Page 328 of Untouchable

“Well,you know I’m always interested in incorporating toys—” Parker says. “I’m kidding.” He wraps his arms around Harp, leaning his head on his shoulder. This feels safe, comfortable. It feels like home.

There’s a million things he needs to make sure Harp knows. He needs Harp to know how much he loves him. How happy Parker is in this moment. How having Harp in his life makes every bad experience he’s ever had seem worth it, because it got him here.

Unfortunately, he’s not at his most eloquent right now.

“I had a really great night,” Parker says after a while. “I knew that… even if Gil and I still didn’t get along that you and I would be okay. But… this just makes me so much happier.” He takes a deep breath. “It’s like, y’know, I know you love me and I love you, but sometimes, when there’s other people around, you start thinking you have to prove something to them and then I overthink things but I don’t ever want to care about other people, but when it’s, like, someone who’s important to you, then you do care and that’s okay, but it’d be like… if Mindy didn’t approve of us or something, where it’d be like, okay, yeah, whatever, but it still wouldn’t be great, you know?”

Parker looks up at Harp expectantly.

* * *

"I know exactly what you mean," Harp lies generously.

He loves this unguarded side of Parker, doesn't mind that he's gotten drunk. Harp can almost imagine what Parker was like as a teenager when he's like this, because he knows what Gil was like as a teenager. He can see echoes of that person in Parker, can picture his face with baby fat and what his voice must have sounded like and how he must have been so completely earnest and excited about the world around him.

A moment like this should be goofy and trivial maybe, Harp thinks. Being the only sober one isn't supposed to be fun. But this has been a good night, and he's with the two people he cares most for in the world. And just as he'd never dreamed of a life that included someone so wonderful as Parker, Harp had never bothered even imagining Parker and Gil becoming friendly after their initial meeting. It's better than he could have wished for—better than he deserves.

He shakes his head. That's not true. You deserve Parker. You deserve this.

Parker reaches up, tracing his finger down the ridge of Harp’s nose. He smiles crookedly.

“I love you so fuckin’ much, dude,” he says. “Like, seriously. What the fuck. Sometimes I wish you could see in my head. Because it’s, like, not something I can ever use words for. It’s… bigger.” He holds his arms out wide as if measuring something. “Or like trying to describe a color to someone.”

He stops, frowning.

“And I’m not just saying this because I’m drunk. I mean, I am saying it, and I am drunk still, but—it’s, like, the most real thing in the world,” he says very seriously, and Harp has to bite back a laugh.

Harp hugs him and Parker leans into him. After a moment, Parker's upper body becomes heavier, and Harp realizes that he is absolutely falling asleep.

"C'mon hero," Harp teases, easing him off the counter and into his arms. He's never known a human adult who could fall asleep as easily as Parker does in the most unlikely of positions, but luckily he's never minded carrying Parker to bed.

When he reaches the bed, Gil is snoring soundly. Harp visualizes the stiff modern couch in the living room and decides that he'd rather be crowded than not sleep at all. He rolls Parker into bed next to Gil, kicks off his shoes, and lays down beside him. Harp doesn't realize how exhausted he is until his head hits the pillow.

"Mmlove you," Parker mumbles.

* * *

Parker wakesup the next morning feeling like he’d been hit by a train. He remembers some of the previous night, though the details certainly got patchier after they left the arcade. The last thing he remembers is trying to lift Gil out of the bushes in front of some house.

“Oh my god,” Parker moans, rolling over to face Harp. “I think I’m dying—oh my god—“

Parker has opened his eyes to see that he’s reaching out not for his boyfriend, but for his boyfriend’s brother. Gil is stirring in bed next to him. Parker sits up, looking with horror down at his bare chest.

From an armchair in the corner of the room, Harp clears his throat and folds down the newspaper he's been reading.

He's already dressed, hair combed and eyes bright.

"Feeling okay, champ?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I am feeling very not okay,” Parker says. “Why am I—why is Gil—what—what the hell happened last night?”

"You really don't remember?" Harp asks.

Slowly, Parker shakes his head, dread building.

"Well, you two got very wasted and very close, very fast."

Parker looks down at himself, then to Gil, then back at himself.

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