Summary: As a Resident Assistant, Arthur Kirkland is responsible for watching over the students in his dorm. Even the arrogant, annoying, aggravatingly attractive ones… College AU. USUK.

Rating: M for my favorite things (swearing, drinking, and smexiness).

Quick guide to American university terminology!

Resident assistant (RA) ≈ senior resident / subwarden
Freshmen fifteen (pounds) = fresher five (kg)
Sophomore = second-year student
Graduate = post-graduate
Major in = read / study

Special thank you to Fire Bear1 for betaing this story! You are wonderful :)

Your Resident Arse

Free food was Alfred's favorite part of the university experience. It was also the only reason that he ever bothered to attend the dorm's Wednesday meetings. During his first year, he had discovered that it was best to arrive in the dorm lounge about a half hour late so he could skip all of the dull dorm announcements and jump straight to eating. He hoped the same plan would work at his sophomore dorm.

As Alfred walked into the lounge, he frowned. It was thirty minutes into the meeting and an older blond student who had his back turned to Alfred was still talking. He seemed to be going over a long list of rules, including a ban on parties, loud noise, and alcohol. Even worse, the only food on the table were coal-black cupcakes.

"...always open if you want to talk," the student said. "And, of course, I have the master key if you get locked out. But do try to remember your own keys. Now, does anyone have any questions?"

"Yeah, what's that crap on the plate?" Alfred asked, his loud voice making everyone turn to face him. "Can we get pizza next week?"

The older student whirled around. His face froze for a second as he looked at Alfred. Then he shook his head and glared. "They're fairy cakes," he sputtered. "And I happened to make them myself."

Alfred whistled. "Dude, I hope your major ain't cooking."

"It isn't."

"Hah, let me guess, English?"

"Yes," the blond said icily. His tone would have warned off all but the most foolhardy. But Alfred was a complete fool and totally tone-deaf.

"Well, look, there's an easy way to solve this," Alfred said, turning to face the group of gathered residents. "Raise your hands if you want pizza next week." Dozens of hands shot into the air, and Alfred grinned in victory. Sure, he had made an enemy, but pizza was totally worth it.

When the meeting ended a few minutes later, Alfred grabbed one of the charred cakes. He crunched through the burnt outer layer and into the raw inside. Sure, it was terrible, but at least it was free. He plopped down next to his roommate on the dorm couch.

"So who was that guy anyway?" he asked.

"Arthur Kirkland. Our RA."

To: Honda Kiku
From: Arthur Kirkland
Date: Thursday, September 4, 8:11pm

Karaoke sounds marvelous, but I'm afraid that I'm on duty this weekend. I have to make sure that my residents don't do anything stupid. Honestly, I don't know why I ever thought free housing was worth it. These undergraduates are the most ungrateful, spoiled children that I have ever met.

Of course, you could always bring the alcohol and songs to me. Then again, I don't think that would be a good idea either. These brats would just attempt to blackmail me. And there's one in particular who's a complete pain in the arse...

That Friday night, Alfred accepted the bottle of Captain Morgan from his friend and took a swig. After a summer under his parents' roof, he was thrilled to be back where he could drink freely, play video games whenever he wanted, and catch up with all of his friends.

World Academy prided itself on its unique rotating campus system. All classes were taught in English, but each year the school moved to a new country, giving its students an incredible opportunity to experience new cultures.

The culture Alfred was experiencing at the moment was a Friday-night-drinking culture. They had started an hour earlier and Alfred felt pleasantly buzzed. He and his friends had decided that Mario Kart was best played drunk. Under their rules, they took a drink when they hit a shell. More drinks made it harder to control the cars, leading them to hit more shells, which meant more drinks. It was an excellent feedback loop.

Alfred grinned as he swerved to avoid a shell, tossing a bomb behind him that sent a driver off the map. He whooped and pumped his fist in the air when he won the race.

Over the sound of the video game, Alfred heard someone banging on his door. He rolled his eyes. There was only one person who would be bothering him at this time on a Friday night. In just the first week he had learned that his RA, Arthur Kirkland, was an annoying, stuck-up, grouchy English graduate student who hated everyone and everything. He was a spoilsport and a killjoy, and he positively relished ruining all of Alfred's fun. He acted like everyone at school should be studying instead of having a social life.

But Alfred refused to give in. As an American, he believed in freedom, especially the freedom to party, and he swore he would do whatever he could to stop the manifest injustice of letting their despotic RA crush his treasured freedoms. And with that thought in mind, Alfred soon became the resident expert in tweaking his nose at authority and riling up Arthur (who, in turn, seemed to focus his attention on Alfred more than strictly necessary).

"Artie, isn't it past your bedtime?" Alfred asked cheerfully as he opened the door, his words barely slurred. "I hear that old guys like you need your sleep."

"Quiet hours started at 11pm," Arthur said, ignoring the insult to his age. He glared and tapped his wristwatch. "It's now 11:05."

Alfred laughed. "Yeah, but everyone's out partying. It's not like they care. I mean, come on, dude, it's just the first week!"

"Your roommate isn't partying," Arthur noted dryly, pointing to the slender brunette furiously typing at his desk, working on some essay Alfred didn't understand. "Doesn't it bother you that you're making it harder for him to study?"

"Ah, Toris doesn't mind, he's got awesome headphones." Alfred turned to his roommate and called. "Right, buddy?"

Toris didn't respond.

"See what I mean?"

At that point, Arthur's eyes latched onto the bottle of Captain Morgan. Alfred tried to step between him and the rum, but he wasn't fast enough to stop the older student. Arthur darted forward and confiscated the liquor. He smirked at Alfred and made a tsk-tsk noise. "The last time I checked, alcohol isn't allowed in the dormitories."

"Hey, you can't take that!" Alfred protested, trying to grab the bottle back, but finding it a little difficult given his tipsy state. "That's my property!"

"Well, you're certainly welcome to call up and complain to the Dean of Students. I'm sure she will be delighted to ask why an underage student had a bottle of alcohol in his possession," Arthur said cheerfully as he slipped out the door, rum in hand.

"No taking without just compensation, you know!" Alfred shouted into the hallway, knowing it was a lost cause. He slammed his door shut and plopped back on the couch. "Ugh, that guy is such an asshole," he said, conveniently ignoring his own role in their downward spiral of rude behavior.

"Yeah, resident asshole," his friend agreed.

They laughed and high-fived, and Alfred decided that it would be a great idea to replace the "Resident Assistant" nameplate on Arthur's door with a more... accurate description. He could bribe a friend in the engineering school to get access to the right engraving equipment, something that would take a few weeks. It required a bit of effort, but he knew that the end result would be perfect.

To: Matthew Williams
From: Alfred "Freeeeedom!" Jones
Date: Sunday, September 7, 1:34pm

Hey Mattie,

Tuesday works for me, but we need to meet at your dorm. My RA is super anal about the quiet hours. Ugh, I can't believe I got stuck with this guy. Do you think maybe we could swap? XD

Actually nevermind. I have a plan to get him to leave:

1. Be super annoying
2. Annoy him some more
3. ?
4. Profit!

Best. Plan. Ever.

Al

With its promise of free pizza, the second dorm meeting drew a much larger crowd. Arthur made his announcements and then glared at Alfred when the student strolled into the room at the end of the meeting and grabbed a few slices of pizza.

"Om nom, this is delicious!" Alfred said, talking with his mouth open as he chewed.

"It's a congealed mass of fat and grease. It's disgusting," Arthur replied. He scrunched his nose at the American's complete lack of manners.

Arthur kept a look of disdain on his face, but his insides churned. He had felt an instant physical attraction to the annoying American student from the moment their eyes had met at the first dorm meeting. Whenever Alfred walked down the hallway, Arthur's gaze followed, admiring the young man's broad shoulders and taut buttocks. But he absolutely couldn't act on his infatuation. As a resident assistant, it was forbidden to date a student. Pouncing on one and dragging him back to his bed was strictly verboten. Unfortunately, tamping down on that attraction just made Arthur more irritable than usual.

"Aren't you worried about the fresher five?" he snarked, letting his eyes drift to Alfred's midsection. Although so much pizza should have left a layer of pudge, he had to admit that Alfred's white shirt clung tightly to a perfect set of abs. The pizza didn't appeal to Arthur at all, but Alfred's delectable chest certainly did.

Alfred set the half-eaten pizza down and frowned. "I'm not fat," he muttered.

Sensing that his insult may have gone too far, Arthur felt a sudden conflict. RAs were taught to be sensitive to body image issues. But Alfred was an annoying brat who encouraged the other students to rebel against his authority; Arthur couldn't go soft on him or he would have a full-fledged student rebellion on his hands. Feeling resolute, Arthur crossed his arms and refused to take back his insult. He watched Alfred toss away his half-eaten pizza slice and told himself that it was for the best.

The next week, Arthur noticed that Alfred didn't attend the dorm meeting at all, leaving him with an extra box of pizza. Feeling slightly guilty, he took the box up to the second floor, planning to apologize to Alfred for calling him fat. He made it as far as Alfred's door, but lost his nerve at that point and ended up leaving the box outside.

Arthur regretted his kind gesture a few days later when he discovered Alfred's latest attempt to turn the dorm into an animal house.

The RA gasped and nearly had a heart attack when he saw the undergraduates sledding down the stairs on Saturday night. They had piled pillows, blankets, and foam mattresses on the stairs to create a slide and were riding down the soft ramp with more mattresses. Another set of mattresses lined the bottom wall to prevent them from ramming head-first into concrete. Students laughed and shouted and took turns racing up to the landing and then sliding down, acting like little children instead of young adults.

Briefly shocked into silence by the idea that smart students could do something so stupid, Arthur stood near the base of the stairs and gaped. He barely had time to recognize the approaching blond, blue-eyed blur before the mattress knocked Arthur's feet out from underneath him. Arthur flailed and landed on top of Alfred in a heap of limbs. As he caught his breath, a few thoughts passed fleetingly through Arthur's head: he noticed that Alfred's eyes looked beautifully expressive without his glasses, and he rather enjoyed the press of Alfred's firm muscles and warm body. But those thoughts were minor droplets in his ocean of anger. Because his main thought was that he was going to kill Alfred.

"Hey, Artie! Didn't see you there. Did you want to join us?" Alfred asked cheerfully, grabbing Arthur's hand and easily pulling him to his feet. They stepped out of the way as another group of students sled down the stairs.

Arthur took a deep breath. "Are all of you insane!?" he shouted, crossing his arms and glaring. "Someone could break a bone!"

The other students looked concerned, but Alfred just shrugged and grinned. "Hey, loosen up. We did this in my freshmen year dorm all the time."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "I don't care what you did in your old dorm, I'm not allowing it here." He pitched his voice to carry: "If this mess isn't cleaned up in ten minutes there will be no more free pizza at dorm events for the rest of the year."

Alfred's eyes widened to a comical extent. He looked tempted to try defying Arthur, but he wasn't quite willing to gamble when free pizza —the staple of the university diet—was on the line. With three minutes to spare, the students finished cleaning the entire stairwell, making sure that all of the mattresses and blankets were returned to their proper places.

Alfred lifted the final foam mattress and carried it back to his room. "Asshole," he muttered under his breath as he walked past Arthur.

"And you'd best not forget it!" Arthur replied, smirking in victory. He didn't care if students hated him; it was the price he paid to maintain order in the dorm.

To: Honda Kiku
From: Arthur Kirkland
Date: Tuesday, September 30, 9:03pm

It's terrible, Kiku. I've tried to be a good RA, but the students in my dorm are even brattier than my brothers. The worst is this arrogant Californian sophomore who seems to think that he can break any rule with impunity just because he's good-looking.

I swear, I'm at my wits end. I've caught him with rum, forced him to turn down his music multiple times, and even had to stop him from using the stairs as a sledding ramp! I'm beginning to wonder why I ever thought that free housing was worth it.

Sorry for the rant. Thank you for listening so patiently.

Muttering to himself about bloody annoying undergrads, Arthur filled his electric kettle with water from the sink in his bathroom. (There were some perks to having the RA's room. A private bathroom was one of them.) He continued checking his email as the water boiled and started his reading assignments as the tea steeped. Halfway through his cup, he saw a head peek into his room. Arthur kept his door open to encourage students to ask him for advice—and also to keep an eye on the hallway.

"Hello, Toris. Would you like a cup?" Arthur offered. He wondered if the quiet student wanted to escape his annoying roommate.

"If it's no trouble," Toris politely accepted a cup and a seat.

"Is there anything you wanted to talk about?" Arthur asked as they both waited for the tea to steep. "You know, if you ever have any trouble with your roommate, it would be a simple matter to get a transfer."

"Oh, no, Alfred is a great roommate!"

Arthur made a noncommittal noise, trying to hide his surprise and disbelief. He wasn't sure how to react. "You seem like an... unlikely pair," he finally replied.

As they drank their tea, Toris shared the story of his freshman year. He had initially been assigned to a 4-person room with three other Eastern European students: a Russian, an Estonian, and a Latvian. Apparently someone in the admission's office assumed that their shared border would make it easier to room together. They were wrong. Toris applied for a room transfer and was immensely grateful when he moved in with Alfred.

At first, Toris said, he thought that the American was too loud and somewhat stupid. Alfred partied every weekend, while Toris spent all of his time in the room studying, rarely leaving other than to eat food or go to class. Finally, Alfred dragged him out for a weekend ski trip, saying that he wouldn't take no for an answer. Toris was irritated (though he hid it well behind his polite exterior), but when he gave it a try he had fun and learned a new skill.

After that, their friendship blossomed. Alfred was still too loud, but he was also kind and happy-go-lucky. More importantly, he genuinely wanted to be friends. They bonded over food and Eurovision, and Toris invested in a good pair of noise-blocking headphones.

"This has honestly been the happiest part of my time at college," Toris finished.

Arthur blinked, surprised by the fond smile on the Lithuanian's face. He didn't have much time to think about it. As if their conversation had summoned him, Alfred stuck his head into the room a moment later and his gaze landed on his roommate.

"Hey, Toris! Do you remember when our CS homework is due?"

"By 11:59 tonight."

"Crap." Alfred sighed and then his eyes widened as he spotted Arthur's tea kettle. "Hey, isn't that a hot-water heater?" he asked.

"I suppose you want a cup of tea, too?" Arthur asked sarcastically. He really couldn't see Alfred as a tea-drinker. The sophomore seemed to run on coffee, energy drinks, and some unholy mixture of fat, grease and sugar.

"Nah, I can't stand that stuff." Alfred smirked. "But I'm pretty sure we're not allowed to have kitchen appliances in our rooms."

"RAs have special rules," Arthur bluffed.

"Really? I wonder what the Dean of Students would say about that..." Alfred said, slipping out of the room before Arthur had a chance to respond. Arthur could hear the American whistling all the way down the hall and the noise set his teeth on edge.

"He wouldn't," Arthur said, grinding his teeth. The whole point of drinking tea had been to calm down, but now he was more annoyed than ever. People who wanted to stay on Arthur's good side did not mess with his tea.

"Really, when you get to know him, he's very nice," Toris insisted.

Given their unpleasant encounters, Arthur found that hard to believe. The Englishman ended up sticking his electric kettle in the dorm's kitchenette, forcing him to walk down a flight of stairs whenever he wanted a cup of tea. And each time he did, he thought about how much he hated Alfred F. Jones. The loss of his tea kettle meant war.

When it came to strictly enforcing the rules, he planned to give Alfred no quarter.

To: Matthew Williams
From: Alfred "Freeeeedom!" Jones
Date: Sunday, October 5, 4:34pm

Mattie, could you come over and help me with an essay? Please, please, please? Pretty please pancakes with maple syrup on top?

You're good at this stuff. I tried reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, but my professor keeps getting annoyed when I bring up zombies.

Essays were definitely the worst. Alfred didn't understand why everything couldn't be reduced to nice, clean code and elegant mathematical equations. He bashed his forehead against his keyboard a few times. When he looked at the results on his screen, he could tell that the brute force approach didn't work for English class.

"Still working on your essay?" Toris asked, giving him a look of concern.

"Ugh, yes."

"You should ask Mr. Kirkland for help."

Alfred laughed at the idea. "Him helping me seems about as likely as something that is very unlikely. Ugh, stupid metaphors."

"Actually, that would be a simile," Toris corrected. He eyed Alfred thoughtfully. "If you approached him with the right attitude, I think he would be receptive."

Alfred looked at the blank screen, thought about his due date (tomorrow), and decided that it was at least worth a try. He carried his laptop down the hallway to Arthur's room and gave the RA his most charming smile. He could make ladies swoon with his sunny smile, surely he could manage to get a little help from one irritable Brit.

The smile apparently didn't work. "Locked out?" Arthur asked in clipped tones.

"No. I'm having trouble with an essay."

"Well, there's a surprise," Arthur said dismissively. He turned back to his desk and continued writing.

"Geez, you don't need to be mean. I just wanted some help."

Arthur swiveled in his chair to face Alfred and gave the American a disparaging look. "And why should I help you?"

"Because you're good at this stuff?" Alfred suggested. When the compliment didn't work, he decided to try bribery. "I'll help you with math or science or something."

"One of the advantages of being a graduate student is that I no longer have to bother with courses outside my chosen field of study."

"Oh, come on, there has to be something I could offer that you want!"

Arthur's mouth opened slightly and the color rose in his cheeks. He hastily closed his mouth and turned back to face his desk, hiding his face from Alfred's view. "No," he said with a thick voice. "No there isn't."

"Never mind. I knew it was pointless to ask you." Alfred slammed Arthur's door closed as he left. He stalked past the curious onlookers in the hallway until he reached his room, and then slammed his own door for good measure.

"Done already?" Toris gave him a worried look.

"That was useless!" Alfred complained. "He's such an asshole. I'm just going to have to write this damn Pride and Prejudice essay on my own."

Thinking about how angry he was at Arthur's highfalutin attitude, Alfred pounded out the full five pages in a surprisingly short amount of time. He was even more surprised when he received an A on the essay. According to the professor, he thoroughly understood the way the main characters masked their true feelings with veiled insults.

To: Mathew Williams
From: Alfred "Freeeeedom!" Jones
Date: Tuesday, October 7, 11:16pm

Okay, okay, sheesh. I promise to spend less time talking about my RA at the next movie night. Geez. It's not like it was one of your epic 3-hour rants.

And dude. I don't get what you mean about pulling pigtails on the playground. My dorm doesn't even have a playground.

They lived on the same floor. So of course they ran into each other often. It wasn't like Alfred was paying extra attention to Arthur's room. He just happened to notice when a dark-haired young man knocked on Arthur's door. The guy looked pretty, with his nice clothes and delicate features, and Alfred's gaydar senses started tingling. At least, he thought it was his gaydar. He refused to believe that the unpleasant feeling in his stomach was a stab of jealousy.

He promptly walked the short distance between his room and Arthur's so he could butt into their conversation. "Hey, Artie! Is this your boyfriend?"

Arthur's visitor gave Alfred a blank look.

"Is there something you need, Alfred?" Arthur asked, sounding even more peeved than usual, which was quite an accomplishment. But Alfred noticed that he didn't deny that the other man was his boyfriend.

"Just wanted to say hi." Alfred turned towards Arthur's visitor and grinned. "You should try to get Arthur to loosen up, you know. Dude's got a huge stick up his butt."

The man just looked embarrassed and stayed silent.

"Just ignore him, Kiku. He's always this annoying," Arthur said as he gestured into his room. Once his friend was safely inside, he turned back to face Alfred and gave the American a scowl. "Could you try not to destroy the dorm in the next hour? I need to help my friend with his essay." He didn't wait for Alfred's answer before shutting the door in his face.

"How come he gets essay help?" Alfred muttered to himself, wondering why his stomach clenched as he watched the door close. Despite Arthur's innocent explanation, he'd seen enough gay porn to know that 'tutoring' was a common excuse to get into the same room and have sex. He shook his head, and decided that he was just jealous because Arthur was getting some and he wasn't.

Yes, he told himself, that was definitely the reason.

To: Honda Kiku
From: Arthur Kirkland
Date: Saturday, October 11, 9:41am

Thank you, but no.

I have no clue how you even got that idea into your head. I was just annoyed and had to rant a bit, that's all. You're seeing something that isn't there, I assure you.

To work on his master's thesis, Arthur needed absolute concentration. Taking Toris's advice, he invested in a good pair of ear plugs, which helped a bit in blocking out the everyday noises of dorm life. He really didn't know how the other students managed to finish their work in such noisy conditions.

Sipping his tea and typing furiously, Arthur let his ideas bloom in black and white on the computer screen. He was making amazing progress, capturing larger and more complex ideas as his fingers danced across the keyboard. He was in a state of perfect writing flow, the authorial Nirvana that all writers sought and few achieved. With just a few more pages, he could take his essay to a completely new level,

He smashed the keyboard as loud pounding on his door pulled him out of the zone.

Grumbling to himself about needy undergrads, Arthur opened his door and tried to paint a pleasant look on his face instead of the murderous rage he felt inside. His RA position provided a decent wage and free room and board, so he didn't want to mess it up.

His smiled disappeared as soon as he saw that Alfred was the one outside his door. But his face warmed and his stomach did a pleasant flip as he realized that Alfred was wearing only a towel. His eyes dropped down to take in Alfred's perfect tanned abs and lean hipbones. The young man's skin glistened from his recent shower. Arthur tried not to stare at the towel wrapped loosely around Alfred's waist. He thought the knot holding the towel in place looked a little loose. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

"... locked me out."

"Hmm?"

"My roommate locked me out," Alfred repeated.

Arthur finally pulled his gaze back to Alfred's face, noticing for the first time that the young man looked years younger without his glasses. "Ah, of course," he replied quickly, reaching for the master key hanging next to his door.

"What, no insults?"

"It goes without saying that you're an idiot."

"Yeah, yeah," Alfred said, shifting from foot to foot as he impatiently waited for Arthur to unlock his door. The towel parted slightly, revealing muscular thighs. Arthur's master key scraped across the door before he realized that he hadn't inserted the key into the slot. He tried again, and this time succeeded in opening the door.

"And you really ought to remember to keep your key with you when showering," Arthur groused, although it was just for show. He wouldn't actually mind if Alfred got locked out during every shower and appeared at his door half-naked and dripping. With that thought in mind, Arthur returned to his room and plopped onto his bed.

After several minutes spent staring blankly at the screen, he realized it would be impossible to return to working on his thesis, especially with the image of Alfred's glistening torso in his mind. He closed the file and booted up his erotica folder. Perhaps if he couldn't quite find it in himself to truly hate the noisy, insufferable undergrad, he could find a better use for him instead. As a different sort of muse.

To: Matthew Williams
From: Alfred "Freeeeedom!" Jones
Date: Sunday, October 19, 3:20pm

I swear, I think he has something planned. He's always watching me and he keeps giving me these strange looks in the hallway.

It's okay though, I have a plan of my own. Check it out!

[Picture of "Resident Asshole" nameplate]

"Did you see the new sign?" one of Alfred's dormmates asked, giving him a sly glance as they walked down the hallway. With the constant insults that flew between the two young men, most people instantly realized who had taken down the "Resident Assistant" sign and replaced it with a new-and-improved "Resident Asshole" sign.

Alfred grinned and shrugged. "Seems pretty accurate to me," he replied.

"I think it would be better if you had spelt 'arsehole' properly."

Alfred spun around to find Arthur standing behind him with an unamused expression. He felt a moment of panic, but he refused to show Arthur that he was worried about getting caught. After all, no one could prove that he had done it, and Arthur deserved it anyway. Alfred shrugged and smirked.

"Y'know, Artie, if you want to learn how not to be an arsehole, you should take lessons from my cousin's RA. She's super nice. Plus, she has amazing gozongas!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm dreadfully sorry that I can't conform to your heterosexist ideals. Unless you want me to dress like Eddie Izzard, I'm afraid you're shit out of luck."

"Pfft. You'd be offering both cake and death. Death cakes!" Alfred retorted.

"Did you just quote Eddie Izzard?" Arthur actually looked impressed.

"Of course! I love cross-dressing British comedians." Alfred's grin widened. "Oh man, we should have a Halloween costume party for the dorm! You can be Izzy."

Arthur arched an eyebrow. "Thank you, no, I'd rather not deal with drunken students destroying the lounge. If you want a party, plan it yourself—"

"Killjoy."

"—and make sure it ends by 11pm. Quiet hours, remember." Arthur turned and walked away. A few steps later he turned around and added, "And absolutely no alcohol!"

To: Honda Kiku
From: Arthur Kirkland
Date: Sunday, October 20, 8:47pm

Look who has a well-made new nameplate, courtesy of my aggravating undergraduates. I must admit, I rather like it.

Truly, it's better to be feared than loved.

[Picture of Arthur standing next to "Resident Asshole" nameplate]

For most of America, Halloween was a holiday for children. Parents took their tykes trick-or-treating for candy, and the kids ate themselves sick the next day.

On a university campus, however, it was a night of unrivaled debauchery. Students dressed up in the most revealing and sexy costumes imaginable and partied into the night. Arthur tried to act like a straight-laced student, but secretly he loved the wild parties. His favorite was a party hosted by the university's LGBT organization. It had started off as a masked costume party years ago when more students were in the closet, giving them a chance to unwind in secrecy. Although the masks were no longer necessary, the tradition had stuck. It was a perfect opportunity to show off his amazing body and find a different outlet for his Alfred-induced irritation.

He sauntered in the front door wearing his skimpy angel outfit and grinned at the other party-goers. He loved to see the naked lust that his costume attracted. Everyone loved long legs and a short toga. A white mask covered the upper portion of his face and his most distinguishing features—his eyebrows. He had even taken the ruse a step further and dyed his hair bright red. Like the Doctor, he had always dreamed of being a ginger.

As he made his way through the hot and sweaty bodies, Arthur let his gaze travel across the room until it landed on a very handsome, half-naked man wearing a black mask and a cape. Arthur didn't much care for comics, but even he recognized the Caped Crusader. The cape swirled, giving Arthur a good view of the young man's chiseled abs and strong legs. He was perfect; just what Arthur had come hoping to find.

Arthur strode closer, smirking as saw the other man stare back with lust. "Hello, there," he said seductively, faking an American accent to further his disguise. "Might I have this dance?" he asked politely. Even as an angel, he was still a gentleman.

"The dark knight loves dancing," the young man responded in a gravelly voice. Up close, Arthur could see that his eyes were a clear blue. Arthur would never admit it, but he had a weakness for baby blues.

Arthur pulled 'Batman' onto the dance floor. He normally refused to dance anything other than proper ballroom dancing. But for tonight he made an exception. It wasn't really dancing anyway... not when the students around him were basically dry-humping to the beat of a Lady Gaga song. It was just a prelude to other nighttime activities. Arthur wanted to forget for the night that he was attracted to a stupid, irritating, annoying, aggravating, vexing undergrad. If he couldn't forget with alcohol, he could at least find a willing substitute on the dance floor.

'Batman' proved surprisingly shy at first, although Arthur eventually coaxed him closer. After a song's worth of almost-touching, sexy dancing, and lustful looks, Arthur was ready for more. He turned around and ground his ass into the other man's crotch. He smirked as the taller student responded by grabbing his hips possessively.

Arthur liked the firm press of the other man against him, enjoying the hands running up and down his sides, lifting up his toga and caressing his thighs. Arthur rotated within the circle of the other man's arms, slipping his knee between the other man's legs and pressing upward. The other man shivered in anticipation, and Arthur was half-tempted to just take him right there on the dance floor. He was saved from making the decision as the man pulled him toward the stairs.

They tumbled in to the first empty bedroom, and Arthur found himself slammed against the wall. The wings on his costume fell off, crashing to the floor. Arthur smirked, thinking that it was a nice metaphor for what they were about to do. Then the other man lifted him up by his ass, and Arthur stopped thinking at all. He wrapped his legs around the man and sucked his neck.

"Oh, yeah. Batman makes the good angels go bad," the man said, panting slightly, a smile on his swollen lips. His husky voice sounded oddly familiar, but Arthur couldn't place it. The man carried Arthur to the futon, setting him down and slipping the toga strap from Arthur's shoulder. With one knee pressed between Arthur's legs, he leaning forward to lick Arthur's exposed nipple. Arthur moaned and arched his back against the futon.

Batman reached for Arthur's mask, and Arthur maintained enough presence of mind to grab both hands and push them away. "No, leave it on."

"Oooh, kinky. So, angel, how do you want to do this? Hand job, blow job, the Italian Job?" Batman asked casually, his voice still gravelly.

"I don't think... I'm familiar with an Italian job," Arthur admitted, still trying to gather his thoughts and maintain a fake American accent, a rather difficult process given the half-naked young man straddling his lap.

Batman grinned. "It's a movie. That's where we go back to my room and make out while watching a movie."

Arthur shook his head. He didn't want to wander over to a strange dorm in his skimpy angel costume. "Blow jobs," he decided. He pushed Batman down onto the futon and turned around on his knees so that he was facing the young man's legs. "Lift your hips," he demanded, pulling off Batman's boxers as the young man complied with his request. Lowering his butt so that it was in the other man's face, Arthur kneeled forward and licked the salty skin. He breathed deeply, enjoying the masculine musk.

"The Dark Knight rises," Batman moaned. He stopped making silly movie puns once Arthur lowered his mouth onto his cock. Arthur was so enthralled by the warm cock twitching in his mouth that he barely noticed as Batman pulled down his own underwear and returned the favor. They pleasured each other in the 6-9 position, building to a climax as the room filled with the sound of throaty moans, underscored by the sound of the bass on the dance floor below. Arthur jolted in pleasure and felt his vision dim along the edges. The release of his pent up sexual tensions filled him with a haze of pleasure. He managed to stay on his knees long enough to swallow and then collapsed on top of the other man. The warm, firm muscles quivered marvelously underneath him.

Before they had time to catch their breath, another kissing couple entered the room and Batman jerked upright in surprise, sending them both toppling to the floor. Scrambling to his feet, Arthur frantically pulled up his underwear and fixed his toga. He breathed a sigh of relief to find the mask still safely secured to his face.

Batman wasn't so lucky. He blushed as he retrieved his boxers and picked up his mask from the floor. Seeing the identity of his one-night stand, Arthur raced out of the room and ignored the shouts from behind. He escaped the party, returned to his dorm in record time, and furiously scrubbed the temporary red dye out of his hair.

Of all the people, in all the world, it had to be Alfred...