Page 152 of Untouchable

“Not true,” Parker says. He hooks his finger into the waistband of Harp’s jeans but when Harp doesn’t respond, Parker’s face doesn’t fall. He simply… moves on.

Parker leans back and takes his cock in hand, giving it a few firm strokes. The sight ignites the urgent need sparking through Harp’s body.

"I'm not interested in arguing with you about an objective truth," Harp says, stilling Parker's hand and replacing it with his own. He catches Parker's mouth with a deep kiss, ghosting his fingertips up the underside of his cock and memorizing the way Parker arches against him with need.

He breaks the kiss before they get into a steady rhythm, though, because he doesn't want to repeat what they did together the other night. He wants more from Parker this time, to taste him.

"I want you to come in my mouth," Harp says, and he realizes he's blushing and not quite making eye contact with Parker, but he feels tonight like it's important to communicate, to get permission. "Is that alright?"

* * *

Parker’s mouth drops open,and for a moment, his entire brain is shorted out by hearing something so unmistakable, so filthy, tumble out of Harp’s mouth. The way Harp says it, too, makes it sound like it’s a favor that Parker is doing Harp, which is unbelievable.

How could Harp possibly make getting Parker off sound like such a gift to him? The men he’d slept with before had usually been obliging, but there had always been a certain undercurrent of obligation, as if they were going down on Parker simply to ensure reciprocation.

But with Harp, it isn’t like that at all.

“It’s okay, we don’t—” Harp starts, and Parker realizes he’s been staring at Harp, mouth agape, as he reeled in shock.

“No,” Parker says, grabbing Harp’s forearm and digging his fingernails in accidentally. “I mean—yes—yes, I want that, yes that’s—very, veryalright—”

As they kiss, Harp works a hand between their bodies to cup Parker, stroking him lightly. Finally, Parker breaks their kiss with a gasp and Harp pulls away. He holds Parker by the base and trails kisses down his body, sliding down the couch to the neat thatch of hair that starts in a perfect line at the very bottom of Parker's belly. He traces the ridges of Parker's hips with the tip of his tongue before laying his cheek against the skin of Parker's inner thigh.

"If I could build a house and move in right here," Harp says, punctuating the statement with a gentle kiss where his cheek was just resting, "I'd do it."

“I’d be okay with that,” Parker says. His voice is strangled, and though he’s fighting to play it cool, it clearly isn’t working. His cock keeps twitching wildly in Harp’s grip, and Parker knows he’s dripping precum, can feel it trailing down his shaft.

The truth is, though, Harp is driving Parker mad. Parker’s not sure if Harp is trying to tease him, but he can feel Harp’s breath ghosting against his cock, and the sensation is intense and intimate and erotic. And even though he’s thoroughly focused on the proximity of Harp’s lips to his groin, a distant part of Parker wonders what Harp’s other hook-ups have been like, wonders how experienced Harp is. The confident way he’s taken Parker in hand and kissed down his body are incongruous with the hesitant, abashed way Harp sometimes behaves around Parker.

* * *

Harp really would becontent to lay here on top of Parker and simply explore him with no end goal, but his desire to bring Parker pleasure overrides his curiosity, his impulse to carefully catalog. After a moment of taking it all in, Harp relents, rolling to his belly between Parker's thighs and dragging a long stripe with his tongue up the underside of Parker’s perfect cock, from base to tip, capturing the first salty taste of Parker and pausing to savor it.

He moves lower, hitching Parker's thighs up so that Harp can worship his balls.

Parker’s breath catches in his throat as Harp’s tongue traces up his cock, hot and wet, flicking over the head. Parker arches and moans and rearranges himself so that his bare feet are braced on Harp’s broad shoulders, completely vulnerable and exposed, begging to be taken.

There’s something about seeing Parker spread with no inhibitions that is almost too much.

But it’s also not even close to enough.

As Harp continues his exploration, Parker moans and turns his head, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow, seeming to be lost to everything but the sensation of Harp’s mouth on him.

The further Harp goes, the more scrunched up on the couch he feels. Finally, he pulls off completely and moves to the floor, knocking the coffee table hard with his hip and almost sending their glasses on top flying.

Parker whines at the lack of attention and Harp issues a low, "C'mere," before moving him by the hips again so that his feet are on the floor on either side of Harp. It's easier like this, and Harp is more comfortable, despite still feeling vaguely like he's in the living room of a dollhouse with its claustrophobic proportions.

He's done with teasing now and Harp moves with purpose, kneeling and arranging Parker exactly how he wants him, pulling him out until his ass is at the edge of the couch cushion and hoping to God that he can trust Parker this time when he says there's no way Mindy's coming home soon.

* * *

“Harp,”Parker pleads, but he’s not even sure what he’s asking for. He spreads his feet a little wider, tilting his hips up to offer himself to Harp. He knows he’s being slutty and needy and demanding, but he’s also well beyond caring at this point.

“It’s okay, baby,” Harp says, his voice grounding amidst the swirl of sensation and emotion. “I’ve got you.”

Parker feels like he’s coming apart at the seams from anticipation alone, and he twists one hand in his own hair, the other hand scrabbling to grip the edge of the couch cushion, as if this will keep him from falling apart entirely.

When Harp finally takes Parker’s cock in his mouth, it’s torture and relief all at once, and Parker realizes he’s making a ridiculous amount of noise, ragged gasps with each inhale, high, needy moans with every exhale. He’s not even trying to be porny—well, not trying that much, anyway—but Harp brings out that side of him, it seems. Harp does something with his tongue that makes Parker cry out and nearly yank out a hunk of his own hair, so he releases his grip and brings his hand to Harp’s shoulder, trying—and failing—not to dig his fingernails into him.

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