The Year is 1967

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After breaking into a beautiful black Chevy Impala, your boyfriend Zhang Yixing decides to take you on a ride.

(I'm a little off in the "greaser" time period but I'm just a sucker for old cars and leather jackets ;) )

Update: Originally this was going to some after the Xiuhan smut but I can't keep you all waiting so here it is! Enjoy is my darlings~

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He was careful and precise, taking his time to open the car door. His leather jacket hugged his back nicely but it was bit warm to be wearing it. Yixing poked out his tongue slightly, turning to look behind every so often so he wouldn't be caught by any of the rich living around. He heard laughter coming from one side of the street and he ducked, camouflaging with the color of the sleek vehicle. He spotted two boys, no older than eighteen, walking down the streets with their Soc-like language echoing down the neighborhood.

"Those damn greasers better watch out or next time we're for sure gonna knife 'em good," the taller one with blonde hair slurred, clearly drunk. The other only hummed, holding his friend up and trying to come up with a good excuse as to why his friend was hammered. Yixing rolled his eyes, getting down lower as he looked at his wrist watch and checked the time. Finally, the two boys rounded the corner and disappeared, leaving the street silent once again. Yixing stood up and got to work again, breathing out in relief when he heard the familiar click of the car door unlocking.

He slid into the beautiful machine, one that he only drives in his dream.Yixing had a deep fascination for cars, always the one to help his older brother fix the rusty pick-up truck. Yifan regularly comes to him for help when something breaks down in that old metal bucket. His dream was to one day have enough money to buy himself the newest 1967 Chevy Impala and tell all the rich idiots to suck it. But for now, he'll stick to stealing the metal beauty for a few hours. He checked the compartment for the keys, not really wanting to hot wire it. He cheered softly when he found them hidden in the cup holder of the car. "Hope the old gentleman doesn't mind I take my girl out for a ride," Yixing jokes, putting the key into the ignition and starting the car. He checked his hair in the mirror, making sure the gel was still holding his hair up. He takes the break off and rolls out of the drive way, turning up the volume and singing along to whatever came on.

Yixing drives past the drunk and sober boys, sticking out his head. He pushes down on the horn, the loud noise making the two cringe. "You better sober up Namjoon! Don't want daddy taking away your stamp collection now do ya?!" he hollered, pressing down on the accelerator and zooming off, avoiding the rock that the blonde throws. He laughed as he drove along the empty roads, turning up the volume of the radio. "I used to be the getaway dreamer!" he belts out, drumming his hands against the steering wheel and bobbing his head as he turns a corner on a familiar street. "But whatever we do, running in the night with you!"

Yixing lowers the volume down, halting in front of a two story house. A window is open, light streaming out of it and there, sitting on her wooden desk, was the girl of his dreams. Y/N L/N was part of the higher class but she had very different views. She believed that all greasers and socs could be friends, could start relationships. She believed in that theory so hard that here she was dating Zhang Yixing, the complete opposite of her, a total greaser with a knife hidden in the side of his boots and the boy that has head over heels for her. Both were deeply in love with each other, not caring what others thought and simply indulging in their own existence. Yes, they might be young but they grasp the concept of love quite well.

Y/N's parents knew that she was dating a greaser and though at first they were completely against it, they eventually grew to like the boy. They could not deny that he was a sweetheart and very polite young man (aside from stealing cars every once in a while). So, Yixing turned the car off, whistling the tune of the song on the radio and swinging the car keys on his pointer finger as he walked up the steps to Y/N's house. He rung the doorbell, straightening himself up and making sure nothing was stuck in his teeth and that he smelled just the way Y/N liked.

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