A/N:  Okay, I hope you all like this, because it's seriously fucked up and I know that.  Okay.  Now that that's all out in the open, I really have no more to say about this.  I was listening to "Wrong Way" by Sublime and the idea for this fic came to me.  So enjoy.  ^______^   This is my first sex scene I've ever written fully and it's not too detailed, but I hope it's okay.  I repeat, it's my first sex scene, so please, go easy on me, okay?  Thanks.

Summary:  Freddy's after school job no longer pays for his drugs.  When he resorts to other methods of earning the cash, he begins to lose all control of his life as he follows a downward spiral of sex, money and substance abuse.  Is there anyone who can save him?  Slash.

Paring:  None now, but eventually this'll be Freddy/Zack.

Disclaimer:  I own none of the following:  Freddy, Zack, School of Rock, Sublime, "Wrong Way" (the song).

Claimer:  I own all of the following:  Freddy's house, his trash can, his purple belly shirt and skin tight jeans, his fantasies and any and all money he makes with this other method of cash earning.

WARNING:  Not all of the Sublime lyrics fit…most obviously because it's about a girl and it mentions tits and the like, but the line "don't be afraid with a quickness you get laid" is what really got me thinking about Freddy.  So yeah.  Deal with it.

~*~

Annie's 12 years old in two more she'll be a whore
Nobody ever told her it's the wrong way
Don't be afraid with the quickness you get laid
for your family gets paid
It's the wrong way I gave her all that I had to give
I'm gonna make it hard to live
Big salty tears running down her chin
And it ruins up her make up
A cigarette pressed between her lips

But I'm staring at her tits
It's the wrong way
Strong if I can but I am only a man
So I take her to the can
The only family she ever had
Was her 7 horny brothers and her drunk-ass dad
He needed money so he put her on the street

Everything was going fine till the day that she met me
Happy are you sad, wanna shoot your dad
I'll do anything i can it's the wrong way
We talked all night and tried to make it right
Believe me shit was tight
It was the wrong way
So run away if you don't wanna stay
Cause I ain't here to make you
It's up to you what you really wanna do
Spend some time in America
Dub style so we ran away
And I'm sorry when I say that to this very day
It was the wrong way
She took a hike it don't matter it I like it or not
Cause she only wants the wrong way

I gave her all that I had to give
But she still wouldn't take it, oh no.
Her two brown eyes are leaking like a sieve,
And it still ruins her makeup
I never wanted

~Wrong Way by Sublime

Freddy took a long drag on his cigarette, staring pensively off into nothing.  The sky was absolutely full of gleaming stars.  Their brightness burned Freddy's eyes, taunting him with a brilliance he believed he would never know.  His eyes slowly slid away from the stars, gliding over the trees in front of him and down towards the much uglier vision of the street near him.  It was near two in the morning and he hadn't seen a car in half an hour.  Pretty soon he would have to turn in.

            He thought wrong.  A car turned down the road and immediately began to slow.  A man in his mid thirties sat inside the car, obviously giving Freddy the old once-over.  Freddy let his breath out, exhaling smoke coolly as he stared at the car, unfazed.  Dropping the cigarette to the sidewalk, he ground the butt out under his heel and ran a hand through his stylishly-messy blonde hair before sauntering over to where the car was now parked, one hand tugging briefly at the seat of his skin-tight jeans.  The man lowered the passenger side window immediately and Freddy leaned over, arms folded across the open window.  "Hey, baby," Freddy said, voice low and sultry. 

            "Hey there," the man said, smiling.  He allowed his eyes to trace over as much of Freddy's body as he could see.  He took in Freddy's thin yet muscular arms and the way his pale purple shirt fit him like a glove, accentuating his finely toned body.  The shirt cut off mid chest, exposing a fit tanned tummy sporting a gold belly-button ring.  He liked what he saw, and the smile grew.  He met Freddy's gaze again.  "How much?"

            Freddy paused as if thinking about it.  "How long you want?" he asked.

            "….let's say…an hour and a half?" the man responded.

            "Okay then….a hundred-fifty."

            The man nodded.  "Fine….jump in."  He reached over and unlocked the passenger side door and Freddy pulled it open, sliding into the car with ease and pulling the door shut behind him.

            Moments later, the man pulled into an abandoned state park.  He parked the car in a grove of fully blooming trees, a spot where the singular car wouldn't easily be seen.  The man undid his seatbelt and Freddy followed suit.  There was a pause.  Freddy glanced up at the man from underneath long lashes, smiling coyly.

            "Well," he said, leaning towards the man, "Only an hour and a half, huh?  Well then," He climbed over the stick shift and into the man's lap.  "I guess we'd better get started then…"  He straddled the man's hips, hands sliding up around the older man's neck.  "...don't you agree?"

            The man smirked.  "I should say so."  He wrapped his hands around Freddy's waist, pulling him closer.  With their faces less than an inch apart, the man whispered "what do you do?"

            There was a pause, and Freddy ran his hand through the man's hair.  "….everything."

            The man had only the briefest of seconds to smile before Freddy leaned forward and pressed their lips firmly together.  The man slid his hands underneath Freddy's shirt and tugged it up, wanting more even as their tongues danced together and Freddy stroked his chest suggestively.  Pulling back, Freddy complied, pulling the shirt up and off, revealing a nicer body than the man had imagined.  He greedily ran his hands down the now exposed skin, leaning forward to press kisses to Freddy's chest.  Freddy let his head fall to one side, eyes sliding shut as he let out a sigh of pleasure.  Inwardly, however, he was swallowing down his disgust. 

            "Here," the man whispered against Freddy's bare skin, "why don't we move to the back seat?  Lots more room to….get acquainted."

            Forcing a smile, Freddy complied.  The seat reclined, it turned out, and soon he was lying flat on his back as the man crouched above him, rough hands running over Freddy's youthful body.  He was able to block out most things, until….

            With a low ripping sort of sound, he felt the man undo the zipper on his tight jeans.

            "How the fuck d'you get these things off?" the man muttered through his laughter.  "D'you have to grease your legs?"

            "Not quite," Freddy answered, silently hating the man.  Laughing, the older man hooked his fingertips under the waist of Freddy's jeans and slowly peeled them down and off, letting out a noise of utmost satisfaction when he noted that Freddy wasn't wearing any underwear.  Well, how the fuck could I?  Freddy thought.  Anything else wouldn't fit into those fucking pants. 

            It had been hard when he first started, to get himself anywhere close to being aroused.  The men didn't generally care.  They wanted nothing more than their own pleasure, and when they had taken that, they were done with him.  But his mentor, the boy who got him started doing this, had advised him to find a way to get himself hard.

            "Some men, yeah, some don't care," he said, when Freddy had protested that it hadn't stopped any of them from fucking him so far.  "I guess a lot of them don't.  But it's a blow to their fucking egos, ya know?  Better to get yourself off somehow.  Then they think it's them and they'll enjoy themselves more….sometimes they'll even give you a bonus…ya know what I'm sayin?"

            Freddy knew exactly what the boy had been saying.  A better fuck meant more money, and more money meant more drugs.  That settled the matter then and there.  "But how do I-" he began, and flushed.  He still wasn't used to this whole sex thing.  His first time had been with a man he didn't know…not exactly how he wanted his first time to be, but hey, if it was the price he had to pay for a high, so be it.  Still, he couldn't quite bring himself to discuss sex outright.

            The boy took a long drag of his cigarette.  "You've jerked off before, haven't ya?"  Freddy flushed, looking away, and the boy laughed, knowing that was the only answer he would get.  Still, it was answer enough.  "Yeah, so ya know all about fantasies.  That's all it takes.  Fantasize.  Come up with something so hot that you can't help but get it up.  Think of someone else who you'd rather be fucking…pretend you're with that person.  Works like a charm."  The boy had thrown his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with one foot, and it was then that Freddy caught the bitter look on his face.  It was then that Freddy realized that this boy liked it no better than he did.  It was, however, a way of life.  It was what had to be done if the drugs were to be bought.  And to obtain the short escape from his life that only drugs could bring…for that Freddy was willing to sacrifice almost anything.  Including his dignity.

            Freddy succumbed once again to the old fantasy…the first fantasy.  Dark brown hair falling into eyes of chocolate.  A smile so pure and innocent that it broke his heart.  A smile just for him, only for him.  He pretended that the hands on his body belonged to that smile, to those chocolate eyes.  And it worked like a charm. 

            The man made another appreciative noise as he eyed Freddy's erection.  He ran his thumb down the hard shaft and Freddy let out a little gasp.  In the pit of his stomach he felt disgust, but he pushed it aside, visualizing the other in front of him.

            "Roll over," the man commanded, and Freddy complied.  He knelt on the smooth leather of the seat, propping himself up on his elbows.  He clenched his eyes shut tight as he heard the sound of a zipper being undone, trying to shut the sound out of his head, trying to shut out everything around him and concentrate on, as clichéd as it sounded, his "Happy Place."  He could feel the man behind him, positioning himself, and Freddy took a deep breath, steeling himself up for what he knew was about to come.  The man's hands were on his hips and then he stifled a gasp as the man thrust into him, roughly and without warning.  He bit his lip hard to hold back any further sound, but couldn't hold back a groan as the man reached beneath him and began jerking him off in time with the thrusts.  He forced nice images before his eyes…images of dark hair and chocolate eyes and soft hands, hands that would caress him and a body that would do the same things to him, only nicer and softer and much much gentler.

            The man began thrusting harder as he reached his climax, but Freddy barely even noticed.  He imaged the other in front of him, kissing him and stroking him and- dare he wish for it- loving him, and he lost himself entirely to his fantasies and the feeling of utter bliss of the man's hands on him, stroking him to a climax.  He bit his lip hard as he came, biting back the cry that struggled to escape his lips, the name that tried to fight it's way free.  The man climaxed a second after him and let out a long sigh, flopping to his back on the seat next to Freddy.  Freddy collapsed to his stomach, head resting on his folded arms.  The face of his fantasy smiled gently, one hand reaching out to stroke his cheek before the vision faded and Freddy was brought back to harsh reality to see that the hand on his cheek belonged to the cursed older man.

            "Get yourself dressed," the man said.  "I'll drop you off where I got you."

            Where I got you?  Sounds like I'm a fucking item on a grocery list, Freddy thought ruefully.  But he did as he was told.

            About twenty minutes later, they were back where they'd begun: parked on the side of Main Street.  Freddy looked expectantly at the man, who smiled and pulled out his wallet.

            "It's been fun," he said, handing over a wad of bills.  Freddy leafed through them quickly and noticed that there was an extra fifty tossed in.  Two hundred, he thought, shocked.  Score!  He smiled back, flirtatious once again.

            "Sure has," he responded, sliding out of the car.  He leaned in the man's open car window and kissed him, long and lingering.  As he pulled away, Freddy sucked languidly on the man's lower lip.  Pulling back, he smiled at the man once more.  "I'm on this street most nights," he said, "so if you're ever looking for another go…you know where to find me."

            "Sure do," the man said, smiling back.  Freddy stuck the money in the back pocket of his jeans and, tossing one last smile to the man, turned and sauntered off, shaking his hips forcefully from side to side, knowing the man must be practically drooling.  He heard the sounds of the car pulling away just as he reached to door of his house.  He turned the handle and let out a long stream of curses.  Fucking thing's locked.  Sighing, Freddy walked to the side of the house and began the laborious work of climbing up to his window, assisted by a none-too-steady trash can.  He slid into his room and managed to trip over a pile of books on the floor and nearly fall on his face.  Sighing, Freddy straightened up and walked the rest of the way across the room, fishing the money out of his back pocket before flopping onto his back on the bed.  He would like to shower, to wash the sweat and cum of the other man off of his body, but it's too late- or should he say early- for that.  Instead he stared at his two hundred dollars, but his happiness faded fast.  He cast the money aside, shutting his eyes tight against the burning hotness of tears as he thought of all that had passed and of the face he had envisioned, the face that only came to him now in his dreams, never in reality.  Of the name that he had bitten so hard on his lip to keep from spilling forth.

            "Zack."  He whispered the name to the silent night, a balmy night outside but frigid cold to him, devoid of any warmth he wanted.  Rolling over to his stomach, Freddy tried to fall asleep to no avail as he attempted with all his might to focus on his aching body and ignore the aching of his broken heart.