Page 92 of Untouchable

He is exactly as perfect and searing-hot as Harp was afraid to imagine. Without breaking, Harp groans at the warmth of their mouths, of the lengths of their bodies pressed together. He feels too big, too heavy, and yet Parker continues to pull him down.

This is impossible. Parker cannot want him. It makes no sense. It's perverse and backwards for someone as good as Parker to want to kiss Harp—and yet here is the proof as Parker drags his lips across Harp's, letting the sensitive skin slip together before he catches Harp's bottom lip gently between his teeth.

"Jesus, Parker," Harp says, breaking, nearly panting. Parker doesn't let him get a breath before he's kissing up again insistently.

* * *

Parker feels drunk,almost manic—kissing Harp, not letting him pull away, is a need so deep, a drive so strong, it feels like a primal instinct, and all he wants is Harp’s weight on top of him, pinning him to the couch, Harp’s tongue pushing into his mouth, Harp’s hands roving over his body. He can’t help letting out a high, needy whine.

Harp steadies himself with one arm and rakes another under the hem of Parker's shirt. Parker arches up against his touch, desperate for more already, for Harp’s hands warm against the skin of his torso.

Harp breaks their kiss, breathing hard.

"Stop, stop, stop," he whispers gently. "This is..."

Parker is only deterred for a moment and kisses up the side of Harp's face.

Harp leans on him, pressing him down and then nuzzling Parker's face over to expose his ear. He kisses the corner of Parker's jaw and then the shell of his ear.

"We have to stop," he whispers again.

The words are like cold water, and Parker’s body goes limp—well, every part of his body besides his cock. He’s already utterly fucked out, and he can’t quite figure out what’s going on—Harp is breaking the kiss, is telling them to stop, but Harp’s hand is coming up to cup his face, is stroking over his cheekbone.

“Wha—what’s wrong—” Parker gasps, and he sounds like a drowning swimmer coughing up seawater. “Why’d you stop? Do you not want—”

"Because," Harp says, rolling his hips and closing his eyes, "I want to dive right in and fix every wrong that's ever been done to you, using primarily my tongue. But I think we should maybe stop to think about this because the longer we kiss, the more I suspect that maybe this isn't a dream."

Parker’s mind, as always, is still playing catch up, and he takes a deep, shaky breath.

“So—so you do want to do… this,” he says, gesturing vaguely down at their bodies.

"Obviously," Harp says, scoffing. "Is that—was that even a question? You're perfect, Parker. But I'm... me and I'd have never thought.... you...."

Parker actually bursts out laughing at this.

“Excuse me?” he says. “I’ve had a crush on you from, like, the session when you made me that brisket. God, when you came in for your chiro appointment, Mindy gave me so much shit—I mean, you’re exactly my type.”

At this, he attempts to pull Harp in for another kiss, hoping he can distract him from whatever overthinking his mind is currently engaged in.

"You're kidding me," Harp says, pulling back. "Whatever it is I am, it's not anybody's type."

“Okay, not to be rude, but… you can tell I have a huge boner right now, right?” Parker says with a grin.

Parker shifts and their hips grind together. This has always been Parker’s problem—once even the slightest hint of an erection, his judgement goes right out the window. He’s completely forgotten why this might be a bad idea, and his mind is clamoring for Harp in any way he can get him.

* * *

Harp hasto close his eyes for a second because the arousal that surges through him is so intense he gets tunnel vision.

"Oh is that what that—" Harp begins to kid. Parker arches up again and Harp can't even finish. "I can't even fucking joke right now. Yeah, I feel you... loud and clear. Jesus."

Harp has to control his breathing.

“So why are we stopping?” Parker asks breathlessly. He tries to sneak his hand between them, but Harp catches his wrist gently.

"Because I already care about you so much, I'll never forgive myself if we do something you regret tomorrow."

Harp hadn't even let himself want Parker until the first time Parker kissed him a moment before—and now that he’s allowing himself to want, the feeling unfurls inside of him and seems to touch every part. What if he is allowed to have this? What if Parker isn’t off limits?

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