A/N: Warning: Soo is looking at a piece he almost wrote (a thriller), and there is literally one sentence describing what would've been included in it, and that sentence lists a few of the archive warnings. Also, there's another paragraph while he's looking at another piece that mentions abstract death. No details about any of these things, but if you're worried at all, feel free to shoot me a message (@btsmee on tumblr or leave a comment or something - however you'd like to go about it).

 

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“Soo!”

Kyungsoo paused for a moment, then continued on flipping through the pages as if he had heard nothing. The voice still sounded like it was on the other side of the house, which meant he should still have a few minutes.

The notebook in front of him was worn and riddled with color-coded sticky note tabs and black ink—the physical manifestation of the brainstorming portion of his creative process. He both loved and hated this notebook.

“Sooooo!”

It held the beginnings of countless stories he knew he would never write, and flipping through it felt bittersweet. He stopped on a page with the word “Demons” scrawled across the top, and debated reading what he knew was pages of pain and angst. This was something he had written while still in university; those were hard years for him.

“SOO.” The voice sounded much closer this time.

Kyungsoo decided against delving into the past. Instead, he flipped forward to another page, this one covered in a web of strange squiggles that connected the seven names he had written there. The pages immediately after were the outline for a thriller he never wrote.

Death, , psychological manipulation and torture… this one still tempted him, sometimes.

“Kyungsoo!” The voice was right outside the door, and a fist was knocking impatiently.

He didn’t think he would ever return to that story, though. Tempting as it was, he wasn’t certain he had it in him to write something that dark, and even if he did, he wasn’t sure he wanted to bring out the side of himself that would relish in such a piece. Even just reading things like that left him feeling a bit off for a few weeks; he couldn’t imagine the effects of writing it himself.

The door swung open, and Chanyeol rambled in, probably frowning. Kyungsoo wouldn’t know, though—he hadn’t looked up or reacted in any way.

“Soo.”

Then again, perhaps he should write that piece. It would be good to try a new genre.

“Kyungsoo.”

He ignored the finger poking his cheek and turned the page; he was surprised at what he found behind it, as he had forgotten about the piece completely. Kyungsoo had sat by a lagoon one day and written something abstract about an unidentified female character and seven strangers who approached her. Each person had come alone and had been searching for something—love, power, sustenance, beauty, peace, companionship, knowledge—and each person she had turned away except the person searching for peace. He never finished the story, but he was relatively certain that the peace she gave them was becoming one with the land of the realm they were in. Death in an abstract way.

The day Kyungsoo wrote that had been a weird sort of day for him. He got high off his not long after writing it.

“DO KYUNGSOO.”

Kyungsoo finally looked up, but only to punch Chanyeol; it was retaliation for the shove he had just received from him. Chanyeol doubled over in pain, groaning.

“Soo, why do you do this to me?” he whined. Kyungsoo shrugged, turning back to his notebook.

“What do you want?”

Chanyeol pouted for a moment before breaking out into a grin.

“That’s probably the fasted I’ve ever gotten a response from you,” he said, smirking. Kyungsoo didn’t deem that worthy of a reply; Chanyeol wasn’t surprised. “So anyway, Xing called and asked if we wanted to get dinner. Apparently he got called into town spontaneously for work, and he’ll be free in the evening.”

Kyungsoo’s head snapped up at the mention of their old friend, and he was grinning by the time Chanyeol stopped talking.

“Of course. I’ll text him-"

“Don’t worry, I already told him we were down.” Chanyeol rolled his eyes, smiling. “I knew you’d agree to it.”

Kyungsoo nodded, humming. His mood suddenly felt much lighter, and he set his notebook aside; he’d look through it again some other time. Kyungsoo rose and stretched, then dragged Chanyeol down by the collar for a kiss. He didn’t let go and Chanyeol gave in easily, wrapping his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist and pulling him closer.

After a few moments, Chanyeol seemed to realize something, and he broke the kiss to glare down at his husband.

“Wait a minute. I was calling you for like five minutes, and you ignored me. But as soon as I mentioned Yixing, you were all ears. What the hell?”

Kyungsoo smirked and detached himself, bopping Chanyeol on the nose in the process.

“I like him more.”

“Wha- HEY!”

 

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A/N: 

Each piece mentioned in this is something I've actually written. This notebook actually exists. (This drabble actually got written into it). However, I am neither married to Chanyeol nor friends with Yixing (a tragedy, I know).

:DDD