Page 66 of Untouchable

Parker realizesHarp suddenly sounds very far away, and he scans his body.

And that’s when he discovers he feels awesome—soft and relaxed and at ease. He grins up at Harp and nods.

“Yeah, I think so,” he says. “It’s just like.... kinda floaty? And warm? And like, everything’s just... nice.”

"Yup, that'd be it. Let me get you some water—you're probably gonna have wicked dry mouth."

The effects of the ice cream only seem to amplify as Parker starts to pay attention. He’s acutely aware of his body in the best way—everything seems so much more enjoyable than usual. He finds himself giggling quietly to himself while Harp’s in the kitchen.

By the time Harp returns from the kitchen with big glasses of water for them both, Parker is no longer even trying to pay attention to the movie, and instead he rakes his borrowed sweatpants up over the knee and pets his shins, smiling to himself.

"Pretty tactile and nice, right?" Harp asks, raising an eyebrow. He sets the glasses down and sits tentatively on the edge of the couch, movie forgotten.

“It’s so nice,” Parker says. He kicks out his foot, extending his leg towards Harp. “When I get drunk I feel kinda numb usually, but this is like, the opposite of that.”

Harp frowns deeply and slaps Parker's foot away.

"Don't fuck around with me and feet."

“Oh,” Parker says, flinching. His heart drops. He tucks his feet back underneath himself, hiding them with the blanket, as his cheeks turn red. “Sorry.”

* * *

"Yeah it,uh, started when I was a kid. My dad was hit by a crumbling statue when I was eleven… Took a solid marble foot right to the dome. The man was never the same afterwards."

"Oh, wow, Harp, I'm really sorry—"

"It was terrible. I've been scarred for life. I should've told you, but..."

Parker looks at him with such genuine sorrow that Harp can't take it anymore. He can't keep a straight face and he explodes into laughter, leaning forward a little bit to catch Parker under the arm, really delivering the threat of tickling him more than actually making an attempt.

“Oh—” Parker says, not reacting to the touch. “You’re—you’re joking?”

Oh wow. Harp freezes with both hands jammed under Parker's arm. He slowly withdraws them.

That crashed and burned so badly. Christ.

"Sorry, I do that to my brother constantly," Harp says, realizing that it probably doesn't make it any funnier for Parker. "Gil thinks it's a fucking riot but." Harp folds in on himself.

* * *

And then it clicks,and Parker starts giggling, maybe a little harder than the joke merited.

He collects himself for a moment, and then frowns.

“So I shouldn’t do… this then,” he says, rolling onto his back, shoving both his feet against Harp’s chest.

Harp smiles and catches Parker by the ankle and snatches the sock off one foot, sliding down the couch to get out from under the other foot. Parker lets out the most embarrassing shriek as Harp begins tickling him. He writhes on the couch, trying to yank his foot loose from Harp’s strong, calloused hand and begging for mercy.

When Harp shows mercy, collapsing backwards on the couch and splaying a little, he lets out a full belly laugh that echoes in the normally-quiet house. Parker sighs happily, his body singing from the contact with Harp, as though all the places they’d touched, skin to skin, are on fire.

They hear the sound of a plump little body landing on the floor and Bo starts barking. He appears in the doorway a few seconds later, scurrying over the wood floor.

“Come here, my little man,” Parker cries out dramatically as Bo trots over, and he scoops Bo off the ground, nearly falling off the couch in the process. He holds Bo to his chest tightly.

“He’s here to protect me,” he says, trying to glare at Harp but dissolving into laughter again, because everything is suddenly delightfully entertaining.

"Disgusting," Harp breathes out, sneering. "A traitor. A turncoat. I thought we had something, Bo." Harp is trying hard to frown, but he can’t hold back his broad smile.

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