He'd like to think he's a fairly subtle man on the whole--but there's little to guard against in this moment. Amos knows what he needs to about Gideon Thraxios; the things Gideon doesn't want him to know, he won't learn from lying in silence together on a bunk barely built for one man, let alone two. And to be given this moment, the weight of Amos' bulk beside him, under his fingertips, his nose in Gideon's hair, is a gift he hadn't expected. A silent sigh escapes him as he stares at the ceiling.