Nick took a quick glance at his wristwatch every few minutes as he waited impatiently for Daisy to arrive. Today he was supposed to meet her for lunch at his pitiful excuse for a house, until Gatsby would come to try to speak with her.

"Is your schedule open for this Thursday, by chance?" Gatsby asked on one of their weekly trips to the city.

"Yes, I believe so," Nick replied cautiously, while retaining a polite smile. "Why do you ask?"

"I feel that it is finally time that I have a meeting with Daisy, old sport," He explained with a slight smirk. "So, what do you think?"

"I'll be happy to arrange a meeting between the two of you," He said, his face relaxing. "I'll speak with her and inform you of her answer as soon as possible."

"Try to make it around noon or so, if you can."

It was already one o'clock, yet he hadn't heard from either Daisy nor Gatsby.

Maybe she had an emergency to attend to, he tried to reason. She does have a child, after all.

But what about Gatsby? A voice questioned sharply. Even if he doesn't know what happened to Daisy, surely he'd come by to make a new plan, at the very least.

Nick bit the bottom of his lip as he tried to decide what to do next. It was just as likely that both Gatsby and Daisy were busy as it was that they were simply late for lunch.

But how on earth could they both be an hour late for a planned lunch? The voice argued back. Something has to be going on.

Maybe I should just call Gatsby and cancel this lunch, then...

Right as he was about to make up his mind, a loud tap at the door caught his attention.

Daisy! He thought with relief as he got up from the table and headed towards the door.

His face fell a little when he saw that it was Gatsby standing at his doorway.

"Hello, Gatsby," He greeted. "Would you like to come in?"

"Good afternoon, dear Nick!" Gatsby replied warmly, stepping slowly into his house.

Seeing him stare at the tiny and unkempt house before him, Nick's face grew quite red.

"I apologize for how insignificant and untidy my cottage is compared to your mansion," He blurted out a little too quickly. "I was looking at a book or two while I waited for Daisy to come."

"Why are you apologizing for?" Gatsby asked as he peeked into the living room, turning around to face him with a smile. "I find it to be a quaint household that you have established here."

"Thank you for your kind words." He said, his face still red.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, old sport," Gatsby placed a hand on his shoulder. "Now, come and sit with me."

He led Nick into the living room and pressed his hand down, forcing him to sit on one end of the couch.

"Well, I'm glad that you came here when you did," Nick said. "I wasn't sure if I should have contacted you or Daisy first."

"Why, I'm awfully sorry for making you worry like this," He apologized, bringing his other arm up to massage Nick's tense neck. "You know how it gets when you focus on getting so many things done that you just lose track of time."

"Mhmm..." Nick gave a silent sigh, liking the cold, but gentle hands that slowly rubbed his neck. "I know what you mean..."

"I've always believed that every person should have somebody to talk to," Gatsby began to whisper in his ear. "Somebody to relax with...somebody to open up to."

"Definitely..." Nick said sleepily as he shut his eyes, focusing on the fingers that kept moving back and forth down his neck, moving like the slow, but powerful waves of the eternal ocean.

As his form became more limp, he noticed the faint scent of wildflowers lingering on the other man's forearms. It smelled quite different from the dirty smog that he was getting used to, yet it reminded him of the West...

It reminded him of home. Although he found his hometown to be a bore, he was always fascinated by the scent of wildflowers that grew around house, which always calmed him down after a large thunderstorm he used to be afraid of when he was a small child...

He was slightly roused from his meditation when he felt something hot and wet licking and sucking on his pulse.

"Gatsby...?"

"Yes, Nick, my love?"

"W-what are you d-doing?" He opened his eyes and finding Gatsby giving him a small, but seductive smirk. "D-Daisy...?"

"Oh, do not worry about your dear, sweet cousin Daisy for the moment," He continued to whisper. "You, Nick, are the one I want."

"But Gatsby⎯ " He protested in a mixture of lust and disgust. "We can't..."

"Ever since I first laid eyes on you at my party, I knew I wanted you," The man said in a low voice, slowly moving his hands back to Nick's shoulders. "I want to know the food you eat. I want to know the books you read. I want to know you from the inside out."

Nick trembled violently as he said these words, but whether it was from shock or ecstasy, he did not know, or particularly care. He gave a shuddering sigh as the other man began to unbutton his shirt, wanting his cool hands to touch every last inch of his body.

The impatient brunette undid the last few buttons, shooting him a lust-filled glare. At last, Gatsby's calm and in control gaze broke down into a wordless, wild, and desperate plea.

Without another word, Gatsby pushed the man to the couch, pinning his arms over his head and pressing his lips against Nick's.

Tasting the wildflowers on Gatsby's lips, Nick hungrily licked the other man's lips, wanting more.

The blond man forced his tongue into the other's mouth, while keeping him pinned to the couch. He became even more rough as Nick let out a loud moan, finally tasting the pure, undistilled wildflowers.

He panted at the vigor of Gatsby's kisses and gave a squeal of protest as the other man began to unbutton his pants.

"Nick?" A woman's voice called from the outside. "Are you home? It's Daisy!"

"Want me to let her in?" Gatsby asked with a devilish smile.

"No!" He yelled.

Beginning to panic, he grabbed his shirt off from the floor and ran as fast as he could up the staircase.

"What shall I tell her?"

"Anything! Just make her leave!"

He quickly inched over a few inches to hide behind a wall and stood still as Gatsby walked over to answer the door.

"Good afternoon, Daisy."

"Where is Nick? I was supposed to have lunch with him but at the last minute, my daughter came down with the flu."

"I am sorry to say that he has come down with the flu, too. He was very ill, so I came over to make sure he was all right."

"Oh, my! Well, give him my best wishes, then. Tell him I stopped by."

"I will be sure to do just that. Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

Once the door was shut closed, Nick gave a relieved sigh, while Gatsby gave a low chuckle.

"Now, if I am not mistaken, we were about to have lunch."