A/N: So yes, here's chapter three…duh. I know it's been a long time, but that was because of being so busy and then I had to take a long time to think about this. It's kinda similar to "Breaking the Habit" and I didn't want it to be the same, so I had to think about it a lot and come up with a way to make sure they're quite different. So I hope you all think they're different enough. And I'm sorry, I know Freddy having sex with scary older men is really creepy and gross, but think about it: I don't WANT it to be hot…because prostitution isn't SUPPOSED to be hot. So it should be gross. Not saying PROSTITUTES are gross, I have no problem, if that's what you want to do with your life, feel free. Just saying I don't want Freddy doing drugs and getting paid for sex to be something sexy. That's all. I'd also like to apologize for my terrible drug dealer sequence…contrary to what seems to be popular belief (judging by a few notes I got), I do NOT do drugs. I never have and never will. Therefore, I'm not sure exactly what a drug dealer talks/acts like, and I'm afraid I wrote it a bit too contrived and too movie-based. I didn't want it to be clichéd from what I've seen in movies, but that's all I had to base my dealer on, so yes, that's what you get. Heehee, sorry.

DISCLAIMER: Don't own School of Rock, any actors, any music, anything. Don't own Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, the quote I used, or Johnny Depp, GOD I wish I owned Johnny. Johnny Depp is THE SEX.

CLAIMER: I own Zack's snazzy goth/boho boy wardrobe, his poster, and Freddy's cellphone and pathetic excuse. Aaaaand…that's all for this chappie.

DEDICATION: pltzchen. Again. Cause I was rereading my reviews and remembering just how much she rocks my world. :D You always leave such amazing reviews. Tons of glompage for pltzchen!

FICLET!

"Hey, Freddy, wait up!"

Freddy tried to pretend he hadn't heard his name called and slammed his locker door shut, turning and walking as fast as he could down the hallway. Unfortunately luck wasn't on his side. Within seconds he felt a hand on his shoulder and Zack was tugging him to a stop.

"Freddy, didn't you hear me?"

"…no, I didn't," Freddy said, mentally kicking himself for not getting away. It's not that he didn't want to see Zack…he did. He wanted to see Zack more than anything. But Zack meant no drugs, and he needed drugs. So he was really caught in the middle of a dilemma: spend some much desired time with Zack or go off and get some much needed drugs. "Sorry, man."

Zack arched an eyebrow. "…you really didn't hear me?"

"NO! Zack, geez, man, you think I would leave you like that? That I'd hear you and not stick around?" Freddy felt guilty for lying, but even guiltier for wanting to leave Zack in the first place. Therefore, he was prepared to make up for it by spending time with Zack instead of buying drugs….he'd just have to find time for drugs later. And it wasn't as if it were a real chore to spend time with Zack anyway. Especially not when Zack was looking as good as he did that day…Freddy allowed his eyes a furtive sweep of Zack's body, from the black converse sneakers (one shoelace undone, as usual), the slightly formfitting black jeans and the skintight black shirt, long sleeves rolled up around his elbows. Zack's hair was much longer than it used to be and Freddy wondered how he hadn't noticed before. Long dark strands of hair hung into Zack's dark eyes and Freddy wanted to shove Zack up against the lockers and make out with him until they both passed out from lack of air. But…wait….Zack was saying something. Freddy shook his head; he had completely zoned out.

"No…of course not. Sorry, Freddy, I shouldn't have jumped to stupid conclusions like that." Zack smiled. "…can I make it up to you?" As he spoke, he tilted his head to one side, a strand of hair falling into his eyes and his lips curving in that sweet sexy smile. Immediately Freddy's mind filled once more with the mental image of Zack shoved up against the lockers and he forced it back quickly.

"Oh….I think we can come up with some way for you to do that," he said, voice sultry and teasing. Zack laughed.

"You have a one track mind, Jones, you know that?"

"Zack Mooneyham, you pervert! How dare you assume that I'm thinking sexual things!"

"You should just have the word 'sex' tattooed to your forehead, Freddy, everyone knows you're always thinking of it."

"Pffft," Freddy scoffed, "am not."

"Whatever," Zack said, grinning. "So…come home with me?"

"Why ZACKARY MOONEYHAM!" Freddy exclaimed, voice very scandalized. "Are you coming on to me?"

"In your dreams, Freddy." Zack laughed

"Pffft, whatever. I know you want my body."

"Freddy, more than half the kids in school want your body."

"…are you one of them?"

Zack laughed. "Come on, Freddy, let's get going."

Freddy noted (with some satisfaction) that Zack hadn't denied that he lusted after Freddy…though he hadn't exactly confirmed it either. He sighed. Guess I still have to work on figuring that one out. "Okay, but only if I get to choose the music for the ride home."

"Anything for you, sexy."

"You ARE coming on to me!"

"Whatever, Freddy."

"Do you deny it?"

"Freddy…" Zack sighed.

Without warning, Freddy grabbed hold of Zack, wrestling the brunette until he had Zack in a headlock. "Admit it!" He ordered. "Admit that you want me!"

"I plead the fifth," Zack managed to choke out, wide grin on his face.

"Admit it!"

"No!"

"Admit it!"

"NO!"

"ADMIT IT!"

"FINE!" Zack cried, still grinning. "Fine! I want you, I want you!" The last came in between giggles as Freddy poked mercilessly at Zack's waist, right where he knew the brunette was most ticklish.

"Pfff, I knew it all along." And Freddy let go of Zack, giving the brunette a slight shove away from him, and walked out into the parking lot. Zack joined him moments later, still trying to catch his breath from the tickling.

"That was really low, Freddy."

"Aahhh, you liked it."

"Whatever you say, Spazzy McGee."

"You know you've been gagging for it."

"Oh yes, Freddy, my every waking dream is for you to molest me in the hallway."

There was a pause. "I knew it," Freddy said, tone full of satisfaction. Zack sighed, shaking his head.

"Come on, Freddy, let's go."

"Your car or mine?"

"Okay, enough with the sexual overtones and innuendos already."

"There was nothing sexual intended, you dirty wanker, stop making everything out to be perverse!"

"ME?! YOU'RE the…oh, never mind, it's pointless to argue with you," Zack sighed. "And to answer you, your car. My car's broken; dad drove me in this morning."

"Oh, THAT must have been a jolly ride," Freddy said sarcastically, unlocking the car.

"You're telling me." Zack shut the car door with a little more force than he usually did. Silence fell and Freddy started the car, heading for Zack's house.

"He won't be home, will he?"

"No…he doesn't get home till about six…why?"

Freddy laughed, a bitter sound. "He hates me…I don't really relish the idea of being there when he gets home."

"Then you can leave before six," Zack said.
"I guess."

"Are you going to back out on me, Freddy?"

"Huh?"

"…you don't want to come over…do you." It was a statement, not a question, and Freddy could hear the sadness and pain in Zack's voice.

"No, Zack…that's not it, that's not it at all."

"Really, Freddy, it's kinda obvious…and it's okay. You don't have to stay if you don't want."

There was a long pause. Freddy turned into Zack's driveway and parked the car. The two sat there for a moment, then Zack climbed out. "Thanks for the ride, Freddy…see you tomorrow."

Freddy got out as well, shutting the door. "I'm coming in, you crazy fuck."

Zack looked like he wanted to smile but was too nervous to. "Really? Are you sure? Because you don't need to come if you don't want to."

"Zack…I WANT TO. This may come as some surprise to you," Freddy continued, "though it shouldn't after so many years…but you're my best friend…and I'm happiest when I'm with you."

Zack smiled. "I'm glad," he said softly. "Because I don't know that I could deal without you." There was a pause. "So…coming in?"

"Whatcha thinking about?"

Freddy stared up at Zack's ceiling. "…nothing." How much I wanna kiss you, he thought. How awkward this all is…how completely hot this is and how amazingly weird at the same time.

"Not uncomfortable, are you?" Zack stared at the ceiling as well. Neither boy seemed willing to look at the other. Both were lying on Zack's bed. Zack's television was dead opposite his bed, so the ideal place to watch from was (duh) the bed. Freddy had tried to claim it first and Zack had refused, saying that Freddy had to share since it was his bed. What happened next was a battle that raged a good half the movie in which each boy threw punches and kicked any available surface. There was even a bit of biting, though that came only from Freddy. In the end, neither boy had fully won. For a while, Freddy had parked his ass in Zack's lap, but it hadn't lasted long. Zack had complained non-stop that Freddy weighed too much, that he was blocking the television, etc. Freddy teased him for "bitching" and moved. For a while, Zack was curled up against Freddy, head resting on Freddy's shoulder, one leg thrown over Freddy's, more to piss the blonde off than anything else. He didn't realize that Freddy liked it more than he could say. Now that the movie was over, each boy was flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, unwilling to look the other in the eye.

"…no," Freddy said. His gaze was fixed on the poster on the ceiling. It was of Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman kissing in front of the Moulin Rouge. He smiled. Zack was such a hopeless romantic. The poster was on the ceiling because Zack was Moulin Rouge obsessed and because Zack's dad refused to let him put anything on the walls. Since the man didn't often go in Zack's room, he hadn't yet noticed the poster on the ceiling.

"Good."

"…you?"

"No." A few silent moments passed.

"What are you thinking about?" Freddy asked.

"How this poster is the one cool thing in this room," Zack said. "Well…other than my guitar…and you, of course."

Freddy laughed. "It is rather nice," he agreed. "Especially Ewan McGregor. He's hot."

Zack's laughter was surprised and delighted. "Is he, now? I didn't know you swung to that side of the ballroom, Freddy."

"Then there are a great many things you don't know about me, Zack my friend."

"Apparently so."

"Apparently so."

Another pause.

"So…would you ever swing to that side of the ballroom, Zack?"

"Only for you, baby."

"I knew it." Pause. "…Zack?"

"Mmm?"

"Guess what I'm thinking about."

"Something perverse. OW!" The latter came as Freddy elbowed Zack in the ribs as hard as he could.

"You deserved it. I'm not as perverse as you make me out to be!"

"Yes you are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Ohh, fine."

"Hahah, knew I'd win eventually."

"You didn't win. I just didn't feel like arguing anymore."

"Because you know it's true."

"Pfft, whatever."

"If it's not true, then prove it."

"Prove it?" Freddy turned to face Zack. "How?"

"See!" Zack was triumphant. "Can't do it, can you?"

"Well, if I'm so perverse, then how come I haven't made a pass at you since I've been here?"

"I don't know…" Zack stared into Freddy's eyes. "…why haven't you?"

Freddy felt his breath catch in his throat as he stared into Zack's eyes…and then, embarrassed at his rare show of bravado, Zack turned away and closed his eyes tight, silently cursing himself for making such a stupid comment. Now he'll think I want him and he'll never talk to me again…nice going, Mooneyham!

Staring at Zack, Freddy took a deep, shaky breath. Leaning forwards, he gently pressed his lips to the bare skin of Zack's throat. Shocked, Zack spun to face him and ended up cracking his head against Freddy's…hard. Both boys recoiled, eyes shut tight in pain. Before Zack could open his eyes, there was a rustling of fabric and he felt Freddy's breath warm against his throat.

"Don't move," Freddy whispered. "Please…just…please." Eyes still shut, Zack took a slow, shaking breath. And he felt Freddy's lips against his throat again. And even without any sort of encouragement, Freddy continued. He trailed kisses along Zack's throat, and the brunette let out a slow, shuddering breath. Slowly, he opened his eyes and turned ever so slightly to face Freddy. Freddy kissed his cheek, just off to one side of his mouth. Moving closer, the next kiss was right on the corner of Zack's lips, half on his mouth and half on his cheek. Trembling fingers pressed to Zack's chest, Freddy stared at Zack, an almost frightened look in his eyes. Zack stared back, positive that his face was almost a mirror of Freddy's own. Slowly, barely able to force himself to move, he placed shaking fingers over Freddy's own trembling hands, then moved his hands up, sliding over Freddy's arms and upwards until one hand was on either side of Freddy's face, shaking fingers gently pressed to Freddy's cheeks. That was all the invitation Freddy needed. Leaning down, Freddy slowly gently pressed his mouth against Zack's. And it was perfect. God damn it it was as perfect as he had always dreamed. Every single night of every fucking month all year that he had spent out on the street, every stranger he had let touch him and fuck him, none of it mattered anymore because now he was kissing Zack. And it was better than he had dreamed. It was nothing like the roughness of all of the men who used him. It was soft and gentle and beautiful, their mouths working together and fitting together so perfectly like the most beautiful puzzle and he was thinking in clichés and unable to stop. Fingers ran through long brown hair and it was softer than he had ever imagined. Zack pressed upwards, hungrily seeking more contact with Freddy and the kiss deepened and became wilder, hungrier. Zack's hands on Freddy's back were a constant pressure and he tugged roughly on Zack's hair and the brunette moved so perfectly beneath him, his hips pressing roughly upwards against Freddy's and Freddy couldn't even think straight but it didn't matter, because he was kissing Zack.

He pulled away, fully intending to try and talk to Zack about all of this, to stop and apologize, and instead he ended up pressing kisses willy-nilly everywhere on every inch of Zack's face. "I'm sorry," he whispered in between kisses. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Zack whispered, hands wrapped around Freddy's neck. "Don't be sorry."

"Tell me to stop," Freddy whispered, nipping Zack's earlobe gently. Zack let out a shaky moan and Freddy knew that if Zack didn't make him stop soon then he wouldn't be able to. "Tell me to stop," he whispered again, an order he didn't want Zack to give in to.

Zack's fingers slid through Freddy's belt loops and he tugged Freddy into him again, their hips rubbing harshly together and Freddy's eyes slid shut as he bit back a moan. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring into Zack's eyes. "Don't stop, Freddy," Zack whispered. "Never stop."

That was all the invitation Freddy needed to hear. In two seconds he was practically in Zack's lap, the two boys tangled together as they kissed. Freddy's fingers slid beneath Zack's shirt, teasing across Zack's stomach and there was a hitch in the brunette's breathing. Freddy's fingers caught the bottom of Zack's shirt and moved up, pulling the shirt up. "Off," he ordered. "You've got too much clothing on."

"Oh?" Zack asked breathlessly. "And how much is too much?"

"On you any amount of clothing is too much," Freddy replied. "People like you should be forced to walk around naked twenty-four hours a day. But then again…there really isn't anyone else quite like you." He stared at Zack, who was staring back at him, surprise etched on his face. Freddy smiled slightly. "Off," he repeated.

Zack smiled a small, breathless sort of smile. "…help me?"

"You bet." And then Freddy slowly peeled the skin-tight shirt away from Zack's perfect skin, tugging it up and off. When it was discarded on the floor, Freddy couldn't help but laugh at how messy Zack's hair was after his shirt had been tugged off. Zack smiled, flushing.

"Whaaaat?" he half whined, laughing at the same time. Freddy reached out and smoothed Zack's hair down.

"Your hair's a mess."

"You're a mess," Zack shot back. Freddy laughed.

"Believe me, I know." Then Freddy's gaze fixed on Zack's bare skin and, placing one hand flat-palmed against Zack's chest, he shoved the brunette back. Zack flopped back against his pillow, surprised. "You…are…so…fucking…gorgeous," Freddy said, fingers tracing lightly over Zack's skin. Zack flushed.

"Am not."

"Shut up, Zack, you so totally are."

"Am not."

"If you don't shut up, I'm going to find a way to make you."

"Is that a promise?"

And Freddy kissed Zack fiercely and with every ounce of passion he had, fingers trailing over bare skin, Zack no longer denying his own beauty as he caught a handful of blonde hair and tugged roughly. Freddy moaned into Zack's mouth. "Mmm…do it again."

"Haha…fucking masochist."

"You bet your ass." Freddy's fingers moved constantly, tracing patterns lightly across Zack's stomach as he nipped harshly at Zack's throat. Zack let out a breathy moan.

"Fuck…why didn't we do this sooner?" Zack managed, hands worrying along the waist of Freddy's pants, fiddling with the belt.

"…I never thought you'd be up for it," Freddy whispered, lips brushing against Zack's throat as he spoke.
"I'm not even justifying that perverse comment with a response," Zack said.

"Hey! Nothing perverse was meant!" Freddy exclaimed.

"Whatever, Freddy," Zack said, still struggling with Freddy's pants. Freddy was too indignant to notice.

"Why do I always come across as such a pervert?!"

"Freddy…it's you. Everything you say is perverse."

"Is not!"

"We are not even beginning this argument again," Zack sighed. "Not again."

"Then stop making me out to be such a perv…whoa!" Freddy had finally noticed what Zack was doing as suddenly Zack's hands were down his pants.

Zack giggled. "Freddy, you ARE a pervert!"

Freddy gasped. "ME?! Okay, let's rewind and reconsider this for a moment: you say I'm the perverted one, yet who's the one with his hands down the other's pants? Um, yeah, that'd be YOU!"

"Okay, fine, I'll move them."

"Whoa whoa whoa, let's not make any hasty decisions here!" Freddy reached back and placed his own hands over Zack's, keeping them right where they were: on his ass. Zack grinned.

"See? You like it."

"I wasn't denying that I do."

"Why are we even talking about this?" Zack asked. "There are much more interesting things we could be doing."

Freddy grinned. "Good point…where were we?"

Zack tightened his hold on Freddy's ass, fingers digging in a bit more than they probably should have and he grinned as Freddy bit back a gasp. "Somewhere around there, I think."

"Mmm…thanks for reminding me." And they were kissing again. It was about fifteen minutes later when, just when Freddy was getting around to getting Zack's pants off, there came a sharp knocking at the door.

"Zack?" It was Zack's father. Freddy shot up, rolling off Zack so fast that he rolled right off the bed and onto the floor.

"OW!"

"Zack? Who's in there?"

"Um, one minute dad," Zack called, fumbling for his shirt.
"Zack, I'm coming in." The door pushed open right as Zack finished doing up his pants. He immediately stood at attention, running one hand through his hair in an effort to neaten it up, and he wished his face weren't as flushed as he knew it must be. His father raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing, Zack? Who's here?"

"Me, Mr. Mooneyham," came Freddy's muffled voice from under the bed. Zack's dad immediately looked grouchier as he recognized Freddy's voice.

"Frederick." Even his voice sounded displeased. "What are you doing? Why are you under Zack's bed?"

From under the bed, Freddy struggled with his clothes. Putting my pants back on, he thought. And my shirt…and trying to get my raging hormones under control. Freddy's head popped up. "Looking for my cell phone," he said. "I dropped it." He disappeared from view again, then popped up once more, rising to his feet. "Found it." Fully clothed now, he held the phone up and waved it about. "No worries."

"Yeah," Zack said, pointing. "We…we were looking for his…" Zack's voice dropped as his father turned a disapproving gaze on him. "…cell phone," he finished meekly.

"Zack…why on earth is your shirt on inside out…and backwards?"

Zack looked down and mentally kicked himself as he saw the tag of his t-shirt sticking out. "Uhhh…." He looked up at his father. "…new fad?"

His father closed his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh, obviously cursing himself for having such a stupid pathetic excuse for a son. Opening his eyes, he turned his attention back on Zack, pretending that Freddy didn't exist. "Your mother will be home late tonight…I'd like you to start getting dinner ready."

"Sure…I'll be right down."

Satisfied, Mr. Mooneyham turned to leave, acknowledging Freddy with a stiff nod on his way out, shutting the door behind him. Neither boy moved. Neither spoke. The atmosphere had become awkward and uneasy and both knew that it would be nearly impossible to go back. Finally, Freddy broke the silence.

"Well…I'd better get going."

"…yeah," Zack said. There was a long silent pause.

"Well…bye."

"Freddy-" Zack began, but Freddy was climbing out the window and down the trailing ivy that grew up Zack's side of the house, the way he had always gotten in and out when they were younger. Zack stared at the spot where Freddy had been, completely at a loss for anything to do.

"So what'll it be today?"

Freddy shivered in the small dirty building. He hated coming here, hated these people, hated that he needed to do this shit. "What have you got for me?"

"That depends…you looking for the same old kick or something new?"

"Something new," Freddy said immediately. "Something different." After all, today had been a very different day and required something new.

"Okay…in that case, might I suggest…LSD."

Freddy pondered it for a moment. He wasn't very familiar with LSD, he had never done it. But he had hung out with people who did it. He tried to think of someone who had done LSD and thought immediately of Johnny Depp in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and nearly giggled aloud. That bathroom scene was the funniest in the movie. "With a bit of luck, his life was ruined forever. Always thinking that just behind some narrow door in all of his favorite bars, men in red woolen shirts are getting incredible kicks from things he'll never know." Freddy suppressed his snickers, knowing how crazy he would look if he started giggling for no reason, and made a mental note to watch that movie when he did the LSD. It would probably look pretty cool when he was tweaking out.

"….okay." Freddy handed over the cash.

"Here you go, man…enjoy."

"Thanks." And Freddy bolted, hating to be there for a moment longer than he had to.

Freddy sat in front of the TV, blanket pulled over his head and wrapped tightly around him like a veil, hands clenching it tightly just under his chin. Five cup of noodles were in front of him, all of them half eaten and growing cold. He stared at the TV, eyes wide and mouth agape as he stared in wonder. Johnny Depp was currently pulling a cardboard box over his head, trying to sleep. Shouting came from the bathroom where Benicio Del Toro was in a drug induced haze in the bathtub. As he shouted, Freddy shouted too, jumping in surprise and clenching the blanket tighter. "NOOO! Don't go in the Room of Doom!" he shouted at Johnny Depp, who of course paid no attention whatsoever. Not that Freddy cared. He merely started giggling over the term 'Room of Doom.'

The phone rang suddenly and Freddy jumped a foot, diving fully under the blanket and curling into a little ball. It rang again. Slowly, he poked his head out and stared at it. It rang. He reached out and poked it. It rang. Finally, he reached out and picked it up, cautiously lifting it to his ear. "………………………." He waited.

"…hello?" It was Zack.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?!"

"…Freddy?"

"…who are you and how do you know who I am?!"

"….it's ZACK!"

"Oh."

"Yeah…" There was an awkward pause as Zack shuffled his feet nervously and Freddy pulled his knees up, curled up half under the blanket as he stared at the screen, forgetting completely that he was on the phone. Finally, Zack cleared his throat. "I just wanted to call…to talk about…about…about what happened earlier…"

At that moment, Benicio Del Toro lunged out of the bathtub, diving at Johnny Depp and waving a hunting knife about. Freddy let out a high pitched shriek of a cackle. "DIE DIE, MOTHERFUCKUH!" He tossed the phone at the TV and it went dead.

Zack found himself listening to a dial tone. "…Freddy?" He stared at the receiver as if it would give him the answer to what just happened. "…what the fuck was that about?"

In his room, Freddy dove under the blanket again, curled up in a tight ball as he giggled insanely at the craziness of it all. "Die die motherfuckah," he giggled, and repeated the words over and over to himself until, about an hour later, he passed out cold.

tbc