Page 115 of Untouchable

He hugs his knees into his chest, still smiling out at the snowy landscape.

He’s certainly the happiest he can remember being in a long, long time.

* * *

Despite the chillin the air, Harp is pouring sweat by the time he gets to welding. He's had his safety earmuffs on since he came outside, lulled by the sound of his own breathing loud in his ears, seduced by the easy way that the dulled noise also dulled the reality around him. It's a bit like being under water, and with the snow reflecting light at odd angles, the entire morning has a quality of surreality that is difficult to pinpoint.

It's even stranger, then, when Harp lowers the welding mask over his face and is plunged into darkness. He likes welding because of how abrasive it is, how loud and hot and permanent. The sound of electricity arcing still wakes up something animal and afraid in him every time he hears it. There's something forbidden about the whole thing—a process you can't watch with your naked eye or feel with your bare hands that unsettles you at your core.

Yep, Harp,he thinks wryly at himself. You're only really alive when you're welding. Congratulations. You've romanticized goddamned welding.

At least it’s better than thinking—than worrying—about Parker.

* * *

Parker waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And still no Harp.

He’s been cuddling Bo on the window seat, but eventually he is too impatient to see Harp. He feels like a kid on Christmas morning, brimming with excitement at the prospect of kissing Harp by the light of day. And while he knows he needs to get home today—and it looks like the roads will be passable, unfortunately—he’s hoping, too, that perhaps before he leaves, there will be a chance for them to fool around a little.

And, if he gets really lucky, maybe Harp will let Parker get him off.

He doesn’t bother going upstairs for his shirt, and just wraps the blanket a little tighter around himself as he slips into the oversized snowboots he’d used the day before.

The air bites at his nose and cheeks, but it feels good, at least for a short amount of time. He follows a god-awful screeching sound to the small shed out back and pushes open the creaky door.

* * *

Harp finishesthe last weld needed to secure the winch on the back of his truck and steps back, flipping his mask up to admire a weld that looks like a perfect stack of dimes.

"Hey..."

Harp startles like a nervous horse and the welding torch clatters to the concrete floor.

"Holy shit Parker," Harp says, breathless. Parker is an angel haloed in bed head, backlit by the late morning light and wrapped in a blanket.

Everything rushes back to him, hitting Harp straight in the gut—all of the fears that he has, spiraling in the background, that he’s made a mistake, that Parker has made a mistake, that once again Harp had given into lust instead of using his best judgement—and that once again, Harp will lose the best thing in his life because of it.

"I was trying not to scare you," Parker says. His grin is too big, too wide.

Harp stares at him, maybe more surprised than he should be and not sure what to say. "Why aren't you dressed?"

* * *

Parker feelsthe smile die on his face.

“I, uh... just woke up,” he says, despite the fact that he’s been awake for over an hour now. He pulls the blanket around himself tighter, suddenly self conscious of his bare chest. There’s something harsh in the set of Harp’s jaw, and Parker realizes with a sinking feeling that he’s not talking to the same Harp who’d sucked pink marks against Parker’s skin, who’d lapped Parker’s release from his stomach as though it was the best thing he’d ever tasted, who’d called Parker baby, smiling crookedly as he drifted into sleep.

“The, uh, fire alarm went off,” Parker says, not quite meeting Harp’s eye. “I took out whatever it was, but it’s definitely burnt.”

"Oh, fuck me," Harp growls, stripping the helmet off his head and tossing it towards his work bench. "I completely forgot. Oh, goddamn it."

Parker flinches as the helmet clatters loudly, spinning off the workbench and landing on the floor. He feels like he’s done something wrong by allowing the fire alarm to go off, because Harp seems upset, but Parker isn’t sure how or what he should have done differently.

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