Pairing: Chris and Justin
Words: fortune teller; disrespect; demon


Chris succumbs to exhaustion about three-quarters of the way
through the tour.  Too many late nights combined with too much to
do and too little sleep have left him a zombie.

He's collapsed on the couch backstage in the Quiet Room.  The
show's over, and he's supposed to be running out to the SUVs
that'll get them away before the fan-created traffic makes it
impossible for anyone to drive anywhere within five square miles of
the venue, but he can't.  He just can't move.

Justin sighs.  "Guys, Chris is down, repeat Chris is down," he says
into Dre's walkie-talkie, knowing it'll get to the other guys. 
"We'll be a little late."  He picks Chris up, juggling Chris closer
to his chest.  "Door, Dre?"  Dre gets the door, and Chris makes his
way toward the bus.  Chris is heavy and awkward.  Carrying people
isn't actually easy, strangely enough.  Besides, one doesn't
*carry* weights, just lift them.  But he's carrying Chris because
someone has to.

"Idjit," Chris says, too tired to cling.  He's pure dead weight. 
"Should make someone who doesn't have to dance tomorrow bury me."

"Shut up, Chris," Justin says, pressing a quick kiss on Chris's
sweaty forehead.

Chris subsides.  Not because he likes the kissing, of course, but
because it's kinda tiring even to talk.

Justin jogs.  There are fans looking at them, crying in dismay and
pointing.  Justin swings onto the nearest bus, hoping it's where he
belongs.

It isn't.  Joey looks up.  "He okay?"

"I think so," Justin says.  "He's just burned."  He lays Chris on
the couch and kneels next to him.

Chris is deeply grateful to feel the soft cushions under him and to
be able to let himself go completely limp.  He watches Justin
coming down to his level to look at him and tries to express with
just his eyes how grateful he is to have been forcibly put where
he's supposed to be.

"Okay, Chris, okay."  Justin looks up at Lance and Joey.  "Can we
stay?"

"Of course!" Lance replies, frowning.  "Like we're gonna kick you
out.  Let's call and get JC over here before the busses roll."

Justin nods and listens to Joey calling.  He takes the water Lance
gives him and coaxes Chris into drinking it through a straw as
Lance starts on Chris's boots.

Chris makes a low protesting noise as Justin tries to get him to
drink.  He doesn't want to drink anything.  He already feels bad
enough, and he's not thirsty.

"You have to, Chris, c'mon," Justin coaxes.  "You'll feel better,
I promise."

Chris growls.

Joey comes back from his phone call.  It'd been short.  'They over
there?'  'Yeah'.  He sits Chris up, which makes Justin frown at him
and Chris growl louder.  Joey sits down on the couch and lets Chris
fall back down, his head now in Joey's lap.  "Better?" Joey asks. 
He rubs Chris's forehead.

"Yeah," Chris manages before Justin tries to choke him with the
straw again.  Hard not for things to be better when he's being
touched like someone cares.

Joey smiles down at him.

Justin sighs and hands Joey the water.  "Fine.  I don't want to be
hated anymore."  He joins Lance in removing Chris's final costume.

Chris could cry.  He doesn't hate Justin.  Far from it.  He
appreciates what Justin's done for him and is continuing to do for
him.  Justin is an angelic force for good.  It's the straw that's
demonic.  But he's just so entirely and completely fatigued that he
can't express it.

Joey smooths out the line on Chris's forehead.  "I don't think he
hates you, J."

"I know," Justin admits.  He kisses Chris on the chest.  "I'll give
you a bath after we get going, okay?"

JC bounds onto the bus carrying three duffles.  "Hi," he gasps, and
then heads for the kitchen.  "What d'you wanna eat, Chris?" he
calls back.

Lance laughs and rubs Chris's feet, even though they are sweaty and
smelly.

"KIll me now," Chris says to Joey, begging.  "Please.  Don't make
me eat his cooking."

Joey laughs.

JC calls Chris names and makes jello and canned chicken noodle
soup.

Chris wasn't feeling nauseated before, but he is now, a little. 
"More water," he requests.

Justin makes sure Joey's giving Chris water.  The bus is starting
up, and Justin fetches water and soap from the bathroom.  "We're
two days on the road this time," he notes.  "You can rest, Chris." 
He grabs some towels.  "Joey, you wanna pick him up so I can lay
these down?"

Chris makes weak motions with his hand.  He doesn't want a sponge
bath, not out here.  "No, please," he says.

Joey gives Justin a questioning look.  "Wanna spread him out on the
bed instead?"

"Sure.  Lance, help me put the towels down.  I forget y'all have a
bed," he admits, scratching his head.  Then he shrugs and drags
Lance away.

"Thanks," Chris says, as Joey picks up him.

"You need your manly modesty preserved, that's okay with me," Joey
says.  He's got one arm under Chris's shoulders and the other under
Chris's knees.

"It's humiliating being this helpless."

"Nobody's gonna disrespect you," Joey says, giving Chris a look.

Chris doesn't say anything.  You feel what you feel, even when it
isn't logical.

Lance, who's passing them on his way to collect the water, kisses
Chris's cheek.  "Besides, we just like getting to see your hot self
not blurred by your incredibly hyperactivity, Chris."

Chris summons a smile for Lance.  A tired smile, yes, but a smile.

Joey lays Chris down on the towels that cover the bed.  "You want
me to leave?  Just have Justin here for this?"

Chris winces, but nods.

Joey nods back.  "It's okay.  I'm not gonna give you a hard time
about it."

"Thanks," Chris says.  He closes his eyes.  If only his brain was
as tired as his body, he'd fall asleep.  But while it's tired too,
it's just a little bit awake and that's enough to keep him from
nodding off.

Joey heads out to the front of the bus to help keep JC from burning
the jello.

Justin takes the water from Lance.  "Chris?" he questions.  "Do you
want Lance to do this instead?"

"You do it," Chris says.  He lives with Justin practically.  Having
Lance do it would be more embarrassing, not less.

Lance nods and leaves.  Justin moves to the bed, kneeling next to
Chris's lycra-clad form.  "Hey."  He smiles fondly and lays next to
Chris.  "Love you, Chris."

Chris brushes his fingers against Justin's knee.  "Bet you say that
to all the boys you have at your mercy."

"Goose."  He reaches out and unzips the suit.  He's seen Chris
naked before.  Often, even.  While sick and well, wet and sweaty,
sunburned and having sex.  Not with each other, but in the same
room.  With girls.  Girls with big boobs.  Exhausted Chris is
still, and easier to look at.  Usually Chris runs away.  Anyway,
now Chris is still and tired and Justin gets him naked and then
starts with Chris's feet.  Soap rubbed in, then rinsed off.  Move
up, repeat.

Chris doesn't like being babied, mostly because, if he lets
himself, he enjoys it too much.  "Sorry," he says, to make it
perfectly clear that none of this, including the exhaustion was his
idea, and therefore it's not his fault if he enjoys it.

Justin grins wickedly, sitting astride Chris's hips.  "I'm not," he
murmurs lasciviously.  Mostly to make Chris feel good, but also
because he deep-down means it, and Chris should know that. 
Everyone deserves to feel attractive and know when people
appreciate them.

Chris chuckles and smiles weakly as Justin pretends that he's going
to do something a lot sexier than give him a sponge bath.

Justin moves on to Chris's chest and shoulders.  Face and neck he
does delicately.  "You want cold cream?" he asks.  "I'm not quite
getting all the makeup off, here, and I don't wanna push harder."

"Won't kill me if you leave it on," Chris says.  "Not going
anywhere, right?  No one t'care if I'm a mess."

Justin wipes Chris's face clean and leans over slowly.  He can feel
his heart pounding and the hot prickle of risk as he kisses Chris
gently.  "Nope.  No one cares."

Lance kissed him earlier, but that wasn't on the lips.  "J?"

"Love you, Chris," Justin replies.  No demand, no question.  It's
just a fact and a comfort.  "C'mon, turn over and I'll do your
back."

Chris isn't sure what to think, but he groans with the effort of
trying to roll over onto his stomach.  Justin helps out and that's
nice of him, but by the time Chris is actually flat again, his head
is swimming.

"Shh, now," Justin orders.  "Feel free to fall asleep."  He starts
at the top and works his way down, pausing to massage a little from
time to time.

"Not that kind of tired," Chris says.  He's definitely not that
kind of tired.  He's getting hard.  His cheeks flush.

Justin finishes and lays over top of Chris, who's starting to
shiver.  "Okay, Chris?" he asks quietly.

"Too okay, maybe," Chris says as Justin's weight grinds his dick
into his bed.  The warmth is a relief.  A relief and kind of a
torment, too, since he can't find the energy to reach for his dick. 
It's like having to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night
and falling asleep again because it's too much trouble getting up
and then having dreams about Niagara Falls the rest of the night.

"You want -- need -- something else?" Justin asks quietly.  He
knows sexual release can be a gateway for a tired mind to find
sleep.  He knows he wants to do this.  For Chris, and because it is
Chris.

"Too tired, J."

"You want a hand?"  Justin wiggles his fingers in front of Chris's
face.

"Jesus."  It comes out of his mouth without thinking.  It takes him
a second to find and add a wittier reply.  "I didn't realize this
was a full-service bath."

"For you?  Of course."

"Justin."  It's all the warning Chris can muster that they
shouldn't do this.  It doesn't take a fortune teller to predict
that something like this is going to complicate things.

"Okay," Justin sighs.  "I'm gonna shower quick."  He rises and tugs
the sheet over Chris.  "Relax."

Lance waits until Justin goes to shower.  It's been a long hour,
Joey and JC arguing about the jello and then settling to watch TV. 
Joey and Lance switching off in the shower so JC doesn't burn their
bus down.  But now, Lance gets up and goes to the back.  Someone
should be with Chris.  "Hey," he murmurs, crawling onto the bed so
that Chris is facing him.  "Company?"

"Sure.  Company's good."  Chris smiles at Lance.  Lance is restful. 
He gets close and cuddly, but he doesn't shove at the lines like
Justin does.

Lance smiles and drags a pillow under his head.  "So.  How are you
really feeling?"

"Tired.  Tired-sick maybe even, where you're not really sick, but
you feel sick 'cause you're tired.  Horny."  He gives Lance a wry
smile.  "Apparently I'm still turned on by nubile young things
putting their hands all over my body even when I'm too tired to
care."

Lance laughs a little.  "Aren't we all?"

"Probably.  Thanks.  For taking care of me.  I appreciate it.  All
of you."

"Yeah, well, like I said.  We all just want to please you so we may
continue on in your august presence.  Or something.  Plus, we'd
sound dumb without you."

Chris laughs a little.  "Yeah.  Whatever."

"Shush, brat," Lance snarls.  He looks like a total nut when he
snarls, and it makes Chris giggle.  Every time.

Chris giggles.  "Maybe I'm glad Justin didn't let me die at the
venue.  Dying here has much better entertainment."

Lance rolls his eyes.  "You're not dying.  You're just exhausted."

"Close enough."

"We should do something mentally tiring, so that you can sleep,"
Lance suggests.

"Sounds good.  What?"

"Chess?"

"No.  Don't wanna move."  He's been told chess isn't a contact
sport, but they haven't succeeded in proving it to him yet.

"What, you can't see the board from there?"

"Chess is no fun unless you get to tackle someone."

Lance laughs.  "Okay, fine.  Your suggestion would be...?"

"Movies.  And.  Um."  The word 'cuddling' almost, but not quite
makes it out of his mouth.  "The rest of the guys."

"Huh.  Hold that thought."  Lance goes to get the others.  "Movies
on the bed, c'mon.   Chris Cuddling Time."  JC jumps onto Lance's
back and Lance starts hauling him to the back of the bus.  It
involves a lot of swearing and banging JC's knees into things.

Joey follows with the jello and soup.  "Chris Cuddle Time?  Hey,
where do I get in on some of that?"

Chris glares at Lance.

"What?  You wanted us."  Joey passes Lance the soup before sitting
at the top of the bed to draw Chris back against his chest.   Lance
beams.  "See?"

JC lolls over Chris's feet, keeping them warm.

"Yeah, well," Chris grumbles, secretly happy.

Lance holds a spoonful of soup to Chris's lips and the bowl under
his chin.  "Open up, little birdy."

"I hate you."

Joey chuckles and kisses Chris's temple.  "Eat it.  You'll feel
better."

Chris opens his mouth with bad grace.

Lance forgoes the buzzing sounds because he thinks Chris might
incinerate him with a glance if he does them.

Chris does start to feel a little better after Lance gets some of
the soup into him.  He opens his mouth more readily as he starts
feeling genuinely hungry.

"Hey, is this a private party, or can anyone join?" Justin asks
from the doorway.

"Private party," Joey says.  "Getcher ass over here."

Justin walks to the bed, ass first.  He collapses next to JC,
laying across the bottom of the bed to watch... "What are we
watching?"

Chris splutters, and Joey gets the water, holding the straw to his
mouth.  Chris shakes him off, too.

"What?" Joey asks, at the same time Lance does.

"I get to choose the movie!" Chris announces, glaring at both of
them.

"Duh," Justin says, rolling his eyes.  "What are we watching,
Chris," he repeats, as if talking to a small child.  But he grins
and reaches over JC to rub Chris's knee, too.

Chris grins approvingly at Justin.  "I wanna watch The Crow."

"Caw," Lance says dryly.  He kicks Justin off the bed.  "Get the
movie."

Justin flips Lance off -- and gets the movie.

"Pissy bitch," Chris says admiringly.  "Feed me!"

Joey laughs.  "He feels better."

Lance makes airplane sounds and feeds Chris some more.  "He'll be
fine," he insists.  "We'll make him fine."

"He's already *fine*," JC says.  "Even if you did snip off his
horns."

"Yeah, I liked him as a horndog," Justin agrees.  Which is a lie,
because he's the one who did the snipping.

"Hah!" Chris says, before Lance muzzles him with the spoon.

Lance kisses Chris's cheek.  "Eat now, fight later."

Chris opens his mouth to say, 'Promise?', but Lance sticks the
spoon back in his mouth.

Joey laughs.

Justin resumes his place and hits play on the VCR.  The Crow has
been one of Chris's favorites since pre-DVD.

Chris settles down and lets them take care of him.  His body feels
heavy, but now it's not so much exhaustion as the bodies piled on
him.  With twenty or thirty hours of sleep, he might be human
again.

By the time the movie ends, Lance, JC and Chris are all sleeping,
snoring quietly.  Justin is drifting pleasantly when Joey clears
his throat.  "Hmm?"

"You gonna come up here or fall off the bed?"

"Fall off," Justin mutters.  But he moves up against Joey's side,
instead.

Joey ruffles Justin's hair.  "Better.  Go to sleep.  He loves you."

Justin's lips turn up at the corners, and he closes his eyes. 
"Silly."

"Yeah," Joey says fondly.  "You both are."

Justin laughs and falls asleep.