Page 104 of Untouchable

He knows what most of Harp’s body looks like, but he’s never allowed himself to use that knowledge in this context. He’s delighted to find that it’s like he’s discovering Harp for the first time, all over again. In the moonlight, now.

“What’s that?” Harp says, his voice rumbling through Parker’s whole body, and Parker picks his head up and blinks. He realized he’d mumbled some of this aloud without realizing it.

Parker grins at him crookedly.

“I said… it’s like… it’s like hiking,” he says, and then laughs. “I… it made sense in my head. I think I definitely am feeling it. The weed.”

He trails his hand across Harp’s broad chest, resting it in the direct center.

* * *

Harp takesParker's hand in both of his. He feels impulsive and reckless because for the first time tonight—for the first time in a long, long time—Harp is not afraid to be who he is in front of someone else.

And the person that Harp is wants to kiss Parker's fingers. He brings the hand up to his mouth and kisses the cupped palm, then the back. Parker's hands are so important. They are the first way, really, that the two of them connected.

It's so strange, Harp realizes now as he slowly spreads Parker's fingers to kiss the hills and valleys of the soft skin, to be touching Parker instead of things being the other way around. He's lost in the moment, in the brush of lips against the warmth of Parker's hand.

* * *

Parker laughs softly—it’sreally more of a giggle—as Harp begins to kiss across his palm, up and down his fingers. He’s never had this before, never kissed like this before—kissing has always been a prelude to something else, something better or more, but for the first time, Parker doesn’t feel as though kissing is less than sex. Nothing Harp is doing feels perfunctory, the way kissing, and foreplay, has been so often in the past.

Parker finds himself thinking, in fact, that this slow exploration of every bit of his hand, feels less for Parker’s benefit, and more for Harp’s. And that’s absolutely perfect. He likes this feeling, as though existing, simply being, is cause enough for Harp’s worship.

Parker’s eyes are half closed by now—he doesn’t feel drowsy at all, but he does feel like he’s floating and anchored all at once. As Harp’s lips brush the pad of his index finger—a dry, chaste kiss—Parker can’t help pressing his finger every so slightly into the warm heat of Harp’s mouth.

Harp parts his lips instinctively and Parker slips the tip of his finger in.

Oh, fuck, Parker thinks as he watches Harp suck on his index finger. A shiver of pleasure rolls down his spine, and his cock throbs. He’s never been quite so aware of how many nerve endings are in his fingers, and he tilts his head back, moaning openly.

* * *

It's so unexpected,so unlikely in its eroticism, that Harp can barely draw a breath into his lungs before he's sucking on the finger, lavishing attention on it.

Parker lets out a soft noise and Harp looks up, expecting to see a look of mild disgust or amusement on his face. Instead, Parker is worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and watching intently the way that his finger disappears up to the knuckle between Harp's lips.

Harp thinks for a moment that Parker is pulling away. Instead, he moans and slips another finger into Harp's mouth.

Harp sucks again, slowly taking both fingers to their base as Parker's eyes widen. This is a hell of a loophole, but Harp figures that it still counts as kissing.

Although, with that logic, you could just suck his cock... Harp hums, concentrating on the task at hand, as it were. He bobs lightly on the fingers, imagining more, imagining the taste of Parker's body, imagining that the sounds he's dragging out of Parker right now are even more intense.

* * *

Parker wondersif Harp is trying to tease him, if he knows that all Parker can think about is imagining the tongue now twisting around the tips of his fingers on the head of his cock instead. He shifts in Harp’s lap, trying to bring his focus up his body and away from his cock so he doesn’t end up grinding against Harp again.

He concentrates on his free hand, which is still resting helplessly on Harp’s shoulder, and traces along Harp’s neck and down to his chest. He undoes one of the buttons of Harp’s flannel, teasing it open a little further, and slides his hand underneath, running his hand along Harp’s collarbone to his shoulder before bringing his hand back to rest on Harp’s pectoral.

Harp shifts, and Parker can feel Harp’s hard-on pressing against him. He again resists the urge to grind, instead slipping his fingers out of Harp’s mouth and moving to kiss him deeply, his hand still braced against Harp’s chest underneath his shirt. He’s afraid Harp will pull his hand away, that Parker has gone too far, but Harp just brings his hands to Parker’s hips for a moment, his fingers digging into Parker’s skin slightly.

Harp seems to be letting Parker take the lead, and he’s more than happy to. Now that he’s high and horny, it feels as though every two seconds he forgets all over again and has to remind himself that there are boundaries, that they won’t do much more than kissing.

And maybe some touching. Touching seems okay. Touching seems good, especially considering the fact that one of Harp’s hands is underneath Parker’s shirt, stroking his low back once more.

So, as Parker continues to kiss Harp, biting on his lower lip, all but shoving his tongue down Harp’s throat, he lets his hand trail down to a place he hasn’t been yet, his fingers brushing across the hard peak of Harp’s nipple.

* * *

Harp holds still,acutely aware of his cock trapped between their bodies and of the hand resting on his chest. He was an idiot to think that they would be able to get through this on their best behavior, especially when the gentle buzz of a high is making everything so texturally interesting, so easy to dwell on and drink in.

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