"I'm not a particularly lucid dreamer," William warned, standing gracefully and smoothing down his robe. He considered stretching out on a couch, but he was generally too tall for that to be comfortable, and he guessed Joe would have some difficulty waking him once he went under. He stripped off his robe neatly and undid his tie, laying it over his robe on the back of an armchair. "If I dream about Pete naked," he continued, silently adding again as he arranged himself on his back on the bed and folded his hands over his stomach, "it's not my fault."
He took a couple of deep breaths, counting them the way his earliest meditations had suggested. Let go of conscious thought, Joe had told him. Let your mind go blank. Let yourself be calm and relaxed.
He was too aware of Joe as the seconds ticked past, though, of the awkwardness of his position and the fact that he was in another man's bed, wondering if Joe was watching him now, wondering if Joe would watch him sleep, worrying about what he was going to dream and hoping like hell it wouldn't involve sex or nudity in any form.
This is never going to work, he thought bleakly, and then exhaustion overtook him and he didn't think anything at all.