Kurt's lips on Blaine's neck…Blaine's fingers stroking up the length of Kurt's spine…making love to one another is as magical now as it was the very first time, nearly twenty years ago, when they were both bright-eyed, innocent teenagers in love, when they thought of each other as soul mates and it never ever occurred to them that they wouldn't end up together, come what may.

There were struggles and trials, but even when they had done and said everything they could to hurt one another, even when their problems seemed utterly unrepairable, somewhere deep inside they both had faith that they would get through the difficult times and come out all the stronger, all the more secure in their relationship.

Blaine was determined that they would have a happy ending.

As it turned out, they didn't.

They tried everything – counseling, couple's retreats, lengthy vacations. (It's a wonder what running 3,000 miles away from civilization with the man you love can do.) They made fabulous headway during all these things, but no matter what they did, no matter what they changed, it didn't stick. Their problems were always waiting for them when they returned home, ready to greet them the moment they walked through the front door.

It wasn't that they didn't love each other. If love was all they needed to make a relationship work, they would have gotten married and lived the life of their dreams. But love wasn't enough. Inevitably, goals and careers and desires for the future didn't mesh, and the two separate entities that are Kurt and Blaine tore apart.

But even after the frost of a broken engagement had settled over their hearts, there was still something there – something green and alive hiding beneath the ice, something between them that refused to be denied. It wasn't enough to build a relationship on, but it was too important, too strong to ignore.

They found themselves stealing away when they were in the same town together, trying to renew their love affair, just to succumb to the same old failures over and over again. Eventually they found other people to love and to pledge their lives to, and they moved on in different directions.

Every so often, they pine for what was, but they aren't miserable in their new roles.

Kurt designs his own fashion line and Blaine is the director of the Warblers at Dalton.

And they are by no means strangers.

Kurt attends a few Warbler performances several times a year, and Blaine flies out for Fashion Week to see Kurt's new lines.

Kurt's two daughters call Blaine uncle, and Blaine's son does the same for Kurt.

But once a year, they escape their husbands, their children, and their lives, to spend a weekend alone together - to erase twelve months of pent up frustration and longing from their systems.

Kurt's husband thinks he's consulting with his design team over plans for a new line.

Blaine's husband thinks he's attending a conference for high school choral directors.

It is the most glorious, most heartbreaking weekend imaginable.

They run away to the same remote seaside town every year – the kind that caters to such an influx of tourists that no one remembers who actually lives there year round or not. When they meet at the train station, they hug platonically, like old friends. They stop at a nearby bar and start the weekend with drinks, shy smiles, and unnecessary catching up (unnecessary since they follow each other on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, and text several times a month). They stay at the same hotel, most of the times booking the same room. One year Blaine will foot the bill, the next year Kurt.

The moment they step inside their suite, it's like high school all over again. They spend most of their time in bed, worshipping one another, taking breaks to eat only when they're so completely spent they have no energy left for anything else. Their weekend together is a time for dirty, no-holds barred sex as well as intimate love making, punctuated by joking and laughing and reminiscing about the past. It's the only time they allow themselves to indulge in what ifs and I wish.

What if we could have made it work?

I wish we would have tried (insert trendy, new, and previously unheard of technique here).

What if we had raised kids together?

I wish I could go back and change (blank).

Kurt will always be perfect to Blaine, and Blaine will always be Kurt's teenage dream.

Forty-eight hours passes in seconds when the rest of the world disappears.

After passion is spent and the heat between them starts to cool, they retreat to different sides of the room to dress and pack, with backs turned and eyes trained away, further tamping out the burning embers of their weekend together with talk of family and kids and lives that don't concern one another.

“So, Michael's going to be six in a few months?” Kurt asks about Blaine's son as he buttons his shirt. “How come he looks so much older in that picture you posted?”

“Must be the stress of kindergarten,” Blaine jokes with a stiff laugh, sitting on the far end of the bed to tie his shoes. “Your Gloria is turning into quite the young lady. And Elizabeth - how did she do in that gymnastics competition last weekend?”

“Oh my goodness! I forgot to post an update,” Kurt says, immediately grabbing his iPhone from the dresser and pulling up the Facebook app to upload some pictures from the event. “They won second place.”

“Second place?” Blaine asks, zippering his suitcase. “That's wonderful!”

“Yeah, well, they deserved first. It was that East German judge…the bastard…”

It's bittersweet when they depart their room to return to their separate realities. In some ways, when they close the door and turn in their keys, they leave the best parts of themselves behind.

When they arrive at the train station to bid one another farewell, it's back to friendly hugs and shy smiles.

“So, I'll be seeing you,” Kurt says, tucking Blaine's scarf into his peacoat, adjusting his collar, and kissing him on the forehead.

“Yeah,” Blaine says, and regardless of when the next time they will actually see one another is, he always ends with, “same time next year.”