Sorin had forced himself to lay motionless as he waited for sleep, curled in on his side. His natural inclination was to toss and turn, but he couldn't allow himself to flip over and come face to face with the other man. They'd ended the evening on far better terms than they'd started it, but barring magical intervention, sharing a bed wouldn't have been an option. In truth, he'd never slept in the same bed as another person, and the vulnerability of it scared the hell out of him. What if Gideon woke in the middle of the night and watched him sleep? Worse, what if things weren't what they seemed, and Gideon harmed him? It wasn't hard to kill a man in his sleep.
His mind was still reeling about frantically when he heard Gideon's breathing even out in sleep. After several long minutes, Sorin eased onto his back, stretched out, and set in for a long night of ceiling watching. At some point, he fell asleep.
When he woke, there was a moment of pure terror at the unfamiliar weight draped over his chest. If he'd been capable of moving, of doing more than gasping in fright, he would have bolted upright and possibly off the side of the bed. As it was, he lay immobile as his heart thudded a frantic pace in his chest. Not only was Gideon laying upon his left arm and half of his chest, but his fingers were reaching as if to grip and restrain Sorin's right arm as well. Being restricted brought every nightmare rushing back at him, and as he listened for the sounds of Gideon's breathing, he found he could hear nothing above the pounding in his own ears.
Then, like a blessing, Gideon made a soft "mmm" sound and nuzzled against him guilelessly. His mind recognized his safety before his body did, which allowed him to find a semblance of sanity even while his body continued to tremble in readiness.
"Gideon," he whispered, his voice spiking with panic. "Gideon, please."