Page 246 of Untouchable

Harp paints the picture for Parker of his first year on Storm Mountain, when his life had been turned upside down by the accident but the way that things had seemed so clear, suddenly, the moment he stood on the property where they stand now. He tells Parker about that Christmas alone with no cell service, no wifi, when it felt like nobody in the world knew he existed—and how that had been okay with him. He'd been comforted because he felt like he'd finally found a place just for him.

He tells Parker about the little trailer, the Christmas celebration that should've been lonely but was instead hopeful, getting day drunk at his new favorite spot in the world.

"I never thought I'd share this place with anybody but a bunch of animals to keep me company," Harp says, as he winds down. "And now I can hardly think about what it's like when you're not here or on your way here or planning to come back here to me."

Gil’s cruel words have been all but banished, and instead of ick, all Parker feels is a sunny warm glow inside, lit up by Harp’s words. He doesn’t trust himself to articulate the effect of what Harp says has on him. He really has come to think of the cabin as a truly magical place, an oasis away from the “real” world, and yet, somehow, this little valley feels more real than anything else in Parker’s life.

And Harp has shared it with him. Has given this to him.

But he can’t say any of that, so he just stares up at Harp and thinks I love you, I love you as hard as he can.

He smiles.

“What year was that?” Parker asks, cocking his head.

“Five years ago—the year I turned 39.”

Parker looks off in the distance, thinking.

“Why?” Harp asks, raising his eyebrow, and Parker grins up at him.

“I was just thinking about where I was in my life then. I was still dating Cole. I think I was, let’s see... probably with my family wishing I was with him, except, of course, he never invited me to his family events. It’s just… funny to think about it, you know? How I thought my life would go one way, but here I am, and it’s just—it’s just perfect. And I can’t remember what it was like to ever want anything different.”

* * *

Harp laceshis fingers through Parker's. "You were also 21, which I... don't want to think too hard about," Harp says with a soft laugh. "You deserved more than that. And I want more than just this for you—I just..."

Harp wants to talk to him about what Parker said the night before. He needs to, but maybe this is the wrong time with Gil in town, with so much going on.

He kisses Parker instead. The words will come, he knows, if he just takes his time.

They both hear Gil as he walks up the stairs, his footfalls heavy. They part, but Harp makes a point of not letting Parker get too far from him. Something about Gil's words has made him feel raw and alert in a way he never expected to with his own brother—as if Gil were some stranger from town who doesn't know the first thing about Harp. It makes him want to be conspicuous with his guarding of Parker, and so he keeps a hand on Parker's waist as Gil enters the kitchen.

"I, uh, didn't get the best sleep last night," Gil says, not meeting either of their eyes. "Thought I might grab a beer and then bed down for a nap for a while. Maybe we can start over at dinner."

"Yeah," Harp says cautiously. "Help yourself."

* * *

Parker hasa fake smile plastered on his face, and he looks at some point in the middle of the floor, trying to think about Harp’s hand on his waist and not how heinously awkward it is to stand there silently as Gil crosses the kitchen, selects a bottle from the fridge, uncaps it, and then goes back downstairs, making an incoherent sound that might have been “g’night.”

Parker has no idea what Harp is thinking, but he hates that he’s made Harp choose between him and his brother.

“A nap might be a good reset,” Parker squeaks out once they’re alone, despite the fact that he never naps and is wide awake.

"Mhm," Harp says. "A 'nap?'" Harp makes air quotes around the word.

Parker starts to protest and Harp pulls him in for a longer kiss. Harp deepens the kiss and Parker makes a helpless little noise against him. This, he thinks, as he opens his mouth and presses himself against Harp, is a far better reset than a nap ever could be. Already he can feel his mind refocusing itself, can feel the dark funk of the morning beginning to dissipate, like a fog burning off.

“Come on—” Parker gasps, breaking the kiss, and he practically drags Harp off his feet trying to get them both up the stairs in record time. Parker is already half naked by the time he hits the sheets, their bed still unmade from the night before.

“God, Harp—” Parker whispers, practically clawing Harp’s clothes off of him. “I want you to fuck me.”

"But you said you couldn't be quiet—"

“Well—” Parker says with a laugh. “I changed my mind. I’ll make it work. Because I really, really, really need your cock in my ass, like, stat.”

"You said you were sore from last night," Harp says, frowning.

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