Ship/Member: Seokmin/Vernon/Minghao Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: post-disbandment, ambiguous relationship(?), domesticity Permission to remix: Yes Word count: 1654
going for the rarest pair!
also, dear lilli, i'm sorry this kind of isn't really the prompt... it got away from me lol *** What do they dream of, once Seventeen disbands? Vernon has big dreams. Seokmin has smaller dreams. Minghao doesn’t dream at all.
It made sense for them to move in together after it all ended. When Seungcheol gathered them all together after that fateful company meeting, he made it perfectly clear. Just because they’re not performing together anymore, it doesn’t mean they can’t still be together. Everyone nodded, silently pledging to keep their bond alight, pretending not to notice the thickness of Seungcheol’s voice and the way he couldn’t quite look them in the eye. So, when they discussed their future plans, it made sense for them to group together. Vernon, Seokmin and Minghao. Their dreams were closest together, so they found a place and tried to make it work.
Vernon still dreams big. His idol dream didn’t quite work out, but he still works for Pledis as a songwriter and producer. He caught the bug - that’s how he prefers to phrase it. He started writing music and now he can’t stop. So he still works with Jihoon, holed up in the studio, patiently working things through. Even in their apartment, Minghao sometimes gets to see Vernon mulling things over, changing a word or two when it doesn’t quite feel right, humming fragments of melodies to himself. It’s a relief, really, that Minghao still gets to see this much.
Vernon wants to write music that will change something. He admits as much, on one of Minghao’s lonelier nights when he needs someone to drink with. He says, in the same calm way in which he’d talk about the weather,
“If I could get even one person to change their way of seeing the world, that would be a success for me. If I can get one person to think from a different point of view, that’s enough for me.”
“Isn’t that hard?” Minghao asks, swirling his wine around in his glass. “To change perceptions like that?”
“I think it’s important.” Vernon’s eyebrows rise a little as he speaks. Minghao likes that about him - you can tell when he really cares about what he’s saying. “I think we need to be able to change our minds and change other people’s. Music is fun and light-hearted and all of that too, but I think sometimes music needs to move things forward.”
Minghao just nods. He knows, of course, that Vernon’s more thoughtful tracks are buried somewhere on a hard drive. He knows that right now, he’s busy writing title tracks for groups whose dreams might fizzle out like Minghao’s. But Vernon is so persistent with what he wants, and so quietly confident in his own words, that Minghao can’t help but believe in him. Minghao himself hasn’t had anything to motivate him like that.
Seokmin, meanwhile, dreams smaller. He doesn’t want to change the world or shape minds. He just wants to make people happy. He wants to get up on stage and perform, and make people happy that way. He’s not really sure he belongs anywhere else.
“I think I’m a bit greedy, actually,” he says one day, as Minghao helps him with his makeup before he heads to a musical audition. His eyes are closed, and Minghao’s fishing eyeliner out of the makeup box. “I want to be able to sing and act and make people feel something. I want people to be impressed by me when they see me perform.”
“Is that greedy?” Minghao replies, starting a smooth line on Seokmin’s right eye.
“Kind of. There’s something magical about it, Myungho-yah, when you perform for people - you know what it’s like. It’s hard work and it’s tiring but when you’re up there it feels like nothing else matters, like you’re floating somewhere really high up, like you’re untouchable and- and loved. And I want that all the time. I want people to see me perform and love it, all the time. Isn’t that a bit greedy?”
Minghao knows that greed. He hasn’t felt it for a while.
“I don’t think that’s greedy,” he says, moving to Seokmin’s other eye. “You’ve worked hard, and you want people to know that. It’s natural, if anything. You deserve whatever love they’re giving to you.”
“You think so?”
“Of course I do. Seokmin-ah, you’re one of the best performers I know. You can open your eyes now.”
Seokmin does, fluttering his eyelashes a little. A small smile plays on the corner of his lips, and he looks at Minghao like he’s said something revolutionary. He hasn’t. He’s just told the truth.
Minghao hasn’t dreamed. He can’t. His dream was crushed by that company meeting, and he can’t find it in himself to dream again. What good is dreaming, if he can’t expect anything good to come from it?
Seokmin and Vernon can dream because, at the end of the day, they can expect to reach it. Minghao doesn’t have that luxury. Sure, Minghao teaches at a dance studio and cooks Chinese food and lives a perfectly reasonable life, in a country that he can just about call home and where he’s had to squeeze to fit in. But his first big dream has collapsed, and now Minghao can’t even hope for a new one, let alone expect anything. Vernon is defiant and persistent, Seokmin is dedicated and passionate, and Minghao lost all of those things long ago. Now, he can’t even bring himself to dream.
Except. Except maybe he can.
Today has been a tiring one at the studio. He’s been teaching classes at all skill levels the whole day, and he just wants to get home. He opens the door, and is greeted immediately by the smell of cooking.
“Seokmin-ah?” he calls out to the air.
“Myungho-yah, come here!” is the reply.
So he does. He makes his way over to the kitchen where Seokmin is standing over the stove, moving some rice around in a pan. His sleeves are rolled up, and his hair is a little ruffled, probably from the exertion of the cooking. He’s wearing loose shorts and a big hoodie that he used to wear years ago in the Seventeen dorms, one that Minghao would recognise anywhere. The sizzling of the pan is almost drowned out by a Paul Kim ballad playing over the speaker, which Seokmin is softly humming under his breath. When Minghao shuffles over to greet him, he turns to face him with a big smile, one that Minghao has seen for years but still manages to ease the storm in his mind.
Being around Seokmin is always easy. How lucky that this is what Minghao sees when he gets home.
“How was work?” Seokmin asks. “Tiring.”
Seokmin makes a sympathetic noise, before scooping out some of the rice and holding it out for Minghao to try. Minghao blows on it and eats it, trying not to burn his mouth.
“Is it good?”
Minghao nods enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs-up. Seokmin grins, before turning back to the pan.
“This will be ready in about a minute,” he says, concentrating on the rice. “Vernon’s just finishing up some work on his laptop, so can you go call him?”
Minghao makes his way over to Vernon’s room, knocking gently on the door before opening it a fraction. Vernon wouldn’t hear the knocking anyway - he’s usually got these big headphones on.
Minghao’s right, of course. Vernon does have the big headphones on. Minghao has seen this exact scene pretty much every day for the past two years. Vernon works so hard all the time. Minghao walks over and taps him on the shoulder.
“Hyung!” Vernon exclaims, pushing off his headphones. “Hi, hyung. How was work?”
Minghao smiles at that. Vernon has grown so much, but sometimes he sounds so much like the scrawny teenager from all those years ago. It’s nice, to have something so constant.
“How was your day?” he asks, gently knocking into Vernon’s shoulder.
“Good, good. Jihoon-hyung says he never gets to see you. You’d better work something out with him.”
Minghao’s stomach tightens at that. He can never really hang around with his former bandmates that much. It always makes him want something that has slipped far out of reach. He nods anyway, as they take their places at the low table.
Seokmin has already set everything up. He’s careful like that. And he’s good at cooking too - if Minghao weren’t eating, Vernon’s wide eyes and noises would have told him as much.
“Hyung,” Vernon says, still chewing, “this is really really delicious. Really delicious.”
Seokmin laughs, bright like a bell. “Really really delicious?” he replies, imitating Vernon a little bit.
Vernon nods, taking the teasing in his stride. “You have to teach me how to make this!”
“Vernon-ah,” Minghao interrupts gently, “last time you tried to cook you turned our chicken to ash. I think maybe we should stick to the cooking for now.”
Vernon grins sheepishly, just as Minghao knew he would, and Seokmin laughs again, his fond gaze warming the room, and it all feels so easy.
“And you?” Seokmin asks. “Do you like the food, Myungho-yah?”
“You know I like it, I tried it earlier.”
“But I want to hear it from you again,” Seokmin replies, leaning towards Minghao, almost like he wants to knock into him gently.
“It’s good,” Minghao says without hesitating. “It’s always good.”
Seokmin beams at Minghao, and Vernon beams at Seokmin, and the room is so full of simple warmth and joy that it makes Minghao want to burst. He carries on eating until his stomach and his mind are full, until he thinks that nothing else in the world could make him feel this peaceful.
Minghao’s dreams are the smallest. He dreams he can eat dinner with Seokmin and Vernon every day. For him, that’s enough.
[FILL] to dream big and small
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: post-disbandment, ambiguous relationship(?), domesticity
Permission to remix: Yes
Word count: 1654
going for the rarest pair!
also, dear lilli, i'm sorry this kind of isn't really the prompt... it got away from me lol
***
What do they dream of, once Seventeen disbands? Vernon has big dreams. Seokmin has smaller dreams. Minghao doesn’t dream at all.
It made sense for them to move in together after it all ended. When Seungcheol gathered them all together after that fateful company meeting, he made it perfectly clear. Just because they’re not performing together anymore, it doesn’t mean they can’t still be together. Everyone nodded, silently pledging to keep their bond alight, pretending not to notice the thickness of Seungcheol’s voice and the way he couldn’t quite look them in the eye. So, when they discussed their future plans, it made sense for them to group together. Vernon, Seokmin and Minghao. Their dreams were closest together, so they found a place and tried to make it work.
Vernon still dreams big. His idol dream didn’t quite work out, but he still works for Pledis as a songwriter and producer. He caught the bug - that’s how he prefers to phrase it. He started writing music and now he can’t stop. So he still works with Jihoon, holed up in the studio, patiently working things through. Even in their apartment, Minghao sometimes gets to see Vernon mulling things over, changing a word or two when it doesn’t quite feel right, humming fragments of melodies to himself. It’s a relief, really, that Minghao still gets to see this much.
Vernon wants to write music that will change something. He admits as much, on one of Minghao’s lonelier nights when he needs someone to drink with. He says, in the same calm way in which he’d talk about the weather,
“If I could get even one person to change their way of seeing the world, that would be a success for me. If I can get one person to think from a different point of view, that’s enough for me.”
“Isn’t that hard?” Minghao asks, swirling his wine around in his glass. “To change perceptions like that?”
“I think it’s important.” Vernon’s eyebrows rise a little as he speaks. Minghao likes that about him - you can tell when he really cares about what he’s saying. “I think we need to be able to change our minds and change other people’s. Music is fun and light-hearted and all of that too, but I think sometimes music needs to move things forward.”
Minghao just nods. He knows, of course, that Vernon’s more thoughtful tracks are buried somewhere on a hard drive. He knows that right now, he’s busy writing title tracks for groups whose dreams might fizzle out like Minghao’s. But Vernon is so persistent with what he wants, and so quietly confident in his own words, that Minghao can’t help but believe in him. Minghao himself hasn’t had anything to motivate him like that.
Seokmin, meanwhile, dreams smaller. He doesn’t want to change the world or shape minds. He just wants to make people happy. He wants to get up on stage and perform, and make people happy that way. He’s not really sure he belongs anywhere else.
“I think I’m a bit greedy, actually,” he says one day, as Minghao helps him with his makeup before he heads to a musical audition. His eyes are closed, and Minghao’s fishing eyeliner out of the makeup box. “I want to be able to sing and act and make people feel something. I want people to be impressed by me when they see me perform.”
“Is that greedy?” Minghao replies, starting a smooth line on Seokmin’s right eye.
“Kind of. There’s something magical about it, Myungho-yah, when you perform for people - you know what it’s like. It’s hard work and it’s tiring but when you’re up there it feels like nothing else matters, like you’re floating somewhere really high up, like you’re untouchable and- and loved. And I want that all the time. I want people to see me perform and love it, all the time. Isn’t that a bit greedy?”
Minghao knows that greed. He hasn’t felt it for a while.
“I don’t think that’s greedy,” he says, moving to Seokmin’s other eye. “You’ve worked hard, and you want people to know that. It’s natural, if anything. You deserve whatever love they’re giving to you.”
“You think so?”
“Of course I do. Seokmin-ah, you’re one of the best performers I know. You can open your eyes now.”
Seokmin does, fluttering his eyelashes a little. A small smile plays on the corner of his lips, and he looks at Minghao like he’s said something revolutionary. He hasn’t. He’s just told the truth.
Minghao hasn’t dreamed. He can’t. His dream was crushed by that company meeting, and he can’t find it in himself to dream again. What good is dreaming, if he can’t expect anything good to come from it?
Seokmin and Vernon can dream because, at the end of the day, they can expect to reach it. Minghao doesn’t have that luxury. Sure, Minghao teaches at a dance studio and cooks Chinese food and lives a perfectly reasonable life, in a country that he can just about call home and where he’s had to squeeze to fit in. But his first big dream has collapsed, and now Minghao can’t even hope for a new one, let alone expect anything. Vernon is defiant and persistent, Seokmin is dedicated and passionate, and Minghao lost all of those things long ago. Now, he can’t even bring himself to dream.
Except. Except maybe he can.
Today has been a tiring one at the studio. He’s been teaching classes at all skill levels the whole day, and he just wants to get home. He opens the door, and is greeted immediately by the smell of cooking.
“Seokmin-ah?” he calls out to the air.
“Myungho-yah, come here!” is the reply.
So he does. He makes his way over to the kitchen where Seokmin is standing over the stove, moving some rice around in a pan. His sleeves are rolled up, and his hair is a little ruffled, probably from the exertion of the cooking. He’s wearing loose shorts and a big hoodie that he used to wear years ago in the Seventeen dorms, one that Minghao would recognise anywhere. The sizzling of the pan is almost drowned out by a Paul Kim ballad playing over the speaker, which Seokmin is softly humming under his breath. When Minghao shuffles over to greet him, he turns to face him with a big smile, one that Minghao has seen for years but still manages to ease the storm in his mind.
Being around Seokmin is always easy. How lucky that this is what Minghao sees when he gets home.
“How was work?” Seokmin asks.
“Tiring.”
Seokmin makes a sympathetic noise, before scooping out some of the rice and holding it out for Minghao to try. Minghao blows on it and eats it, trying not to burn his mouth.
“Is it good?”
Minghao nods enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs-up. Seokmin grins, before turning back to the pan.
“This will be ready in about a minute,” he says, concentrating on the rice. “Vernon’s just finishing up some work on his laptop, so can you go call him?”
Minghao makes his way over to Vernon’s room, knocking gently on the door before opening it a fraction. Vernon wouldn’t hear the knocking anyway - he’s usually got these big headphones on.
Minghao’s right, of course. Vernon does have the big headphones on. Minghao has seen this exact scene pretty much every day for the past two years. Vernon works so hard all the time. Minghao walks over and taps him on the shoulder.
“Hyung!” Vernon exclaims, pushing off his headphones. “Hi, hyung. How was work?”
“Tiring. Seokmin says that dinner’s ready.”
“Thanks, hyung. I’m starving. Really really starving.”
Minghao smiles at that. Vernon has grown so much, but sometimes he sounds so much like the scrawny teenager from all those years ago. It’s nice, to have something so constant.
“How was your day?” he asks, gently knocking into Vernon’s shoulder.
“Good, good. Jihoon-hyung says he never gets to see you. You’d better work something out with him.”
Minghao’s stomach tightens at that. He can never really hang around with his former bandmates that much. It always makes him want something that has slipped far out of reach. He nods anyway, as they take their places at the low table.
Seokmin has already set everything up. He’s careful like that. And he’s good at cooking too - if Minghao weren’t eating, Vernon’s wide eyes and noises would have told him as much.
“Hyung,” Vernon says, still chewing, “this is really really delicious. Really delicious.”
Seokmin laughs, bright like a bell. “Really really delicious?” he replies, imitating Vernon a little bit.
Vernon nods, taking the teasing in his stride. “You have to teach me how to make this!”
“Vernon-ah,” Minghao interrupts gently, “last time you tried to cook you turned our chicken to ash. I think maybe we should stick to the cooking for now.”
Vernon grins sheepishly, just as Minghao knew he would, and Seokmin laughs again, his fond gaze warming the room, and it all feels so easy.
“And you?” Seokmin asks. “Do you like the food, Myungho-yah?”
“You know I like it, I tried it earlier.”
“But I want to hear it from you again,” Seokmin replies, leaning towards Minghao, almost like he wants to knock into him gently.
“It’s good,” Minghao says without hesitating. “It’s always good.”
Seokmin beams at Minghao, and Vernon beams at Seokmin, and the room is so full of simple warmth and joy that it makes Minghao want to burst. He carries on eating until his stomach and his mind are full, until he thinks that nothing else in the world could make him feel this peaceful.
Minghao’s dreams are the smallest. He dreams he can eat dinner with Seokmin and Vernon every day. For him, that’s enough.