Page 118 of Untouchable

"If you hadn't woken up—" Parker squeezes Harp’s hand, interrupting him.

“But I did wake up,” he says evenly. There’s no pity in his voice now, no fear, and it’s easier to accept him at face value “Let go of the ifs right now, okay? Be here in the present moment. Check in with your senses again if you need to.”

Somewhere inside himself Harp still finds the energy to laugh.

"I think I'd be annoyed if anyone but you said anything like that to me," Harp admits. "Makes sense though. I think I'm on the other side of it."

Parker frowns but Harp won't let the thought sit there long enough to bother him.

"Thank you. It helps," Harp says, squeezing back. "That helped."

It helps, too, to feel Parker's hand in his. It helps to be reminded that this time, the ifs didn't happen.

* * *

Parker offers up a small smile,though inside, his heart is bursting with joy as Harp squeezes his hand. He can’t quite believe how lucky he is, how Harp has let him in, how Harp has allowed Parker to help him. He hates that Harp has clearly just gone through hell and back, but at the same time, a part of him is elated. They’ve reached new territory, some strange and rocky land that doesn’t feel daunting at all with Harp’s hand in his.

"I guess I should figure out a breakfast for us," Harp says.

Parker jumps up. "I can do it," he offers. "Well, I mean, I’m not gonna even try to cook but... you have cereal or oatmeal or something here, right?"

Harp frowns. "I have cereal. For emergencies. Bottom shelf in the pantry, behind the bakeware."

Still trailing the blanket, Parker goes into the walk-in pantry.

"Why would you hide it so far back in..." Parker begins but trails off as he finds Harp’s cereal selection. "Oh my God. Oh my God, Harp."

"Don't give me a hard time," Harp says, and Parker can hear the smile in his voice.

Parker emerges, shaking an unopened box of cereal in one hand and holding the blanket around him with the other.

"Honestly, I would've guessed… Grape Nuts, or maybe even Frosted Mini Wheats if you were getting real crazy with it—"

"It doesn't cost anything not to be an asshole..." Harp says, but Parker can tell he’s trying not to smile.

"But Fruity Pebbles, Harp? Really?"

Harp laughs good-naturedly, letting himself be teased as Parker pours them both too-big bowls of cereal. It feels good to take care of Harp, to see some of the color return to his face, to see the tension return from his jaw.

And Fruity Pebbles are about the funniest cereal he could imagine finding in Harp’s pantry.

He’s still smiling when he sets the heaping bowls of cereal and milk down on the table, and he hands Harp a spoon. He wants to lean over and kiss him—he can imagine it vividly, the scruff of Harp’s beard against his lips, Harp’s cheeks still chilled from being outdoors. He’s not sure if Harp is ready to be touched in that way, though, and so he keeps his distance.

Parker slides into the booth and lets the blanket fall from his shoulders, tucking his feet up underneath him as he digs into the brightly colored cereal.

“You know,” he says through his first mouthful, reveling in the sugarsweet rush of the taste. “My sisters were so mad at me when I was a kid because they never got cereal like this when they were kids, but by the time I came along, my parents were just like, too tired to argue, I think. One time Vanessa threw a Poptart at my head.”

Harp snorts. "D'y'ever stop to think that maybe it was because you're one hell of a convincing kid? I already don't know how the hell to say no to you."

Parker laughs and blushes and bunches himself up more in the booth. He never quite knows what to say when Harp compliments him like this. It’s intoxicating to be showered with praise, and it feels almost taboo, like a guilty pleasure he knows he shouldn’t indulge in but can’t resist. Harp’s words make him feel all warm and gooey inside, like caramel and melted chocolate and all the best things in the world mixed together.

“That’s not a bad thing, though,” Parker says, letting a flirtatious tone creep into his voice. “I mean, last night was pretty fun.”

* * *

Harp hadn't expectedto get confirmation that last night was anything but a mistake—even if Parker had come outside and attended to him.

Maybe he shouldn't be shocked. But he is.

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