Page 195 of Untouchable

Parker pauses for a moment before pulling the fabric lower still, and he inhales sharply as he sees the thick, flushed base of Harp’s cock at last. He moans softly as he presses a kiss to the hot, smooth skin there.

* * *

Harp is tornbetween watching Parker and simply feeling every new sensation. Seeing Parker move is surreal and perfect and erotic, but it also means seeing his own body, acknowledging that he is part of this equation too, and he feels so oafish and strange under Parker's fit body that he almost can't reconcile the pure pleasure of the moment with the exposed, frightened undercurrent that still pulses through him.

The minute Parker starts kissing his cock, though, the struggle is over. There is nothing else in the world in that moment but the two of them, no judgments, no histories, no expectations.

It's been so long—but no, he corrects himself.

It has never been like this: unhurried and indulgent and full of passion for one another beyond the meeting of their bodies.

Parker lets out another noise, an impatient whine, as though he’s not the one setting the pace. He exposes more of Harp’s length, covering every part he can reach with soft, closed-mouth kisses. Harp’s cock strains against the last remaining bit of fabric trapping it, and Parker desperately looks up at Harp through his lashes.

“Can I?” he says.

"Please" is the only word Harp seems to have left in his vocabulary. No touch is enough right now, now that he's given himself permission, now that he's not afraid to feel his own pleasure.

He knows in the bottom of his heart and his mind that neither of them will regret this, but he's glad that they waited this long, until all of his doubts were erased.

If he gets hurt now, it will be something he participated in, bought into, a risk he decided to take and not an accident.

* * *

And at last,at last, Parker removes the final barrier between them, pulling down Harp’s underwear in one long, steady movement and tossing them aside. As he’s shifting back on top of Harp, he pauses for a moment, drinking in the sight of Harp laid out beneath him, broad and solid and steady, so strong and so gentle all at once, his eyes heavy-lidded and his cock swollen and leaking.

“Fuck,” Parker whispers. “God—you’re… you’re so fucking—”

He can’t even come up with a word to describe what it’s like, to describe wanting so much, and simultaneously feeling like he has everything he’s ever needed. He scrambles up to kiss Harp once more, fierce and desperate and inelegant, nearly clacking their teeth together in an effort to be as close to Harp as he can. Parker moans into Harp’s mouth as their bare cocks slide along one another, and he’s gone almost as soon as he was there, pulling back so he can wrap one hand around the base of Harp’s cock.

It’s the most difficult thing in the world to resist the urge to take Harp’s whole cock in his mouth in one, eager swallow, and again he reminds himself to move slower for Harp’s sake, if not for his own. He licks a long, wide stripe up the underside of the shaft, all the way to the tip, sighing softly as he finally tastes Harp.

Parker traces his tongue around the head of Harp’s cock, enjoying all the little noises and gasps Harp makes. Parker had half-expected Harp to be quiet and stoic throughout, but it turns out he’s delightfully responsive, and Parker loves the feedback, using it as encouragement to keep going. He takes the head in his mouth, swirling his tongue across the tip as he slowly strokes the shaft, slicking it with the precum that’s trickled down.

Harp moans, and Parker nearly laughs—giving a blowjob has never felt so… funbefore.

Sure, he’s always enjoyed the act, enjoyed making someone else feel good. But this—this is different. It feels less like a service rendered and more like a conversation he’s having with Harp’s body, a way for him to communicate how much he adores Harp, how grateful he is to Harp about, well, everything, really.

He settles into a rhythm, stroking his hand and moving his mouth, and he tastes another salty burst of precum as Harp’s cock pulses in his hand. He’s only vaguely aware of the obscene noises he’s making as he works Harp’s cock, and his eyes are closed in concentration.

Finally, though, he can’t hold himself back any longer. With the head still in his mouth, Parker releases the shaft, bracing his hands on the mattress on either side of Harp’s hips. He sinks his mouth down, taking Harp’s entire cock in his mouth. Harp is big enough that Parker has to shift and relax his throat to take Harp even deeper, and he only narrowly avoids gagging. When his nose touches Harp’s belly and his lips are wrapped around the very base of Harp’s cock, he opens his eyes, looking up at Harp.

He can’t help it—even with his mouth completely full, he laughs.

* * *

Harp is consumedwith the feeling and the sight and the reality of Parker deep-throating him.

To be completely sheathed is almost too much—the heat and slickness of Parker's mouth and throat, the velvet feel of it all, he's lost to it, watching Parker with intense concentration. When Parker laughs, the movement of his body around Harp's makes Harp shiver but his heart falls into the pit of his stomach. What has he done wrong to ruin the moment?

Parker stops laughing and quickly pulls off. His brow knits, and Harp wonders if he’s aware of the obscene thread of saliva between his lips and the tip of Harp’s cock.

“What?” he asks hoarsely. “Was that—was that too much?”

"Are you kidding?" Harp asks breathlessly. The raw edge of Parker's voice connects directly with Harp's cock and he pulses in spite of himself. "It was... Jesus, Parker. I don't know—you laughed—did I do something wrong?"

* * *

Parker’snever felt his heart break while somehow still being so happy, and he scrambles forward, yanking Harp so he’s sitting upright. He pulls Harp in for a crushing, breathless kiss, and when he breaks it, he looks at Harp as seriously as he can.

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