Title: He Tasted Like Chocolate

Rating: PG-13 for mild cursing

Disclaimer: Don't own it, not making money, yada yada yada.

Summary: It was a normal Wednesday afternoon for Freddy Jones and Zack Mooneyham. Or so they thought. (slash and one-shot)

A/N: I have no idea where this came from. It may have something to do with my incredible craving for one of those over-size bars of Hershey's dark chocolate. Yum.

It was a gray Wednesday afternoon in mid-April. Sixteen-year-old best friends Zack Mooneyham and Freddy Jones could be found in Freddy's room, pretending to do their homework. 'Pretending' being the key word there. Zack was sitting with his feet kicked up on Freddy's desk, eating a chocolate bar. His English homework had magically turned into a new song. Freddy was sprawled across the floor, drinking Coke and flipping through the latest issue of Rolling Stone.

"Man, this is bullshit. Why do we have to do homework?" Freddy threw his empty can across the room and made it into the trash as he asked this rhetorical question.

"Freddy," Zack started, looking up and raising his eyebrow, "I wouldn't exactly call reading Rolling Stone homework."

"Well—I…" Freddy sputtered. "It's the principle of the thing!"

"Oh really, and what would that principle be?" Zack asked, now looking back at his paper and scrawling some lyrics down. Freddy opened and shut his mouth a few times.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Zack said, not looking up.

"Fine, you win," Freddy said dramatically. "So anyway, how're things going with Summer?" he asked, raising and lowering his eyebrows suggestively. Zack gave him a look that plainly said, 'Will you please shut up about this? It's getting quite annoying.' Freddy, however, ignored that look and kept going.

"I'm going to take that silence as a 'we're doing things that I'd rather not talk about with you' silence," he commented. That got Zack to look up and throw his pen at Freddy.

"Will you quit it?" Zack asked, exasperated. "Summer and I are not fucking! We are not even dating. We're friends, and you know that. So just please shut the hell up!"

"The first step is admitting you have a problem," Freddy stated.

"How is dating Summer a problem?" Zack threw up his hands.

"So you are dating her!" Freddy yelled and pointed at him. "I caught you!"

"What?" Zack cried. "You're putting words into my mouth!"

"You just said it. You, Zack Mooneyham, are dating Summer Hathaway," Freddy argued.

"I AM NOT DATING SUMMER!" Zack yelled, standing up. Freddy followed his lead and stood up also.

"Oh really? Then who are you dating?" Freddy asked accusingly.

"No one! I am not dating anyone!" Zack exclaimed.

"Then who have all those songs been about?" Freddy questioned. Suddenly Zack looked nervous.

"Wha-What songs?" he asked.

"The new songs you've been giving Dewey almost every week! They're all love songs!" Freddy informed him. "Who's the girl?" Zack mumbled something under his breath.

"What?" Freddy asked, confused. What Zack had said sounded suspiciously like 'It's not a girl.'

"Nothing, Freddy," Zack sighed. "Just forget it."

"Come on, Zack Attack! I'm your best friend! You can tell me, I'll keep my mouth shut, I promise," Freddy pleaded.

"Spazzy, just… no. Can you leave me alone?" Zack whined.

"No!" Freddy exclaimed. He proceeded to pin Zack against the wall, arms on either side of Zack's head. "Tell me what's going on, Zack!"

"Fine," Zack finally conceded. He suddenly became very interested in the floor. "The songs… they're not about any girl," he whispered.

"Okay," Freddy nodded, "so they're about a guy."

"Yeah," Zack admitted.

"Then who's the guy?" Zack brought his head up and forced himself to look Freddy in the eye.


Suddenly they both became acutely aware of everything around them. The Foo Fighters new song was playing softly on the radio. A light drizzle had begun to patter on the window. Clinks of pans could be heard downstairs as Mrs. Jones started to make dinner. And then Freddy did it. He leaned in and kissed Zack.

He tasted like chocolate.