Page 295 of Untouchable

All of this is for you. The words are jewel-bright, beating in his chest like a hummingbird.

It’s everything he’s needed to hear, and yet he’s still afraid to trust it. It seems too easy, though, too... lucky, almost, that all of this could be simply because of Harp’s odd and unpredictable communication style.

Parker’s breath is coming short and shallow, and the corners of his vision darken.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

He has so many things to say, but that’s the question that squeaks its way out first.

"I... couldn't just lead with I love you. It's not enough," Harp says, frowning. "I don't want you to want to be with me just because we love each other. I want you to be with me because I'm... good and I try and I do the right things for you. Or I will."

Parker can’t help it. He starts to laugh. It’s an ugly, hysterical, helpless kind of giggle, and he sinks down at the kitchen table, barely able to breathe.

It’s so... bizarre and yet, there’s a strange kind of logic to it. It’s so very Harp—thoughtful and deep and loving and completely counterintuitive to how anyone else’s mind works.

He puts his head down on the table for a moment as he laughs, and he feels as though some kind of exchange is happening, as though the immense pressure within him is equalizing.

Finally, he lifts his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says, wiping at the tears in his eyes. “I’m not laughing... at you, it’s just—oh god this is all so much—“

* * *

Harp isn'tsure what he's done wrong. It seems like he's fucked things up—at least, this isn't either of the reactions that Harp had planned on. Either Parker was going to stalk out coldly for the last time or he was going to fall into Harp's arms so that they could live happily ever after together. He hadn't counted on whatever's happening now, on a Parker that is neither of these things.

Parker takes a deep, gulping breath.

“Can you—can you sit down, please?” Parker says. “I’m sorry—I just—oh my god—oh boy—”

Harp sits at the table next to Parker, maintaining a safe distance between them. It seems like he's made Parker sick to his stomach.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what to do," Harp admits, feeling absolutely lost.

* * *

Parker managesto calm himself down, and when he looks up at Harp, Harp looks thoroughly upset.

“Oh, Harp,” Parker says softly. He reaches across the table and takes Harp’s hand. He knows he probably shouldn’t, that touch will make it harder for him to set out his boundaries, but somehow, he’s not as concerned about that anymore.

This is Harp, he thinks. Not Cole, or one of his family members, who are all skilled in the art of emotional manipulation. Parker doesn’t need to be on his guard, because Harp may have hurt him, may have made a mistake, but it wasn’t malicious.

And once Parker realizes this, he wonders how he could have ever thought otherwise.

“Harp,” he says, running the pad of his thumb over the familiar contours of Harp’s broad hand. “I—I came here thinking this was the end, that you were done with me for… god, I don’t even know why. I thought maybe you believed Gil, or you’d just decided I wasn’t worth the hassle, or whatever. I spent the whole session preparing to say goodbye to you. And Bo.” He smiles weakly. “And then you told me about all of these things you were going to do, and you found me a therapist, and were so sweet and I wanted to be happy for you, but I couldn’t, because all I could think about was how much I wanted to be there, with you, while you did all these things.”

He takes a breath.

“But… you’re Harp,” he says. “You don’t… think about things the way I do. I assumed that because you didn’t mention me, it was because you didn’t want me. And I guess… you thought—fuck, I have no idea what your logic is, but it doesn’t even really seem to matter now, because—”

He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. The brakes have been cut, it seems, and he needs to stop himself before he gets carried away.

He pulls back, needing to put a little space between them before he declares his love and jumps into Harp’s lap and makes the same mistakes all over again.

He squares his shoulders and looks Harp in the eye.

“Harp, I—I love you, too. So fucking much. I think you know that. But—but I want us to be better, too, and—and for my own sake, I need to say some stuff and lay things out. And I know you apologized for some of this stuff, and I don’t want to beat a dead horse or something, and I want to move forward but, I just—I just have to say it, okay?”

"Of course," Harp says, shaking his head. "Anything. Tell me."

---