[fanfic] Of masks and sunglasses and smiles
Title: Of masks and sunglasses and smiles
Fandom: BTS
Characters: Mainly RapMon and J-Hope, cameos from the rest of BTS
Genre: drabble
Wordcount: 1305
A/N: This was written immediately after debut, basically before I knew their personalities very well. Dusted off it now - just added a few lines here and there where I randomly dropped off. I think I drifted away from the original idea a bit, bit it is what it is now. Still, first BTS fic yaaayyyy. I'm on a roll with first fandom fics these days, lol.
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Hoseok glared at the studded mask placed before him on the table. Or rather, Hoseok thought he glared at it; while in truth he was just pouting and staring at the offending object with a slight frown.
All around him the make-up artists and coordi-noonas and technicians and other random people Hoseok could care less about ran over each other to try and fix this or that during the show currently progressing on stage. Hoseok didn’t mind much; he and the rest of BTS were done, they had performed two songs and were now officially relieved. The other members were in various stages of dying or sleeping next to him, except for Namjoon, who was busy fiddling with his sunglasses. Or shades. Or whatever the fuck he wanted to call them.
“It’s a hassle to perform with this stuff all over your face, right?” Hoseok nodded towards the glasses. “More trouble than they’re worth.”
Namjoon glanced up at him. “What?”
“Your shades, man. Must be a pain in the ass on stage.”
“Not really,” Namjoon shrugged. “They actually help more. And it separates me from the rest of you losers by looking cooler.” He chuckled. “Or takes the attention of my hair. Seriously, what the fuck.”
Hoseok stared at him, displeasure ever so evident on his face to Namjoon after all these years.
“What’s the matter with you?” the younger asked with a snicker. “You look like someone killed your puppy. Put the mask back on and I might believe whatever angry energy you’re trying to emit.”
“Nooo, the mask’s the problem!” Hoseok whined, making Namjoon raise an eyebrow. What’s wrong with that hyung. “I hate that thing.”
“Why?” Namjoon thought his inquiry was a bit redundant, as Hoseok would probably tell him anyway, but it didn’t hurt to be a bit indulgent once in a while. “I thought it was nice.”
“That’s because you haven’t tried wearing it on stage,” Hoseok huffed. “It’s horrible to wear up there. I can’t breathe properly, it gets clammy and nasty, and if I don’t pay attention, it keeps falling down!”
“Still looks good, though,” Namjoon shrugged. “You gotta sacrifice shit for image, you know what.”
“Yeah yeah, it looks gangster and whatnot,” Hoseok conceded easily. “But why do I have to be the one wearing it? Why not Yoongi-hyung or Jimin or anyone?”
“Yo, hyung,” Namjoon gave a slight smirk to the guy that was supposedly-older-than-him. “Have you seen what happens when you’re not paying attention to your face? That’s nasty business, shit.”
“Shut up.” He yanked a pillow from underneath Taehyung’s shoulder to toss at Namjoon (much to the singer’s dismay). “My face is fucking gorgeous.”
“Rewind your delusions, huh?” He threw the pillow back. “Your face is in the way of our image, idiot.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”
“You smile too much.” Namjoon dodged the incoming pillow, making it fall to the floor where no one bothered picking it up until a sound technician stumbled over it and made a fair-sized mayhem out of the case. “And you look like a fucking fairy when you smile.”
“I do not!” Hoseok’s shriek was sufficiently indignant, even if he wasn’t sure was Namjoon was referring to. What does a fairy look like anyway? “I look like a handsome man!”
“No, you don’t,” Namjoon insisted with a smirk. “You look like an idiot. It needs to be covered up, yo. Besides, you sorta look like a serial killer with all that eyeliner and the mask and shit. I like that.”
“Serial killer? Is that our image? Why the fuck are you our leader?” Hoseok leaned back in his chair to give Namjoon’s shin a lighthearted kick. “You suck.”
“You losers suck more, that’s why,” Namjoon retorted easily. And he meant every word.
“At least promotions will be over soon.”
“Praise the lord!” The two rappers glanced over at Seokjin as he moaned, but apart from grateful exclamations, the vocalist didn’t seem to be particularly interested in joining their conversation.
“Shut up, hyung, you’ve only got one line and two spare seconds to look pretty,” Jimin complained next to him. Hoseok could’ve sworn he was sleeping, the way he was hunched over the armrest of Jungkook’s chair. The golden maknae was definitely sleeping, anyway. Close enough to bedtime.
“I love how you all completely discard my woes here.” Namjoon just rolled his eyes at Hoseok’s insistent complaining, and leaned back in his chair. He platonically loved Hoseok and all that stuff, but he could be so annoying at times.
Hoseok, of course, thought nothing less of Namjoon.
“Write a rap about it or something, and see the world magically solve all your problems for you.”
“Hey! Bitch Hoseok-hyung if you must, but keep the music out of it!”
“Oh, so now you want to be a leader.”
“Fuck you.” Namjoon halted for a second, and his tone turned sincere. Screw manly badass rapper image. They were backstage, and Hoseok was his hyung. He could have this one. “But hey, I really meant it, though.”
“Uhhh….” Hoseok frowned at him. “Am I supposed to say ‘fuck you, too’ with deep emotions? Because I don’t really - “
“Give this hyung a Darwin-award, someone!” Namjoon cut him off with exasperated fondness. “No, I really meant that about your smile.”
“What about it?” Hoseok looked at him suspiciously. “You said I look like a fairy. Which I completely disagree with, you retard.”
Oh, how difficult Hoseok could be sometimes. Usually, Namjoon thought he was the least challenging to deal with - save for Yoongi, who tended to be more or less on the same wavelength as Namjoon, or at least very close. Hoseok tended to be understanding and easy-going, even surprisingly smart at times. But then again, on days like today… Namjoon wasn’t even sure if the dancer was trying.
“We write lyrics together, I know you have better metaphor understanding than that,” he pointed out. Hoseok raised an eyebrow.
“Is that really a metaphor Kim Namjoon would use?” And ohhh, how the fans would have loved that. “Besides, I still don’t know what it means.”
“I am going to spell this out for you - “ Namjoon gritted his teeth - “very slowly and painfully. Get it through, okay. Fairies are pretty. Think Tinkerbell. Aesthetically pleasing. Which means, when you look like a fairy, you look…?”
“Ooohhh, I know the answer, I know it!”
“Shut up, Jimin.”
“You did not just call me pretty,” Hoseok frowned again. “That… I don’t even know where to start.”
“I’m the only pretty one in this group.”
“Go away, hyung, no one likes you.”
“I’m handsome.”
“No, you look like a horse.” Namjoon sighed again. Bastard group. Bastard Hoseok.
Next time, he should keep his thickly veiled compliments to himself. Less trouble, in the end.
Hoseok threw his arms out dramatically and shook his head at Namjoon, apparently as frustrated as their leader. He just wanted to complain about his mask, damn it.
“But when you smile, it looks… Good. Lights up the room and all that shit.”
Taehyung wanted to comment on the increasing amount of gay in this conversation, but refrained in case it meant the hyungs would shut up. He didn’t want that. He needed this entertainment after they stole his pillow.
“It’s too bright,” Namjoon concluded awkwardly. “Like I said, it fucks up our image. And right now, we really need to keep it. The crowd out there still sees us as badass, rebel youngsters, and they won’t if you go out and crack that innocent shitgrin.”
“…”
“…”
“Are you sure?” Sure about what, Hoseok? Sure that your smile is pretty, sure that they need to maintain their visuals, sure that the stage isn’t ready to receive Hoseok in all his glory yet?
“Naaahhh, the mask is probably random.”
“Namjoon!”
Fandom: BTS
Characters: Mainly RapMon and J-Hope, cameos from the rest of BTS
Genre: drabble
Wordcount: 1305
A/N: This was written immediately after debut, basically before I knew their personalities very well. Dusted off it now - just added a few lines here and there where I randomly dropped off. I think I drifted away from the original idea a bit, bit it is what it is now. Still, first BTS fic yaaayyyy. I'm on a roll with first fandom fics these days, lol.
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Hoseok glared at the studded mask placed before him on the table. Or rather, Hoseok thought he glared at it; while in truth he was just pouting and staring at the offending object with a slight frown.
All around him the make-up artists and coordi-noonas and technicians and other random people Hoseok could care less about ran over each other to try and fix this or that during the show currently progressing on stage. Hoseok didn’t mind much; he and the rest of BTS were done, they had performed two songs and were now officially relieved. The other members were in various stages of dying or sleeping next to him, except for Namjoon, who was busy fiddling with his sunglasses. Or shades. Or whatever the fuck he wanted to call them.
“It’s a hassle to perform with this stuff all over your face, right?” Hoseok nodded towards the glasses. “More trouble than they’re worth.”
Namjoon glanced up at him. “What?”
“Your shades, man. Must be a pain in the ass on stage.”
“Not really,” Namjoon shrugged. “They actually help more. And it separates me from the rest of you losers by looking cooler.” He chuckled. “Or takes the attention of my hair. Seriously, what the fuck.”
Hoseok stared at him, displeasure ever so evident on his face to Namjoon after all these years.
“What’s the matter with you?” the younger asked with a snicker. “You look like someone killed your puppy. Put the mask back on and I might believe whatever angry energy you’re trying to emit.”
“Nooo, the mask’s the problem!” Hoseok whined, making Namjoon raise an eyebrow. What’s wrong with that hyung. “I hate that thing.”
“Why?” Namjoon thought his inquiry was a bit redundant, as Hoseok would probably tell him anyway, but it didn’t hurt to be a bit indulgent once in a while. “I thought it was nice.”
“That’s because you haven’t tried wearing it on stage,” Hoseok huffed. “It’s horrible to wear up there. I can’t breathe properly, it gets clammy and nasty, and if I don’t pay attention, it keeps falling down!”
“Still looks good, though,” Namjoon shrugged. “You gotta sacrifice shit for image, you know what.”
“Yeah yeah, it looks gangster and whatnot,” Hoseok conceded easily. “But why do I have to be the one wearing it? Why not Yoongi-hyung or Jimin or anyone?”
“Yo, hyung,” Namjoon gave a slight smirk to the guy that was supposedly-older-than-him. “Have you seen what happens when you’re not paying attention to your face? That’s nasty business, shit.”
“Shut up.” He yanked a pillow from underneath Taehyung’s shoulder to toss at Namjoon (much to the singer’s dismay). “My face is fucking gorgeous.”
“Rewind your delusions, huh?” He threw the pillow back. “Your face is in the way of our image, idiot.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”
“You smile too much.” Namjoon dodged the incoming pillow, making it fall to the floor where no one bothered picking it up until a sound technician stumbled over it and made a fair-sized mayhem out of the case. “And you look like a fucking fairy when you smile.”
“I do not!” Hoseok’s shriek was sufficiently indignant, even if he wasn’t sure was Namjoon was referring to. What does a fairy look like anyway? “I look like a handsome man!”
“No, you don’t,” Namjoon insisted with a smirk. “You look like an idiot. It needs to be covered up, yo. Besides, you sorta look like a serial killer with all that eyeliner and the mask and shit. I like that.”
“Serial killer? Is that our image? Why the fuck are you our leader?” Hoseok leaned back in his chair to give Namjoon’s shin a lighthearted kick. “You suck.”
“You losers suck more, that’s why,” Namjoon retorted easily. And he meant every word.
“At least promotions will be over soon.”
“Praise the lord!” The two rappers glanced over at Seokjin as he moaned, but apart from grateful exclamations, the vocalist didn’t seem to be particularly interested in joining their conversation.
“Shut up, hyung, you’ve only got one line and two spare seconds to look pretty,” Jimin complained next to him. Hoseok could’ve sworn he was sleeping, the way he was hunched over the armrest of Jungkook’s chair. The golden maknae was definitely sleeping, anyway. Close enough to bedtime.
“I love how you all completely discard my woes here.” Namjoon just rolled his eyes at Hoseok’s insistent complaining, and leaned back in his chair. He platonically loved Hoseok and all that stuff, but he could be so annoying at times.
Hoseok, of course, thought nothing less of Namjoon.
“Write a rap about it or something, and see the world magically solve all your problems for you.”
“Hey! Bitch Hoseok-hyung if you must, but keep the music out of it!”
“Oh, so now you want to be a leader.”
“Fuck you.” Namjoon halted for a second, and his tone turned sincere. Screw manly badass rapper image. They were backstage, and Hoseok was his hyung. He could have this one. “But hey, I really meant it, though.”
“Uhhh….” Hoseok frowned at him. “Am I supposed to say ‘fuck you, too’ with deep emotions? Because I don’t really - “
“Give this hyung a Darwin-award, someone!” Namjoon cut him off with exasperated fondness. “No, I really meant that about your smile.”
“What about it?” Hoseok looked at him suspiciously. “You said I look like a fairy. Which I completely disagree with, you retard.”
Oh, how difficult Hoseok could be sometimes. Usually, Namjoon thought he was the least challenging to deal with - save for Yoongi, who tended to be more or less on the same wavelength as Namjoon, or at least very close. Hoseok tended to be understanding and easy-going, even surprisingly smart at times. But then again, on days like today… Namjoon wasn’t even sure if the dancer was trying.
“We write lyrics together, I know you have better metaphor understanding than that,” he pointed out. Hoseok raised an eyebrow.
“Is that really a metaphor Kim Namjoon would use?” And ohhh, how the fans would have loved that. “Besides, I still don’t know what it means.”
“I am going to spell this out for you - “ Namjoon gritted his teeth - “very slowly and painfully. Get it through, okay. Fairies are pretty. Think Tinkerbell. Aesthetically pleasing. Which means, when you look like a fairy, you look…?”
“Ooohhh, I know the answer, I know it!”
“Shut up, Jimin.”
“You did not just call me pretty,” Hoseok frowned again. “That… I don’t even know where to start.”
“I’m the only pretty one in this group.”
“Go away, hyung, no one likes you.”
“I’m handsome.”
“No, you look like a horse.” Namjoon sighed again. Bastard group. Bastard Hoseok.
Next time, he should keep his thickly veiled compliments to himself. Less trouble, in the end.
Hoseok threw his arms out dramatically and shook his head at Namjoon, apparently as frustrated as their leader. He just wanted to complain about his mask, damn it.
“But when you smile, it looks… Good. Lights up the room and all that shit.”
Taehyung wanted to comment on the increasing amount of gay in this conversation, but refrained in case it meant the hyungs would shut up. He didn’t want that. He needed this entertainment after they stole his pillow.
“It’s too bright,” Namjoon concluded awkwardly. “Like I said, it fucks up our image. And right now, we really need to keep it. The crowd out there still sees us as badass, rebel youngsters, and they won’t if you go out and crack that innocent shitgrin.”
“…”
“…”
“Are you sure?” Sure about what, Hoseok? Sure that your smile is pretty, sure that they need to maintain their visuals, sure that the stage isn’t ready to receive Hoseok in all his glory yet?
“Naaahhh, the mask is probably random.”
“Namjoon!”