Extra Touchy Frisky 9


 

Title: Extra Touchy Frisky 9

 

Published: October, 2000

 

Page Count: 78

 

Format: Digest  (2 center staples binding)

 

Cover/Art: B/W Cover by Larrkin. Interior b/w screen grabs and publicity shots.

 

Available From: Almost Foolproof Press  or  Agent With Style


Price: Agent With Style - $11.00 (US) * $15.00 (Can/Mex) * $16.00 (overseas)

            Almost Foolproof Press -  $5.00 (US/Can.) * $6.00 (Europe) * $7.00 (Pac.) Does Not Include Postage

 

Contents/Description:


Midnight Oil by Resonant (sequel to "Anoint" in ETF 8)
...as soon as Blair began to sink back into thinking it was an evening like any other, there would be a hand on his ass or a mouth on the back of his neck and once again he'd get to relive the blinding flash of joy he felt when he realized: Jim wants me! It's me he wants! And then there'd be another long, luxuriant kissing session, and if the pasta was gummy and overcooked and the sauce was a little on the scorched side, well, neither of them objected to the trade-off.

Keep Dreaming series by Dean Warner
"But it doesn't mean anything, Jim," Blair repeated coldly. "Touching someone because you want to touch - you want to be held by - someone. Doesn't matter who, doesn't matter for how long...." His voice dropped in sadness. "Just... someone."
Jim stood quietly beside the couch, watching his young friend as Blair stared out at the winter sky. He didn't know what to do - he knew what he wanted to do, but if he did it now, he was afraid Blair might think he was comforting him out of habit, that he thought Blair was just....
Someone.

Cold Sweat by Dawn M Pares
I know Jim pretty well, and if I'm right, and not to be immodest, but I usually am, Jim thinks of it like this: "It would be Wrong to watch Blair sleep; it's invasive of his privacy - therefore I have to make sure he's awake when I decide to look in on him for No Discernable Reason at three fucking thirty in the god-damned morning!" Well, emphasis, and obscenities, mine, but you get the gist.

Dork by Francesca and Miriam
"You cut your hair," Jim said again. God, he could hardly believe it. Sandburg - god, he wouldn't have recognized him. Hell, he hadn't recognized him. Short, Sandburg's hair was curlier still, and darker, and it made his glasses seem bigger and -
Wait. The glasses were bigger. The frames were thicker, darker, and -
-and what the fuck was he wearing? A navy blue button-down shirt, neatly tucked into dark blue jeans. Jim stared; Sandburg had a silver pen tucked into his shirt pocket.
Jesus H. Christ. Sandburg looked like his fucking accountant.

The Journey Home by boyd
After all, he'd spent most of his adult life alone, his brief marriage to Carolyn and partnership with Blair not withstanding. Having Blair waiting nearby to comfort him didn't negate any of the things he'd achieved on his own, right?

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Midnight Oil by Resonant

Keep Dreaming Series (Just Someone  Phantom Limbs  This Long of a Winter  Rusted Pipe) by Dean Warner

Cold Sweat by Dawn M. Pares

Dork by Francesca and Miriam

The Journey Home by boyd


Observations of a Slash Slut:

 

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