Touching

Touching was easy. That’s strange, I guess. I’ve seen how you shy away from contact, how the easy intimacy between strangers–handshakes, hugging, simple kissing on the cheek–fascinates you even as you flee it. Your mother can touch you, but even that is learned, often endured rather than desired. When others try, you hunch and flinch and back away. For me, though, it was simplicity itself. I reached, you reached, and our hands fit together strangely, perfectly. From there it was no distance at all to embraces and walking hand in hand, to your warm solid presence against my side. Continue Reading »

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Juxtaposition

When Geoffrey looks into the mirror he sees awkwardness–angles and curves juxtaposed oddly. Ears like a Grecian amphora, nose like a squashed tomato. Crooked jaw. Sidewise grin. He gets by, he does. Knows he is attractive, in an odd way, or can be–when he’s funny, when he gets to know someone. But… different.
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Drabbles: Other Pairings

Many Partings

Billy/Charlie, 200 words, hard R.

He rocks forward on the balls of his feet, fists clenched in silky straight hair; there are no sounds but hard breath and barely audible swallows, a long soft sigh as he sags back against the concrete wall. A moment later he shivers as cold air ghosts across his privates and hurriedly zips up. Charlie is still kneeling, his forehead pressed to Billy’s jeans. Billy pushes his fingers gently through his hair. “Thank you,” he murmurs, and feels the nod against his thigh. “C’mon, stand up,” he coaxes, but Charlie shakes his head.

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