For sherrold_ish: (regarding Justin's whale of a tour bus) "I wanna see Justin being proud, but not wanting to brag, and Chris's reaction -- following or preceeding any Stripped and Justified concert."

Justin bounced on the edge of the bed and looked up at Chris through half-lowered eyelashes. It was an expression that Chris knew intimately, although he hadn't seen it in years. "So, yeah. That's the tour. I mean, you seen one bus, you seen them all, but this is home sweet home for the next God only knows how long."

Chris leaned against the wall of the bus and watched the way that Justin squirmed. It brought back memories of Germany, of the early days back in the States, when Justin was first discovering that all he had to do to get something was to ask for it. Chris remembered that look from the first night when Justin had gotten a craving for butter-pecan ice cream at one o'clock in the morning, and one of the hotel's concierges had found an all-hours grocery store and had the carton in Justin's hands within the hour. Somewhere along the way they'd all gotten used to it, but that didn't mean that they weren't occasionally startled by it anyway.

"It's nice," Chris said. "Really nice. I mean, as traveling cans of boredom go. You can probably be pretty comfortable on this one."

"Yeah," Justin said, and then bit his lip. "Except I don't know what I'm going to do with all this space just for me, you know?"

"I know," Chris said, and tried not to think about how fucked up it was to have your fondest adolescent memories involving a tour bus to the point that you considered what would have seemed claustrophobic to just about anyone else to be "too much space".

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