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[Movie-verse: School Of Rock] [Freddy/Zack] [PG]
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“Freddy! Freddy, what are you *doing*?” Zack wrenched his wrist out of Freddy’s tight grip, brow furrowed in confusion. The rain poured down, heavily, drenching them both, but Freddy didn’t seem to notice as he stared blankly at Zack, his chest heaving. Zack watched him apprehensively, and reached out to touch his shoulder. “Hey, man, look…”
Freddy jerked back like he’d been burnt, and Zack pulled away, finding himself beginning to feel the slightest hint of annoyance. Freddy jammed his hands into his jean pockets, and rivulets of water streamed down his face as he glanced at the floor, his blond hair wet and glinting in the soft sunlight.
“I’m quitting,” Freddy said, at length, his voice hard and vacant, and Zack stared, anger evaporating completely, turning into something akin to surprise.
“What-what are you talking about?” this wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. Zack tried to catch Freddy’s eyes, but the drummer - ex-drummer? - wouldn’t let him. “Quitting? When?”
Freddy shrugged, still avoiding the sharp pierce of Zack’s probing gaze. “Today’s my last.”
Zack felt his breath catch, and he blinked. “why didn't you tell me?” he yelled at last, the fierce hum-thud-slam of his furious heartbeat thrumming ceaselessly in his ears. He’d never known emotion like this - he was always so calm, so placid. “Why didn’t you say something before?!”
Freddy shook Zack’s hands off his collar, wincing as he felt a bruise forming where Zack had slammed him against the wall. “It’s not my choice, all right?” Freddy’s chest tightened - he’d never wanted to leave.
“Then whose, Freddy?” Zack clenched his hands into fists by his side. He wanted to understand. Why was he so mad? “Why are you doing this to us?” his jaw tensed.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Freddy snapped, at last, and when he raised his eyes to meet Zack’s, the world tilted and collapsed, and Zack reached to grab Freddy’s fingers, slick with rain and cold to the bone. “Dewey knows.”
“What did he say?” Zack’s voice trembled, even when his grip didn’t, and Freddy didn’t push him away.
Freddy shrugged, intently studying their interlinked hands. “My mom won’t take no for an answer,” his voice was grim, and when Zack tried to find a semblance of the Freddy he’d once known, there wasn’t.
“You will come ‘round?” Zack could hear the desperation in his own voice, and the pain in Freddy’s when he replied.
“I don’t know that I can.” And then it fell into place. The moving vans that’d been coming and going, the busy phone lines at Freddy’s place, the trademark aloofness that Zack had watched Freddy put back up in place, after painstakingly breaking it down.
“Were you going to tell me at all?” Zack choked on the words, and the rain was cold, so cold on his skin, and he tingled all over, skin pricking with disbelief. It was no good to fight, he realized, his whole life it never had been. He’d never known how. And he never would learn.
A horn sounded, and Zack didn’t need to turn to see who it was. “I’m sorry,” Freddy whispered again, and Zack shuddered at the warmth of breath against his lips. Then they were kissing, Freddy’s hand steady and tight in Zack’s hair, their lips clumsy, but tender, pent up emption spilling into their brief moment of closeness, of hope and a future now broken forever, and a teasing hopeless glance at what could-have-been.
Freddy’s eyes were shut, and when he opened his mouth to greet Zack’s, the salty tang of tears surprised them both, and Zack brought his hand to Freddy’s face, stroking his cheek with a thumb, memorizing the moment to make it last as long as it could.
Zack pulled away, at last, and he let his hand linger on Freddy’s skin as he said, “I’m sorry too, Freddy Jones.”
Zack felt drained, and his anger had long receeded to the back of his mind, forgotten like a distant childhood memory. He wondered if Freddy would fade into that, too, a flavor of something wonderfully forbidden, long lost.
A last flash of eyes, the softest touch of skin on skin, and then Freddy disappeared into the shower of mist and thunder; Zack heard the car drive away. The wind howled, and the creaking signboard above Zack’s head made him look up. ‘The School of Rock’ was no more. Freddy was gone. Dewey appeared, then, and his arm rested heavily around Zack’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort.
Zack didn’t smile, only looked back out into the distance, and wondered why he’d lost the urge to cry.
-fin-
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“Freddy! Freddy, what are you *doing*?” Zack wrenched his wrist out of Freddy’s tight grip, brow furrowed in confusion. The rain poured down, heavily, drenching them both, but Freddy didn’t seem to notice as he stared blankly at Zack, his chest heaving. Zack watched him apprehensively, and reached out to touch his shoulder. “Hey, man, look…”
Freddy jerked back like he’d been burnt, and Zack pulled away, finding himself beginning to feel the slightest hint of annoyance. Freddy jammed his hands into his jean pockets, and rivulets of water streamed down his face as he glanced at the floor, his blond hair wet and glinting in the soft sunlight.
“I’m quitting,” Freddy said, at length, his voice hard and vacant, and Zack stared, anger evaporating completely, turning into something akin to surprise.
“What-what are you talking about?” this wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. Zack tried to catch Freddy’s eyes, but the drummer - ex-drummer? - wouldn’t let him. “Quitting? When?”
Freddy shrugged, still avoiding the sharp pierce of Zack’s probing gaze. “Today’s my last.”
Zack felt his breath catch, and he blinked. “why didn't you tell me?” he yelled at last, the fierce hum-thud-slam of his furious heartbeat thrumming ceaselessly in his ears. He’d never known emotion like this - he was always so calm, so placid. “Why didn’t you say something before?!”
Freddy shook Zack’s hands off his collar, wincing as he felt a bruise forming where Zack had slammed him against the wall. “It’s not my choice, all right?” Freddy’s chest tightened - he’d never wanted to leave.
“Then whose, Freddy?” Zack clenched his hands into fists by his side. He wanted to understand. Why was he so mad? “Why are you doing this to us?” his jaw tensed.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Freddy snapped, at last, and when he raised his eyes to meet Zack’s, the world tilted and collapsed, and Zack reached to grab Freddy’s fingers, slick with rain and cold to the bone. “Dewey knows.”
“What did he say?” Zack’s voice trembled, even when his grip didn’t, and Freddy didn’t push him away.
Freddy shrugged, intently studying their interlinked hands. “My mom won’t take no for an answer,” his voice was grim, and when Zack tried to find a semblance of the Freddy he’d once known, there wasn’t.
“You will come ‘round?” Zack could hear the desperation in his own voice, and the pain in Freddy’s when he replied.
“I don’t know that I can.” And then it fell into place. The moving vans that’d been coming and going, the busy phone lines at Freddy’s place, the trademark aloofness that Zack had watched Freddy put back up in place, after painstakingly breaking it down.
“Were you going to tell me at all?” Zack choked on the words, and the rain was cold, so cold on his skin, and he tingled all over, skin pricking with disbelief. It was no good to fight, he realized, his whole life it never had been. He’d never known how. And he never would learn.
A horn sounded, and Zack didn’t need to turn to see who it was. “I’m sorry,” Freddy whispered again, and Zack shuddered at the warmth of breath against his lips. Then they were kissing, Freddy’s hand steady and tight in Zack’s hair, their lips clumsy, but tender, pent up emption spilling into their brief moment of closeness, of hope and a future now broken forever, and a teasing hopeless glance at what could-have-been.
Freddy’s eyes were shut, and when he opened his mouth to greet Zack’s, the salty tang of tears surprised them both, and Zack brought his hand to Freddy’s face, stroking his cheek with a thumb, memorizing the moment to make it last as long as it could.
Zack pulled away, at last, and he let his hand linger on Freddy’s skin as he said, “I’m sorry too, Freddy Jones.”
Zack felt drained, and his anger had long receeded to the back of his mind, forgotten like a distant childhood memory. He wondered if Freddy would fade into that, too, a flavor of something wonderfully forbidden, long lost.
A last flash of eyes, the softest touch of skin on skin, and then Freddy disappeared into the shower of mist and thunder; Zack heard the car drive away. The wind howled, and the creaking signboard above Zack’s head made him look up. ‘The School of Rock’ was no more. Freddy was gone. Dewey appeared, then, and his arm rested heavily around Zack’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort.
Zack didn’t smile, only looked back out into the distance, and wondered why he’d lost the urge to cry.
-fin-