He'd stayed down in the bar for as long as he could manage. To stay awake any longer would have required the drugs he'd brought with him (the ones sitting on the dresser right now, unopened), but he's been leary of using them in case this all gets resolved quickly and he can go home.
So he'd given in finally and crashed, just about managing to get his clothes off before passing out in bed. It's been good sleep - but now, as he drifts towards wakefulness, it seems to him that it's a little harder to breath than it was when he first came upstairs.
Eyes flicker open blearily, he blinks a few times...before realising that the source of the problem is a familiar head resting on his chest, breathing deeply. Ramon smiles and winds a hand into his hair as he lays his head back on the pillow. But he keeps his eyes on him, already feeling better for simply having him near. It seems a shame to try and wake him but he's curious as to what he's doing here.