Charlie opened the door when he heard the soft knock, whispering thanks and handing her a generous tip. He took the large tray from the stand she wheeled in and took careful, balanced steps until he reached the bed. He put the tray on the bedside stand and sat down beside Geoffrey.
He’d been awake for almost an hour, at first just laying there and thinking – it was a very strange thing to wake up the morning after a concert clear of mind and not hung over. He hadn’t wanted to move, for fear of disturbing Geoffrey, who had at some point during the night curled up with his arm across Charlie’s chest. But they’d worked up an appetite the night before, and he didn’t much feel like getting dressed and going out for breakfast, so he’d made good use of the room service menu and ordered more food than either of them could probably eat.
He nudged at Geoffrey with his elbow, amused at the way Geoffrey’s brow furrowed and he burrowed deeper under the covers. “Sleepy-head,” Charlie whispered, tapping Geoffrey on the chest lightly. “Its almost noon, and I’ve got food.”
Geoffrey’s eyes opened a slit. “There we go,” Charlie said, smiling. “I knew you’d come ‘round when I mentioned breakfast.”