Summary:
George, the preppy soc, has a good reputation. But in his convertible at the drive-in, the bad-boy greaser Dream, may just ruin that.
AKA: A greaser/soc au inspired by The Outsiders
"Hi, handsome," George cooed.
He extended a delicate hand to touch Dream's rugged face.
The contrast was stark— the two were opposites, written in the stars to be apart.
Yet, here they were, so close in a car that looked like cherry soda and they were the ice, melting at one another's touch.
"You act like you hate me, but then the second we're alone..." Dream teased, his face split into a grin.
Note: *BLOOD*, physical fighting, knives,
Worn-down, synthetic leather, stretched over whitened knuckles.
Blond hair slicked with gel, combs raked through, leaving textured grooves.
Dark denim pants with straps that dangle, silver chains dangling from the belt loops.
Stolen lighters hidden in pockets with thick zippers.
Fabric swishing and metal clinking, shoulders set back as he walked.
Black boots with thick soles, wallets with thin stacks of cash.
Necklace chain threaded onto his chin, he bit at his lip with sharp fangs and tasted the metal.
The moon was full and radiant, casting an eerie light of shades of blue.
TAP TAP TAP.
His cut-up knuckle donned in scars and scabs rapped at the glass.
The shiny silica reflected his features, cheekbones and a jawline capable of destruction.
His tall body, oozed danger from every crevice, looking odd juxtaposed to the expensive car he's knocked on.
A red convertible with stripes of white, painted like a can of cherry Coca-Cola.
Cream seats with fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror, clean dash and a cassette tape.
"Dddreammmm!"
His name was stretched thin, whispered-yelled through a rolled-down crack in the glass.
"What, babe?" Dream responded, coyness dancing on his tongue.
He knew he was supposed to be sneaky, check over his broad shoulders and climb through second-story windows.
He understood why George was cautious— if anyone found out about them, it would be his head.
If George's psycho ex-boyfriend didn't kill him or sue him, or both, George's father certainly would.
"Just get in the car and... don't get seen."
Dream scoffed but felt his heart twinging with joy and anxiety.
Something about George...
He elevated Dream's blood pressure, got his capillaries gushing with red iron, and dripped in hemoglobin.
Dream ducked, his tall head still blocking the white projector from the car behind him.
He quickly walked around George's car, kicking up dry dust with his black boots.
Fingers threaded thickly through the silver handle and he pulled, opening the car door.
Dream let out a gust of breath as he plopped down on George's passenger seat.
YOU ARE READING
Dnf/Karlnap smut and oneshots (Reupload)
RomanceMY ACCOUNT GOT DELETED AND SADLY SO DID MY BOOK SO UHM HERE IS A REUPLOAD ILL TRY TO REUPLOAD EVERYTHING BUT I MIGHT FORGOT SOME OF THE CHAPTERS BC THERE WAS SO MUCH BUT I DID WRITE SOME IN GOOGLE DOCS SO-
