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urfrenfishy · 5 months ago

Text

Do You Hear Marimbas?

A New Jersey Rats Short Story - M4A - Implied Masc Presenting Listener

I do not own these characters they are all made by the wicked @escapedaudios , this is a fan fiction of said characters :)

notes: this is my first time writing on tumblr please be nice idk how to format this shit, also this takes place a month after the new orlean rats

Intern breathed in, breathed out. This is meant to be fun, it’ll be fun...right?

It had been weeks since Jean and the brothers had told them about Stacy. It had been weeks since they and the brothers planned this. They had weeks of rehearsals. Alone.

Why was this so different? Jean and the brothers the only audience members and they rented out the whole fucking building! Jean won't care if they mess up, he wasn't even aware this was happening to begin with.

God, what were they thinking?! Oh yeah, let's put Intern on a stage in some fancy clothes and they'll sing all sexy for Jean! At a rented-out jazz club! They're sure that's exactly what Jean would like as an impromptu seven-month anniversary gift. A reminder of his ex.

God, they'll probably look so pathetic. Like really? Jazz singing just because his ex was a singer? Talk about insecurity.

But...wait no- this was never a jealousy thing. At least, they never wanted it to be. Well, maybe a little- but come on, you find out your lover's ex was a sexy jazz club singer, and he settled for an accounting intern who has about the same amount of social skills as a Batman villain. You'd feel a little insecure too.

So- no, they wouldn't say this was a jealousy thing, because they knew that Jean wouldn't leave them, or at least, wouldn't leave them over Stacy. They weren't worried about Stacy. Maybe...maybe they just wanted to prove they could be as...cool as she was? Yeah. Cool. They'll try their best.

----------

"Aight Jean, sit right...there," Badaboom explained as he gripped Jean's shoulders.

"Guys- what's- what is going on right now? I mean, when you put a sack over my head and shoved me in the driver's seat of a car- only to make me drive. With the sack still on my head. Honestly, I don't even know how we survived the trip but- Anyway! What- what are we doing at a jazz club? And why-"

As Jean prattled on, Badabing sat him down, front row. And cut him off because Jesus Christ, Jean.

"Okay okay okay- Jean- Jeany boy, just- just chill out alright? You're gonna like this, we promise!"

The music started (a slightly pitched-up version of Michael Bublé's Sway) and Jean couldn't help but grunt a witty remark.

"You promising anything doesn't actually promise any-"

Then they walked out, he heard them even before he saw them. The click of heels against waxed tempered hardboard. As he turned his head, he felt time slow. They..He had never felt like this before. There was no way to describe it. He couldn’t believe they settled for him.

At first, he only saw their shoes, he didn't realize they would be so close. Then their legs, god- their legs. Finally, he was able to meet their eyes, only to find they were already locked on his. They weren't wearing their glasses, could they even see him? Doesn't matter. The spotlight behind them, a halo. An angel.

Then they started to sing.

Jean wasn't even listening to the lyrics. Just them. Just their tone. Their cadence. Their eyes. God, he loved them so much.

As the first verse began, they lifted the mic off of its stand and started walking, never breaking their gaze. Jean had never seen them like this. Sure, they knew how to set a mood, and they were pretty charismatic when they wanted to be, but this. Their confidence. Even the way they walked- it was a strut, honestly.

He could feel Badabing staring at him with a shit-eating grin.

"Yeah you're definitely bi-cycleul or however you say it..."

Jean couldn't afford to look away so he just sort of.. whacked his hand around the shorter man's general vicinity to shut him up.

A music break. A moment to focus on the physical alone. And god knows there was a lot to focus on.

Where did they even get that outfit? Jean had never seen it before, did they buy it just for this? Well- yeah that would make sense they had enough money for a lifetime supply of new outfits if they wanted.

Their skin shined under the spotlight, so did their clothes, their hair. But somehow their eyes were always visible- never drowned out in beams.

And soon they were singing again.

"Other dancers may be on the floor,"

Every sway and footstep was a dance. Jean couldn't even imagine how much time they put into this.

"Dear, but my eyes will see only you,"

They stared at him, into him. They reached their hand out to him and it took everything for him not to reach back, he could even feel his hand starting to rise all on its own.

"Only you have that magic technique,"

They receded their hand, twisting the mic back onto its stand and jutting it beside them as if it were their dance partner.

"When we sway, I go weak."

Their knees bent and the mic was dipped, their eyes shut as they held the note, and their eyebrows curled upwards; they almost looked sad. It was beautiful. Jean wasn't ashamed to say he was pretty envious of the mic at that moment.

As they seamlessly transitioned from lyric to lyric, Jean was positively awed. How could they sing a line so- so...seductively? Then immediately jump to the next lyric like it didn't even happen! It was like magic. Hypnosis.

The last chorus, the last verse. Jean didn't think he would survive.

Each note just kept climbing higher, he didn't know they had a range like...like this. Sure, he had heard them singing in the shower occasionally, or in the kitchen when they thought he couldn't hear but...never like this.

They held onto the mic and reached down to Jean, their glove becoming God's hand, and Jean had become their Adam. If only Michelangelo could see humanity now.

The final note was held. Their head momentarily snapped to the left to briefly bend into the mic before it snapped back forward again. And the performance was over. Jesus. Christ.

----------

They did it. They actually did it. Holy shit, they- they didn't think they'd actually be able to. Knowing their luck they would have tripped on a cord or had a voice crack so bad they'd permanently lose their voice or something but, no they- they really did it!

Sure they probably strained some notes at the end there, and they were so sweaty. Those lights were so hot. They hoped it didn't show. Jean was still staring. Did he like it? He looked like he liked it, but- you can never tell can you?

They were breathing so heavily. This outfit felt so heavy. They really hoped he liked it. They just kept their eyes on him.

Clapping. Oh- The brothers were clapping. Cheering even. And Jean followed. He stood up, cupping his mouth and practically yelling in support. He was always so supportive.

Jean ran up to the edge of the stage as they walked to him. He practically jumped them as he helped them off the edge. Just as their shoes grazed the floor, Jean's arms were already around them.

"Sweetheart that was- I- I don't even have the words-"

They laughed, and he laughed with them. They were so relieved. He didn't think it was weird.

"I'm...I'm just glad you liked it," They rested their hand on his chest, his heart was pounding.

"Liked it? Of course, I liked it, you- you were...I mean- you were fucking gorgeous," His voice grew quiet as his forehead rested on theirs. They loved it when he did this. They felt so close.

They felt even closer when he kissed them. Definitely closer then.

"Alright lovebirds, cut it out, don't make us singles feel too homicidal," Badabing blurted as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I don't know, I 'tink it's sweet," His taller brother defended.

"Well, no one asked you, did they?"

Intern always was amazed how those two could turn anything into an argument. The 'lovebirds' chuckled to each other at the sight. Then they felt him tugging on their hand. They turned, he was pulling them towards the stage.

As they walked, the intern gripped his hand tightly and whispered, almost overtaken by the noise of the brothers.

"What are you doing?"

Jean smiled and turned his head to them as they both walked up the steps of the stage, "Taking us backstage."

Oh? Backstage? Alone? Well damn, they thought they performed well but not that well, but they're not complaining.

As soon as the two of them got into the wings, the intern was met with another kiss, a deeper kiss than before.

"Baby- Do- are we really gonna do this here? I mean Badabing and-"

Jean cut them off. His hands gripped their arms.

"You didn't do this because of Stacy right?"

And just like that. Mood, gone. Jean had an unparalleled ability to do that. Intern probably wasn't much better. It took them a second to respond.

"That's...a good question actually, I don't...think so?"

He stared at them, his lips pursed.

"You don't...think.. so?"

"Well- I- Okay it's not- I'm not jealous. I swear to god I'm not. I just...I don't know- I guess- I guess I just wanted to prove myself," They looked down, smiling at the stupidity of it all.

He tilted his head in confusion and inched closer.

"Prove yourself of what?"

"To prove to myself that I'm worthy of you?"

Jean sighed, managing a sad smile. His hands slid from their arms to their back, pulling them towards him. A hug. He breathed in the scent of their hair and they breathed in the scent of his shirt.

"You don't have to prove anything, honey, you've already got me," Jean comforted while he rubbed their back.

"I know," They dug their fingers into his shirt, the fabric felt cool compared to how high their body temperature was.

He slid his hands down and hugged their waist and began to shift his weight back and forth. Soon, so did they. Swaying.

Jean kissed the top of their head.

"I love you so much."

They smiled into the crook of his neck, he felt it.

"I love you too."

#I DID IT #this took like weeks #but we did it folks #escaped audios #escaped audios jean #escaped audios fanart #new jersey rats #new orleans rats #fanfic #writing

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