A/N: Actually inspired from Gatsby Lives by Painfuljoy. This was actually a project I was doing in my English class but the sex is not included in there. For my class, it actually ends with Gatsby actually leaving and Nick doesn't hear from him until years later when he gets a wedding invitation but in this, it's gay.

Gatsby Alive

Nick thought of himself as a friend of Gatsby's while being in the city, and listing the quotations of the amount of stock he had to check. He was becoming dreadfully bored that he nearly fell asleep. He decided to stand up, stretch his arms, and rub his face with his hands to feel a burst of energy to continue, but his mind was numb with numbers. He thought about calling Gatsby to wake him up, but they just met for breakfast, so it may be a bit awkward.

"Are you alright Nick?" His boss clasped a hand on his shoulder with a look of concern. Nick shook his head with half lidded eyes. "Yes, I am. Just a little worried about my friend." His boss nodded his head in understanding. Nick just continued talking as he felt like it was waking him up, "Do you know Gatsby?"

His boss nodded more vigorously. "Everyone knows Gatsby!" he responded enthusiastically. "Why would you worry about a man like him?" He asked curiously. Nick smiled nonchalantly as he saw that the idea would be ridiculous if he hadn't known the problem. "He's been a little anxious these days." The man responded.

The boss mouthed a silent "Oh!" and then nodded vigorously again as if he completely understood. "Gatsby is a great man! Always threw the best parties!"

"You've been to his parties? I haven't seen you there." Nick thought back, and he couldn't have with all those people constantly moving around. His boss smiled, "That's because I'm always surrounded with beautiful ladies, and men looking for a job that I'm always all over the place! I practically run the party myself!" The man laughed. Nick just smiled not seeing the humor in that. And then his boss patted his shoulder, "You know what, Nick? Take the rest of the day off. A party can't happen without a host, and who's a better host than Gatsby?"

"Thank you, and I'll tell Gatsby that you send me on my merry way." Nick packed up his things. His boss laughed as he added, "And tell him to talk to me sometime! I actually never met the man himself!" His words contradicted, but Nick had other things to do.

The train wasn't to sent him back home wasn't going to arrive until thirty more minutes so he sat down on a bench with the city map behind it. A lovely lady in white ran over to where he was to look at the map. She looked anxiously at the map, and then sighed in relief with her hand on her bosom. The man looked at her with interested curiosity which she noticed.

"Oh, hello! I wasn't sure I was in the right part of the city, but I am! Now I just have to wait until my sister arrives. I'm Mariam." She sat down right next to him. Green eyes glittering, eyelids dusted with purple and lips red as rose petals certainly said a statement along with her seemingly bubbly personality.

"Nick." He raised his hand which she shook with excitement. She was definitely odd. "I'm waiting for my train to bring me home. I live in West Egg." He explained to start a conversation. "That must be wonderful! I live back in Oregon. A lovely place but always raining! It gets so cold and then so hot! It's like mother nature on her mood swings every season! Sorry for my blabber, I'm very anxious to see my sister!" She smiled brightly.

Nick wasn't offended by her oddness. He found it quite enlightening that he was fully awake. "It's no worry. I'm also anxious to see someone too." He reasoned. Mariam's face just lit up more than before. "Are you going to see your sister, too?" She questioned. Nick laughed shortly while he shook his head. "I'm actually going to go meet a friend. Do you know Gatsby?"

The woman was then frowning with her eyebrows knitted together. "I am sorry, I don't know who he is." She guiltily responded.

"You don't have to be." Nick quickly told her reassuringly. "You are new here. You'd love Gatsby's parties. Almost everyone goes there." The woman cocked her head in confusion. "What about Gatsby? What's he like?"

Nick gave her a small smile as he recollected the events before. "Gatsby is a nice guy. Very passionate. Hopeful...Um...Very..."

"Handsome, rich, distant, a bit mysterious." Mariam poured words into the statement for a finish making the man's smile bigger. "Yeah, he's crazy about my cousin, but she's married with a kid, and...a lot happened."

"Did her husband do something to Gatsby?" She questioned, and Nick shook his head. "No. He actually knows, but he..." The man couldn't find the right words. "What's wrong?" Mariam asked. "Do you not remember?"

"No, I do. It's just that my dad once told me that I shouldn't criticize someone because they weren't raised the same way I was raised. I don't want to say anything that I might regret saying later." Nick explained as he felt a sense of restraint of his resentment and guilt.

"So you don't want to criticize Gatsby, your cousin or her husband because you'd feel like the bad man, but don't you feel like an accomplice to this whole mess?" Mariam questioned him. Nick looked at her strangely, yet she smiled a knowing smile. "People lie when they say that silence is golden. If you don't speak the truth, then your just as guilty as everyone else for letting the wrong things happen. I don't want to criticize you, but I might be helping you more than I am helping myself because you need to say something. I don't know who you are Nick, but know this. A good friend let their friend make their own choices and mistakes, but a great friend stops his friend from making what is obviously a mistake. Oh, there's my sister!" She ran over to the woman as equally as beautiful as her. Yet, she turned around to say one last thing, "Good bye Nick!" And then she ran off to be possibly never seen again.

Nick pondered on her words, and continued to ponder on them as he finally got onto his train. He felt like her words were true, but he felt afraid to act on them. When he decided that he wouldn't, he felt that resentment and guilt. When he decided he would, he'd feel that fear of being shun. He's been silent for so long that being silent was easy as breathing.

When he got out of the train, he decided that he'd figure this out when he reached Gatsby's place. He walked passed the hedge to his mansion. He entered it with ease looking for him until he came across Klipspringer, the frequent guest in Gatsby's house, who told him where the man was. Nick walked in haste towards the pool to stand behind George who held a gun towards Gatsby. The only thing Nick could think of was to shout the name's name, "JAY!"

It wasn't a bright move. It surprised George that he turned around, and shot Nick himself. Nick fell to his knees after thunder rang turning him deaf from the world for a moment as his midsection was punched back, and the air was knocked out of his lungs. He fell entirely to the floor sideways as he felt a warm liquid seeped into his shirt spreading downward. His eyes were widened with shock while he breathed erratically. A second thunder was heard that there was a short state of panic that George might have shot Gatsby next. His world darkened before him.

The day after, Nick was sitting on his hospital bed being checked by the nurse. He was in fact shot in the midsection but it wasn't a vital wound. The bullet was removed, and then he was stitched up as good as new, but had to stay in the hospital to recover further. After the nurse left, Nick was given an unwelcome greeting from Tom and Daisy.

Daisy was in tears as she hugged him and screamed, "Oh, Nick! I was terrified when I heard you were shot!" She moved back taking out a handkerchief to wipe the tear streaked face, and then asked, "Are you okay?" The man knew she wasn't truly concerned for him, but he played along. "I'm alright Daisy. You should go freshen up." He told her, and was glad that she did agree to leave because she did want to look pretty even at a moment her looks shouldn't be a concern.

After she left, Tom held out his hand to him like a man. "Glad to see that you're doing well, Nick. What the matter, Nick? Do you object to shaking hands with me?" Nick glared at him as he knew who was partly responsible for the pain in his body. "Yes. You know what I think of you."

"You're crazy, Nick." he said quickly. "Crazy as hell. I don't know what's the matter with you."

"You lied to Tom that it was Gatsby who ran over Myrtle." I stated the truth. Tom looked around making sure that no one heard that even when they were in a closed room alone.

He then leaned forward as he pointed his finger at Nick. "Now you listen to me. He came to my home with that revolver in his hand in his own pocket. Crazy as hell! What was I suppose to do? Besides, he had it coming anyway. He made Daisy drive that car when she shouldn't have been doing that. And if you think I didn't have my share of suffering-look here, when I went to give up that flat and saw that damn box of dog biscuits sitting there on the sideboard, I sat down and cried like a baby. By God, it was awful."

Nick stared at the man and knew that he could never change Tom's mind because in his own head, he felt like what he did was entirely justified. So Nick shook Tom's hand. The man smiled and then said, "He should have died. It would've made everything easier."

Daisy came back only to be escorted out again by her husband. She acted like she didn't want to, but left without much of an argument.

Days later, he was discharged from the hospital with a clean bill of health, and then he went home. When he reached there, he noticed something strange about it, but figured it was because he hadn't been home for awhile that it seemed odd. He entered the house to see that it looked like it has been taken care of. Not a dust in sight and the furniture looked polished. It had the smell of fresh daisies but no flowers were in sight. He looked at his yard again from the window to see that the problem was that the grass hadn't changed at all. It had been taken cut.

There was a sudden knock on the door that face Gatsby's house. Nick opened it to see no one. Just a basket filled with a bottle of wine and a card. The card said, "Glad you're well, Old Sport. -Gatsby" Nick didn't expect anything more from Gatsby who has always been hopeful, but he has always been shy since he has no clue on how to calm his anxieties.

The more days passed, and Nick was left with more gifts each day. He was given a watch, new clothes, shoes, cigars that had the taste of cocoa, keys to a brand new car, workers to do his cooking, gardening and cleaning, and many more luxurious gifts he didn't truly want. Nick went to Gatsby's still going on parties to try to find the man, but he slyly stayed out of sight. It frustrated Nick that he sent notes to him through his workers to send to him, but he never replied back.

Until Nick finally decided to leave New York to go back to the Midwest when he decided to give up on ever encountering Gatsby again, did the man appear at his doorstep soaking wet in the rain. Nick was greatly surprised by this. "Jay, what are you doing in the rain? Why didn't you bring an umbrella with you?"

"The papers said it'd stop raining by four." The man said slowly as he couldn't make eye contact with the other. There was silence until Gatsby did look Nick in the eye.

"Would you like to come in?" Nick stepped aside for him to enter. The rich man stepped inside to the living room where he looked around as if he was interested. "Would you like some tea?" The bond seller asked, yet Gatsby shook his head.

There was further silence in the room until Nick offered him to sit. They sat and then there was more silence. The bond seller still expected no more from the rich man. "Daisy told me that you two are still seeing each other."

Gatsby looked at him as if he had just remembered that information. "Oh, uhm, yes, we have." He nodded hesitantly. The words felt right to say. "How are you doing, Old Sport?" He asked.

"Fine." Nick responded. He licked his lips as he decided to be honest. Something he should've done in the first place. "Gatsby, it's best that you forget Daisy. She's no good for you. Never have been."

The rich man full of secrets laughed. "No. You got it all wrong, Old Sport. Daisy and I-"

"Daisy and you will be nothing." Nick interrupted wanting to affirm what he's willing to say. "I'm sorry, but it's true. Tom and Daisy were willing to let you take the fall."

"No. No. I let myself take the fall for what happened."

"They were willing to let you be killed. Tom knew George was going to kill you."

"Good then. At least Daisy will be safe."

"Are you listening to yourself?"

"Don't you even dare say-"

"Daisy never loved you! I am not even sure she is capable of love!"

"Yes she is!" Gatsby stood up in anger. Nick stood up the same. "You haven't seen her for five years! She didn't wait for you! She didn't chose between the two of you because she likes to be in the lime light! Face it! The woman you love will never love you back! You are just her rebound!"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Gatsby had Nick by the collar, and then stared at him as if he had just killed someone himself. He let go of the man he did consider his friend to look away. He straightened and buttoned his jacket. "I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be like this."

Nick held Gatsby's shoulder. "Jay, you have to let go of the past. As your friend, I'm responsible for letting things come to this, and I don't want what happened to me to happen to you because you might have actually died that day. And I don't want that."

The rich man turned his head to Nick. "Do you actually mean what you say, Old Sport? All of it?"

The bond seller smiled sadly. "Yes." His friend looked away and then straightened his clothes once more before nodding. He walked toward the door. He opened it to see that the rain had stopped. He turned one last time, "Thank you...Old Sport."

That man walked out that door only to stop, turn around and then walk right back in to kiss Nick passionately on the lips. It was a full frontal assault that the bombs exploded in full force into foreign territory. Gatsby then withdraw to look at Nick who was opening his eyes to look at him. "I'm sorry."

"Me too." Nick kissed him back with more passion as if finding vengeance on the air force base that bomb his territory. Sparks certainly ignited in between them, and they didn't want to stop unless they desperately needed to breath.

The bond seller blindly led them to his room where there was only a single bed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. We'll fit." Gatsby pulled his tie out of his vest to let it loose before removing the rest of his garments. Nick did the same but more roughly than the gentleman did. When Gatsby was going for his belt, Nick stopped his hands to kneel before him. "Don't worry, I got this." He licked his lips making the very rich man very horny.

Nick undid his pants to pull it down and see quite a big bulge trying to free itself from itself restriction. He didn't want to free it just yet, without giving a little torture for all the trouble this man had caused. He licked the fabric. Nuzzling at it teasingly as he took in that rich musky scent of the man. He wanted a bit more torture but as it grew more, the curious man just had to take a look so he stretched one of the whole to have the cock fling out surprising the man.

"Why, Mr. Gatsby." He said in a sexy raspy voice before taking his first lick liking what he tasted. He sucked it lightly, licked his lips and then kissed the length. He tried to lick every inch of that big beautiful cock. He swirled his tongue at the head, sucking it more as he bobbed his head.

"Dang it, Nick. Where did you learn to be so good?"

"The army can make you desperate for a good time when most of the time there's men. Had my first blow job there." He swallowed the cock that made the man bite his bottom lip hard.

"They thought you good." Gatsby thrusted his hips into that hot talented mouth. Nick hummed in response having the cock grow another inch. The rich man continued to thrust his hips more and more as he felt so good. Grabbing Nick's hair, until he had enough that he pulled the man's mouth away from his cock. He picked Nick up to be kissed onto the bed. Nick was positioned on the single bed with Gatsby on top kissing him.

The sly man took his neighbor's cock into his hand stroking him. Nick arched his back at the postponed pleasure. He has been postponing sex for a while. The rich man then stopped kissing him. He looked down at the breathless hazy eyed man below him.

Jay Gatsby kissed the corner of his jaw, down his neck, across his chest where he took a nipple in between his lips to be nibbled, licked and then blown on making his new lover shudder. He continued down and then stopped to see a bullet wound. A scar of the incident which will never be forgotten as long as this was printed on his skin.

The man felt guilty but not for the reason you think. He felt guilty that he was happy that the scar existed because as much as Nick will never forget that event, he will never forget Gatsby. The man kissed those sensitive scar tissues, before continuing his careful considerate journey downward. "Now let me show you how a real man does it, Old Sport." He told him.

Nick laughed. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha-OH! Oh! Oh! G-Gatsby! OH WHOA! OH MY GOHD! WAIT! JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" The man came without any control as he shrieked a sound that wasn't human. His head was flung back as his body arched. Eyes rolled back. When he dropped down from the high, he was limped feeling absolutely useless at the moment.

Jay smiled down at Nick who smiled back. "What kind of soldier were you?" They laughed and then continued their kisses until they had returned interest. And Gatsby was riding Nick doggy style.

Nick felt his whole body heat up so badly that sparks were igniting uncontrollably all over his body. Sweat sliding down, hair slick against his forehead, bruised on the hips and his muscles aching but the pleasure felt so good. His lips swollen but he couldn't stop kissing the man. He wondered where Gatsby got his stamina because the night just went on and on. The rounds were longer for him than it was for Nick because he was given so much pleasure. So much love.

Nick began to wonder how Daisy could give this up. How she could not be taken by this man who gave her everything. "J-Jay, I need to rest." He finally gave in.

"Okay, Old Sport." No objection at rested together sideways on that single bed feeling absolutely contented.

Afterwards, Gatsby never went to Daisy again. The woman had come on visits, but had been disappointed every time because the man didn't shower her with the same love he had before. She accused him of being in love with another woman, she was half right.

Gatsby lived his dream of having what is meant to be his. A lover living in the same home as him with a little bit of redecorating to fit his lover's taste. A lover who would never betray him, use him, confuse him or belittle him. He had a lover who would tell him what he needed to hear, and gave him what he needed to know he had achieved. He was finally loved. Finally loved by Nick Carraway.