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Nick stirred awake in a bed much more comfortable than his own, with a blinding headache. He had no idea where he was and the headache made it impossible to think logically. He tried to blink his eyes open. It was much to bright in this room, he decided, whereever this room was. He groaned.
"You're awake." A voice, that Nick knew but couldn't name in his current state of just waking up, commented. "Take this."
Nick swallowed the pill presented to him and then collapsed back into sleep. When he woke again the headache was gone. He yawned as he stretched. He noticed that someone else was in the bed with him, sitting up, reading a newspaper. It was Gatsby. His heart raced. What had happened last night? He couldn't remember. Did he want to remember?
"Feeling better?" He asked putting the newspaper down.
"What happened last night?" Nick asked.
"You got blindingly drunk, found me, and started screaming at me. Luckily nearly everyone was gone at that point. I dragged you up stairs to avoid attracting too much attention from those remaining. When we got up here you yelled some more, then declared that you were tired and were going to sleep."
"What was I yelling about?"
"Daisy. Me. That, as you called it, damnable green light."
Nick put his face in his hands. "Oh God! What did I say? What did I tell you? Oh God! Oh God!"
Gatsby chuckled. "What's wrong, Old Sport?"
"Wait, I didn't tell yo-"
Gatsby cut him off by slamming their lips together. "That you're in love with me? Oh no, you made that quite clear."
Nick let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, as he threaded his fingers through Gatsby's hair. "Jay..."
"I love you, too."