Page 90 of Untouchable

Parker knows he’s rambling again, and he can’t stop himself.

“You’re like, the least scary person ever. I’ve met guys your size at bars that were, like, hot, you know, but a little terrifying, and you’re not like that—” Parker chokes slightly, realizing he’s accidentally admitted to the fact that he’s always gone for guys who looked like they could pick Parker up and fuck him against a wall. “You’re so nice. And gentle. Kind of like Petunia. Like she seems like she’d be super scary but then she’s a big softie.”

Harp snorts. "If you knew how bad that dog farts and drools, I'm not sure you'd be making the comparison. But thank you, I think."

* * *

Harp resiststhe urge to pour more whiskey just yet. He likes this—openly talking about their pasts and comparing notes—but he can't decide if he's supposed to ask more questions or just... let Parker share.

He decides to risk a question.

"So this ex character—are you still friends?"

Parker makes a face.

“Uh, no. Definitely not,” he says. He glances away from Harp and his voice goes a little quieter. “He, um, made it pretty clear he didn’t want me in his life anymore.”

"His loss," Harp says, trying to keep the frown off his face. He knows he's really beating a dead horse here, but the thought of some little twerp dumping Parker makes his blood boil. "What was he like, anyway?"

“Do you really want to hear?” Parker asks, and Harp shrugs casually.

“Only if you feel like talking,” Harp says.

* * *

“Ialways feel like talking,” Parker says, and this makes Harp laugh. Parker adjusts his pillow so he’s laying down more, stretching out just enough so that his feet are only half an inch from Harp’s thigh.

“He—Cole—was… well, he was kind of the son my parents would have wanted. Like, my family loved him which is one of the reasons I stayed with him so long. It was like, well, at least I didn’t fuck up the being gay part too because I managed to bring home someone they approved of. Cole was… pretty much the opposite of you. He was super preppy and very… put together, I guess, and he was… well, pretty mean—er, not that you’re not put together, but—y’know, he was… he cared a lot about appearances.”

Parker expects to feel the familiar clenching of his chest that he always gets when he thinks about Cole, but for the first time since the breakup, it doesn’t come.

“We met when he was in med school, at a party with some mutual friends. A few months after we started dating, though, he moved here, and I, uh, actually moved here to be with him. But… yeah. After a few years, he told me he wanted to be with someone with… more potential.”

Parker laughs weakly, as if this memory still doesn’t sting, as if he hasn’t carried Cole’s words carved into his heart for the past year.

It was hardly the cruelest thing Cole said, though, towards the end.

* * *

Harp frownsand it takes everything he has not to stand up and storm off. More potential. He could put his fist through the goddamned drywall.

"Fuck that," Harp says, and it comes out just as angry as he feels. "More potential? For what? You're kind and smart and funny as hell, you have a great job, and you look like a goddamned fitness model fucked a toothpaste commercial. You're the perfect 10. That's ludicrous.”

* * *

Harp, you’re going to fucking kill me if you keep saying shit like this, Parker thinks. He covers his face with his hands.

“Well, um, thank you,” he says awkwardly when he resurfaces. He squirms again, and he realizes his breath is coming a little shorter now. He’s in serious trouble if this is the effect a compliment—probably just intended to comfort him, or keep him from crying again—has on him.

It’s pretty goddamn hard not to read into things, though, when your crush has just called you a perfect ten.

Stop it, Parker,he scolds himself. He already told you no. Give it up already.

“But, I mean, seriously, you don’t have to—I mean, like, I know he was shitty to me, Mindy pretty much spent the last year drilling that into my subconscious.”

"Apparently not well enough," Harp says. "And it's different when you're the same age as somebody. I have a different perspective. I've met a million guys your age—and I've been one too, don't forget—who had nothing going for them, or who had the world going for them but had the personality of a piece of untoasted bread."

“Well, yeah, but… I mean, it wasn’t just the job thing,” Parker says, flushing. “It was… everything. Like, not… being… educated enough, I guess. Because… I don’t really like to read or… do stuff like that.”

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