If fame made Luke nervous, it didn't bother Emmett at all. This, he figured, was what they'd been working toward for the last ten years – a reward for all their hard work. He hoped Luke would be able to take it in stride.
Touring was still the highlight of his life, and much more comfortable now. Emmett had an assistant of his own – Diane, one of his distant cousins – and a personal trainer who travelled with him, and whatever other services he might need were easily procured. By this time, he'd developed an extensive network of friends and acquaintances across the country, in addition to his own extended family, so there were people to hang out with at every stop. Sometimes he'd join Luke for big A-list events, when the rest of the band was invited. When they weren't, Luke complained about having to find a date and not being able to bring who he really wanted to. But Emmett didn't mind; he knew he'd be overshadowed by bigger names at those events anyway; he much preferred to join a local after-party or late-night club where he'd be treated like royalty all night. It occurred to him that the celebrity and party life might have tempted him, if he hadn't always been conscious of his responsibility for Luke's support and protection.
Financially he was doing pretty well, though not, he understood, as well as Luke. He'd bought his folks a new, larger house in downtown Roanoke at the beginning of the tour, and he hoped that by the end he'd be able to do something similar for Clarissa and the boys. He didn't plan to trade in his own apartment for now – since he was so rarely at home between tours – but he thought he might look around for a flashier car when he got back.
His parents and grandma came to see the show one night when it was close by, and were duly impressed. Later, when Emmett visited them in their new home, he noticed that the old photos from his wedding day – the ones his mama had removed after his divorce – had been replaced with framed articles, photos of the band, and paparazzi shots of Emmett with various dates. He figured he was back in his mama's good books.
Although he didn't quite share his parent's love of respectability or their traditional definition of success, Emmett understood the value they put on appearances. Appearances mattered, after all; society was bullshit, but social status could protect you from the worst daily indignities and ensure you were well-treated by the world. Emmett had spent enough time in undervalued jobs, in thankless support roles for bosses who barely noticed him, to appreciate what he had now.
He knew Luke sometimes struggled with the huge stadiums and massive crowds they played to these days, but Emmett loved having so much more room to move around in. It felt good to take up space on the stage, to revel in the fans’ adulation under multi-coloured spotlights, to command the crowd from his position in the band's front line. Sometimes he remembered the old, pre-B-Sides days of being huddled at the back of a platform with too many horn players, trying not to stand out or take up too much space. It was sweet not to have to hold himself back.
Luke was in much better shape now, with a wiry muscularity and power of his own, and the venues were well-ventilated, so Emmett worried about him less – which was good, since they were often too far apart onstage for Emmett to be able to catch him if he fell. Even so, they had a way of seeking each other out while they performed. Every time Luke approached Emmett's end of the stage, they instinctively reached out for each other and would end up entwined, arms around each other's back, or Luke’s head on Emmett's shoulder.
As the stages and the audiences and even the band's sound had scaled up, so too had Luke's live tributes to Emmett. While “Flaming Up” continued to be their encore, Luke started using “Mountain Home” as a show-stopping main set closer, positioning it as an homage to Emmett:
Elsie and the mountain
Elsie and the mountain
Elsie found that mountain home
Luke would station himself at one side of the stage to belt out the lyrics, and as the outro wound up he'd race straight along the riser to throw himself onto his knees in a long slide that finished at Emmett's feet.
At the end of each show, Luke grabbed Laura's hand – she took up Eddie's old position, on Luke's left – and held out the other, with his guitar, for Emmett, then raised both arms triumphantly into the air. Emmett grew to recognize the look Luke would shoot him in these moments, a question that always asked the same thing: Was it good? Did I make you proud?
Of course, he always did. Emmett had never stopped admiring Luke – not just the way he wrote music and managed crowds, but the way he ran his life. Luke took a firm business-like approach to his work yet he always stayed human, prioritizing his personal relationships over almost everything else. After ten years of leading the band, he still managed to be well-liked and respected by everyone on the team. When Emmett commented on that once, Luke had laughed and said, “I fucked up so many friendships in the past, I finally learned what counts.”
Emmett was proud to be part of Luke's team, but, most of all, he was proud to be the one who carried Luke's heart in his own. It amazed him every day that the world had turned and aligned itself so that this man, who had just captivated a stadium full of fans, chose to fall at his feet.
Still, he shared Luke's frustration at the increased difficulty in finding chances to be alone. They'd had so much more freedom during the break between tours, in the privacy of their own apartments. Emmett had been in charge day and night, then, and they'd been able to explore so many things Luke, especially, had been curious about.
“I ain't fragile,” Luke would often remind Emmett. “You don't need to take it easy on me.”
So Emmett had experimented, and reached a few conclusions. Although Luke would submit to almost anything, seemingly as a kind of challenge to himself, he wasn't especially interested in being hurt or degraded. He mostly liked obeying orders, asking permission and providing service, though at times he also seemed to enjoy being treated roughly or restrained, and sometimes fighting back. He wanted either the meditative peace of choosing to submit, or the exhilaration of being overwhelmed and rendered helpless.
By the time the tour started, Emmett had a pretty good idea of Luke's interests, abilities, and limits. He'd assumed, at first, that their activities would continue during the tour, but he hadn't counted on the changes this level of success brought – the intense public scrutiny, lack of privacy, absence of downtime, constant presence of other people. Occasionally he could set small tasks or rules for Luke to follow while they were apart, as a kind of reminder of his presence, but the casual domestic togetherness of pre-touring life was a distant memory here.
Luke still called Emmett every morning to check in – even at that time, Emmett often had to send Diane out of the room so he could speak privately – and sometimes they could join each other for meals during the day, but others would always be around. Often, now, they had separate engagements in the evening or after a show, and unless they specifically agreed on a time to meet, it was hard to coordinate afterward. If one of them arrived back early and called the other's room, the phone would ring endlessly without response; if they got back late, neither wanted to call and risk waking the other. Even slipping a note under a door was risky these days, with so many potential strangers around to find it.
The best they could do was make a firm plan once or twice a week, both agreeing to be back at the hotel at a specific time, so that Luke could meet Emmett in his room. When they were finally alone together, Emmett could feel Luke's discontent and neediness. He tried to resume the old games, but with their moments of intimacy being so limited he hated to deny Luke or apply constraints; almost everything was abandoned for more immediate gratification, which usually satisfied them in the moment but did nothing to address Luke's ongoing frustration. It felt like there was too much to cram into the few hours they could be together.
“Man, we got to find some more time alone,” Luke would say peevishly, and they'd brainstorm for a few minutes until, inevitably, Emmett was forced to be the voice of reason, pointing out that anything they did would attract attention and speculation.
“Would it be so terrible if people knew?” Luke asked finally.
“Yes,” Emmett answered with a laugh. “You're a rock star. It would mean the end of your career.”
“Who says? Bowie claims to be a bisexual – he still has a career! And – and that other guy, Elton John.”
“First of all,” Emmett said patiently, “they're English. It's different over there. And Bowie walked it right back, he says he's straight now. Even Elton John's dating a woman, I think.”
“Maybe I can be the first in America.”
“Can't you just hold out for a bit, Luke? All the tours aren't going to be like this one. It'll let up a little when we're done and then it won't be so hard.”
All of their conversations ended in some version of this, with Emmett urging patience and Luke reluctantly conceding.
***
By the middle of the tour, Luke's usual discontent was so palpable that when he showed up at Emmett’s door one night in a particularly self-satisfied mood, the change was noticeable immediately.
“What's with the smirk?” Emmett asked, pulling him inside the room.
“I'll tell ya later,” Luke answered. He put up his face for Emmett's kiss and went over to the bar fridge, so pleased with himself he practically swaggered in his jeans.
Emmett returned to the sofa in the sitting area of his suite and watched curiously. He accepted the whiskey Luke poured for him and then waited, frowning slightly, as Luke continued to pace around the room. It was after midnight, and they'd both left parties early to be able to meet here, for the first time in several days. Usually, in moments like this, Luke was near exploding with pent-up need and would beg for immediate release before being able to settle down for more leisurely conversation and extended play.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
“Come here,” Emmett said at last, and directed Luke onto the floor at his feet. They often started with a quick blow job and hand action so they'd both get off once and could take a longer time for round two, but tonight Luke was surprisingly unwilling to bring either one of them to a climax.
“Can't we get into bed first?” he asked, wheedling. “Please? I wanna…I just wanna be in bed with you.”
Emmett shrugged, still puzzled, and stood up to get ready. “I guess so.”
When he came out of the bathroom he found Luke already under the covers, still with that small secret smile. It almost seemed like Luke was too excited tonight to maintain a veneer of deference, which Emmett found mildly provoking. It's not that he was wedded to the idea of being in charge, but Luke was the one who'd insisted on this game to start with – shouldn't he at least keep up appearances? Or perhaps Emmett's unresolved hard-on was just making him cranky.
He got into bed beside Luke, who curled into him quickly, and they made out a bit more. Luke was hard too, and Emmett wondered again why he hadn't wanted to finish up earlier. Then Luke rolled his body on top of Emmett's, put his hands on Emmett's shoulders and looked down with a kind of giddy anticipation.
“So now,” he said, as though announcing something momentous they'd both been waiting for, “we can do it for real – finally! I'm ready.”
“Do what?”
“I did it, I'm experienced now. So you got nothin’ to worry about.”
“What?” Was Emmett hearing this right?
Luke didn't seem to notice his reaction, or perhaps didn't want to. He snatched something up from the night table, and showed it to Emmett quickly. “Look, I got some lube, I even used some before I came over, I just wasn't sure if…”
Emmett pushed Luke off him and sat straight up in the bed. “What did you just say, Luke?”
“I told you, I did it.” The rush of words slowed a bit, Luke re-positioning himself on the bed to face Emmett. “You said you ain't good at first times so now it's not.”
“Are you saying you…you let someone else fuck you?” Emmett suddenly found himself on his feet, not breathing, eyebrows drawn low over his eyes, too stunned to feel anything else for a moment.
“Well, yeah – like you fuck other people every day, man.”
“What? Not other guys – never, not since I met you, I've never even thought about it.” Emmett raised his hands in disbelief and spun away from the bed, then back again, hardly hearing himself speak; his words felt automatic, irrelevant, the smallest part of the disaster that was currently exploding in his head.
Luke's defiance abruptly melted away; for the first time, he looked like he knew all was not well. “Yeah okay, I know you don't…I just – ”
“You're telling me you – you found some guy and got him to fuck you so – ”
“Not some guy, Em, it was just José.”
“What?” For a second Emmett thought he might pass out, or perhaps he already had; was he dreaming this conversation? He reached for the wall to steady himself, unable to move for a moment. Then he roused himself abruptly, still half in a dream, snatched up his robe and stalked out of the bedroom toward the main door of the suite. “How dare he –”
In a split-second Luke had jumped off the bed and thrown himself in front of the door to block Emmett's path. “No, Em, no – it wasn't his fault, I swear…” He spoke rapidly, his hand flat on Emmett's chest in a futile effort to slow him down. “I asked him to – I begged him – ”
“He knows you're mine.” Emmett hardly heard Luke's words, hardly realized he had put his hands on Luke's upper arms to pick him up and move him aside; his focus was fixed on the door handle Luke's body had been covering.
“Emmett, no, don't leave, please – please don't blame José – ”
Through the raging black cloud that filled his mind, Emmett saw Luke's face and dimly realized he was terrified – was it for himself or for José? Either way, it gave Emmett a strange satisfaction.
Luke was still speaking rapidly. “I told him it was okay, I told him you were okay with it.”
Once again, Emmett's brain seemed to shut down in disbelief. “You – you – you told José I didn't mind if he fucked my – my…”
Luke seemed to wait for the final word but Emmett gave up on that thought and tried to formulate another; his mind kept spinning off in so many directions he didn't know where to go first. Finally, he managed to corral one complete question: “Did you think I'd be okay with it?”
Luke sank back against the wall, his face confirming the answer. “Em, I'm – ”
“You lied to me.”
“We never talked about other – ”
“Not about that.” Emmett slammed an arm against the wall beside the door, then took a breath. “You need to leave.” He realized Luke was still naked, and forced himself to move away, to the picture window in the sitting area. “Get dressed and go.”
“Em, please, let me – ”
“No. You have two minutes, then I'll move you outside myself.” Emmett stood with his back to the room, pressing his hands against the window. After a moment he heard scrambling sounds from the bedroom as Luke began dressing.
“I'll go – but please, please promise me you won't do anything to José – please.”
“Don't ask me for promises.” He waited without turning, listening to Luke's uneven breathing, until he heard a faint footstep, approaching. “No. You need to leave.”
At last, after another long moment, there came the click of a door opening, and the sound of Luke's shoes on the carpeted hall outside, receding into the distance, and Emmett let himself slide down the wall onto the floor.
***
The first thing Emmett noticed when he woke up the next morning was the soreness in his body. It took a moment to remember his long, intense workout at the hotel gym, where he'd gone after Luke left and he couldn't sleep. Of course that brought back all the other memories as well. He shut his eyes again and buried his head in the pillow.
“Morning,” Diane said, coming into the room. She glanced at him, then pulled the curtains open unsympathetically. “Luke was already looking for you. He says he'll be in his room till about 11 if you want to reach him.”
“I don't,” Emmett mumbled, sitting up. Then he thought a little more and figured now might be a good time to go down for breakfast and another workout, since it meant he wouldn't run in to Luke. He got up and dressed, conferred briefly with Diane on the day's schedule, and started to head out.
“What do I tell Luke if he calls again?” Diane asked blandly as he was leaving.
“Nothing.” Of course he was giving himself away; by lunchtime the whole organization would know he and Luke had had a fight. Well, that couldn't be helped.
The hotel had set aside a private dining room for the band. When Emmett arrived it was empty except for José, who sat alone at a table by the window, looking haggard. He stood up when he saw Emmett and backed away a couple of steps.
“Emmett, my man…”
Emmett walked toward him slowly, restraining himself with an effort. “Morning, José.”
“Luke told me he talked to you.” José hesitated for a moment then spoke in a rush. “Listen, I want to tell you how sorry I am, I should never have gone along with it, I thought you – I mean, he said you were okay with it, I thought I was helping! But I should never have agreed to…”
Emmett put out a hand to stop him. “Forget it, man. He can be very persuasive. I know.”
“Honest, Em, I didn't make a move on him. I know he's yours, your…cariño.”
“Whatever. Just…don't let it happen again. And if I ever hear about you telling anyone this – ”
“Never, I swear.”
“All right.” Emmett glanced at the table where José had been sitting. Despite his words, he didn't exactly want to share a meal with the man. “Guess you already ate?”
“Oh – yeah. I'm just leaving.” José threw his arms around Emmett with relief, and Emmett suddenly wondered if he'd been up all night worrying. Then he wondered if Luke had. Perhaps all three of them had lain awake in the dark for hours in their separate rooms, each of them haunted by slightly different versions of the same thing.
After breakfast Emmett went back to the gym for another long workout, the best way he could think of to burn off what remained of his resentment and pain. He took some pride in having managed so far without any recourse to violence; all the years of touring had surely taught him to manage his temper. But the confused bitterness he felt when he thought about Luke remained.
The band had a show that night, and Emmett was glad for the distraction of getting ready. His day was booked up with the usual pre-show activities – consultations with his stylist, instrument techs and manager before heading to the venue for sound check, dinner, hair and wardrobe. He was still in his hotel room, meeting with the stylist, when Diane answered a knock at the door and Luke came in.
“Hey, Em, you got a minute?”
“Not really.” Emmett kept his voice cool and didn’t look in Luke’s direction. “I'm – ”
“It's about the show.”
That was a different story; Luke was still his employer. Emmett frowned and excused himself. The suite was full of people so he followed Luke out to the hall.
“What's up?” he asked stonily.
Luke shut the door carefully behind them and glanced up and down the hall to make sure they were alone. “Thanks, Em,” he said, still trying to sound genial. “I tried to check in this mornin’ but I guess you were sleeping. Anyways, José told me you talked and everything's okay.”
“I wouldn't say that.”
“I mean, you ain't – ”
“Do you actually need to talk to me about the show?”
Luke lost the bright, eager look he'd been sporting and slumped against the wall. “No. I just needed to see you.”
Another lie. Emmett reached for the door handle. “Then I'm going back in.”
“Wait – ”
Emmett looked down at Luke's hand on his forearm, and then up at Luke's face.
“Can't we talk? Please?” Luke asked.
“Not yet.” He pulled his arm away and went back into the suite.
That night, for the first time in ten years, Emmett played on stage and wished he didn't have to interact with Luke. He did, of course – they both performed with their usual gusto, striking all the classic poses and hamming it up together in between – but his heart wasn't in it; and though even the keenest front row fan couldn't have detected it, he felt Luke's constraint as well.
And so it went on for the next two days. Every morning Emmett woke up, remembered what happened, and checked in on his feelings to see if he could manage the talk he knew they had to have eventually. But every morning he was out or instructed Diane to say he was unavailable when Luke phoned.
On the third day Emmett got a call from Angela, one of his regular dates. He liked Angela and found her very compatible with his requirements; she was smart, fun, foxy, and not at all interested in a relationship with him – she was interested in her own career as a model or dancer. He often took her to events or parties with him, where she could meet people and make connections in the entertainment industry. There was no expectation of exclusivity on either side, though she didn't know about his involvement with Luke, and Emmett was careful to sleep with her just often enough to avoid raising speculation about his interest in women.
But today, when she suggested they attend an industry dinner together and hinted at a rewarding after-party in his hotel room, he declined. Though he'd never considered his arrangement with Angela to be a betrayal of Luke – on the contrary, the whole point of it was to protect him – it somehow felt wrong just now; a kind of hypocrisy.
On the fourth day, after lunch, he found an envelope slipped under his hotel room door – sealed, with his name on the outside in Luke's handwriting. He picked it up before Diane saw it. Inside was a folded sheet of notepaper with a few scrawled words: I know your mad but don't punish me for too long. Your boy needs you. L
Something shifted inside Emmett as he read the words. Of course Luke needed him. Of course he couldn't be left alone too long. Emmett's job was to keep him safe; being angry was a luxury for people who didn't have that kind of responsibility.
It was an off day, with no travel or performance scheduled. Emmett went to the phone in the suite’s sitting area, called Luke's room, and left a message that he'd be in his hotel room all afternoon, if Luke wanted to drop by. Then he settled back to wait.