The A-Z Club

Summary: It's Alfred's first time in detention. It's certainly not the same for Arthur. High School AU

Warnings: swearing/smoking/mischief

Alfred F Jones did not get detention. He was immune to it, he did not get it. He just didn't. Of course, this was the exception. He'd been caught-out. And now he was stuck in a library after school for two and a half hours. His teachers were disappointed, his parents were mad. Worst of all he was missing practice and letting down the team. When he got to the library, it was abandoned, and looked like exactly the type of place that would house spooky ghosts. He sat down and put his backpack on the chair next to him, staying vigilant. Fortunately, he wasn't alone for long.

The teacher who was watching him during detention, vice-Prinicpal himself who a lot of the guys liked to liken to Darth Vader, but who Alfred had never had a problem with, strode in, red-faced and scowling, like this was the last place he wanted to be.

"Jones." He said, "Not the type of person I expect to see here. Your first time?" He checked his watch.

"And last, sir." Alfred said, smiling brightly. It was the smile he reserved for teachers, his parents, and people he met for the first time. The balding vice-principal nodded, and marked Alfred as present and on time on his detention clipboard.

"Good."the Vice-principal looked down at his list, rolling his eyes as he looked at the second and last name on the list. "Where is Kirkland?"

"Who, sir?" Alfred said.

"No. I don't expect you two to run in the same social circles." Phillips said. "I'll have to mark him as absent."

"Who's absent?" A voice that Alfred didn't recognise said, in a loud stage whisper. Phillips turned to his side.

"Sit down, Kirkland." Phillips said.

Kirkland, a skinny blond in a long dark green coat strode past Phillips and sat at the table behind Alfred, leaning back in the chair and slamming his boot-covered feet onto the desk.

"You're late, Kirkland."

"Not really." he said, checking the clock on the wall behind him. "You were just early."

Phillips inhaled sharply, but gritted his teeth. He wasn't in the mood.

"I will be in my office." Phillips pointed across the hall. "You will not talk. Or move. You will sit in silence. This is a punishment, though it doesn't seem to work for you, Kirkland, does it? This is my time you're wasting. I'll come get you both when it's time to go."

And with that he left. As soon as he'd entered his office, Kirkland moved, putting his feet back on the floor. Alfred was staring at him, and he didn't realise until Kirkland's huge eyebrows furrowed together in a glare and he snapped

"Can I help you?"

"I'm Alfred."

"That's not what I asked." Kirkland said. He was twisting the button of his jacket around in circles, not looking at Alfred at all.

"What's your name?" Alfred asked.

"What's it to you?" He said, "Just shut up and...do whatever it is you do."

"I can't believe I'm missing practice for this." Alfred said. "Football practice. I mean the real kind of football not soccer."

"Excuse you?" Kirkland said, sitting forward now and shrugging his heavy coat off. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt over a longer sleeved white t-shirt, the black with a band or a brand that Alfred didn't know scrawled across it. Alfred smiled his patented smile.

"You're British, right? The Queen and scones and soccer. Britain." Alfred said. Kirkland rolled his eyes - green - Alfred noticed, bright green, not muted or brownish-hazel, but green. Alfred looked away, grinning. Kirkland leant back in his seat, deciding, apparently, not to answer, and started swinging back on his chair. Alfred looked at the t-shirt again, and he was looking at the t-shirt, and definitely not at Kirkland's shoulders and arms, which weren't as skinny as he first thought, but actually lightly muscled. Nothing to match his own, of course, Alfred smirked.

"What the fuck are you smirking at?"

"Nothing." Alfred said. "So, like I said, I'm missing important practice to be here. What are you missing?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I cleared my busy social schedule to be here. Phillips loves my company." Kirkland said, digging into his pockets as he spoke. When he stopped he craned his neck to peer into Phillips's office, where the vice principal was typing away either oblivious or uncaring.

He took out a pack of cigarettes and stuck one in his mouth.

"You can't smoke in here."

"Do you want one?" Kirkland mumbled, as he lit it.

"You can't - he'll give you another detention." Alfred said.

Kirkland snorted, "You really don't know who I am, do you?"

"Am I supposed to?"

Kirkland laughed and continued to smoke. Alfred tried to grab the cigarette out of his mouth, but missed and nearly clattered out of his chair. He stood up.

"Just put it out." Alfred said. "You could get us both in trouble."

"So what?"

"So I care!"

"I don't." Kirkland stood up, too, flicking ash on top of a pile of books.

Alfred made a lunge for him, grabbing onto his sleeve. Kirkland pulled away violently.

"Don't fucking touch me!" He shouted. Alfred stepped back.

"Just please put it out -"

Kirkland's eyes narrowed, then he smiled, his angry breathing slowed.

"All you had to do is say please." And he put the cigarette out on the desk.

"Thank you." Alfred said.

"What is all this noise? Why are you out of your seats? Kirkland! Have you been smoking?"

"No, Sir, I haven't." Kirkland said. Phillips sniffed.

"Has he?" He demanded, looking at Alfred.

"I don't know, sir." Alfred said. "Maybe he did before he came."

Phillips glared at them both, looking from Kirkland to Alfred and back to Kirkland.

"Sit back down. Both of you." He said. He turned to go, but then turned to face Alfred, "If I found out you're lying - that's another detention! And you don't want to fall into the habit of it, or you'll end up a waster like him."

He turned on his heel and left.

Arthur straightened out his t-shirts and sat back down.

"Wow." Alfred said. "Is he allowed to talk to students like that?" He laughed nervously and sat, pulling his chair closer to Kirkland's desk.

"He's allowed to talk to me like that. They all do."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter. He seems to like you, anyway. Do you suck his cock?"

"What?!"

"You heard me."

"No." Alfred coughed. "I don't. Don't be so disgusting. He likes football."

"I bet you get straight As, too? All As, football, never late. You're here because you cut a class for the first time ever or forgot to hand in an assignment." Kirkland said, leaning back once again, almost lounging.

"Shut up." Alfred said. "You don't know anything."

"Don't I? I know you're a pathetic teacher's pet."

Alfred didn't like being called names, especially by people who didn't know anything about him. He tried biting his tongue, but -

"I lied. I do know who you are. Everyone knows what a loser you are, Arthur Kirkland." Alfred paused, half disbelieving that his mouth was saying these things. "And I'd rather be a A-student-teacher's-pet than a...than a z-student like you! And a Waster, like Phillips said." Alfred said, nearly spitting his words. Arthur Kirkland's nostrils flared in anger. He slammed his hands down on the table and stood up. He pulled on his coat and swung his backpack over his shoulder. And then he jumped on the table, kicking all the books from the neighbouring desks before jumping over and doing the same to the next one. Alfred watched, jaw slightly ajar, from his seat as Phillips came running back in.

"Kirkland! Get off the table!"

Arthur jumped off the table and run past Phillips, towards the fire exits.

Phillips started screaming at Arthur Kirkland, running after him bright red in the face.

"Jones! Go home early!" He yelled, as Kirkland set off the fire alarms and made his back exit escape. Alfred gathered his things, watching Vice Principal Phillips chase Kirkland across the school fields. He couldn't help but smile a bit.

He left detention, thinking about whether he should go home now or join practice, even if he wasn't there for long. He decided it wasn't worth going.

Alfred went through the evening, in a state of semi-regret. He didn't want to say those things to Arthur Kirkland, but he had started it, and they were true.

Alfred went to bed that night, giving unwilling thoughts to Arthur Kirkland.

A/N:

Really not sure whether or not this going to be continued, I'm pretty terrible at writing lately. If it is continued it's probably going to be mostly UK/US with some other b-pairings.

This is kind of based off the Breakfast Club. I love that movie. I know most people prefer Alfred to be the cockier, more dominant one, but as I was re-watching it, Alfred as a cross between Molly Ringwald and the jock-guy in the movie just made sense. Arthur is based off Judd Nelson's character, John Bender.