Page 134 of Untouchable

>>PARKER: I approve

>>PARKER: and im holding up my end of the bargain

He fills up his 32oz water bottle in the bathroom sink and holds up his phone, recording a clip of his reflection chugging the entire bottle in one go. As soon as he stops recording, he groans, his stomach suddenly painfully full, and lays back down, sending the clip to Harp.

He’s being ridiculous, he knows, but he’s also kind of hoping that if he keeps sending Harp shirtless pictures, something might happen. He doesn’t even know what he’s hoping for, he just knows that, whatever it is, he wants it.

The reply comes quickly.

>>HARP: Better. Thank you. Going to sleep now?

Parker wriggles out of his pants and slides under the covers. He’s wide awake now, and he feels like there’s someone marching around inside his head, banging pots and pans, demanding something—but they won’t actually say what.

>>PARKER: maybe… unless you have a better idea?

>>PARKER: im open to suggestions

* * *

Harp's phoneblasts the sound on the video that Parker sends to him.

God, seeing him moving around is even worse than still pictures, even if it's just a weird video of him drinking.

The video loops as Harp reaches for his own water. The rhythmic sound of Parker gulping at full blast does something to the base of Harp's brain and he scrambles to pause the video.

The thought of Parker needy and flirting, along with the pictures from earlier, are enough to drive Harp to distraction. He needs to shut it down. He wants to know where Parker would take things, if Harp would let him. Harp is drunk enough to let himself play the part of the disapproving prude.

>>HARP: Don't be crude.

Harp types a period. Then deletes it. Types it again.

With the period, it looks too stern. Without the period, it looks unfinished. But an ellipses looks suggestive and that's definitely not the tone Harp wants to convey. He wants... casual, fond disapproval, he decides. He deletes the period at the end of the sentence and sends the text.

He decides to stay in his room instead of going back downstairs, where he'll fall onto the uncomfortable bed with the dogs. He'll clean up in the morning, and the dogs won't mind if he doesn't go back downstairs to turn off the lights.

While Harp waits for a reply, he strips down to his boxers, kills the last light, and slips into bed.

* * *

Part of Parkerpanics when he gets Harp’s response, but then he remembers: this is Harp. This is how Harp jokes. It had taken Parker weeks to learn not to take everything Harp said literally, and he’s finally beginning to understand Harp’s strange, dry sense of humor.

And he’s trying not to do that thing again, where he’s needy and clingy and fragile, forcing Harp to soften everything, to cater to Parker at every turn.

It’s still not easy to trust, to err on the side of assuming good intent instead of malice, but he’s learning.

And with Harp, it feels possible.

He grins at his phone.

>>PARKER: ok but what if i WAS crude

* * *

Harp groansand rolls over in bed. The thought of what Parker might send—if Harp let him—makes it even more difficult to ignore the hard-on that's suddenly back.

>>HARP: Then I'd probably have to sweetly remind you that it takes very little to drive me wild and you have very generously offered to go slow.

Harp looks at the long text message, which he hates but which he knows he should send.

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