For the next week or two nothing happened, and Emmett almost might have been able to convince himself Luke's idea had been abandoned. But he'd underestimated Luke too many times before to do it again. The other shoe would drop eventually.
There were no late-night visits or phone calls during that time. Emmett thought about initiating something himself, if only to show they could just continue on as before if they wanted, but he noticed a change in Luke that made him think twice. At first Luke seemed as friendly and comfortable as ever, just focused on work and planning for the end of the tour. Gradually, though, he grew quieter and more withdrawn; a sure sign he was steeling himself up for some kind of intense pressure. Emmett knew what it meant, and left things alone. Luke could take whatever time he needed to sort out his choices.
They moved on from Detroit to Buffalo and then to Boston, arriving the night before the start of a four-show stint there. Emmett had dinner with some of the crew and then, as usual on the first night in a new city, went up to his hotel room alone.
Luke called soon after he got in, barely masking the tension in his voice. “So…you got company?”
Emmett understood. “No. You can come by whenever you're ready.”
So this was going to be the big night. He waited beside the door, wondering again if he should try to put a stop to it. But when had he ever prevented Luke from doing what he was set on?
There was a soft pad of footsteps outside on the carpeted hall floor, and a quick tap on his door. Emmett opened it and stepped back, taking in Luke's expression – serious, but smiling.
Luke shut the door behind him carefully. “Hey, Em.” He leaned up to peck Emmett's cheek. “I know it's a bit early.”
“That's okay.” Emmett wrapped both arms around Luke's shoulders and squeezed briefly, then let go and waited, watching him. Luke gave a little grin – half wry, half winning – that Emmett recognized as his defense against vulnerability; a way of saying that he trusted he was too charming to want to hurt. He used to give new audiences the same look, at the start of their earliest shows.
“So can we…do this?” Luke said, in a bit of a rush.
“If you're sure.”
“I'm sure.” Luke kicked off his shoes, revealing bare feet, and took an uncertain step back against the wall beside the door. “But how do we start? Should I, like…kneel?” A half-laugh, quickly aborted. “Do I call you sir or something…?”
“It's up to you.” Emmett paused for a second, then resolved. “I'm going to get ready for bed.” He forced himself to walk away, into the bathroom. This would be the hardest part for Luke; he needed time to adjust, to get himself into the groove of what he was doing. Some of those boys in college had been so cavalier, flippant even, when they started out, and then fallen apart when reality hit them. Emmett had learned to give them time.
He took off his clothes and got into the shower. If Luke lost it, the way those boys had, he'd shut the whole thing down, no matter what. But would he have to? Luke had always been a risk-taker; he pushed himself through whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. He'd get through this one way or another. And Emmett would too, even if he wasn't exactly looking forward to it.
He got out of the shower, dried off, and pulled on his long silk robe, tying it slowly, trying to shake off the feeling of dread. When there was nothing left to do, he opened the bathroom door and started to walk out, then halted abruptly. Luke had undressed completely and was kneeling against the wall beside the door, where Emmett had left him.
It took Emmett a moment to adjust to the sight. He thought about how long he'd been in the shower and was grateful for the coarse hotel carpeting that might have made Luke's wait slightly more comfortable. At least he seemed calmer now, holding himself still, his head bowed; he didn't look up even when Emmett approached him. Emmett brushed the back of his hand against Luke's cheek. “Good job, Lukey.”
Luke smiled slightly without lifting his head. “You never like it when I'm dressed and you're not, so I figured this is the way to start.”
“It is.” Emmett moved away. He went over to the thermostat and turned up the heat a bit, then switched off the overhead light, leaving just a bedside lamp on. Luke hadn't brought a bottle with him this time, so Emmett took a beer out of the bar fridge and opened it as he went to sit on the edge of the bed. He took a gulp, set the bottle on the night table, spread his legs slightly under the robe, and waited for Luke to look up.
“Come here.”
He tried to modulate his voice, aiming for a balance between reassurance and the authoritativeness that would help Luke obey without thinking too much. It seemed to work at first, as Luke started to rise instinctively; then he stopped and stayed frozen for a long moment. Emmett didn't understand the hesitation until, slowly, Luke lowered himself again, leaned forward to brace his hands on the carpet, and finally crawled across the floor toward the bed.
Emmett, momentarily horrified, opened his mouth to protest. This was not what he'd expected. Luke's naked body, the bare, pale skin – in a dressing room or in bed or loping across the room to make a drink, yes, that he was used to. This moment of raw exposure, the seemingly deliberate abasement – no. Surely there was something wrong with this. And yet he couldn't stop staring.
When Luke reached the bed, he looked up, a small smirk camouflaging the tension in his face, and sat back on his haunches. Emmett's shock subsided, replaced with a wave of awe and pride at Luke's composure; suddenly he was less worried and more excited to continue. He reached down to run reassuring fingers through Luke’s hair.
“You're doing so well.” He almost spoke in his normal voice but remembered at the last minute to pitch it at a slightly more imperious level. Luke wasn't looking for a friend tonight.
Luke's whole body uncoiled slightly at his touch and words. Emmett, still on the edge of the bed, leaned back again and gave him a moment, then very deliberately extended his hand, the one with his college ring on one finger. This was something he'd often done with his ‘boys’ as a slightly taunting gesture, to force a mark of submission that they generally resented. But with Luke it was more of a suggestion, an offering that might meet his needs.
It took Luke a moment to understand. He shot Emmett a puzzled glance, brows knit in confusion, but Emmett just waited, and Luke soon figured it out. He took Emmett's hand in both of his, raised it and kissed the ring, then lowered his eyelids and pressed his lips against each finger separately, and finally against the back of Emmett's hand. Before Emmett could move his hand away, Luke opened his eyes and did something else none of the others had done; he turned Emmett's hand over and bent down to kiss the palm – once, and again. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he rested his cheek in the curve of Emmett's palm, and smiled up at him.
It was impossible not to be moved. Though Emmett's tears didn't come easily, as Luke's did, his vision blurred slightly. For the first time he could almost grasp why Luke wanted this so much. In that moment, he wanted it as well.
When the evening first started, he'd had some vague, half-formed plan of bringing Luke over to sit at his feet, expecting Luke would ask for permission to go down; he'd agree, Luke would proceed, and the whole thing would end there. That had seemed like a fair experiment, a chance to fulfill his agreement painlessly and move on.
Now that plan was abruptly forgotten. He was hard already, under his robe – which was kind of funny, since he'd worried earlier that he wouldn't be able to get it up at all tonight. But he wasn't so sure that he wanted to move things along quickly; he wondered instead if he could make the experience last.
He pulled his hand away and stood up, reaching back to pull the bed covers down. “Come here,” he ordered, forgetting to monitor his voice, but the words came out in a guttural growl anyway.
Luke looked a bit worried, like he was afraid he'd done something wrong, but obeyed, getting to his feet and following Emmett onto the bed. As Emmett disrobed, Luke propped himself against the headboard, leaving a bit of distance between them.
“Pass the beer,” Emmett ordered. He didn't usually bark commands at Luke, but tonight it seemed like an easy way to keep the dynamic going, and Luke showed no objection. “Thirsty?”
When Luke shook his head, Emmett took a gulp and tried to collect himself. It was tempting to take charge and tell Luke exactly what he wanted – Luke was right; it did come naturally to him – but he reminded himself that Luke was setting the agenda tonight. Neither of them knew where his limits were yet.
Looking down, he saw the anxiety on Luke's face again, and felt a sudden pang. “No, man, it's all good. I’m loving it.” He offered the beer again. “C'mon, take a drink. Catch your breath.”
This time Luke accepted the bottle, giving him a small sheepish smile. “Thanks, Em. You're bein’ so nice.”
“Aren't I always nice?”
Luke looked less tense now but still keyed up, which was understandable. Emmett studied him as he drank. In the six or seven years they'd known each other Luke's face had lost its pretty boyishness; he was 30 now, and the years of hard work, authority, and pressure showed in the lines around his eyes and mouth, his fuller chin and slightly crooked nose. But even so, in moments like this his eyes held a youthful sweetness that recalled those early days
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Emmett took the bottle back, set it on the nightstand, and faced Luke. “Okay.” He dropped his voice so it was somewhere between soothing and commanding. “Now I need to know what you want to happen next.”
Luke turned toward Emmett but left the unbridged gap between their bodies. “Please…can I kiss you, Em?” he asked, half-laughing at himself.
“Yes.”
“Can I…I mean, am I allowed to touch you?”
“Touch me how?”
“Like, hold you while we kiss?”
“Okay.”
Emmett waited while Luke reached up to his face and kissed his mouth tentatively. The gesture was so natural by now that Emmett almost smiled at Luke's hesitation, but he understood things felt different tonight. He read something of Luke's mood in the light, cautious brush of his lips, and waited a moment or two before taking over. Reaching up, he grasped Luke's hands and pinned them against the wall, then leaned over and crushed his mouth against Luke's. A faint, strangled noise came from Luke, somewhere between a yelp of surprise and a laugh, and he parted his lips under Emmett's as though to give him better access. Emmett held the kiss as long as he could, pressing Luke back against the headboard to keep him in place, not that he seemed to want to go anywhere. When he finally broke for a breath, he felt Luke's fingers curl around his own, until, rather than being pinned, Luke seemed to be clutching him, pulling him back.
“Em!” Luke whispered.
“I'm here.”
“Em, would you…fuck me?”
Emmett almost fell on top of Luke's body. “What? No.”
“Please?”
“Luke, no.” Emmett turned away to lean back against the headboard, disconcerted, a jumble of uncomfortable memories in his head. In all the time he and Luke had been messing around, this had never been discussed. “Listen, man, we can…maybe talk about it another time if you want, but it's not up for negotiation tonight.” He glanced over at Luke, who looked more embarrassed than disappointed. “Sorry if that ruins your plans.”
“It don't.” Luke leaned up to kiss Emmett again, the same tentative touch of lips on lips. “Forget I said anything. Would you kiss me again like you did before?”
Relieved, Emmett put the discomfort out of his mind and turned back. He put his hands on Luke's arms and pulled him downward, so they were both flat on the bed. When Luke reached up for him, Emmett intercepted the movement, gathering both of Luke's hands in one of his own and pulling them over Luke's head, onto the pillow behind him. Emmett couldn’t lay directly on top of Luke – his extra seventy or eighty pounds would be crushing – but he leaned over Luke's chest to immobilize him further, and to easily reach his mouth. Luke stilled obediently and looked up, lips parted in anticipation, until Emmett dropped his head and took Luke's mouth in another long, forceful kiss.
After a few minutes Luke slipped his tongue between his parted lips, which Emmett took as an invitation to add his own – another thing they hadn't done much of in their make-out sessions to date. French kissing felt more like what Emmett would do with a girl; it hadn't occurred to him to do it with Luke. Now he found he liked using his tongue to take further control of Luke's mouth, although it wasn't strictly necessary since Luke put up no resistance.
When Emmett pulled his head back slightly, he could see Luke's eyes were closed and crinkled at the corners; when he nudged Luke's legs apart with his knee he could feel the growing hardness there. Whatever he might have felt earlier, Luke was obviously enjoying himself now. Maybe none of this should have surprised Emmett – hadn't it always been there somewhere, in Luke's hints of deference and his fascination with Emmett's size and strength?
They shifted positions occasionally so Emmett could hold Luke down in a different way, or check quickly for any signs of discomfort. At one point he considered binding Luke's hands to the headboard, as one of his ‘boys’ used to request. But off-hand he could only think of his robe belt to use as a tie, which wasn't the safest; and in any case Luke didn't ask. Whenever Emmett paused for breath, Luke chased after his mouth or whispered a breathless plea to continue, though Emmett didn't need much encouragement. It was only much later, as they lay on their sides, Luke's hands still immobilized in one of Emmett's, mouths still pressed together, and grinding now fully aroused cocks against each other, that it occurred to Emmett they were reaching the point of no return. He pushed Luke onto his back and straddled him, keeping his own weight on his knees but pressing his dick against Luke's, and looked down warningly.
“Em, Em…” Luke gasped, trying to lift his hands from where Emmett had them pressed into the bed. “Wait!”
“I'm too close –”
“If you wanna get off now – please – let me do it, let me go down or, or – but I don't wanna finish yet, do you?”
Emmett stopped moving. “I don't mind waiting but we'll have to slow down…”
“Lemme up, Em – please, please…” Luke twisted again. “If you let me I can …”
Emmett had almost forgotten his grip on Luke's hands. He let go and rolled over to lie on his back, his cock throbbing uncomfortably on his stomach. Released, Luke sat up and pushed the tangled bedding down to the end of the bed. The cool air helped, but the sight of Luke's swollen lips and heavy-lidded eyes did not.
Tearing his gaze away, Emmett reached for the beer bottle. “Go turn the thermostat down,” he ordered, mostly as a distraction. He sat up, finishing the drink, and watched Luke's slim but now muscular legs and ass as he crossed the room. When he got back to the bed, Luke lifted Emmett's arm to slip under it, and buried his face against Emmett's shoulder. Emmett reached up to stroke his hair, then gently tugged his head back to study his face. “Doing okay, Luke?”
Luke looked up at him with a half-embarrassed smile, like his secret had been exposed; which, perhaps, it had been. “More'n okay, thank you.”
Emmett bent to plant a brief kiss on the top of Luke’s head, and wondered what came next. They were both about half-mast now; with a little restraint he'd be able to hold out a while longer.
“Em?”
“Yep.”
“You…okay to keep going?”
“Sure.” Emmett took a moment to modulate his voice again. He wanted to help Luke get back into the zone, but not too abruptly, so he aimed for sonorous and only slightly peremptory. “But you need to tell me what you want, boy.” With an arm still around Luke, Emmett could feel his quick shiver.
“Could I…uh.” Luke paused, looking up at Emmett with his familiar abashed grin. “Can I have permission to, like, touch you?”
“You're already touching me.” Emmett tried to look stern. “What do you have in mind?”
“I mean, like…everywhere? Can I touch you anywhere I want? Please?”
“I thought you didn't want to get off yet.”
“I don't. I just want to touch you, is that okay?”
Emmett didn't exactly understand. “I guess so.”
They faced each other, Emmett unsure what to do next. After a moment Luke gave him a gentle nudge, coaxing him down onto the bed. Emmett obliged, stretching out on his back and watching Luke curiously.
“Relax, darlin’,” Luke said with a small laugh, responding to Emmett's uncertainty. He pulled the bedsheet up to cover them both loosely before settling himself on his side next to Emmett, propped up on one arm. Still puzzled, Emmett looked over and Luke met his gaze with a smile – not embarrassed or sheepish this time, but warm, deep, and slightly grateful, as though recognizing Emmett's confusion and thanking him for his trust.
“Okay if I turn off the light now?” When Emmett nodded, Luke turned away to switch off the bedside lamp, then bent down toward Emmett, his face growing still and soft. Emmett shut his eyes and felt the brush of lips on his own, lingering for a moment or two. He resisted the urge to kiss back, telling himself to wait and see what came next. The light touch moved away and returned on his forehead, a feathery dusting of faint kisses that moved along his hairline to his temples and down slowly, onto his eyebrows and gently on his eyelids, then his nose, his cheeks, the sides of his face, his ears. Luke was covering his entire face with kisses so light they were almost like breaths.
With a small movement, Luke rolled on top of him, easily fitting his body over Emmett's broad frame, and took Emmett's head in his hands. Instinctively, Emmett wrapped his arms around Luke's back and held him as the tiny kisses continued – along his jaw, back to his mouth, down to his chin, and then lower, grazing his throat and neck from different angles.
The sensation was unfamiliar but soothing, especially after all the earlier tension. Emmett’s skin felt warm and tingled a little where Luke touched it, but he wasn't worried about getting overly aroused again yet. After a few moments at his throat, Luke moved down to reach new places on Emmett's body – his clavicles and breastbone and shoulders. The gossamer touch changed slightly, alternating between soft kisses and light caresses, faint nips and licks. Every now and then Emmett would open his eyes, and sometimes he'd catch Luke in a quick upward glance, as though checking in on him.
Of course they'd kissed each other many times in many places during their previous nights together, but this was unlike anything they’d done previously. This felt like a lover's touch, like something Emmett might have done with Clarissa – although, now that he thought of it, Emmett didn't think he'd ever been this doting with her.
Luke moved over to one of his arms, working his way down from the shoulder to the biceps, sliding his hands partly under Emmett's back. Emmett's eyes were open now, focused on Luke's movements. What was it that made this so different from everything they'd done before?
They'd always been casually physical with each other, day or night, their hugs and squeezes and protective embraces reflecting mutual affection and support. Emmett had thought of their make-out sessions as primarily practical – to satisfy curiosity, reduce stress, help each other sleep. What Luke was doing now felt more emotional than physical, like he wanted to convey something specific through his touch – to make something clear, convincing, irrefutable. In truth, Emmett was pretty sure he understood the message, even if he wasn't sure he wanted to admit it.
Luke reached Emmett's hand and kissed the back of it, then the fingers. He shot Emmett a sly glance, turned it over and brushed his lips against the palm again, slow and caressing. He had moved down in the bed and knelt now, between Emmett's thighs, bending over to reach whatever part of Emmett's body he was targeting. Emmett couldn't reach to wrap his arms around Luke's back anymore, stroking his thighs instead. He wished Luke would lie on top of him again.
Luke's weight was never too much for him, never a burden, never more than he was happy to carry. But sometimes he worried that Luke wanted too much. Not more than Emmett was willing to give, but more than the world would let him have. So far Luke had always managed to get what he wanted, but wasn’t there a point where the world would win?
Luke finished with Emmett's first arm and moved over to the other, nuzzling against his bicep and taking care to cover every inch of it. Emmett smiled a bit and let his worries wander away. Not all of this extended homage was so pure; some of it was surely carnal. Luke made that clearer when he switched back to Emmett's chest, took one nipple in his mouth and sucked lightly – not a new move, and he knew how Emmett reacted to it. After a few moments he switched back to Emmett's chest, moving to his pectoral muscles, the V between his ribs, his stomach. As Luke worked down toward his hips, Emmett felt his by now aroused cock grow harder, and he gripped Luke's arms tensely in warning. Luke, smiling, circumvented his groin and continued down Emmett's thigh, a little faster now – knee, shin, foot; then over to the other foot and back up, pressing his mouth more urgently against Emmett's skin, until he reached the place where thigh met hip. This time Emmett's arousal would not be stopped, and by the time Luke finished Emmett was rigid with pent-up need.
“Luke – ”
Luke leaned up, hands gripping Emmett's hips, and spoke in a rush. “Can I taste you – please?”
“You better.” Emmett seized Luke's head as he got to work, taking Emmett in his mouth and moving up and down in long, rapid strokes, an expert by now. But Emmett hardly needed help tonight, climaxing within minutes in a series of forceful bursts that shot down Luke's throat almost too quickly for him to keep up with.
“Oh no, Luke – did I – ”
Sputtering and laughing, Luke wiped his mouth and rolled over on his back to catch his breath. “No, it's fine – I'm good.”
Emmett lay still, too spent to move, but he reached out languidly to Luke, who understood and moved up to stretch beside him, tugging the covers over them both.
“Thank you,” Luke whispered, backing himself up against Emmett's chest.
Emmett had just enough energy to pull Luke into his arm and kiss the back of his neck before falling asleep.