For annavtree: "Justin/Chris, Celebrity era, banter-y."

Justin was at that level of bone-tired that could only be dealt with by a week and a half of sleeping straight through the clock, with the occasional break to stumble out of bed, drain one's bladder, drink some water to avoid dehydration, and maybe grab a handful of cereal or a half a bagel if one's stomach was protesting too loudly before dropping back into the nest of covers and going back to one's best impression of a sloth. Or a housecat. Or something else that slept for twenty-three hours a day. Unfortunately, they were in the middle of the tour, and the best he was going to get were some caffeine pills and an IOU to his body, which had taken to viewing such IOUs with the same level of suspicion that one might hold towards a convicted jewel thief who was promising you that the bracelet he was trying to pawn was his sister's, no really guv, she just sent me right down to nip into here and pick up a few bob for the weekend.

"Infant," Chris said, dropping down on the couch next to him. "you need to sleep."

Justin sighed. "I'm perfectly aware of my need for sleep, you know, and do you think we could maybe dispense with the 'Infant' already? I'm old enough to drink."

"Finally," Chris said. "After years of waiting. And just because your birth certificate says that you're legal doesn't mean that you're not still the Infant. Especially when you're acting like a kindergardener who keeps trying to stay up past his bedtime just to get a few more minutes in."

"If I could sleep," Justin said, and dragged a hand over his face, "I would. Believe me. If I could sleep, you would be the first to know, because you wouldn't see me for a few weeks."

Chris paused and stopped poking Justin's thigh, suddenly turning all concern. "Insomnia?"

"The usual." Justin gave him a weak smile. "You know how it works."

"Yeah," Chris said, and stood back up, holding down a hand. "Come on. You gotta remember, all you need to do is ask."

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