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When Gavin was stirred awake, he froze and listened for any signs of disturbance. Though he could be a light sleeper, prone to waking up at the harmless sounds of a rooster crowing or the tapping of rain against his roof, his lifestyle had made him ever vigilant.
Any remaining grogginess evaporated when the mattress jolted. Off to his side, an agonized “no, no, no” was whispered in rapid sequence.
When Gavin turned over onto his side, propping himself on his elbow to get a better look, he saw the outline of Allen as he thrashed again, cursing “fuck!” in furious distress at something he couldn’t see, his shout filling the small room.
Though he hated to admit how much it fit the definition, it alarmed Gavin. He’d never seen the reserved bounty hunter in such a state before. Though he risked getting struck, he knew he couldn’t ignore it. Gavin told himself he was addressing it so he could get back to sleep, but he knew immediately that excuse was bullshit. He couldn’t stand seeing Allen in such a state.
He pulled the sheets back and sat up, moving over to Allen’s side. Gavin watched as Allen stopped writhing, his chest heaving with rapid breaths. Before he could start again, Gavin took hold of his arm and shook it a little. “Hey, get up,” he ordered.
Allen woke with a gasp and sat up. Gavin lurched back in case his reaction was violent; instead, Allen scrambled away from him, his breaths ragged. In his effort to get away from Gavin, his legs tangled in the sheets, and he almost toppled over the side of the bed. Even in the dim light Gavin could see a wild shine in his eyes, and he immediately regretted his approach. He didn’t know any other techniques for waking people from intense nightmares, but there had to be better alternatives out there. Preferably ones that didn’t make Gavin feel like the man he knew was gone.
Those widened eyes were on Gavin as he spoke again, gentler, like he was trying to console a frantic citizen. “Easy, Allen. It’s just me. You were having a nightmare.”
He looked away from Gavin and hissed “goddamnit” as he untangled himself from the sheets. “I woke you up, didn’t I?” he asked wearily, leaving his side of the bed.
“Yeah, you did.”
Allen still didn’t hold his gaze as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. His apology was so defeated and small that if Gavin wasn’t alert and sober in that moment, he’d have sworn his mind was playing tricks on him.
“It’s okay,” Gavin replied, trying to keep his tone reassuring. He’d never been good at that, but the sight of Allen in such a broken state left him with a persistent unease. He didn’t want to think about why he was so bothered to see Allen in distress. Instead, he turned his focus back to Allen, coaxing, “c’mon, you should try and sleep. We’ve got another long day tomorrow.”
He just stood there, his face buried in his hands. Gavin moved over to his edge of the bed and took hold of his arm, his movements slow to not startle him. “C’mere,” he pulled Allen down so he sat next to him.
Allen’s voice was rough as he asked "what if I disturb your sleep again, deputy? What good will that do?"
"My sleep schedule is fucked one way or another. It doesn't make a difference to me." He turned to look at Allen. It wasn’t the easiest to make out his features, but with enough observation, he could see how loose strands of hair fell onto his forehead, his sharply dressed appearance gone. He still avoided Gavin's gaze, but his eyes no longer held that unnerving shine as he solemnly stared out the window.
Seeing how different he looked, Gavin felt his heart sink. He decided to be bold and reassure him the only way he knew how, outside of words that were often more scripted than heartfelt. Gavin brought up his arm and wrapped it around Allen's shoulders, pulling him closer to his side. Allen didn't push him away. To Gavin’s surprise, he leaned a bit against him, relaxing under his partial embrace.
Despite that, Allen told him quietly, "I can leave, you know.”
Gavin scoffed at that. "Like hell I'd let you. It’s an ungodly hour, you wouldn't accomplish much. So go back to sleep," he gave Allen’s arm a gentle squeeze before letting him go. Allen didn't move from where he was seated, his posture stiffening.
Gavin sighed and watched him as he got back under the sheets, as far as he could be from Allen. Taking on his authoritative lawman tone, he ordered: "Kenton Allen, I swear to god if you leave this room I'll find you and drag you back to this bed. So save me the effort and sleep."
Allen snorted at that, but got back into the bed. He warned him, "I can’t guarantee I’ll sleep."
"That bad, huh?"
Allen turned his head and stared up at the ceiling. "Bad enough." He stated, a stiff neutrality taking over his voice.
Despite his aloofness, Gavin tried to prod the subject more. “What happened in it?”
He’d barely asked the question before Allen responded with a clipped, “doesn’t matter.” A quiet breath was taken. “It’s nothing, really” was a weak whisper, and it didn’t convince Gavin one bit.
Gavin wanted to pursue the subject further, but even with his best interrogation skills and insistence, he doubted he’d get anywhere. Instead, he asked in a tone that he hoped didn’t sound pleading, "just... try to sleep, got it? Like it or not, we need it."
"I’ll try,” Allen murmured. He pressed his head down into his pillow and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and breathing back out. Gavin stayed on his side of the bed and watched from the corner of his eye as Allen fell back asleep, his chest gently rising and falling.
Gavin didn't feel tired. He had enough experience to know that staying up like this would kick his ass in the morning, but even if he wanted to fall asleep he couldn't. His mind was too active, and he hated it. Gavin knew he was gaining feelings for a man yet again; and an older man this time. Part of him was thrilled by how it made him feel, and that unsettled the part of him that insisted on practicality. He hadn’t felt this way in several years. This time, it went beyond the naive attraction that schoolchildren or desperate twenty-something year olds get. Like he once had been.
Allen... no, Kenton, was something else entirely. At first, the sight of the bounty hunter interfering with his own work had filled him with rage, even if it hadn’t been intentional. Fate had gone against his wishes and made their paths cross so many times, and through that they’d somehow become colleagues, even friends. And now the goddamn bounty hunter had burrowed his way into Gavin's heart, none the wiser of his effect on such a lonely lawman.
When they'd teased and conversed back and forth on their rides and shared responsibilities, he'd had distant thoughts. At first, they were tentative enough to be shoved aside and ignored. But when he spent more time with Kenton and got to know him better, his thoughts on the bounty hunter became insistent, more serious.
Then Kenton had protected him from the aggressive homeowner, ensuring Gavin was well out of harm’s way before he followed after. The swell of warmth in Gavin’s chest at how he’d handled the situation hadn’t subsided as they continued their ride to Rustic, side by side. That within itself was a warning sign.
And now, he’d seen Kenton in distress and wanted to console him. Not by superficial words that feigned comfort, but through sincere ones he could whisper between the two of them. Gentle, affectionate reassurances that could put Kenton at ease, make him feel as safe as Gavin had begun to feel around him. He wished he could hold Kenton, ward off the threats of his own nightmares, feel him relax under his touch like he just had again, dwell in how pleasant it’d be to have him closer.
From all that, Gavin knew he was done for.
His thoughts snapped back to reality when he felt the bed shake a little. Gavin sat up and looked over at him. Kenton lay on his side, frowning with his eyes squeezed shut. His side rose and fell as rapidly as earlier.
Another nightmare, already? He moved in closer, desperate to calm him even if he kept his distance. If Kenton woke up, he’d just make up some excuse on the spot. That he was calming Kenton so he could go back to sleep in peace.
Yeah, that.
Not because Gavin hated seeing how upset and frightened he became. Or how that inhuman shine to his eyes had managed to give Gavin’s heart a nasty jolt and twist all at once. He reached his hand out towards Kenton, but stopped right before he touched his forehead.
Gavin took a moment to contemplate if it’d be worth the potential risk of Kenton waking up and responding defensively.
To him, it was.
“You’re okay, old man, it’s not real,” Gavin whispered, caressing his fingers through Kenton’s hair in an attempt to comb back the loose strands. It didn’t work, but Kenton stayed asleep, his breath slightly hitching at the touch. Gavin lay down closer to him and continued stroking his hair. Kenton’s breath softened little by little with his touch and whispers of “it’s just a nightmare,” and “don’t worry, you’re safe.” He marveled at how soft Kenton’s hair was, even if it had gotten greasy with their intense travels.
As he continued the repetitive motion, the feeling of Kenton’s hair against his fingers relaxed Gavin, and drowsiness began to return to him. It was more difficult than he wanted to pull away his hand once Kenton's breathing was even, the nightmare apparently gone.
Gavin stayed there and gazed at him while resting on his side. With the usual crease in his brow less prominent, Kenton looked so relaxed.
The more he looked, the more entranced Gavin became. Kenton’s features looked softened and younger with his serene expression and the low lighting from the moonlight. In such peaceful sleep, he was almost a different man. Like someone less hardened, whose chest and arms weren't marked up by scars that Gavin had spent too much time wondering about in quieter moments.
Though Gavin felt like a downright asshole just watching someone sleep, he also hoped he’d never forget how Kenton looked. He moved back over to his designated end of the bed and lay on his side, facing away from Kenton. As he settled in for sleep, Gavin wondered about him more than ever before.
Now that he thought about it, Kenton had mentioned little about his own life in their many conversations and interactions. Gavin didn't even know where the man he was developing feelings for was from. Or how old he exactly was; though he’d teased him on being born in the last century, Gavin knew he wasn't that old. He didn’t know who Kenton had been before he became a bounty hunter, or the stories behind his countless scars, or if he even had interests outside what Gavin had seen.
He had to, right? He couldn’t just clean his guns and look after his horse exclusively in his down time. Kenton was hard-working like himself, but come on, even a hard-ass like him had to have other hobbies.
Or, what was the origin of those nightmares that’d evoke such vulnerability? It was like he expected Gavin to hold nothing but harshness and anger in response to them, and he was trying to protect himself from displaying what weaknesses he could control.
Gavin looked back at him one more time. He’d shifted onto his back, still fast asleep. Gavin thought but didn’t dare to whisper to him, even in his sleeping state: I barely know you. But I'd like to. Just who are you really, Kenton Allen?