Title: Diamond Sky

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Freddy/Zack (is there any other?)

Summary: Zack is cold, Freddy warms him, and Zack is forced to consider the implications of his feelings, and the way he really feels about Freddy.

Warnings: slash

Word Count: 1318

Author Notes: My first School of Rock fic! I take constructive criticism, but please, no flames. And I can tell the difference. If you don't like something, tell me why. Don't just say "it sux liek OMG!!!!!!!!11" Please don't make the author cry.

Dedication: To Nuwanda for her amazing work in the Freddy/Zack realm. And to Michelle because she got really excited when she found out I was writing this.

Enjoy!

Diamond Sky

Zack Mooneyham felt solace in the night, as her quiet darkness hid, and her shadowy silence held close. The infinite depths of the night asked for nothing from him, embraced him freely in the reach of her moonlight. He wasn't expected to be Zack, the musician, or Zack, the student, or even Zack, the friend. He was just Zack. And that was enough.

In the night, he could be himself. With the protective cover of shadows, and the comforting whispered words of the wind, he could say whatever, do whatever, be whatever he needed to be.

He did not need to worry that the sky would pass judgment. The moon cast no ruling, and the wind kept his secrets silent. The stars would continue to smile on him no matter what he told them.

So, into the hours of darkness, he would let go of his pain. Into the night, he would tell what he had told no one.

This was why, long past when the clock had struck twelve, the lone figure, curled up and hunched over, was out on his front yard. Dark hair fell over darker eyes, which stared into nothing and everything all at once, and though he wore only a white undershirt and boxers, he did not feel the chill of the wind.

He had felt as though he was going to burst, as though he was not sure which way was up. But he did not speak his words of worry. Tonight, the silence was heavy and soft, obliterating and yet comfortable. A part of him wished to yell out, to end the crushing silence.

But another part of him, a bigger part of him, realized that the peace of this particular night was so rare, so rare, that he could not, with all the riches in the world, afford to have ended it.

He felt as though he had entered some sort of fairy world, cloaked in darkness and silence, with diamonds in the sky. This world was much different from the hectic life he knew. And he reveled in it.

That was when it began to rain.

Rain always seemed to start suddenly. For a moment the night would be silent, but in the next there would be a patter on the rooftops and the trees, and the night would drum a rhythm onto sleeping houses.

It took bare seconds for Zack to become completely soaked, but he didn't mind. He liked the feeling of the rain tracing patterns down his face, of the heaviness of his clothes, and the way his hair clung to his neck.

He turned his face up, allowing the rain to wash against his lips, his eyelids, his cheeks. He smiled, and the sky smiled back, and he was at peace.

"Hey," a voice murmured behind him, "What are you doing?" There was a pause. "Looks boring."

If Zack had not recognized the sound of the voice behind him, he would have known beyond a doubt who it was at this point. Only Freddy Jones could take in the picture of Zack Mooneyham, child prodigy, sitting sopping wet in just a sheer white shirt and boxers in the rain and say it looked boring.

Zack turned to face Freddy, and gesturing at the spot next to him, smiled. "Sit with me?"

Freddy shrugged and sat. And Zack was impressed that Freddy would come out in the middle of the night in jeans and a tee shirt, and sit in the mud with his best friend even it was raining.

Now, pushed out of his thoughts, and unable to slip back into them, Zack began to feel cold. Thoughts could distract him from physical discomfort, but when he returned to reality, he could suddenly feel the cold drifting towards him, and around him.

He held back a shiver, and pulled his arms around himself. Freddy, noticing his movements, turned to smile at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Zack clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering, "Just a bit cold." A shiver overtook him, before he had time to even think to stop it. He felt Freddy's rumbling laugh next to him.

"Give me your hand."

"What?"

Freddy grinned, "You're cold, and I'm warm. Give me your hand."

Zack paused a moment, unclenched then clenched his jaw, than, decision made, offered up his numb fingers. "Jesus," Freddy yelped, upon touching Zack's hand, "How'd you get so fucking cold?"

Zack's jaw felt like it was going to shatter, it was clenched so tight. "How'd you get so fucking warm?"

Freddy laughed.

He held Zack's hand gently, and rolled it between his. There was silence as Zack tried without result to ignore the way sparks were shooting up and down his arm.

His hand was warmed, and so, without ceremony, he pulled it from Freddy's grasp, and shoved his numb one in the blonde's warm grasp.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Freddy asked as he worked at the icy hand.

"Mmm," Zack answered distractedly, "Thinking."

"In the middle of the night? In your boxers? In the bloody rain?" Freddy looked up at him, but didn't cease his ministrations.

Zack shrugged self-consciously. "It wasn't raining when I came out here. I couldn't sleep. Why'd you come out here, anyway?"

"I saw you sitting out here. You looked all white. I thought you were an angel. Imagine my disappointment."

Zack laughed. There was a comfortable silence broken only by the rain drops, and the chattering of Zack's teeth, and then…

"Oh bother."

Freddy looked up. "What is it?"

". . .My other hand went numb again."

Though Zack couldn't see it, he knew that the other boy was smiling. "Well," Freddy said, after a momentary pause, "I guess that's it then."

Zack knew what was coming. They would have to go home before Zack caught pneumonia. But he didn't want to leave. Didn't want Freddy to leave. Didn't want to lose Freddy's warmth—not just yet.

It was nice, somehow, to feel Freddy's warmth fight the night's cold. It was nice to feel Freddy's warmth at all. And, in this fairy land, anything was possible.

He was shocked, to say the least, when Freddy pushed him down and climbed on top of him.

At first Zack was too startled too move. Or, at least, that was what he told himself. "What," he asked, as he regained power over his vocal chords, "Are you doing?"

"Warming you up properly," Freddy said, and for some reason, the other boy's voice sounded deeper, rougher, than usual. Zack felt it rumble against his chest.

And Zack was warm. He was warm because—because of the weight of Freddy's body, and the way it shielded him from the rain. And yet it was more than that. He couldn't find the right words.

He was warmed by something else, something deeper. He was warmed by the way their bodies molded together. He was warmed by the way Freddy held himself slightly off of Zack, as though afraid he would hurt the other boy. He was warmed in the way Freddy's breath tickled at his ear, by the heartbeat aligned with his.

Freddy was, Zack thought drowsily, much larger then he would have expected. He covered all of Zack and then some. Or maybe that just meant that Zack was smaller than he thought.

And, suddenly, he understood. He was warm because this was Freddy. Only because it was Freddy. He was warm because it was Freddy who was warming him, Freddy lying on top of him.

And that scared him.

With quick, jolting movement, he pushed Freddy off of him. He didn't think, he just ran.

And, alone in his bedroom, he peeled of his soaked clothes and changed. But in dry clothes, under comforters in a heated house, he wasn't nearly so warm as he had been, outside, in the rain, with Freddy.