09: [Accidental Video] Dirty White Boy

[dashboardlite]

A fast-paced guitar riff is playing, and the comm unit appears to be placed in its usual spot - the hulking desk by the window.  A little light is streaming in, and the room would be fairly dim if not for the tall floor lamp in the corner.  The music, a less-popular piece by Foreigner, thrums around the room and is soon accompanied by a heavy roll of steam from one side of the frame.  It's coming from the bathroom.  Once the lyrics start, though, the vocals are not those of American-born-and-bred singer, Lou Gramm, but Dean Winchester's low, throaty, almost-crooning voice.

"Hey baby, if you're feeeeeeeling down, I know what's good for you all day," The man hop-skips out of the bathroom, steam swirling around his head, clad in nothing more than a towel.  He's got a hairbrush in one hand and is singing into it pretty soulfully.  "Are you worried what your friends see?  Will it ruin your reputation lovin' me?  'Cause I'm a dirty white boy - dirty white boy!"  Dean slides along the wall, still wet, feet squeaking on the polished wood floor.  "Dirty white boy - dirty white boy!  Diiiiirty white booooy!"

He manages to make it through the second verse passably well, tossing clothes out of his bag here and there in search of, no doubt, a particular flannel shirt.  "I've been in trouble since I don't know when, I'm in trouble now, and I know - somehow, I'll find trouble again!  'Cause I'm a dirty white boy, diiiiiiiiiiirty whiiiite boy!  Yeeeaaaaaah!"

Once the instrumental break hits, so does the air-guitaring.

He appears to have noticed nothing at all aside from his singing and fairly poor excuse for dancing, but the show must be amusing.  Dean slides to a finish, whipping his head to one side and wiping his brow, tossing the hairbrush on the bed.  Panting, he glances casually over to the comm unit and realizes that the red RECORDING button is on.

Eyes widening to exponential proportions, he bolts to the camera with a muffled laugh and a well-placed "Shit", offering a broad expanse of chest before switching the camera off with a near-deafening click.

Comments

[VIDEO]

[defiant-eye.livejournal.com]

[ GOLF CLAP. ]

[VIDEO]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[When Dean next appears on the channel, he's thrown on an AC/DC shirt and is looking...rather sheepish, actually. He offers Elle a tiny smile, trying to hold in his laughter.]

...encore?

[VIDEO]

[defiant-eye.livejournal.com]

[ She tucks at the neckline of her blouse. ]

Not sure I could handle that.

[VIDEO]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

I don't, uh- I don't usually make a habit outta bein' an exhibitionist.

[He shifts a little, eyes darting to one side, still trying to smile.]

[VIDEO]

[defiant-eye.livejournal.com]

Maybe you should. Really not much going on here otherwise.

[VIDEO]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Why? Like what you see?

[It's hard to suppress that smirk once it gets going.]

[VIDEO]

[defiant-eye.livejournal.com]

Cut down on the singing and the towel and you've got yourself a subscription.

[VIDEO]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

I only sell private subscriptions. Should I bring one by your room later?

[VIDEO]

[defiant-eye.livejournal.com]

[ She smiles.
Smiles.
Smiles.
Stops. ]

Pass.

[ She already has a subscription to 'surly detectives daily' and is, apparently, not looking for more at the moment. ]

[VIDEO]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

There's only a flash of disappointment, for less than an instant, before he shrugs.

"Your loss, sweetheart."

[VIDEO]

[defiant-eye.livejournal.com]

Keep up the good work though.

[ And with a grin she turns the transmission off. Incidentally 'surly detectives daily' will rub her the wrong way during the next event, so she might get back to that offer sooner than she thought. ]