It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon in May. Two boys walked through the park together, one with thick, dark hair and one with skin as pale and perfect as porcelain. Their faces were turned down, but, every few moments, one of them would glance nervously at the other, cheeks burning.

Finally, after a solid ten minutes of nervous silence, the dark-haired boy reached out and tentatively took hold of the pale boy’s thin hand. Almost immediately, they both relaxed. The deed had been done. They were holding hands.

They swung their joined arms back and forth and smiled at each other. Their hands fit well together. This was nice. There was a moment of silence, then they dark-haired boy cleared his throat and said, “Um, so, er…what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Um, well, it’s kind of…um,” said the porcelain boy, smoothing his hair with his free hand and blushing. He couldn’t seem to get it out. He had practiced this, but his speech seemed to have been wiped from his memory. He wanted to tell the other boy how his smile made his heart grow warm, how his every touch felt like melting. He wanted to tell him how, ever since he had first heard him sing, he couldn’t stop thinking about him. But he couldn’t find the words.

“What is it? You know you can tell me anything,” the dark-haired boy urged, squeezing his companion’s hand supportively.

“Uh…” he felt his breath growing short. He knew his face must be red as a tomato by now. Oh god, this was a mistake. This was awful.

“He’s trying to tell you that he’s in love with you!” yelped a voice from behind the two boys. They whipped around to see two old men sitting on a picnic blanket together, watching the scene play out.

“Blaine, don’t! You’ve just completely ruined the romance of the moment!” chided the thinner of the two men, slapping his partner’s wrist. He turned to the two boys and smiled apologetically, “I apologize for my husband’s lack of tact. He can be dapper when he wants to be, but he’s honestly just a child in a 76-year-old’s body.”

“Oh, how you flatter me, Kurt,” laughed the shorter, paunchier man. He pressed a kiss to his spouse’s cheek, which was free of wrinkles despite the age indicated by his pure white hair and slightly withered voice. Blaine grinned at the boys and said, “Although I am sorry to have ruined the moment. I’d tell you to continue, but I’m afraid I’ve spoiled it completely. Timing is everything, you know.”

The boys blinked. They were unsure of how to react to the smirking couple so readily watching their teenage drama play out. Finally, the dark-haired boy stepped forward and held out his hand. He said, “I’m Isaac and this is my, uh,” he glanced back at his companion for a moment, “friend, Bennett. And you are?”

“I’m Kurt and this is Blaine,” the two men stood up and clasped Isaac’s hand with a smile.

“And you guys are married?” the boy inquired, pushing his long, dark bangs away from his eyes.

“Yup,” said Blaine, gesturing to the boys to sit down with them, “and we have been for nearly fifty years now.”

“Wow! That’s amazing,” said Isaac, urging Bennett to come sit next to him on the picnic blanket. He clasped his hand and pulled lightly. The previously motionless Bennett immediately drifted towards the ground and crossed his legs, but did not speak.

“Yes, it’s a wonder I haven’t tired of him yet,” Kurt said with a wink.

“How did you meet?”

“We were sixteen years old. My school’s Glee club was competing against his in a regional contest. I was sent to spy on the competition. He sang me a Katy Perry song in the Senior Commons,” Kurt smiled fondly and squeezed Blaine’s hand.

“I’m in my school’s Glee club, too,” Isaac smiled at the enthusiasm that appeared on the faces of the two old men, “but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Katy Perry.”

“Yes, well, she wasn’t exactly the romantic poet of the age,” Blaine laughed.

“Isaac sang to me the first time we met,” squeaked Bennett. He immediately blushed fiercely and looked down at this lap.

“Music is the gateway to the soul!” said Blaine in a singsong voice.

“That’s eyes, you ridiculous elf of a person,” said Kurt, shaking his head.

“Oh, you don’t have to be so picky.”

“Wow…fifty years. How do you find one person to love for fifty years?” said Isaac dreamily, resting his chin on his hand.

The two men glanced at each other and clasped hands. Blaine started, “You look for someone to whom you wish you could never stop talking. Someone who puts light in your eyes and warmth in your heart.”

“Someone who can make you skin tingle with their every touch. Someone who you would be willing to do everything for, but who is willing to give you just as much in return,” continued Kurt.

“A person that finds your faults and loves you more for them, who you could do anything with – go to a party, laze about and watch a movie, bake cookies, whatever – and still enjoy yourself just because you’re with that person.”

“Someone who will listen to you when you need them, but for whom you are also willing to be a shoulder to cry on. Someone who makes you think, ‘Oh! There you are…”

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” they finished together, tipped their faces towards each other so that their foreheads pressed together and the tips of their noses brushed.

The two boys looked on as the couple leaned in for a tender kiss. Though their hair had greyed and their voices had faded, one could tell from a mile away that their love was as pure and firm as the day those lips first met, more than half a century ago.

Isaac reached out again to grab Bennett’s hand. The quiet boy looked up, surprised to find his thin little hand wrapped in that of his companion. Isaac’s lips turned up in a small smile as he stared at the boy opposite him.

They were snapped out of their reverie by Kurt. “I think it’s time for us to get home, now, boys,” he said, adjusting his bow tie. He stood and helped his husband to do the same.

The teenagers rose and helped Kurt to fold the blanket. “It was really great to meet you,” said Isaac.

“Yeah, it really was,” said Bennett with a small smile. He glanced down at his hand, still linked with Isaac’s.

The old couple exchanged a fleeting glance. Kurt said, “Hey kid, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Uh, sure,” said Bennett, reluctantly pulling his hand free. Isaac gave an encouraging nod, as if to communicate that it was okay for him to go. The two men pulled the teenager a little ways away and whispered something in his ear. Bennett nodded.

The two men waved, smiled and turned to walk down the path together, away from the boys.

“What was that all about?” asked Isaac, tilting his head.

“Isaac,” Bennett said, linking both of his hands with the other boy’s, “you’re my teenage dream.”

And he leaned in and softly pressed their lips together.