He could feel himself nearly choke at his question, or offer. Gatsby surely disliked how close they were- and it wasn’ until then that he felt it. It wasn’t what Gatsby had said, or did , thatt let on to his feelings of the subtle intimacy only the words “no touching, no talking” now echoing about in his mind. It made him sick now, realizing what he was doing and forcing himself into happiness and on to another man.
So Ewing moved back a few inches so they weren’t touching. “I was only about to.. say that if… If you’re upset or… something then I would be willing to listen. “ How genuine, and sickening- almost as much as the touching. Ewing gave his best forced smile though no one but God could see while the meaning stayed the same in a facade, and made his tone more smug as usual. “I won’t remember what happened this evening anyway,” Not drunk, only out of choice.
The next morning he would pretend none of this happened and they could go on living normally and irritably.
With that, Ewing turne don his side to face the other wall away from Gatsby, the familiar weight of loneliness beginning to settle. He wanted Gatsby now more than ever, to feel him beside him and not just know of his presence. To be able to smell the subtlty of his cologne from an earlier meeting with someone of importance as he nuzzled into his neck again. Having his arms around Ewing’s waist or vice versa Feel his gentle breaths and fall asleep to the sound of his heart beating.
How disgusting- wanting a man like that. What good would it be to get attached only to have him taken from you- romantically or not.
That’s why Ewing settled for sex. There was no rik in romance during sex, not in his experience as young as he was. Why- the only intimacy he knew of that kind was rushed, forced, and for entertainment and pleasure unlike intimacy. It was done, then you slept and said your goodbyes the next morning. It was the perfect evening- so why did he want more than that with his very own employer?
Ewing turned on his side again, causing a slight bump in the bed’s movement, and opened his eyes to meet Gatsby. With the light peering through the window’s glass, he could make out faint features on him- one in particular being his lips. It only brought back the echoing thoughts of how much he craved his touch and intimacy. He knew it would cost him , but one kiss couldn’t hurt. He needed intimacy more than he’d ever guess and it wouldn’t lead in to anything explicit.
So with another breath, Ewing propped himself up on his elbow and sighed another faint “good night” before allowing himself to press his lips to jays in a soft manner, bringing his hand up to lay on his cheek . After a long moment , allowing his kiss to linger softly with no urging of anything mor ethan a good night kiss, he relaxed back down on the bed. Ewing gulped every ounce of anxiety down, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He was surely going to be kicked out of the room now, and all he could do was wait.