Page 213 of Untouchable

"How come?"

"Because Mindy just got here with your dinner," Harp says.

"Mm, what'd she get?"

"That taco salad thing she said you liked. I don't know—she said it's your favorite."

"Are you staying for dinner?" Parker asks. His eyes are still closed.

"No. Once you're up, I'm heading back home."

* * *

Parker managesto pull one eye open, and he frowns up at Harp. He feels groggy and disoriented.

The storm has passed, and while he doesn’t feel perfect, he doesn’t feel bad anymore either, just curiously blank, like he’s been given a very effective tranquilizer.

“Why not? We can get more food if—”

"You'll feel better if you get up and eat your dinner and go to the gym," Harp says. "I promise. Stick to your schedule tonight."

Parker groans, rolling over and wrapping his arms and legs around Harp like an octopus.

“You should stay. I promise my abs will still be here if I miss a day at the gym.”

"It's not about your abs," Harp says, hugging him back. "It's about endorphins, and getting some sleep before you have to work all day tomorrow. I've been hell on your schedule lately. You'll feel better if I go home—and Christmas is just around the corner..."

Parker rolls onto his side and props himself up on his elbow.

“What are you implying, Morton Harper?” he says.

"That Christmas is going to be good. I have a great present planned for you, and I wanna give it to you at least four or five times over the weekend," Harp says, deadpan.

Parker claps his hand to his mouth.

“I can’t believe you’re giving me full custody of Bo and three or four other wiener dog puppies for Christmas.”

Harp chokes on his own laugh and nearly rolls off of Parker's narrow bed. "Don't touch my fucking dogs," he finally growls in between coughs.

“Guess you’ll have to find some way to make me keep my hands to myself…” Parker says, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively as he drags his hand down Harp’s torso towards his groin. Harp catches his hand gently, not letting him get any lower, and Parker groans.

"I'm serious. You're going to feel better if you force yourself to adult tonight. I promise to make it worth your while when you come to stay for Christmas, okay? You want a hand job?"

"C'mon, don't put it like that," Parker says, laughing.

"You want me to eat your butt for a hundred hours?"

"Okay, well, I mean, I wouldn't say no to that—"

"Just try and stop me, then. But tonight you have to go to the gym and press those benches or whatever, trophy boy."

Parker rolls his eyes and laughs. It’s strange, too, he thinks, how when his mom had thrown the phrase out, it had sounded plausible, a damning epithet. But when Harp says it, it just sounds ridiculous.

“Fine,” he says loudly, sitting up and throwing the covers off dramatically. “You win. But come Christmas, I’m setting the clock for a hundred hours, and—”

He doesn’t get to finish, because then Harp is pulling him into a bear hug and tickling him. Parker yells loudly, which leads to Mindy banging on the door and telling him loudly to “stop fucking and get in here before your dinner gets cold.”

At the door, as Harp is putting on his coat, Parker stops him and draws him in for a soft, chaste kiss.

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