Page 147 of Untouchable

"A movie would be great," he says. "What did you have in mind?"

“Well, I don’t really have anything, like… intellectual,” Parker says. “But… well, okay, this might sound kinda dumb, but… we could watch… Finding Nemo? It’s… kinda my favorite movie.”

Harp stares down at him blankly.

“You know?” Parker asks. “Finding Nemo? Pixar movie? Little clownfish with the bad fin?” Parker waves his hand, imitating a fish fin, and Harp still looks confused. Parker laughs and jumps up, going over to the TV and crouching beneath it to pull out the DVD. “Okay, if you think it’s super dumb we can turn it off, but—it’s really cute, I swear—it’s like, a kids movie, but there’s other stuff, too you know?”

"No—okay—I know what fucking Finding Nemo is," Harp says finally, laughing. "I live on a mountain, not in a cave."

"So...?" Parker asks. "You've seen it?"

Harp snorts. "No, absolutely not. But if it's kinda your favorite movie, you should probably put it on."

“You’re going to like it. Or, maybe not. But—well, just see. It’s cute,” Parker says, returning to the couch. He lays his head in Harp’s lap again and curls up, dragging a blanket from the back of the couch over him as the movie starts.

“You warm enough?” he asks Harp, and Harp nods.

As the movie gets going, it’s visually stimulating but Harp realizes he can’t bring himself to pay attention to it at all. He can only think about the familiar weight of Parker’s head in his lap, how much has changed in his life in less than a month. Harp stops trying to pay attention to the movie and strokes Parker’s hair.

Mindy leaves a few minutes into the movie, looking like a starlet and telling them in a deep and husky voice not to wait up for her.

The alarm for the end of the dryer cycle comes within seconds of the doorbell.

"I'll get the clothes, you get the food," Harp offers.

* * *

“Okay, sounds good,”Parker says. Harp disappears into the hallway, and Parker answers the door. It’s an outrageous amount of food, and Parker quickly arranges it into an appetizing looking spread on the coffee table. It’s definitely a feast.

When he finishes, he realizes Harp is still in the bathroom, and he knocks on the door.

“You know, you don’t, like have to get dressed,” Parker says, because he can’t help himself.

After a moment, Harp opens the door saunters out of the bedroom, his shirt still unbuttoned.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll leave a really tantalizing strip of carpet showing," he says, buttoning the shirt from the bottom and stopping just over his navel.

Parker smiles and leans in.

“You joke, but…” Parker puts his hands on Harp’s, stilling them, and leans in for a kiss. To his delight, Harp kisses him back enthusiastically, his hands automatically grabbing Parker’s waist and pulling him in. Parker loops his arms around Harp’s neck to leverage himself closer, opening his mouth and allowing access as Harp’s tongue pushes in. He’s instantly turned on, and already his body is demanding more, more, more.

Harp breaks the kiss and Parker lets out a disappointed little noise.

“Believe me, I feel the same way,” Harp says gently. “But that food smells reallygood.”

Parker laughs and grabs Harp’s hand, leading him into the living room.

* * *

It feelslike a real date now, somehow—not that the rest of the day hasn't been perfect. But Harp feels like himself again—or better than himself, he realizes, because he's been out of the house all day with only minimal worrying.

And now he's here with Parker, digging into a metric ton of food that's vaguely Southwest-ish and soggy with queso. Every bite from the first is delicious.

Harp catches Parker staring at him, and he swallows the bite he’s chewing.

“It’s delicious and perfect and you don’t have to worry,” Harp says gently. “Now eat your food.” Parker grins, as though wondering how on earth Harp read his mind. Parker digs in to his own food.

* * *

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