Color me Swept off my Feet [deleted original ver. outtakes]
I re-wrote about 60 percent of Color me Swept off my Feet because the storyline didn't work out well. But it had cute scenes with true!bros Namjoon and Yoong that I just wanted out here. And I'm inordinately fond of drunken Yoongi not wanting Jeongguk to swoon. :3
Yoongi had been sporting his red hair for about two months when Namjoon cornered him by his wall rack of snapbacks.
“What is it?” Yoongi asked flatly, arranging one of the hats in a better angle.
Namjoon sighed in a way that suggested Yoongi had deeply offended him. “When are you finally going to ask Jeongguk out, hyung?”
Gaping, Yoongi turned around to face him. “What? What are you even talking about?”
Namjoon waved a hand at his head. “Seriously, you hate making a fuss about your hair. You want to tell me you stopped wearing hats and started dyeing it just because you think it’s cool? Not buying it, hyung.”
Yoongi wanted to punch the triumphant look from Namjoon’s face. “Shut up, asswipe, you don’t know shit. My hair has nothing to do with Jeongguk.” He pointedly turned back to the snapbacks.
“Not what Seokjin-hyung says,” Namjoon sing-songed annoyingly.
“Seokjin?!” Yoongi repeated and he was not screeching, thank you very much. If Seokjin so much as breathed a word to Jeongguk of Yoongi’s embarrassing puppy-crush, he’d have to lock himself in his apartment and never come out again.
“Don’t worry,” Namjoon said cheerfully, even patting Yoongi’s shoulder, the asshole. “He won’t say anything.” At Yoongi’s sarcastic expression, he amended, “To Jeongguk, at least. But really, hyung, aren’t you a little too old to be such a coward?”
“I’m not that old, you brat,” Yoongi replied acerbically, shaking off the hand.
Despairingly, Namjoon raked a hand down his face. “Okay, you know what? Forget that. How about we make a battle plan?”
-
Namjoon’s IQ might be astronomical compared to most other people living on earth, but at the end of their alcohol-fuelled night of strategizing, Yoongi was questioning his intelligence. With mysterious input from Seokjin, they had come up with a plan that involved Yoongi getting a new haircut as well as an extraordinarily ridiculous hair color. If Seokjin was to be believed, nothing more was needed to practically make Jeongguk fall swooning at Yoongi’s feet.
“What if I don’t want him to swoon?” Yoongi had asked, blinking bleary-eyed at the strategy paper on his couch table. He kinda liked Jeongguk on his own two feet and possibly carding gentle fingers through Yoongi’s hair.
Namjoon had snatched up the paper, balled it up and thrown it at Yoongi’s head in frustration. “Just stop dicking around and do it, hyung!”
Yoongi had been sporting his red hair for about two months when Namjoon cornered him by his wall rack of snapbacks.
“What is it?” Yoongi asked flatly, arranging one of the hats in a better angle.
Namjoon sighed in a way that suggested Yoongi had deeply offended him. “When are you finally going to ask Jeongguk out, hyung?”
Gaping, Yoongi turned around to face him. “What? What are you even talking about?”
Namjoon waved a hand at his head. “Seriously, you hate making a fuss about your hair. You want to tell me you stopped wearing hats and started dyeing it just because you think it’s cool? Not buying it, hyung.”
Yoongi wanted to punch the triumphant look from Namjoon’s face. “Shut up, asswipe, you don’t know shit. My hair has nothing to do with Jeongguk.” He pointedly turned back to the snapbacks.
“Not what Seokjin-hyung says,” Namjoon sing-songed annoyingly.
“Seokjin?!” Yoongi repeated and he was not screeching, thank you very much. If Seokjin so much as breathed a word to Jeongguk of Yoongi’s embarrassing puppy-crush, he’d have to lock himself in his apartment and never come out again.
“Don’t worry,” Namjoon said cheerfully, even patting Yoongi’s shoulder, the asshole. “He won’t say anything.” At Yoongi’s sarcastic expression, he amended, “To Jeongguk, at least. But really, hyung, aren’t you a little too old to be such a coward?”
“I’m not that old, you brat,” Yoongi replied acerbically, shaking off the hand.
Despairingly, Namjoon raked a hand down his face. “Okay, you know what? Forget that. How about we make a battle plan?”
-
Namjoon’s IQ might be astronomical compared to most other people living on earth, but at the end of their alcohol-fuelled night of strategizing, Yoongi was questioning his intelligence. With mysterious input from Seokjin, they had come up with a plan that involved Yoongi getting a new haircut as well as an extraordinarily ridiculous hair color. If Seokjin was to be believed, nothing more was needed to practically make Jeongguk fall swooning at Yoongi’s feet.
“What if I don’t want him to swoon?” Yoongi had asked, blinking bleary-eyed at the strategy paper on his couch table. He kinda liked Jeongguk on his own two feet and possibly carding gentle fingers through Yoongi’s hair.
Namjoon had snatched up the paper, balled it up and thrown it at Yoongi’s head in frustration. “Just stop dicking around and do it, hyung!”