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An explosion.
A few screams.
Some assorted curses and profanities.
Those were the typical sounds that plagued Professor Arthur Kirkland's 5th grade Clockwork Robotics and Engineering classroom. Sounds that Professor Kirkland himself rather enjoyed, except for the screaming children, of course. That was moreso grating on his ears, but he could ignore them in favor of applauding the latest catastrophic failure of his class.
"Very well done, indeed, Miss Flavisham. Next time, perhaps your homework may explode after we make it to the target range?" Arthur removed his own soot covered goggles, cleaning them off with a handkerchief he kept just for this type of occasion.
The student in question, Annette Flavisham, had debris in her hair, and tears in her eyes. It was rather pathetic, if Arthur were to be honest. Which, as a rule, he tended to be blunt with his students. Especially the ones that blew holes in the ceiling of his classroom.
"Oh come now, do clean up your mess of a project. My constructs will see to the repairs, you all get the brooms and mops." Arthur clapped his hands twice, alerting a few of his own personal cleaning machines to the mess that had been made in his room.
It was no secret that this was one of the most dangerous classrooms, next to Professor Herdavery's 'Science of Applied Gene Splicing' and 'Ethically Gray Cross-Species Transplantation' classes. At least Arthur's didn't eat people alive, usually. That was the beauty of clockwork, to him. The ability to obliterate a target without the need for training and other trivial matters. No, his constructs could eliminate any target set before them, so long as their clockwork kept ticking. It was much more efficient than a biological abomination, in his eyes.
Still, the construct had to actually make it to the target, which sadly, Miss Flavisham failed to do once again.
"Perhaps, Miss Flavisham, this class is too difficult for you? I could always have you put into detention for remedial work." There was a sort of sinister air about Arthur when he mentioned 'detention', "A few weeks in my after school courses, and you will be wishing you had actually bothered to open your schoolbook-"
Before Arthur could finish his threat, an unimaginably annoying presence made itself known in the doorway to his classroom.
"You're not seriously giving your whole 'detention' speech again, are you? I thought we had a friendly chat about this in my office already. "
The tense atmosphere among the students of the class seemed to evaporate alongside the residual smoke of the explosion, replaced instead by rays of golden sunshine-like hair and a brilliant smile. Arthur could feel his aggravation shift focus from disciplining his students, having it all settle upon getting this obstacle out of his classroom as soon as possible.
"Headmaster Jones... I don't believe today was a scheduled visit. To what do I owe the, ah, pleasure of your company?" Arthur tried to make his distaste for the school's new head of staff as blatant and clear as he possibly could.
Yet, for all his efforts, Jones simply smiled, unbothered by any of Arthur's glares or snide comments.
"What, you mean aside from the gaping hole in the roof of your classroom?"
Alfred F. Jones, the newly appointed Headmaster of Hollow Fields School for the Scientifically Gifted and Ethically Unfettered, was truly a mad scientist without peer. From the outside, one would think he earned this title through his accomplishments in applied rocket science, or other such fluff, yet that was not entirely the case. Arthur knew the true reason why Jones was chosen to take over after the previous Headmaster's retirement. It had less to do with skill or research goals, and more to do with personality.
Professor Alfred F. Jones, while being a brilliantly mad scientist, was also one of the few morally and ethically 'good' amongst his peers. Sure, he practiced mad science and had his moments of creative insanity, but his heart was in it for the good of mankind, rather than to further his own goals.
That was one of the things Arthur found the most aggravating about him.
"I am very well aware of what transpired inside my own class, now if you will excuse me, I have a lesson to teach, and a punishment to-"
Arthur, who had crossed the room to meet Jones at the door, soon realized that the Headmaster had walked right past him. With a huff, Arthur observed as Jones knelt by Miss Flavisham, who had begun to cry uncontrollably. Apparently, Headmaster Jones was comforting her, and offering to find her a tutor amongst the upperclassmen of the school. It was disgusting. Arthur absolutely loathed children. If he hadn't been receiving funding for his research, Arthur would have left this accursed job ages ago. Yet, as it stood, this school was giving him obscene amounts of money for his personal projects. It was a difficult situation to deal with, but ultimately, no other school would give him so much research funding. Clockwork Robotics as a field had fallen out of favor as of late, fighting for its place against steam powered machines that flooded the market.
Which was another thing Arthur failed to understand about Jones. If he disliked Arthur's methods of teaching and discipline, then why continue funding his research? Clockwork had fallen out of fashion, and many other schools offered a pittance compared to what Arthur was making here. There had to be something Arthur was missing, some angle, a catch to all this easy money. Was Jones after his research? That would ordinarily be plausible, but it was in Arthur's contract that his findings had to be shared with the headmaster before publication anyhow, so that couldn't be it.
"Careful there, think too hard, and all that clockwork in your brain is gonna get jammed up."
Arthur, startled by Jones' sudden presence by his side, actually took a step back. Eyes were on him, locking him in place with the intensity of their gaze. The room felt as if it had grown smaller, or was that just because Arthur was in a corner? He felt a chill down his spine from the way those blue eyes watched his every move, down to the way he breathed, but the look was gone in an instant. Had Arthur imagined it?
"Do you mind!? Honestly, did your mother never teach you that it is rude to sneak up on people?"
Once again, Headmaster Jones just laughed at him as if nothing had happened. Arthur felt perplexed. That look Jones had given him was one he knew well. Insatiable, manic curiosity. The very core of the mad sciences. There were wheels turning inside that mind, and Arthur himself felt a pull to discover their secrets.
Another time, perhaps, because his class was quickly descending into chaos the longer he spent distracted. Clearing his throat, Arthur simply ignored Jones' presence and resumed his lessons. Before he knew it, they day was over, and Headmaster Jones had left sometime while he was teaching. It had been a relief to not feel those eyes on him any longer.
Still, something nagged at his mind. His curiosity had been stirred, and it left Arthur restless for days on end. Each time Arthur happened to catch Jones' gaze from far off, he could feel something off about it. Something that pulled him in.
Arthur managed to get another taste of that delicious secrecy after a month had passed. In the halls of the school near the outdoor target range, Arthur had been volunteered to work on some of the machinery that lined the walls. Some of it was functional, but quite a bit of it truly was just for show. The larger cogs that clicked and clanked into place were typically just for decor, unless, of course, there was a large clock nearby.
As it happened, there was a decent size clock inside a nearby room, which a few of these cogs belonged to. A system of his own design, the whole wall was transparent to show the magnificent clockwork construction inside. Arthur hoped it might inspire some students to have the same passion for clockwork as he'd had when he was a young lad at this school, but every class he taught only reinforced to him that his craft was seen as ‘obsolete’ among the younger generations.
Hard at work and lost in his own head, Arthur was taken by complete surprise when a voice he knew all too well decided to make itself heard.
“Having fun, Artie?”
With his head inside the wall and surrounded by delicate moving parts, Arthur knew he wouldn't be able to escape Jones this time. He was resigned to his fate.
“Do not call me ‘Artie’.”
“Can I call you Art? Artster? Artilicious-”
“Are you quite finished, or would you like to allow me to actually fix this bloody clock before it chimes midnight?”
“Depends...” Jones’ voice dropped lower, making Arthur strain to hear it, “Are you gonna punish me if I keep bothering you?”
There was something about the way Jones spoke those words that lit a fire inside Arthur. His cheeks were red, but by the time he managed to get himself out from inside the inner workings of the clock, the Headmaster was gone.
The clock chimed the hour, but it wasn't nearly as deafening as the sound of Arthur's restless heart.
It wasn't until some weeks later that Arthur heard the familiar buzz of the school's intercom spring to life. Feliciano Vargas, one of the school's twin caretakers, was happily chattering about the announcement of lunchtime. Arthur's 8th grade students all cleared out as fast as they could, eager to get their lunches. In all the noise of their departure, Arthur almost failed to hear the final words spoken through the device.
"Oh! Also, Professor Kirkland, your presence is requested in the Headmaster's office! Have a nice lunch, all!"
Shit.
Arthur could feel a migraine forming behind his eyes, spurred on by the very thought of having to deal with Jones in any capacity. Still, he must do as told to secure his funding. Perhaps he was getting a greater allowance? It was highly unlikely, but a man could dream.
Passing through the halls of the school, Arthur felt a sense of pride as students cleared the way for him. Their fear of him was well earned, added to little by little over years of his teaching methods and detention horror stories being passed down through the grades. It was rather amusing, as he himself felt his punishments were actually far more lax than what had been the norm a few decades ago, when he'd attended this school in his youth.
Back then, children who went to detention never returned.
Ah, but he'd been the star pupil of the Headmistress at the time, Miss Weaver, as she had taught the Clockwork Robotics classes personally. A shame that she'd been lost in the terrible accident when the school had collapsed. Arthur had already graduated by then, and heard about the war among the teachers that resulted in much of the school being reduced to rubble. A tragedy, but it was always a risk when bringing together so many brilliant, yet completely mad scientists. He supposed that was one good thing about the change in leadership since then. The Headmaster before Jones had been the one to offer Arthur his job in the first place, even if they hadn't seen eye to eye ethically, they both needed each other. Back then, Arthur spent much of his time rebuilding the internal clockwork of the school building itself, rather than teaching the subject. Then came the job offer he just couldn't refuse.
Teach these young minds the basic skills they would need to be successful scientists, and in return, receive all the funding he would need to research his clockwork doll theories. So long as he did no human experimentation, he was clear to research as he wished, which was fine by him. That had been the deal.
Then Jones came along.
Suddenly, overnight, half the staff were under investigation for war crimes or other such frivolities. In a month, half were replaced with newer, and far more mentally stable counterparts. On one hand, Arthur was glad to be rid of a few of his more annoying coworkers. On the other, he now had to deal with Jones and his nauseating goody-two-shoes attitude-
Arthur's internal thought process came to a sudden halt as he ran face first into a pillar near the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Blast, he really should watch where he was going, rather than getting lost in his imaginings like this. Dusting off the lapels of his jacket, Arthur checked himself over for any rips or tears. This suit of his was an antique, Victorian Period in origin. He had a flair for the style of those times, when his work would have been much more appreciated.
The pause in his mental ramblings gave Arthur enough quiet to hear voices inside the Headmaster's office. One familiar, one not so much.
"I've told you before, I'm too busy-"
That voice belonged to Jones.
"And I'm telling you now, you don't have a choice. A deadline is a deadline."
That voice was... also Jones? No, it was much quieter... but there was a certain resemblance in the tone.
"Fine! Just- just get out of here, Matthew. I'll have it by then, but you owe me. And don't you even think about backstabbing on this, or so help me-"
Oh.
Arthur rather liked the sound of Jones' voice when he was being threatening. There was an icy allure to it, the same one that had Arthur shivering from the look in those eyes just weeks ago.
Berating himself for eavesdropping, and for thinking that sod's voice was anything resembling sexy, Arthur stepped away from the door. He took a seat to the left, willing away the excitement in his heart. There would be absolutely no way Arthur would ever become fascinated by Jones. Never.
Not even if his good morals were only a front for something much darker.
Damn, the very thought of discovering all of Jones' secrets had Arthur's nails digging into his own thighs.
The door opened, and Arthur's eyes followed a peculiar sight. A man, one that looked strikingly similar to Headmaster Jones himself, stalked out of the room. He appeared aggravated, which Arthur could relate to, especially considering who he had just dealt with. Behind him, Jones looked exhausted, as if he'd been arguing with someone for hours on end. It was an odd look, one Arthur was unaccustomed to seeing on the young Headmaster's face.
"Is this a bad time?" Arthur called, pretending he hadn't heard any of that conversation from before, "You did have Feliciano page me during the announcements, so I would be very upset if I wasted my lunch break for nothing at all."
Jones' tired eyes met Arthur's venom laced gaze, which seemed to spark a fire inside him.
"Oh, don't let me keep you." Jones threw the attitude right back at Arthur this time, much to his surprise, "Door's over there if you wanna skip out on this buffet I had brought into my office."
Well that was new. Sure, Jones had given some playful attitude before, but this felt like a different side to the man. Baffled, yet curious, Arthur simply made his way past Jones. He made sure to turn his nose up at the other.
"Probably all greasy, fat filled foods, knowing your diet." Arthur snipped back, a little eager to draw more of that chilling darkness to the surface.
Instead of the usual bright laughter, Arthur only heard a darker chuckle, the rumble of it closer to his ear than he realized.
"Don't push me, Arthur. Not today." Jones muttered those words, the feeling of his breath warm against the cool skin of Arthur's neck.
He felt frozen again, torn between pressing his luck to see what he could draw out of this man, or moving on and acting like it never happened. Like none of this ever happened since the day Jones started here. The look in his eyes, so much darker when he would gaze upon Arthur from afar. Day after day of wondering if this man would make a damn move or not.
"Push you? Why, I'd rather shove you, if it's all the same." Arthur's voice was unwavering in his response, his head turned just enough to gaze back at Jones- no, back at Alfred.
Alfred, the new headmaster who appeared so good and perfect to everyone else, yet Arthur knew better. Everyone had secrets. Everyone had their fair share of darkness.
"Arthur-" Alfred's eyes darkened, one of his hands reaching up to hold Arthur's chin in a tight grip, keeping their gazes locked, "-dammit- you're such a dick-"
"Oh my, the precious Headmaster using foul language? Naughty." Arthur teased, even as Alfred's grip on his chin tightened.
"You say that like you don't get off on it." Alfred's retort cut right through the tension in the room.
"Guilty as charged, but what are you going to do about it, hm?"
Teeth were on Arthur's throat, raking across the skin in a torturously slow movement. Lips met his ear, Alfred's whisper almost impossible for Arthur to hear over the sound of his own heartbeat.
"You'd like me to do something, wouldn't you? You've been begging for it since the day we met-" Alfred's free hand held onto Arthur's hip, "I've seen the way you look at me. The way your fingers move across your legs to tease me from afar."
“Bold of you to assume the show was for your eyes at all, brat.” Arthur made a move of his own, making sure to swing them both in a way that would have Alfred trapped against his own desk, “Now be a good lad, and put that mouth to better use, or else I'll have to bring you to detention.”
With the tables turned so quickly, it seemed as if Alfred was at a loss for words. Arthur took pride in the fact that he was able to stun this man into silence in such a way. He made sure to move his hips just enough so that Alfred could feel his body heat, but not enough to give him any gratification. Not yet.
“Good lad, nice and quiet. Class is in session, and I won't have any disruptive behavior, understand?”
Arthur was delighted to see the red on Alfred's cheeks spread all the way to his ears. He was even more excited to see just how ‘enthusiastic’ Alfred was to be treated this way. Now Arthur finally had a hold on one of Alfred's delicious secrets.
Alfred had a kink for teachers.
“Now then... today's lesson will be about anatomy.” Arthur's gloved hands trailed across Alfred's chest, “And, of course, consent. Alfred, would you care to be my volunteer for the day?”
“Y-Yes, Ar-”
Alfred managed to get the words halfway out before Arthur gently slapped his wrist, forcing the other to look in his eyes.
“You may address me only as Mr. Kirkland while class is in session, Alfred. Otherwise, you will need to be punished. You don't want that, now do you?”
There was a pause where Arthur wondered if Alfred actually did want the punishment, that cheeky arse, but he eventually spoke up.
“No, Mr. Kirkland.”
“Good lad. So tell me, do you want to be my volunteer?”
“Yes, Mr. Kirkland.”
Arthur's smile grew more sinister, his lips inches from Alfred's for a time. His hands resumed their roaming across the body before him, and how lovely it was. Not too hard, not too soft, a happy medium.
“Perfect. Now I would like for you to give a demonstration to the class. I do hope you came prepared.” Arthur teased, his hips finally making full contact with Alfred's, releasing some of their pent up tension with just that little bit of friction.
“And remember, I'll have to punish you if you fail the test.”
Oh yes, Arthur loved indulging in Alfred's curious fantasy. He couldn't have hoped for a more delectable secret to capture as his own. Perhaps, in the future, Alfred would reveal even more for him to enjoy to their fullest.
Curiosity had its dangers, but the satisfaction was worth the risk.