Ship/Member: seokmin/mingyu Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: idolverse, character study, ambiguous relationships, reluctant coworkers w an antagonistic relationship but what if it’s because u are Too Similar but also Too Stubborn to admit it, i’ll go down fighting for these guys (& then they will fight each other <3) Permission to remix: yes ofc!! wc: 1300
yeah i have no real good explanation for this i just open 17hols every night before i go to bed and voila i get possessed
***
#self recognition through the other (derogatory)
/
there is something wrong with you
there is something wrong with you that is also wrong with me
(from mirror traps by hera lindsay bird)
“I just — I don’t want to room with Seokmin,” Mingyu’s voice cuts in tiredly, and something about his tone rubs Seokmin entirely the wrong way.
Mingyu’s tired. Seokmin’s tired. They’re all tired. It’s been stop after stop after stop, performing concert after concert, song after song. There are no breaks in between. Sickness lurks beneath the surface, ready to step in at a moment’s notice. Exhaustion wears them thin as their numbers begin to dwindle. Not by choice, of course. The body always knows. It will be the first thing that breaks.
First, Seungcheol. Then, Jeonghan. For a moment it is terrifying. Like staring down the gaping mouth of a deep well, wondering how far it’d be until your body hit the ground. It’s completely unknown territory. But they move forward because they cannot look back.
Before the start of the new year, Jeonghan comes back, just in time for the North American portion of the tour, and everything stabilizes just a little bit. If not Seungcheol, then Jeonghan will know what to do.
But then — Minghao. Jun. Seokmin feels so dizzy and sick at their LA stop that he nearly passes out before they’re due at the stage markers, but he refuses to pull out. No one questions him about it, mouths pulled tight and grim. They’re bowing under the weight. They have been, for a very long time.
It’s been an awesome year.
It’s been an awful year.
“Fine,” Seokmin rests his head on the arm of the sofa, closing his eyes and willing the annoyance to go away. His head fucking hurts too much to deal with Kim Mingyu right now. Kindness is not a virtue he can extend at the moment. Nor does he particularly want to.
“I didn’t want to room with you anyways,” Seokmin grumbles, petulant.
Jeonghan, who is always listening, makes a sympathetic sound. He cards a gentle hand through Seokmin’s hair and hums, louder so that everyone else can hear, “I’ll room with Seokminnie. He’s used to my horrible sleeping habits anyways.”
“Thanks,” Seokmin murmurs into the stitching. He talks to himself in his head, gives himself an impromptu pep talk. They’re tired. It’s been a long day. He just needs some rest.
It’s not enough to stop him from knocking Mingyu’s suitcase over on his way up to his and Jeonghan’s hotel room, though.
💥
“It’s not like that,” Seokmin barely refrains from rolling his eyes as Mingyu shuffles into the room. “I was just joking around.”
“You complimented everyone but me,” Mingyu whines, heaving a sigh so that his massive chest — which he never lets anyone forget, always finding some vapid excuse to stretch out his biceps behind him in order to show it off — heaves up and down. “I looked so dumb!”
“Congratulations,” Seokmin says drily, collecting his things. “You are just like everyone else, Kim Mingyu.” Besides, Seokmin thinks as he bites his tongue. No one ever sees you as dumb. They reserve that title for me.
Mingyu falls silent behind him. And because Seokmin doesn’t do too well with a quiet room, he whirls around to find Mingyu staring right back at him.
“You meant it, didn’t you,” Mingyu says quietly. “Is there really nothing you like about me?”
Guilt shuffles back up into Seokmin’s throat. Shame pools there too, in the pit of his stomach, coupled with an annoyance that always seems to be around whenever Mingyu’s involved. Tricky emotions to untangle, those two.
What did he want Seokmin to say? What did he want Seokmin to do?
There’s a reason why Seokmin abhors that damned nickname. Second Kindest After God. He wants to laugh at the absurdity. Who can be that nice all the time? Couldn’t Seokmin be mean, if he wanted to? He was allowed to be human, wasn’t he? To be sharp and unforgiving and a little undeserving of forgiveness?
“It was just a joke,” Seokmin tells Mingyu. “Honest. That’s all it was.”
💥
“What is it about Mingyu that makes him so easy to love?” Seokmin blurts out one day. He and Minghao are piled up on top of each other, browsing through fanmade Youtube videos. Mingyu’s clips always garner so many views, trending because of some random habit or a particularly compelling look.
Seokmin would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous.
What was it like to have that many people’s eyes on you?
Minghao stares at him. Half out of disbelief, half in awe.
“What,” Seokmin says defensively.
“You really don’t know?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t,” Seokmin points out, feeling extra bright and sore from the sudden embarrassment. “You know what, never mind, don’t answer that, it was a silly question—“
“He asked me the same thing about you,” is all Minghao has to offer. He doesn’t say anything more after the fact, even when Seokmin pesters him for more information.
“If you’re so curious, talk to Mingyu about it.” Minghao grumbles fondly, pushing Seokmin’s face away.
Seokmin scoffs. No thanks. As if Seokmin would give Mingyu the satisfaction of knowing that he had the intellectual upper hand on him. It’d only serve to inflate his ego even more, and Seokmin couldn’t be held responsible for what he’d do to Mingyu if that happened.
💥
“Look at this new knife set I got!” Mingyu bursts into their dorm with a fierce shout, brandishing a shiny and new box. It startles Seokmin into knocking over the ingredients for the pizza he’d been in the process of making with Hansol.
Seokmin groans, throwing his arms up the air. “Mingyu-yah! Look what you did!”
It’s like someone let all the air out of a balloon. Mingyu deflates, tail between his legs. “Aish, sorry. I just wanted to share it with you.”
He walks back out as quickly as he’d come in, a tour de force, scurrying back out in shame. Little trails of flour follow him out. Seokmin sighs. He’s going to have to clean that up later.
“You know,” Hansol shrugs, slowly picking up the pepperoni pieces from the floor, “you could be nicer to him.”
Seokmin lets out a mournful sound at the sight of his precious dough on the floor. He wonders if it can be salvaged. “Why would I? He’s the one who came in here and knocked everything sideways.”
Hansol sets his large eyes on Seokmin’s, wide and unblinking. “He’s trying his best.”
Seokmin scowls. So is he. Sometimes Seokmin lets Mingyu talk to him for hours on end. When it’s late at night and everyone is already asleep, Mingyu gets softer with his words, soft enough that he explains everything to Seokmin without making him feel stupid, without trying too hard to sound like he already knows everything. There isn’t any competition between them. They can just be. This is Seokmin’s favorite Mingyu, the one that comes out when no cameras are watching.
Is anyone going to acknowledge that too?
💥
Maybe the problem is this: when Seokmin sees Mingyu, there is this sense of understanding. A mirror with a distorted reflection, blurred around the edges but clear enough that a general shape is left behind. The essence is understood.
Deep down — deep, deep, deep down, there exists some sort of recognition.
They say hatred comes from a place inside yourself. A dark place, a bad place that lists down all your faults and teaches you to recognize them in other people. We love to hate, and we hate to love. The two are so much closer than you really think.
Seokmin sees Mingyu, and thinks, I see a lot of me when I look at you. I hate it.
Is that what I look like, to other people? Is that what that looks like on me? Am I just as pathetic?
[FILL] i (dis)like you
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: idolverse, character study, ambiguous relationships, reluctant coworkers w an antagonistic relationship but what if it’s because u are Too Similar but also Too Stubborn to admit it, i’ll go down fighting for these guys (& then they will fight each other <3)
Permission to remix: yes ofc!!
wc: 1300
yeah i have no real good explanation for this i just open 17hols every night before i go to bed and voila i get possessed
***
“I just — I don’t want to room with Seokmin,” Mingyu’s voice cuts in tiredly, and something about his tone rubs Seokmin entirely the wrong way.
Mingyu’s tired. Seokmin’s tired. They’re all tired. It’s been stop after stop after stop, performing concert after concert, song after song. There are no breaks in between. Sickness lurks beneath the surface, ready to step in at a moment’s notice. Exhaustion wears them thin as their numbers begin to dwindle. Not by choice, of course. The body always knows. It will be the first thing that breaks.
First, Seungcheol. Then, Jeonghan. For a moment it is terrifying. Like staring down the gaping mouth of a deep well, wondering how far it’d be until your body hit the ground. It’s completely unknown territory. But they move forward because they cannot look back.
Before the start of the new year, Jeonghan comes back, just in time for the North American portion of the tour, and everything stabilizes just a little bit. If not Seungcheol, then Jeonghan will know what to do.
But then — Minghao. Jun. Seokmin feels so dizzy and sick at their LA stop that he nearly passes out before they’re due at the stage markers, but he refuses to pull out. No one questions him about it, mouths pulled tight and grim. They’re bowing under the weight. They have been, for a very long time.
It’s been an awesome year.
It’s been an awful year.
“Fine,” Seokmin rests his head on the arm of the sofa, closing his eyes and willing the annoyance to go away. His head fucking hurts too much to deal with Kim Mingyu right now. Kindness is not a virtue he can extend at the moment. Nor does he particularly want to.
“I didn’t want to room with you anyways,” Seokmin grumbles, petulant.
Jeonghan, who is always listening, makes a sympathetic sound. He cards a gentle hand through Seokmin’s hair and hums, louder so that everyone else can hear, “I’ll room with Seokminnie. He’s used to my horrible sleeping habits anyways.”
“Thanks,” Seokmin murmurs into the stitching. He talks to himself in his head, gives himself an impromptu pep talk. They’re tired. It’s been a long day. He just needs some rest.
It’s not enough to stop him from knocking Mingyu’s suitcase over on his way up to his and Jeonghan’s hotel room, though.
💥
“It’s not like that,” Seokmin barely refrains from rolling his eyes as Mingyu shuffles into the room. “I was just joking around.”
“You complimented everyone but me,” Mingyu whines, heaving a sigh so that his massive chest — which he never lets anyone forget, always finding some vapid excuse to stretch out his biceps behind him in order to show it off — heaves up and down. “I looked so dumb!”
“Congratulations,” Seokmin says drily, collecting his things. “You are just like everyone else, Kim Mingyu.” Besides, Seokmin thinks as he bites his tongue. No one ever sees you as dumb. They reserve that title for me.
Mingyu falls silent behind him. And because Seokmin doesn’t do too well with a quiet room, he whirls around to find Mingyu staring right back at him.
“You meant it, didn’t you,” Mingyu says quietly. “Is there really nothing you like about me?”
Guilt shuffles back up into Seokmin’s throat. Shame pools there too, in the pit of his stomach, coupled with an annoyance that always seems to be around whenever Mingyu’s involved. Tricky emotions to untangle, those two.
What did he want Seokmin to say? What did he want Seokmin to do?
There’s a reason why Seokmin abhors that damned nickname. Second Kindest After God. He wants to laugh at the absurdity. Who can be that nice all the time? Couldn’t Seokmin be mean, if he wanted to? He was allowed to be human, wasn’t he? To be sharp and unforgiving and a little undeserving of forgiveness?
“It was just a joke,” Seokmin tells Mingyu. “Honest. That’s all it was.”
💥
“What is it about Mingyu that makes him so easy to love?” Seokmin blurts out one day. He and Minghao are piled up on top of each other, browsing through fanmade Youtube videos. Mingyu’s clips always garner so many views, trending because of some random habit or a particularly compelling look.
Seokmin would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous.
What was it like to have that many people’s eyes on you?
Minghao stares at him. Half out of disbelief, half in awe.
“What,” Seokmin says defensively.
“You really don’t know?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t,” Seokmin points out, feeling extra bright and sore from the sudden embarrassment. “You know what, never mind, don’t answer that, it was a silly question—“
“He asked me the same thing about you,” is all Minghao has to offer. He doesn’t say anything more after the fact, even when Seokmin pesters him for more information.
“If you’re so curious, talk to Mingyu about it.” Minghao grumbles fondly, pushing Seokmin’s face away.
Seokmin scoffs. No thanks. As if Seokmin would give Mingyu the satisfaction of knowing that he had the intellectual upper hand on him. It’d only serve to inflate his ego even more, and Seokmin couldn’t be held responsible for what he’d do to Mingyu if that happened.
💥
“Look at this new knife set I got!” Mingyu bursts into their dorm with a fierce shout, brandishing a shiny and new box. It startles Seokmin into knocking over the ingredients for the pizza he’d been in the process of making with Hansol.
Seokmin groans, throwing his arms up the air. “Mingyu-yah! Look what you did!”
It’s like someone let all the air out of a balloon. Mingyu deflates, tail between his legs. “Aish, sorry. I just wanted to share it with you.”
He walks back out as quickly as he’d come in, a tour de force, scurrying back out in shame. Little trails of flour follow him out. Seokmin sighs. He’s going to have to clean that up later.
“You know,” Hansol shrugs, slowly picking up the pepperoni pieces from the floor, “you could be nicer to him.”
Seokmin lets out a mournful sound at the sight of his precious dough on the floor. He wonders if it can be salvaged. “Why would I? He’s the one who came in here and knocked everything sideways.”
Hansol sets his large eyes on Seokmin’s, wide and unblinking. “He’s trying his best.”
Seokmin scowls. So is he. Sometimes Seokmin lets Mingyu talk to him for hours on end. When it’s late at night and everyone is already asleep, Mingyu gets softer with his words, soft enough that he explains everything to Seokmin without making him feel stupid, without trying too hard to sound like he already knows everything. There isn’t any competition between them. They can just be. This is Seokmin’s favorite Mingyu, the one that comes out when no cameras are watching.
Is anyone going to acknowledge that too?
💥
Maybe the problem is this: when Seokmin sees Mingyu, there is this sense of understanding. A mirror with a distorted reflection, blurred around the edges but clear enough that a general shape is left behind. The essence is understood.
Deep down — deep, deep, deep down, there exists some sort of recognition.
They say hatred comes from a place inside yourself. A dark place, a bad place that lists down all your faults and teaches you to recognize them in other people. We love to hate, and we hate to love. The two are so much closer than you really think.
Seokmin sees Mingyu, and thinks, I see a lot of me when I look at you. I hate it.
Is that what I look like, to other people? Is that what that looks like on me? Am I just as pathetic?