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Old habits die hard. It's the way he places his shield at arms length when sleeping and keeps his sword under his pillow. Or the way he usually sleeps turned to the door or he does push-ups early in the morning, long before anyone wakes up.
Not that he has done that in a while.
Not that there's been time for it, either.
But he remembers, a long time ago, he'd stay up watching Will while he slept. Orym wasn't exactly a night owl and thankfully for him, Will was even less so. This meant that most nights, he could watch his husband be safe and sound in their bed for an hour or even two. Maybe they'd spent a long time apart or maybe something dire had happened during the day that left either of them shaking, and Orym could do nothing but stare at his husband. Safe and sound. Safe and sound.
He needed to make sure, of course, that he was. Will was his everything, even when drool slid down his chin as he snored the night away, and hell did he snore loudly. But Orym loved him endlessly, more than the moons themselves and beyond could comprehend.
So, when he found himself staring at Dorian while he slept, well. He knew.
Now, after a night of laughter and wild bottle spins but also sad confessions, Orym can't stop watching. Dorian is too far away, his back turned to him so he can't even watch the expression on his face. There's a distinct lack of the rise and fall of breathing lungs and Orym knows for a fact that Dorian isn't sleeping. He tends to skip on the breathing when he's trying to be quiet.
But what can he even do? Go over and talk? Today was the most they've gotten out of Dorian about what was actually going on with him and even then he avoided a lot of the questions he'd worried about the most.
So all he can do is watch. Safe and sound. Except they aren't neither of those things, not fully at least.
But old habits die hard, and not even the rising sun of a new dawn can comprehend the ways in which Orym of the Air Ashari loves one Dorian Storm.