Page 285 of Untouchable

Was it really that dramatic? Did I fuck up thatbad?

It’s hard to tell. He’s always been bad at understanding what he must seem like from the outside and worse at understanding what people think and want.

Looking back now, it almost seems… salvageable. But everything in his heart tells him he fucked it all up.

Harp takes a deep breath and assesses the physical damage of last night’s drinking, expecting to be nauseated or to feel the pounding of an oncoming migraine. But even as he moves experimentally, prying Bo off of him and gently nudging Gunny to one side, Harp feels… okay. Physically, at least.

He decides to accept the blessing without asking any questions.

Gil isn’t up yet when Harp pads into the kitchen and starts turning on lights.

Harp starts his day quietly, putting on coffee, setting out food for the dogs, and gathering together everything he’ll need to make breakfast. French toast: Gil’s favorite.

Half an hour later, Harp is delicately dusting the French toast with powdered sugar when Gil appears in the doorway.

"I thought you said you were gonna be hungover?" Gil asks.

"I kind of am," Harp lies.

"And yet you're up here, Martha Stewarting and shit. I thought you were just gonna call me an Uber and kick me out after last night."

Harp frowns. If he had done that, he wouldn't have been out of line. But... Harp needs to make peace with Gil before he leaves. He understands that even if Gil acted out of line—which he did and Gil seems to know, even if he's not repentant—he also remembers that Gil was his only ally for years before Parker came along.

And maybe, Harp realizes, the way he's been treating Gil wasn't entirely fair. They may be brothers, but Harp has raised Gil as much as or more than their parents ever did. When it comes to big life changes—things like falling in love—Harp hadn't been thinking of himself in a parental role with Gil, hadn't thought about any of the fears Gil might have or concerns about Parker.

He'd only been thinking about himself. Which is... pretty par for the course, Harp realizes now.

"I know. I haven't exactly been the best host for your visit," Harp admits. "Can we sit down and have a nice breakfast? I know you're leaving this morning but maybe we can... start over."

“Yeah,” Gil says with a weak smile as he slides into his seat. “That sounds… really fuckin’ good.”

* * *

Parker is bookedsolid with clients through Wednesday morning, and it’s a relief. He’d woken up to a rather cold text message from Harp, and now he’s glad to have appointment after appointment to fill his thoughts so he can’t spend time obsessing.

At lunch, though, when he checks his phone, his heart sinks. No new messages from Harp. He has no idea where they stand or what Harp wants. And he’s embarrassed to find himself wishing that Harp will reach out, as if that will somehow prove Harp’s feelings for him.

So, while he’s waiting for The Salad Shack to pick up his and Mindy’s orders, he bites the bullet and texts Harp.

>>PARKER: how are you feeling?

It feels woefully inadequate, but Parker’s never had a way with words, and so he sends it before he can second guess himself. He knows he’ll be checking his phone obsessively, waiting for a response, overthinking how long it takes, et cetera, et cetera, and so he slips his phone into his scrubs pocket.

* * *

Harp doesn't knowwhat time it is when Parker texts him.

Harp should feel claustrophobic because this is what he has feared in the past—anyone relying on him, anyone needing him. He knows he's going to write Parker a response that inevitably lets him down.

He has a million things to say to Parker and no words.

Harp loves Parker, undeniably.

But he can't just... tell Parker how he feels—not after the night before, the way Harp had mishandled himself, the odd way they had left things. It would be manipulative and wrong and he wants Parker to know that he's going to do a better job before he asks to be loved again.

The fatalistic mood from the night before has mellowed as he has sobered and metabolized his hangover and the embarrassing reality of the person he’d been last night. It’s not as black and white as he told himself when he followed Gil to the car.

Harp fucked up—that much is apparent—for both Gil and for Parker. But most importantly for Parker. Harp has to salvage this.

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