There was a tension in the air, and then Eddy let out a laugh, a real, relieved laugh that melted the strain between them just a little.  Things were very strange now, so much implied but not said; at least Eddy had liked his joke.<br/><br/>Luke relaxed, resting his elbows on the bar again to lean back in towards the other-- so he could still call Eddy 'Eddy'.  Good.  That made the boy perk up, pleased to know at least where they stood on names.  If he could still say Eddy, then maybe some of the new, massive divide between them could be bridged...<br/><br/>Ah.  That made sense, he supposed.  There was no reason for Edwin Yeoman to be a bartender, but if the world famous artist couldn't make his art anymore....  Well, he couldn't and shouldn't speculate about Eddy's reasonings, but his mind was still totally blown.  He'd be in a daze all night.<br/><br/>"No kidding," Luke said with a little snort and a grin, drinking some more cider, the pineapple taste sitting on his tongue.  "It's ok; I get it... I mean, I think I do.  It's a lot to take in.  I never imagined I'd meet someone famous."  Or be in bed with someone famous, but he left that part unspoken; they were both plenty aware.<br/><br/>"I promise not to go all google-eyed and fanatical...  It's not fair to you."  Luke would respect Eddy's privacy, would respect the man's choices-- yes, there was so much he wanted to ask, so much he wanted to understand, but he would wait and let Eddy tell him, if he ever wanted.