𖧷 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𖧷

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Jake used his status and pro detective skills to learn everything there was to know about Sal Mucci.

He was twenty-seven, his father was Vito Mucci (Jake knew that, but still thanked the man who'd told him) and his mother who's-name-is-not-to-be-spoken (Jake started referring to her as Voldemort in his head, since no one gave him a name) abandoned him to Vito when he was five years old. No one had heard from her since.

Upon learning that, Jake felt an immediate tang of sympathy. He, too, had grown up without a parent- and it fucking sucked. If all else failed, at least they would have that in common.

He'd been studying at culinary school for four years now, and was set to graduate in two months, which would be May.

He was also known as the Karaoke King. He was the best singer in the family.

To celebrate his return for spring break, the family were organizing a huge karaoke party in his honor. And it was happening tonight.

Once he knew this, the lightbulb in Jake's head went off like a firecracker. He had to awkwardly explain to a few who'd overheard why he'd shouted, "Jake! You're a genius!" out loud to himself.

That night, Jake took a few too many shots. He needed liquid courage to execute his plan. His undying, cheek-splitting smile plastered on his face and a glass of whiskey in his hand, he walked up to a microphone.

Stumbling a bit, he cleared his throat and laughed a bit drunkenly to catch the attention of the room. "Hello!" He cried out, waving around the glass in his hand in greeting. "My name's Jake Peralta." He introduced himself to kill time while his eyes searched for Sal #8's. Funnily enough, the tall, dark-haired man wasn't easy to spot in the crowd of tall, dark-haired men. But Jake knew the tall, dark-haired man he was looking for was special, even though he didn't know him that well yet. He smiled more genuinely, showing of his dimples, when he finally saw him. Sal looked good, really good, leaning against the bar and smirking, tight grey shirt showing off his defined biceps and silver chain glittering around his neck. Jake had to blink a few times to remember what he was supposed to be doing and what he was supposed to be saying. "And I," he announced loudly, pointing his finger at Sal, "challenge Sal Mucci, the Karaoke King, to a karaoke battle."

Sal's smile grew and he shook his head the way you would at a small child doing something dumb as the audience whooped.

"You've got nerve, Jakey." A man up front told him, though he was grinning. No one ever challenged the king- this was bound to be interesting. Jake nodded at him and looked back at Sal, eyebrow raised. "Do you accept? Or are you afraid of the Jakester?" Jake taunted, enunciating his made up name dramatically.

"I accept." Sal agreed to Jake's nonsense. He thought it was cute. And he knew he could take Jake down- easily. He put his drink down and sauntered over to Jake, smirking as he brushed behind the ex-cop and took the mic from his hand. "What are we singing, Jakester?" He mocked, radiating confidence.

And although Jake didn't mind seeing the sexy smirk on Sal's face, he still had a trick up his sleeve. He had picked the most ridiculous and atrocious song he could think of. Jake hated this song- but he could deal with it to see the look on Sal's face. He picked up another mic that was lying around and hit the button on the karaoke machine, letting it play the first few chords.

Sal froze, his lips in a tight line as he tried not to smile and break out into laughter. "Fine choice." He tried to tell Jake with a straight face, but a chuckle escaped.

And when Jake took it upon himself to start belting out the lyrics and dance, drunk and off-key, Sal broke, letting his face twist into a delighted smile so big it hurt.

"What a man, what a man, what a man, what a mighty good man-" Jake chanted.

"Yes he is!" Sal chimed in, joining into Jake's drunk shenanigans on stage. Jake smiled at him. Sal realised he'd been wrong about Jake- they just might get along after all.

In the look Sal gave him, Jake could see he'd made that progress. And that made him feel good. There was nothing Jake liked more than being liked.

And that was how Jake Peralta, detective with the NYPD, got a whole room of italian mobsters to sing and dance along to Salt-N-Pepa.

He fell deep into his performance, drunk on the applause for him in the room, (and also the alcohol) throwing his arms all over the place and grinding against Sal as he sang. Sal grinned, holding his mic away from his face for a moment to whisper something just for Jake. "Maybe you're not so bad after all, Peralta."

Jake paused briefly, somewhat touched. "Back at ya, Mucci."

And, with a sort of strange horror, Jake realised he meant it. When he met Sal's dark, enticing eyes again he thought he might be getting himself into something much more dangerous than he'd anticipated. Jake hadn't said anything he'd truly meant in three months. And looking around, Jake wondered vaguely, only for a second, why he was working to take these people down. They were just a big happy family having the time of their lives, singing Whatta Man and drinking and playing cards.

He snapped out of it quickly enough, screaming at himself internally- reminding himself that  they were criminals. He couldn't let himself befriend them or feel any sympathy for them. It was wrong. So, so wrong.

Then why did it feel so good when Sal smiled at him? Why did it feel so good when all the old men called him son? It felt so good to be a part of something. 

He'd been away from the Nine-Nine for too long. He was starting to forget that he was a part of something there, too. He was even starting to forget what Captain Holt and Amy and the rest's voices sounded like. It scared him.

But he couldn't think about that stuff, not right now, not with Sal standing so close that he could feel his breath on his lips. "That was fun, Jakey. Another round?"

"Yeah," Jake replied, but his smile had turned sad with thoughts of the precinct. He wished he could see his friends again, even just for one night.

Sal noticed. "You okay?" He asked, placing his hand on Jake's jaw and holding his face. Jake had learned the italians were touchy very early on, but his stomach never fluttered the way it had just then before. He pushed the feeling away, forcing a real smile. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. What's next?"

Sal chose, giving Jake an amused glance out of the corner of his eye.

When he heard the music, all of Jake's doubts seemed to disappear. He laughed as Sal walked over and threw his arm around him, pulling him close into his side. He was strong. Jake felt, as weird and horrible as it was, safe.

It definitely wasn't the first time the Ianucci family did karaoke to this song. They all joined in at the perfect time. Jake's smile was real, now, he couldn't help it. He was going to be stuck with these people for quite a while still, so why couldn't he enjoy it while it lasted?

"We are family! Get up everybody and sing!"

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ꨄ︎ 𝐉. 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐀Where stories live. Discover now