Work Text
New York City, 1948
Over the course of two songs, the place came alive; even the stone-faced intellectuals and somber artists who made their way up from downtown were on their feet and dancing. Dean didn’t even use his stool by the bar, he was too busy; his body in frantic motion; blood pumping, sweat dripping down his brow. This was his favorite place to hear music, uptown, Harlem had it. The musicians up here possessed a special something that the imitation as flattery bands downtown just could not capture. Soul was in the black neighborhoods, and Dean loved it. Yeah. There were great spots downtown, for Jazz and Bebop and Blues too but the biggest vessel, the pulse of it all was here in Harlem.Dean heard about the band for a while now, but always missed the shows until now. Dean ditched the house party he was at in Greenwich for this, and the night was already going fantastic. Jack and the Mad Dogs was composed of Jack from New Orleans on sax, locals Jimmy on trumpet, Lenny on Piano and Harry on Bass, Vic on drums and a guy named Reeves from New Mexico. Though Dean didn’t know anyone in the band yet, he planned to hang around and talk to them on a set break. They stood out, something about their sound was funkier, louder, dirtier than all the other popular bebop bands of the moment. Dean enjoyed meeting people, he was good at it, but his favorite thing was magnetism; two drawn as one, eyes and souls connecting, that powerful draw that happens organically. He loved that feeling of needing to be close to someone, to know all about them, to consume and explore with them - to share the experience of life.
-A few songs later-
Hands clapping, ecstatic smiles, feet stomping and hips shaking; heads moving back and forth with rhythm as the music tapped into the patrons veins; electrifying them with sound and melody. Bodies dancing with wild abandon. Swing, melody, pure expression, life; it had it all. When the band stopped for their first break, Dean broke away from the crowded room and stepped out into the night. The autumn air sweet against his hot skin as he laughed and caught his breath. Dean leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. His shirt was clinging to his skin, his heart racing; this is the feeling he sought and he got it. This was the only way to live. As he smoked, Dean took in his surroundings; Lenox avenue was just as alive as the club behind him. People coming and going, musicians carrying their instruments on the way to gigs, hard working folk on their way home and the wanderers roaming around, guided by the light of the moon. Numerous people filed out to cool down, including a couple of women who caught Dean’s eyes, and he started his assessment of them, knowing by time his cigarette was done, he’d have his pick for the night.A moment later the club door opened again, and out stepped the guitarist from the band. He wore a big smile on his face, moving past the soft eyes and touchy hands of his admirers as he thanked them and stood off to the side. A breeze moved through, tossing Reeves dark curls into his face. As he smoothed them back, he made eye contact with the blue eyed man watching him with a curious eye. Reeves threw a smile his way, and seconds later the tall blonde was approaching him. Dean held out his hand as he leaned in close, “Hi, I’m Dean.” Reeves laughed and shook his hand, both of their palms sweaty, “please tell me that’s your real voice.” “It is,” Dean replied with a chuckle. “Deepest damn voice I've heard in a long time. Wild - I’m Reeves.” “You guys were great up there. Fucking electric.”“Thank you man,” he nodded then winked at a woman to their left who was making bedroom eyes at him, she looked like a dancer, he'd be surprised if she wasn't. “This is a cool joint, but the breaks are short. I gotta fit in a piss and drink.”Dean patted his shoulder, “I dig it, see you inside.” Reeves smiled, made eyes at the brunette once more, then headed back inside. Dean took a look at who was still outside then put his cigarette out. His eyes zoned in on a pretty thing, all breast with nice legs, big brown eyes and a smile that could brighten the darkest day. He made his way over to her, “wanna dance?” “I’d love to,” she smiled, allowing him to take her hand as they went back inside.