Moving Along

Brandt smiled as he added the framed photo to the collection on the mantle. Jason or John, he couldn’t remember which one, had taken the shot of Brandt and Mark at Thanksgiving. Mark looked fabulous in the photo. His beautiful, dark blue-grey eyes shone as they looked at Brandt. And his sandy blond hair—damn—Brandt loved to run his fingers through those straight thick locks. Their smiles were full of the joy they each felt in the other’s company.

Brandt looked at the other photos on the mantle, pausing at the Halloween snapshot. The gay social club he belonged to hosted an annual Halloween dance party and always took stacks of candid photos during the event. He’d found one from this year’s party that caught his first encounter with Mark.

In the photo their bodies were molded together, Mark’s hand at the small of Brandt’s back holding him close. Brandt’s face was upturned, as he kissed Mark’s neck. The look on Mark’s face was smoldering, his eyes dark.

Brandt had to smirk at the absurdity of their costume pairing in the photo. Mark was wearing a purple crushed velvet pimp costume. His wide brimmed hat was ridiculous. Brandt had wavered between self-confidence and uncertainty in his own snug sailor boy costume.

But it wasn’t the figures in the photo that captured Brandt’s attention. It was the glimmer of light that seemed to have no explanation that always drew Brandt’s eyes. The mysterious sparkle was exactly in the spot where a soft voice had come from, encouraging him to move on that night.

Brandt’s eyes traveled over the remaining photos on the mantle. Graeme shared the spotlight with Brandt in those photos. Brandt’s chest was tight as he remembered the idyllic times he’d shared with his first love.

Brandt shook his head to dissipate the sad bend his thoughts were taking. He hadn’t fallen into a depression in months and was determined to keep it that way. Although he wanted to remember the good times they’d shared forever, the dark, early months after Graeme’s untimely death were something Brandt would just as soon forget.

When he looked back at the Thanksgiving photo with Mark, his heart lifted. They’d been together less than two months, but Mark meant so much to him already. How was it possible to care so much about two men who were so very different from one another? Perhaps it was because they were the same in the ways that really mattered to Brandt. Mark was a good person. He was caring and thoughtful and treated Brandt like a prince.

Brandt felt like he was at a crossroads in his life, with decisions to be made. Did he love Mark? Did he want to build a new life with this man?