Blaine is wandering through the Brooklyn Superhero Supply Co. on Fifth when they meet again. Except for the small tattoo (a ladder) behind his right ear, Sebastian is the same, or seems to be. Blaine never knew him well enough to know if he's different now, but he appears to be unchanged. Or maybe he's overlaying memory with reality. He does that sometimes.

“I was hoping I’d run into you someday,” Sebastian says, straightening out to make himself even taller.

“How long have you been in the city?” Blaine asks.

“Six years.”

“That’s a long time to hope,” Blaine says.

“Indeed it is.”

Blaine buys a pair of Invisibility Detection Goggles for Gwen, and waits while Sebastian pays for his Cosmic Thruster.

“Present?” Blaine asks.

“My nephew. You?”

“Birthday gift for a friend of ours. She really does have everything, so…”

Sebastian falls back on the tried and true, giving Blaine a wicked smirk and then crowding into his space. “You’re still nervous as hell around me.”

“Not really. I’m just torn between asking you to join me for a coffee, or not. I really only have about 20 minutes to catch up,” Blaine replies.

“So we’ll make plans when you have more time,” Sebastian offers.

“No. We won’t,” Blaine says, pushing open the front door. “Coffee, I think. Let’s walk up to Gorilla. Do you know it?”

“I don’t, no. I live in Gramercy, two blocks off the park,” Sebastian explains.

“Nice.”

Blaine crosses to the East side of the street, Sebastian trailing behind him. When he passes a corner bodega, green plastic buckets overflowing with new hydrangeas in pink and white, he smiles, thinking of Kurt. Always Kurt. Right about now he’s probably arranging the hydrangeas he bought early this morning, or setting up the bar, or hanging the homemade, punched tin “Happy Birthday” garland he made last summer. Right now he’s probably being wonderful.

“What possessed you to move to Brooklyn? I thought you were in Chelsea,” Sebastian says, dodging a yoga-mom pushing an $800 stroller.

“We bought a brownstone, not far from here. It’s perfect.”

“God bless the trust fund, right?”

“Haven’t touched it, actually. We’re both doing well. Better than we expected to be at 28,” Blaine says. He doesn’t want to reveal too much, doesn’t want to let Sebastian in to this life, not like before. His need to have someone fight over him, for him, is buried somewhere in Ohio and without it Sebastian is just an annoying old friend who needs to be put in his place.

They pass Caf� Moutarde and Blaine waves at Beatrice, the bartender, who looks at Sebastian and waves back, eyebrows raised to the sky in question. It’s their Sunday brunch place. They always arrive an hour early, drink Bloody Mary’s and flirt like their husbands are away on business, until eight or ten of their closest friends arrive for two hours of food, and gossip, and mutual appreciation. At some point in the meal, without fail, Kurt will lean in, put his hand on Blaine’s thigh and say, “This is the best life.” And it is.

“What are we going to do about what’s left of your 20s, Blaine?” Sebastian asks, breaking into his thoughts.

“I don’t follow…”

“You’re wasting precious time, shacking up with Kurt, when you could be out there making good use of your fine looks and the benefits of youth,” Sebastian says.

“We’re married.”

“Since when?”

“Last April,” Blaine replies.

“Like, legally?”

“Of course.”

Sebastian is quiet until they reach Gorilla Coffee, and even then only opens his mouth to order an Americano. Blaine orders their usual, and picks up a bag of beans. When he steps outside, Sebastian is leaning against the wall. Now is his chance.

“I should have done this years ago, should have done it the very first time you eyefucked me and then made a snide comment about Kurt’s appearance,” Blaine starts.

“Stop trying, Sebastian. I’m not that guy. You won’t catch me at a weak moment. I’m not bored. And Kurt is most definitely not a girl. I shouldn’t have let you call me, or text me, or hit on me in front of Kurt, but I was too needy at the time to realize that. So if we meet again, please remember: I’m not that guy.”

“You’ve been waiting a long time to tell me that,” Sebastian says, again with the smirk.

“I have. I feel better.”

“Good for you.”

“Come on, you’re not pining, not really. I’m just here, like I was there, then. That’s all.”

“And you’re gorgeous.”

“Stop,” Blaine says, no hint of a blush. “I should get back. We have friends arriving in less than hour,” Blaine says.

“Wait, just… don’t you want to know what it’s like to…”

“Sebastian…”

“Hear me out. I’m just curious. Honest.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t you want to know what it’s like to have sex with another man, or many men? You’ll never know what it’s like to fuck around, to cheat, to live dangerously, to take what you want.”

Blaine steps closer to Sebastian and smiles, big and genuine, like he knows something, something important.

He does.

“Here’s the thing – if I cheat on Kurt, or leave him for someone else, or to find someone else, I’ll never know what it’s like to remain faithful to one man for the rest of my life. I’ll never know what it’s like to nurture a deep, abiding love. I’ll never know what it’s like to grow with someone, rather than apart,” Blaine says. “Everyone has to give up one life for another. I'd just rather know this one. So you do you, and I’ll do me. And the next time we meet, shake my husband’s hand, and we’ll be friends.”

Blaine smiles at Sebastian, turns and walks back down Fifth Avenue toward home, birthday gift on his arm, and a coffee in each hand. Kurt could probably use a pick-me-up.