Bobby woke up, and heard water running somewhere.  He ran a hand through his hair, pushed himself up off the mattress.

Saw the biggest bedroom ever.

Oh, right, this was Remy's apartment in New York.  Or one of his apartments in New York. Bobby wasn't totally sure.  "Remy?" he called out.  "Where the hell did you go?"

More water running.  Water and -- music?

Bobby got up, only slightly embarrassed that he was utterly naked and his clothes were, uh. Downstairs.  If he could remember right.  Good for him, Bobby thought, and nodded firmly.  

Wandering around, Bobby finds the ensuite bathroom, door slightly ajar.  He didn't want to interrupt Remy, but he was curious.  The music was louder, but still muffled by the taps and the solid door.  "Remy?" he called, again.

No answer. Bobby pushed the door open.

Remy was standing facing the main mirror, and he had a hairbrush in his hand.  There was an old, crappy stereo sitting on the counter, playing.

Playing.

George. Michael.

And not just any George, but "Freedom."

Bobby bit his lip, *hard*, hummed "tainted love" under his breath, and marched right up to Remy - who was giving himself smouldering looks in the mirror and trying to hold the towel around his waist, all whilst singing into the hair brush.

When he was directly behind Remy, Bobby said, "I don't care what kind of sordid past you have," and Remy dropped the brush in panic, tried to catch it with both hands, thus dropping his towel -- "dancing to George Michael is the gayest. thing. ever."

Remy turned the stereo off nervously, then tried to regain his composure.  "Bobby, cher," and he smiled charmingly.  "What're y' doin' up?"

Bobby shook his head.  "no way, Remy," and he grinned.  "I've seen you shakin' your ass to George.  There's no way you can regain your dignity."

Remy sighed, looking disgusted.  "Shut up."  He stuck his nose in the air, walking past Bobby naked as a jay bird, playing off the whole thing.

Bobby couldn't help it.  He tumbled into hysterics on the floor of the bathroom. He resigned himself to the fact that as long as Remy was around doing incredibly goofy, if adorable, shit like this, he was going to become very good friends with the floor.