Page 329 of Untouchable

He narrows his eyes suspiciously.

“Are you trying to trick me into thinking I hooked up with Gil last night?” He says, his eyes glinting. “Because, if so, nice try. There’s not enough alcohol in the world to convince me to sleep with Gil—“

“Hey,” Gil says grumpily, suddenly awake. “Fuck you.”

“I mean, no offense, Gil.”

“Offense definitelytaken.”

“What I was going to say,” Parker drawls, turning back to Harp, “was that there’s not enough alcohol in the world to convince me to sleep with Gil when I could be feeling youup.”

“Gross,” Gil whines. He throws the covers back over his head, his voice instantly muffled. “Wake me up when I’m no longer praying for the sweet release of death.”

"So I guess that means you don't want breakfast?" Harp asks, folding the paper and standing up.

"I didn't say that," Gil says, still muffled. He peeks with one eye, peering at Harp. "What's for breakfast?"

"I got half a dozen bagels and cream cheese from the bakery down the street."

Gil covers his head again. "I'm not really doing carbs right now."

"Bullshit you're not! You almost ate your weight in onion rings last night," Harp points out.

"Please don't remind me."

Parker lays back down, covering his face in the crook of his arm and moaning. He’s starving and nauseated all at once, and his head is throbbing. Though the overhead light is off, the room feels aggressively bright, like the sun is trying to punch him right in the retina. But he can’t resist smiling a little at the brothers’ banter.

“What would it take to convince you to bring me a bagel in bed? I think both my legs are broken,” Parker whines.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Harp says, “but I’ll bring you something anyway. Coffee?”

“Oh my god, you’re a saint,” Parker says. “I love you.”

“Have I mentioned lately how gross the two of you are?” Gil says from under the blanket.

“Yes, pretty much constantly since last night after your third beer,” Harp calls from the kitchenette.

“Good,” Gil grumbles. “Someone’s got to.”

The two of them lay there for a moment, sharing the swell of nausea that accompanies the morning after a night of alcohol-induced bonding. From the corner of his eye, Parker sees Gil edge down the sheet again.

"Hey, thanks for being cool about everything," Gil says, refusing to reveal more than half of his face.

"What do you—"

"I was an asshole to you. On purpose. But I regret it, and I'm glad you came to Portland with Harp.”

Parker blinks. Of all the things he thought Gil might say, this was the last thing he would have predicted.

“I—I—uh—”

He stops and smiles.

“Thanks,” he says finally. “I’m glad I’m here, too. I mean… not glad I’m here right now with this horrific hangover, but… I’m glad I’m here in Portland. It’s a great town, and it suits you and… last night was really fun.”

Gil mumbles something.

Parker pauses and then rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He frowns down at Gil.

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