For this night, Loras' own sleep was dreamless, a rarity and a welcome one at that. Sometimes he dreamed of good things, like Renly waiting in their tent, and others weren't so good. Tonight, it was neither. It was blissful rest until he heard the screaming and felt the thrashing. Loras sat up, knowing immediately where he was.
He was relieved to see the Renly's chest was moving. He could see the beads of sweat even in this darkness. It had been a dream. Even with his sleep addled mind still waking out of the nothingness of his own slumber, Loras knew what was happening. His fingertips traced Renly's wet lips, then slipped to the pulse that raced at the side of Renly's neck.
Calmly, Loras reached over Renly and turned on the bedside lamp, to the dimmest setting, just so that Renly could see. "You're here," he told Renly, running his hand over a sweaty forehead, moving damp hair away from it. "You're in bed with me, not there." Loras' own heart was beating steady and slow. He knew the dreams, he knew how they went, and he had to be calm. For Renly. Were it him, he would not have been so calm.