Separate rooms

He listened. Is Gabriel choking out there? Foster threw off the blankets and levered himself out of bed to check on his lover. He padded to the door, cracking it open quietly. Outside, in the main part of the apartment, it was silent. But, you know, if he's really choking, he wouldn't necessarily be making any noise. He's probably just having another bad dream. He slowly swept open the door and snuck over to Gabriel's, which stood ajar.

There was enough light filtering dimly through the windows from the starry sky outside that he could make out where Gabriel lay and some of the details of his hunched posture. Must have been a dream. But do I wake him if it's over now? Just then, Gabriel's shoulders shook and a choked-off sob escaped him – the same sound Foster had heard earlier. That the guy was trying to keep himself from making any noise tore at Foster's heart, not to mention the crying itself.

He knew what it was about. Yeah, it could have been because of a dream, but Foster knew it wasn't. He knew with perfect certainty that the quiet grieving was because he'd refused to sleep in the same room with him. It was such a stupid thing for a sane, mature adult to be fixated on. Foster had trouble even figuring out why Gabriel was so desirous of the proximity. Yeah, he'd been lonely and being alone was his biggest fear, but sleeping in different rooms was pretty normal behavior for people who could barely stand each other. Yet when Foster had resolutely stalked off to the other bedroom earlier that evening, he'd caught a little of Gabriel's expression. That was why he was sure that was the reason the man was crying now.

Foster didn't feel guilty about it; he didn't see that he'd done anything wrong in asserting his own boundaries. Gabriel did not have a right to his presence, attention, or snores after beating him up earlier. Even if granting that last was harmless and free, it was still something of Foster's to grant or not. A lack of guilt didn't mean, though, that he was unmoved by the man's stifled weeping. Foster understood the disappointment and the bitterness of having something you wanted and hoped for taken away. He understood the aching need in Gabriel's heart for some proof the world had not abandoned him, especially during sleep - the most vulnerable and defenseless period a person inevitably had. Foster had slept in a chair next to Gabriel's bed the night before, giving him something of what he wanted, but it had been too cramped for Foster to do it again.

He straightened from his stealthy skulking and walked to the bed, hearing the sudden hitching gasp when Gabriel heard his approach. Utter silence reigned after that as Gabriel held his breath. Foster sat on the edge of the bed, extending his right hand to touch the man on the left shoulder. “Hey,” Foster said very softly, almost tenderly. Asking if he was okay was foolish. Asking why he was crying seemed similarly pointless – the reason was glaringly obvious. Foster sighed and rubbed gently, offering, “Do you want a hug?”

He suspected his tone of voice had a lot to do with Gabriel's reaction. It was quiet and low, the same inflection a mother might use to tell a bedtime story to a beloved child. Gabriel didn't answer, but he did start breathing again, then turned to look at Foster warily, his features lost in faint shadow from the windows. “Come here,” Foster soothed. “It's okay.”

Gabriel swallowed noisily, shifted and sat up. He gave Foster an incredibly awkward, shallow hug, as if afraid of imposing too much. Foster snaked his arms around the man in a slow, steady fashion, feeling along for any sign that what he was doing was unwelcome. Gabriel shuddered, but it was a strangled sob of relief and not rejection. Foster wrapped himself around him and hugged him tight, not letting go as seconds and then minutes floated by, measured out by the ticking clock on the night stand – something Foster had gotten him. Maybe it was a house-warming present; maybe it was just a present. Foster wasn't able yet to do more; Gabriel was still too damaged to even recognize the small gesture. But they were getting there. Slowly, gradually, as the sniffling breaths returned to normal, Gabriel let his hands inch around Foster's back until they crossed the spine heading in different directions, letting his long limbs settle into a mirror image of Foster's. Gabriel wasn't even sure how to hug.

Foster stroked up and down Gabriel's back, gently comforting the man who had taken his heart such a short time before. Gabriel's humanity and fragility showed itself in a multitude of ways. Foster couldn't ignore them, violent or not. At long last, Gabriel quietly and meekly laid his head on Foster's shoulder, letting the tension flow out of him. He was very warm, hot from getting worked up, and had that aroma of sleep and restfulness that Foster adored on people. “It's going to be okay, Gabriel,” he murmured. “It's going to be okay.” Gabriel sniffed again, giving him a squeeze and the slightest shake of his head. But he didn't actually disagree.

“You want me to sleep with you?” Foster offered spontaneously because it was his to offer. Gabriel wasn't expecting or demanding that Foster be with him; he was just sad that he wasn't. And that – that, made Foster want to help.

Another noisy swallow, a shallow breath, and Gabriel whispered, “Yes,” like he couldn't believe it might happen.

“Kay,” Foster said, ego immensely stroked by Gabriel's astonishment. “I'll be right back,” Foster murmured, getting to his feet and going for the pillows off his bed. When he returned, Gabriel had scooted over. Even in the darkness, Foster could see the man's eyes were wide. Another wave of gratification passed over him – Gabriel's appreciation was profound and that was everything Foster wanted. He was being heroic, in such a small way, being cheered and applauded by a grateful audience.

He put the pillows between them, because yeah, he was going to sleep with Gabriel, but he wasn't going to 'sleep with Gabriel' not after his display of violence. He bypassed the chair, slid under the covers, smiled gently in Gabriel's direction, and said, “Good night.”

Gabriel.