"Good," he murmurs, a faint smile in his voice. He shifts more so that he's partially on his front, arms pillowed beneath his head. "As much as I would like to sleep, we need to find our way out of here, Master Widogast. And I will need you for that."

Which is not to say he has participated for purely selfish reasons, but he needs his lover's keen mind, his fresh eyes, and his focus. The latter has been considerably compromised for a while.

"If you manage to get up before I do, hand me my clothes."

He lifts his hand from beneath Caleb's so that he can manage the somatic element of Prestidigitation. He casts it twice: once on himself, and again on Caleb, to take care of the worst of the mess between them.