Work Text:
During that summer, as Nick began to spend more time with Gatsby and still found out nothing about him, he realized that whenever he got close to discovering the truth, his friend would go off and say something interesting or philosophical, and end it by calling him “old sport.”
Gatsby did call everyone that, but Nick was starting to realize that it was more a nervous habit than a conscious decision. But, due to the fact that the millionaire always addressed him like that, Nick was pretty sure that the man had forgotten his real name.
Gatsby did not take names lightly, either. He always used a formal “miss” or “mister,” and Nick couldn’t remember even one time when the man had ever said someone’s first name.
So it came as a surprise to them both when one Sunday afternoon, as they were lounging next to the still unused pool, Gatsby turned to his neighbor and suddenly said “Would you care to go inside, Nick?” as he stood up.
Nick had a half a mind to reply yes, when Gatsby froze realizing what he had said. Both men looked at each other until Gatsby gave a short, nervous laugh. “I seem to have forgotten my manners, old sport.”
“It’s no problem,” Nick said, frowning at Gatsby’s sudden defense mechanism.
Gatsby smiled.
***
Later, neither of them would remember exactly what happened. It might’ve started when Gatsby laid a hand on Nick’s shoulder as they were standing on the stairs. It was just that, suddenly, the two men were practically gnawing at each other’s faces, frantically trying to make their way to the master bedroom. As the men fell on the bed, they became lost in each other.
Nick later thought about the way Gatsby’s lips had felt against his skin as they mouthed hungrily down his throat, stopping to nip at his collarbone. He thought about the feeling as Gatsby slipped inside of him and the immense pleasure that followed. He thought about afterwards, as they both lay in their drying sweat and cum, how Gatsby had kissed him sleepily and whispered “Nick…Nick…” over and over again until they drifted off.
He thought about all those things every time he went to one of Gatsby’s parties, and danced with Jordan Baker, and caught Gatsby’s eye across the room. He thought about it as Gatsby pulled him close and whispered “Having fun, old sport?” into his ear. But he stopped thinking about it as soon as Gatsby’s lips touched his as the millionaire pulled Nick along the hall, looking for the one room that contained the promise of new things to think about and new memories to form.