Who's to say what's evil?

In a world of good versus evil, where people are so simple minded that that's all they can see, a boy tries his best to work through and admit his feelings to another boy.

Keeping his head low, Clyde could feel the uplifting sensation as the motorcycle kicked up from the ground and soared through the air. It landed softer than expected, and even Clyde was surprised. The sound of sirens was dimming and he struggled for a moment with the large bag at his side, sheltering it to his body with one hand and attempting to steer with the other. It was rather difficult actually and he was glad the heavy helmet on his head not only disguised his face from coppers, but also kept his swishy black hair from his eyes so he was able to watch the road better.
"Fucken' a*s wipes..."
Being the youthful (and often idiotic) age of nine-teen, Clyde was just an uprising criminal of his time, full of potential and adventure. It was interesting how people resorted to such crimes, but then again, when he started to think about Dazreth... His face flushed and he pulled over to the side of the road carefully, leaving the bag of suddenly heavy feeling items on his lap and removing his helmet with his other hand.
Sweat was brimming his forehead and he wiped at it with the back of his sleeve, shaking his hair free of it. All he could think about was Dazreth and he gazed up at the sky. It was mid-day, he had gone to the bank a few minutes before it actually closed. It was frustrating how the bank was only open certain hours each day. What was more frustrating was the fact that he hadn't even gotten a big stash before he had to run. Never stay too long and never hit up the same place, common sense for the every day criminal.
Peeking into the bag, he stared at the explosives. It had been a b***h for him to find a decent seller, and he hoped the stupid things were worth it.
This was his last resort.
Or his newest one really.
If he couldn't get rid of the problem physically, then why not blow it up?
For too long he had been thinking about the curly haired blond boy with the bright eyes and attractive personality. The whole shape of him wouldn't leave his mind, and Clyde felt ashamed to admit that many nights he had laid in bed thinking about the boy, and doing more than just simply thinking about him in general. The sleepless nights and sexual frustration was too much for him at this point, and he hadn't any other idea how to demolish his problem. Until now.
Mind reeling, Clyde parked his bike and opened the back seat, pulling out a backpack. The explosive had already been set up and was designated to go off in less than... he glanced at the timer. 10 more minutes.
Damn he had to go fast.
Carefully placing the bag of explosive in his backpack, he shouldered the clunky black thing and tucked his helmet under his arm. Clyde's heart was already pounding in his ears as he strolled closer to the convenience store. What would really make a bang was the small gas pumps located merely feet from the front door. And Clyde knew Dazreth was working. Of course he knew. God damnit, the male knew how many times Dazreth took a s**t in a week for christ sake. Stalking the boy was something he had not only grown fond of, but had also grown extremely good at.
Strolling into the little store, he suddenly felt self-conscious of himself. Was he dressed okay? Would Dazreth's last image of him be a good one? He glanced at the tight black skinny jeans he wore and the long-sleeved black under armor with the torn up and beaten up white shirt over, he thought he looked okay. His boots were big and heavy but the small amount of people didn't seem to take notice to him. Quickly, he snuck to the back of the shop. Clyde was distracted by customers, it would make it easier. Placing the backpack down in a corner, he pulled open a door and grabbed an Arizona.
He checked his watch.
Had to be fast.
Less than 7 minutes.
Quickly, he stomped up to the front desk and slammed it down on the table. He reached into his pocket and whipped out his wallet.
"A box of cloves too."
Flashing his I.D., Darzeth responded with a soft and yet sly smile.
"Of course Clyde. I know what you like by now."
6 minutes.
Clyde's heart skipped a beat and his stomach churned. His insides felt all mixed up and numb and he scoffed, pulling out a 20. Slapping that down on the wooden surface, he scowled at Dazreth who placed his elbows on the table and propped his chin in his hands. He looked concerned and pieces of his hair fell over his eyes. He looked so adorable in his tan slacks and light blue tee, darker blue apron hugging his body.
"Clyde... what's wrong? You look... hot. And annoyed."
5 minutes.
As Darzeth reached his hand up to Clyde, Clyde jumped back a step, eyes wide. What was he doing? Was he a moron? It seemed like time was slowing down ever so slightly and Clyde could feel his heart breaking in his chest. Cringing at the feeling, he instinctively reached up and gripped at his chest. Darzeth jumped and reached out for him.
"Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?"
Responding to his words, Clyde swiped the cigars and the Arizona, bolting out of the store.
4 minutes.
"Wait! Clyde!"
His words echoed after him and Clyde struggled with the hurt and anger in him, trying to push it into the depths of himself. How was it possible that he was still feeling for the boy? He would be dead in less than 3 minutes now, so why was it so frustrating?
Far enough away, Clyde turned on his heel next to his bike and stared at the running figure of Darzeth. Anger boiled inside of him and as Darzeth neared, winded and puny, Clyde gripped his wrist and screamed at him, dropping the bike helmet, Arizona, and smokes. A few people at the gas pumps stopped and watched the show.
"God damnit Darzeth! Get back in the f*****g store, I'm fine!"
Clyde watched Darzeth wince at the tight grip, Clyde's knuckles turning white. Squirming, the boy turned and pushed his shoulder toward Clyde, trying to make a bit of distance. His eyes were watering up.
"Clyde stop! Ow it hurts! You're hurting me!"
All of his anger dropped and Clyde's eyes widened. Quickly, he let go and couldn't help the tears pouring down his face at this point.
2 minutes.
"You're smothering me."
Clyde's voice was shakey and he cursed himself. All this time, all these months he had watched over Darzeth, trying to kill the little f****r, and now he was missing his greatest chance.
"What are you talking about?"
Darzeth's voice was strained and he rubbed at his wrist, looking ever so desperate.
"S**t!"
1 minute.
Reaching out, Clyde gripped at Darzeth's wrist once more, forcefully pulling him away from the gas pumps. People muttered to themselves and Clyde could hear the other male screaming at him angrily, surprisingly just going with him. Darzeth jumped to the side, pulling the smaller male with him, and landed in the closest bush. He hugged the boy to him as tight as he could, clenching his eyes shut.
There was a moment of heavy breathing and then the air exploded with heat.
The brightness shocked Clyde, even showing through his closed eye lids. A stunned moment of silence and the screams of people on the side, people who had been injured but not killed, started up.
And then the gas tanks started exploding, one by one, giant ear piercing bangs. A hunk of metal landed close to the two boys and Darzeth struggled in Clyde's arms, trying to pull away. The boy wouldn't stop squirming and finally, Clyde let his numb hands let go. He watched as Darzeth jumped to his feet, still standing in the bush, and shield his eyes as he tried to comprehend the unraveling scene in front of him. Tears were pouring from his eyes and he screamed, not a name or anything, just screamed. Clyde assumed he was simply horrified at the mess and he pulled the boy down by his leg.
Clyde flipped Darzeth on his back and straddled him, both of his palms digging into the dirt on both sides of the boys red and tear filled face, pinning a small chunk of his hair under his left palm. Anger once again had taken over him. That f****r. That stupid F****R had ruined his plans, once again! And it was perfect. It had been perfect until the little b***h talked to him and ruined everything.
"Stop making me love you!"
The words slipped from his mouth and he suddenly felt drained and tired, tongue dry. The boy under him stared up at him in surprise, probably still horrified with the state of his fathers gas station. Clyde continued.
"I can't get rid of you. I need you to stop. Just stop. I don't want to think of you anymore!"
His voice was hoarse, not really from screaming, but just from the pent up emotions inside of him. And with the fire sparkling off of Darzeth, everything seemed perfect. Clyde swooped down and kissed Darzeth as hard as he could, feeling the boy respond ever so slightly. And then Darzeth pushed at him and screamed. Clyde couldn't help the ever growing erection that he was pressing against Darzeth's stomach, he would have him. And they would be in love together. And live a life of crime. And everything would be perfect. Oh damn, Clyde wanted him so bad it hurt.
Tears were still rolling down Darzeth's face and he looked absolutely horrified, not terrified.
"You monster! How did you know? You did it, didn't you?! I loved you too you freak!"
Clyde's stomach knotted and he watched as the boy slapped away Clyde's left hand, freeing his hair and himself. Giving one hard shove, Clyde only moved enough for the boy to crawl out from under him and run.
Clyde sat in the bush, erection quickly dying.
Monster?
Freak?
The words slammed against him and slowly, he stood up. Darzeth was confronting the ambulance and police cars that had started to build around the fire and attempt to put it out, quickly attaching giant hoses to hydrants and running with stretchers, trying to pick up the broken mass of people.
Darzeth's finger was pointed at Clyde and slowly, he began walking toward his bike. Officers ran over, reaching in their holsters for their guns.
"Freeze!"
The all screamed, one after another, and Clyde just slowly sat on his bike, turning the key and revving the engine. He couldn't get rid of his problem.
He couldn't f*****g get rid of it.
The searing sensation of burning shot through his left shoulder blade.
The one he had managed to hold Darzeth down with.
The sound of gunfire was silent, he couldn't hear it over his own thoughts, but he could feel it. And quickly, his body started to slip away.

Author's Note

Reviews

[pia Z]

Ooooh! SEXY!

You know what's great about this? The way you worked in the idea that you can't just stomp around telling people who should love you, who shouldn't love you, who gets to be a part of your life, who doesn't, etc. I mean it's all good to have a big bad sexy love story where everyone's behaving badly and it all ends up okay as long as there's some hot and heavy at the end, but I love the fact that all Clyde had to do was be NICE to this kid and he would have totally scored! I think in your next piece you should forgo the descriptions of what people are wearing and replace it with descriptions of what the characters are doing; it's a stronger way to get the point across, and it lets your readers make their own conclusions about your characters. I love the image of the fire and gas pumps exploding too; love and fire are two of my favourite things! Thank you so much for sharing this piece with me!

[Quiana Shakia]

I liked it :) it was a good read and the title is catchy :)

[Princess LouLou]

Love it.

[joshua deathdealer]

This is an awesome story. I love it. Excellent work. I like the dubstep version of this song as well.

[.quan.011.]

Not really my type of story, but still good.

[WriteWiz99]

Great story, love the title!

[M Garcia]

Great write.