a galaxy or planet, seemed to be on display for their eyes only. The moon showed her beautiful face, her misty hair combed and ready for Nick and Gatsby’s delight.
Inside the wicker basket were strawberries coated in dark chocolate. Nick’s mouth watered at the sight, despite eating a half hour before.
“What do you think?”
A baritone voice asked next to Nick, and he turned around to kiss Gatsby’s cheek.
“I think I’m being spoiled.”
Nick chuckled, as Gatsby rolled his eyes and returned the kiss.
“Why have so much money if I don’t use it?”
He asked teasingly, and they sat down on the blanket together, gazing up at the stars. Gatsby watched Nick as his face filled with wonder at the view. His love for this man was so indescribably huge. His love for this man extended out beyond the far reaches of the galaxy. And if Nick ever asked, he would buy every star in the sky and give it to him wrapped in a little red bow.
They took it in turns eating strawberries and watching the stars. Although, Gatsby spent most the time watching Nick, only glancing at the stars when Nick happened to look his way. About the third time this happened, Nick flicked off the lantern, throwing them into a somewhat hazy darkness. The gaps in the overhanging trees cast small pools of light to spill onto each other’s faces, but neither of them needed light. They knew each other’s bodies like the back of their hands.
Nick crawled into Gatsby’s lap, running his fingers through those beautiful golden locks and pressing their lips together. Gatsby hummed happily, loving the taste of strawberries and chocolate, putting his hands on Nicks waist. He pushed his tongue between Nicks lips, as if requesting permission, and the latter opened his mouth, letting Gatsby explore it, despite already knowing each gap and crevice. Nick lifted his chin a little, carding his fingers through the golden hair before allowing them to travel down Gatsby’s neck. Their breathing evened out slowly until the air was quiet apart from their quick breaths between kissing. Nick could feel Gatsby’s heart thrumming against his rib age, threatening to leap out.
“You know...I love when you get like this...”
Nick mumbled as his fingers pushed down Gatsby’s suit so he could kiss at his neck.
“Really, kitten?”
The latter mumbled quietly as he felt small nips around his shoulder. Nick smiled and pulled away.
“Really.”
He blushed a little, and Gatsby chuckled.
“I know you’d never admit it, but I think you secretly like your nickname, kitten.”
Nick rolled his eyes, but Gatsby could see a flash of delight run through his hazel brown eyes.
“Whatever...”
Nick mumbled into Gatsby’s chest, wrapping his arms around Gatsby’s neck. Jay wrapped his arms around Nick lovingly, protectively. They were there together in that moment; and nothing, nobody, could ruin it.
They left around ten; the night was getting colder and Nick was practically shivering. After denying three times that he was cold, Gatsby rolled his eyes and stood up, gathering the blanket and slipping it into the empty basket, his other hand snaking into Nicks.
“Did you enjoy everything tonight?”
He asked, and Nick smiled to himself.
“It was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, Jay. Thank you so much.”
As they got into the car, Nick grabbed a fistful of Gatsby’s shirt and passionately kissed him, before pulling away and sitting against the seat, satisfied.
“I’ll have to plan something exceptionally good for your birthday.”
Gatsby smiled mischievously.
“Oh, I’m sure I could think of one or two things...”