coffee dates and other things || frerard oneshots

jazz

full disclosure, this is a scene from a fanfic i started writing ages ago in which Gerard is the costume and stage designer at a burlesque lounge and Frank is a bartender there. they're close friends.

Gerard sighed and leaned his head against the cold wood of the door, desperately fighting the urge to cry. He knew that inside the office, Jamia was doing the same, but at least she had a bottle of Jacks to keep her company. All Gerard had was a sense of impending doom and failure.

God, what are we going to do? He thought miserably, finally pushing himself away and turning to the stairs. Feather boas and someones scarf were wrapped around the banister, a pair of stockings falling through the bars. The lights downstairs were still on. 

It wasn't until he reached the top of the spiralling iron steps that he heard sound; the faint murmur of the bar staff as they cleaned. But then, as his boots hit the first step, he realises there was no clinking of glass or occasional clatter of the broom against a wall. Curiously, the artist crept further down the stairs until he could see into the actual lounge, crouching down on the step and peering through the bars to snoop.

The bar staff had moved the tables to the sides, probably to sweep, and were sitting on the floor in front of the stage, leaning close to murmur in each others ears. The lights suddenly dimmed and one of the waitresses hooted, inspiring a round of jeers to be yelled at someone hidden by the curtain. A familiar piano jazz tune started as the curtains started to pull upwards and Gerard felt his interest pique. 

On stage, a silhouette was outlined in one of the stage lights, their head down and their knee bent slightly. The stage lights were dark blue and Gerard thought he recognised who was on stage but... it couldn't be.

The piano continued for a few moments, the rest of the bar staff snickering to each other and pulling faces. Whoever was on stage was clearly trying to ignore them, but their shoulders were shaking with occasional laughter.

Finally, their shoulder popped forward in a sultry gesture, the spotlight lighting up their face as they started. "C'mon babe, why don't we paint the town?"

Gerard's jaw dropped.

Frank grinned playfully at the crowd of bar staff, still dressed in his uniform. "And all that jazz."

Having worked in a burlesque bar for years, and being an avid fan of musicals, Gerard knew how this song went, but he wasn't sure how dedicated Frank was to the performance. This was clearly something fun that the staff did after hours, and surely that was all it was, something fun to wind down.

He was immediately proven wrong by the way Frank slipped his hand down his thigh and swirled his hips forwards. "I'm gonna rouge my knees, and pull my stockings down. And all that jazz." 

He was able to keep all his movements perfectly in time as he sashayed across the stage, rolling his wrists upwards as he swirled his hips again. It was art, and Gerard was starting to get over his surprise. 

"And the piano's hot." The rest of the bar staff hooted as Frank waggled his fingers like he was playing the piano. He grinned at them again, missing a few of the lyrics as they played, before syncing up again a few seconds later.

There was an air of feminine teasing as he danced, and Gerard had to resist the urge to creep closer; not wanting to disrupt whatever was going on, but also wanting to get a better idea of how good Frank was at this. When did he learn this performance? Did they always do this after hours? Did he know other performances?

Gerard was also impressed with how comfortable Frank seemed to be, keeping with the original feminine movements of the song, his hands sliding up and down his hips and thighs at some moments. The way he sprawled across the piano, and parted his legs almost in the splits as he rolled over. 

Someone wold-whistled and Frank flipped them off. Gerard couldn't help but smile.

He was a very dramatic performer, which was always good for show tunes. Especially for a song as teasing and fun as 'All That Jazz'. Frank would make a perfect Velma.

The song sped up and Frank moved across stage, playfully cocking his hips and smacking his thighs as he lip synced, his arms then coming up to ruffle his hair. "Find a flask, we're playing fast and loose."

He moved back the other way, keeping his eyes locked on the mini crowd. "And all that jazz."

"Right up here, is where I store the juice." He moved his hips outwards, half stepping, half hopping to the edge of the stage. Before doing a 3 step-turn and opening his arms. "And all the jazz!" His hands went back down to his thighs, his knees pulling together.

Gerard was picturing Frank in the stockings and the red lipstick that Velma wore in the films, the designer in him trying to figure out how to adjust the overall costume to suit Frank better.

"No, I'm no one's wife." Frank was atop the piano now, hands above his head passionately. "But, oh, I love my life!" He shook his head playfully and for a moment Gerard imagined his clothes glittering with sequins.

The bar staff erupted into applause and whistles as Frank froze in the final pose, his chest heaving, before he straightened up and bowed.

"Alright, hm... I pick Charlie for next week! And you know the drill, it's gotta be something from Cabaret. Stop trying to wriggle your way into my Chicago songs." Frank was clearly teasing, and the laughter from his friends was proof of that. But, still Gerard was mesmerised by their bar staff.

He never considered that any of them might be performers, eventhough he knew that wannabe-performers usually start out as waiters and bar staff in the venues where they want to dance or sing. Clearly, they'd come up with their own ways, and it seemed incredible.

Gerard was itching to ask Frank about it, they were best friends, but he was also worried that he'd stumbled across something sacred. 

For now... He decided, watching as the lights went back to normal and the staff started to stand up, some of them high-fiving frank. I'll leave it.

i'm going to re-write this when i get up to it in the fic, so that it's better, but for now: ta-da