No, I said

I do not think that

It's all in your head

But we may not find out

Until we're dead...

            There are two notes, written on Kurt’s good stationary, resting on the sink counter.  They’ve prepared.  They‘ve known exactly what to say for a long time now.

            Two beautiful boys are settled into the water, facing each other and spread out so that their naked legs tangle together.  They smile at each other, comfortable.

            “I’m scared a little,” Blaine admits quietly, though the sound still cuts through the silence.

            “I know.”  Kurt reaches across the tub to lift Blaine’s chin up with his forefinger.  “But we’ll be safe now, remember?  No more hiding.  No more fear. Just you and me, safe and gone.  Just like we talked about.”

            Blaine’s lips curl into a slight smile.  He takes Kurt’s hand in both of his, tilting his head down to kiss the wet knuckles.

            “Are you ready?”

            “Can I have a kiss?” Blaine asks, a few tears slipping out of his eyes, though his smile remains.

            Kurt grins back, a few tears spilling over onto his cheeks as well, and leans across to press his hands on either side of Blaine’s face and bring their lips together.

            The kiss is tender, portraying everything they feel and think and want and need.  This is it.  This is all of it.  All of the pain and suffering and terror, the falsities and distance and cruelty; this will finally wash it all away.

            “I’m ready,” Blaine says when their lips part.  Kurt’s smile widens and he presses one last peck on Blaine’s mouth before settling back against his side of the tub.

            They each pick one up, and settle it against their skin.  It’s heavy.  The weight of it settles over them, and their eyes find each other, holding steady.

            “One,” Kurt says.  Blaine searches his eyes until he finds it.  There.  There it is.  Courage.

            “Two,” he says back, empowered by Kurt’s soft smile.

            “Three,” they breathe out together.

            Silver slices, clean and quick, into soft, pale skin.  In rapid succession, they each slash again, on the other arm.  Deep red flows and spreads in the water, mingling together in a frenzied dance.  It’s so easy to destroy; they weren’t expecting it to be this simple.  It’s reassuring.

            As they lie there, heads rested back, someone whispers into the darkness: “I love you.”  The other responds immediately, barely audible: “I love you, too.”

            Then all is still.  The last bit of light fades from their bodies.  All that remains is two beautiful boys, the red that consumes them, and two notes sitting neatly on the sink counter.