*OLD* oc oneshots or smthn

you and i

HOLY FUCK SINGING!!!!! IM SORRY I LOVE THESE TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
you and i - ingrid michaelson + mentioned true love cafe - nicole dollanganger
my hands r shaking as i write this im cry

A faint, gentle strum of a guitar could be heard on the other side of the thin wall. Tuning in closer, Jean-marie could hear one shaky, voice singing.
"Rub my feet with yours when we sit in a restaurant booth." there was a small pause, "Make me fall in love with you."
Jean-marie had a bit of work to be done, but Franko had such a sweet voice and he'd never hear the man sing before. Quietly, he left his space and placed his ear on the door to Franko's room.
"Take me on a sticky, sweet romantic date." another subtle pause, Jean-marie took note of how unsure Franko sounded. "Take me out to eat at the true love cafe." his voice grew much more hushed, Jean-marie started to worry if Franko had heard him sneak out. "Ask for breakfast menus, order sunny side up eggs. Stick your fingers in m-"
Jean-marie decided to interrupt before Franko grew silent, he was greeted with a yelp.
"Jean!" Franko shoved the single earphone he had on out, turning his back towards the intruder. "I'm sorry! Was I too loud, did I bother you?!" he was flustered and completely red.
Jean-marie could only smile at that, "No, I really like your singing." he sat behind Franko, their backs against each other. "I thought it was really nice."
Franko stammered, "T-t-thank you..." he started mumbling, "I-I can... we can sing together..."
Jean-marie wasn't the best at singing, his voice sounded odd and deep, but if it was with his little bear... "If you're up to it."
Franko repositioned himself beside Jean-marie, trying his best not to hit him with his guitar. Sitting cross legged, he brought his laptop to his side. "Y-you like that song... You and I, right?" Jean-marie only liked the song because Franko listened to it 24/7, loud enough to be heard out of his earphones, yet he was acting like he'd only listened to it twice.
"Yes, I do." he almost knew the song by heart.
Franko fell silent, his hands were shaking as he propped up his guitar.
"Go ahead, don't be nervous."
"I'll mess up..."
"And that'll be okay. I'll admit, I'm nervous too. I'm shit at singing, honey."
That seemed to give some reassurance to Franko, "O-okay..."
"Don't you worry there, my honey." he began the soft sound of his guitar, matching his small voice. His warm, brown eyes strayed off towards the blankets, "We might not have any money, but we've got our love to pay the bills."

"Maybe I think you're cute and funny," Franko gulped, "maybe I wanna do what bunnies do with you, if you know what I mean." he let out a cute giggle. Franko started to gain more confidence when he saw Jean-marie smiling at him.
"Oh, let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the South of France."
"Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance."
"Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain, making everybody look like ants."
"From way up there, you and I, you and I." his voice grew smoother and louder with every word. "Sing it
with me, sunflower."
"Well, you might be a bit confused," Jean-marie was stiff and he sounded awkward. Franko calling him sunflower caught him off guard.
"And you might be a little bit bruised," continued Franko, glancing at Jean-marie.
"B-but baby how we spoon like no one else." he silently scolded himself for making that small slip up.
"So I will help you read those books, if you will soothe my worried looks," they started singing in harmony,
"And we will put the lonesome on the shelf."

"Oh, let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the South of France."
"Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance."
"Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain, making everybody look like ants."
The two were both giggling and grinning like idiots, Franko's face was lit up and Jean-marie felt warm and fuzzy.
"From way up there, you and I, you and I."
Their voices mixed well, but Franko's voice sounded much better. Almost heavenly.
"One more time!" exclaimed the light of his life, "Oh! Let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the South of France-"
"Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance."

"Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain, making everybody look like ants,
from way up there, you and I, you and I."