Page 317 of Untouchable

"Still okay?" Harp asks in a low voice.

* * *

“Um, yeah,”Parker says with a grin. “I’m about as okay as it’s possible for anyone to be.”

Parker feels a little bit like his head might explode, but in a good way, if that was even possible. The night has taken so many turns—a fun evening with friends to a romantic date to a confrontation with an ex, and now this—Harp’s hand on his cock, in a shadowy corner of a parking lot, and the hot, almost feral glint in Harp’s eyes.

He can’t even wait until he gets you home,Parker realizes, and it sends a hot thrill rolling through his body.

Parker has never done anything quite so illicit. He’s fooled around in a car before, of course—that was how he’d spent more than a few evenings after soccer practice in high school. But this is different. For starters, his cock is all the way out now, and currently being stroked. And he’s with Harp, so every touch, every moment of contact, feels electrified.

“If someone catches us—“ Parker says, not because he cares but because Harp is normally the voice of reason in these situations, and someone has to be, apparently.

Or maybe not, because by now Parker is pretty sure he’ll die if Harp removes his hand and suggests they drive home.

"If someone catches us, then I should probably make the risk worth our while," Harp says.

Then Harp is shifting, leaning over, and—oh my god—

“Oh Christ—“ Parker inhales sharply as Harp takes the head of his cock into his mouth. His hand flies to the back of Harp’s head, his fingers tangling in Harp’s hair. “That’s so fuckin’ sexy, oh my god—“

Harp laughs, a low rumble that rolls through his body into Parker’s, and Parker squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying to get a handle on the quick-rising tide of need building inside him.

* * *

He doesn't careabout getting caught. Harp's focus is entirely on making Parker come, making him feel good, letting him know how valuable and rare and amazing he is.

It only takes a second to find a position where he can actually get his lips to Parker's cock. And sure, maybe it involves cramming himself up against the dashboard with the gearshift digging into his hip... Even so, there's nowhere on earth Harp would rather be right now.

Parker gasps softly when he realizes the trajectory and shifts back to give Harp more room. The first taste of him is salty and distinctly Parker.

I'm sure there's a joke about dessert here somewhere,Harp thinks.

Harp doesn't bother with teasing. He's decided that he'll take all the time he wants with Parker after they get home, since Parker is invariably ready for a second round when it comes to sex with Harp.

It's not until Harp is swallowing around him, taking Parker's cock as deep as he can, that Harp is struck by the thought that this isn't the first rushed blowjob he's given in someone's front seat.

A few months ago, the thought would've halted all progress and destroyed anything approaching a romantic mood for Harp—but not tonight. It's not that Harp has forgotten his past, or started ignoring it because Parker doesn't care. It's simply that there's nothing left that could ruin this for him. This is all he's ever wanted: someone who doesn't judge, someone who will go along with any silly whim, someone he loves—who he can worship and adore. It's better than Harp could've ever dreamed and as he teases and works, he drinks in every detail—the pulse of precum, the sounds Parker makes, the feeling of his strong hands curling in Harp's hair.

* * *

Harp is workingParker’s cock in earnest, now, and it’s clear he’s not even trying to give Parker a moment to catch his breath. And while, physically, Parker isn’t to the edge yet, mentally he feels like he’s close to coming. It’s all so overwhelming and perfect, and he’s losing his mind a little bit—so he keeps talking, because that’s what Parker does.

Harp makes a garbled noise which sounds suspiciously like a self-satisfied mmhmm. Parker doesn’t even bother to slow himself down. He angles himself back a little further, shifting so the back of his head is wedged against the seatbelt holder, and while it’s not comfortable, it does allow him to shift his hips up towards the slick heat of Harp’s mouth.

“It’s like—I was thinking I can’t believe I said that to Cole, but maybe I can because—oh, fuck—that is who I am, y’know? The way I was when I was with him, that wasn’t—fuck, Harp, that’s so good—that wasn’t me. But this is. And you helped me—ah—“

* * *

I know, Harp thinks, and I'm proud of you. Harp knows he'd be wearing the biggest grin if he weren't otherwise indisposed.

Harp alternates long strokes with his hand, his lips, his tongue, with enthusiastic bobbing. There's something foolhardy and thrilling about doing this. There's something perfect about knowing that Parker doesn't want anyone but Harp.

“Oh, fuck—Harp, you’re gonna make me—”

Parker’s breath comes in short, sharp gasps, now, and with one hand in Harp’s hair, and the other braced against the handle of the door, he opens his eyes, watching Harp suck him off. The windows begin to fog up, making the shadows beyond darker and blurrier.

“Harp—oh my god, Harp—”

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