Join the club! (for Minerals)

[BCAD]

Alexander sighed, adjusting his glasses with his index finger as he did so. This was irksome. More than irksome. It was infuriating.
Sometimes, he seriously doubted the intelligence of the school faculty. What did it benefit him from being forced to join some idiotic sports team? Furthermore, what did it benefit some meathead from joining the bookclub, the chemistry club, the debating society, or some other gathering that they would only cause a ruckus in?

But as much as it annoyed him, he was still a student and bound to obey the rules that the school decided upon. Even rules that he thought were completely stupid. So he had signed up to the swim team. Every second school day, he was expected to go to the school pool and practice with the other members. He had no intention of doing so of course. He had his name down on the list of members, that was enough. While he couldn't just go home when club activities were on (that was more or less the same as playing hookey), that didn't mean that he had to splash about in the water like a fool either. He spent his first day on the swim team absent from the pool, getting a head start on his chemistry homework.

The teenager sat in the empty common room, getting through the homework with ease. He had always been far more adept at the academic side of school life than any other aspect. He wasn't popular. He knew that. It had bothered him in the past, no one liked to be bullied after all, but he had learned to put on an aloof front and hold his head up high. That tended to work, since bullies generally wanted a response. Alexander was sure that they still called him names behind his back, but he could deal with that. He didn't care.
His attitude and his good grades and his lack of friends had given him a reputation of being full of himself. In a way, that was true. He reliably placed top in his year group in every subject, other than gym, and that had inflated his ego. He also wasn't a bad looking young man. Even though he wasn't well liked, a few girls had expressed interest in him before. He'd turned them all down of course.

As he was completing the homework, it didn't occur to him that some of the students took their club activities seriously. Although it was true that the new rule that students had to join at least one athletic and one academic club hadn't been popular, slacking off in the club you'd signed up for wasn't going to go down well with those who took pride in it.

[Minerals]

Beckham thoroughly enjoyed the water. Ever since he was around three years old, waddling by clear sea waves that barely licked his calves, he had been fascinated with the idea of mastering its depths. Swimming. Thirteen years later, with enough medallions to fill a small room, he was confident in his abilities to both teach and compete in sport. The male lightly gasped as he rose with each breaststroke, each powerful pump of his arms and thrust of long, well-endowed legs as he pulsed through the crisp chlorinated pool. In between sides of thick painted stripes on the bottom of the pool floor, swimmers rushed alongside him, the coach blowing his whistle and hurtling encouragements in the background. Swim practise was in full heat, and everyone was working hard. As they should be. As he expected.

Kicking off the opposing wall with a burst of speed, Beckham stormed the water with powerful, elegant strokes before finally reaching its end; the first to climb out victorious with his auburn hair dripping and eyes shining bright ice. Flinging a towel over broad shoulders, Beckham dried himself off whilst idly watching his former competitors— other students, from a variety of backgrounds, some of which he knew from previous years on the comp team, some complete rookies sweating and splashing all over the place. Novices. He almost felt bad for them. Well, they had signed up for swimming as their athletics club elective and by no means was it as easygoing a team as one would've hoped.

Beckham smirked. "Alright boys, form up! You can do it, I know you can. Only four more laps." He clapped his hands sharply, already on his way off to the change rooms with a clipboard tucked under one arm. From there he'd check over the list and ensure everyone who signed up had a check mark next to their name— proof of their being there. Being next year's aspiring captain— the boy vouched his name was already scratched in for senior year, he was practically the team's golden boy and he knew it well— he had zero tolerance for those who didn't take the team seriously. He refused to let any newcomers inflict a bad rep on the club. Lates, skipping. Absolutely unacceptable. Beckham wouldn't stand for it.

And he would hunt the slackers down, come hell or high water. He was intensely competitive and determined to whip the team into shape; newcomer or otherwise. They signed up for this, they were going through it. His striking eyes zoomed in on one name like a telescope. Some Alexander boy. An absentee. And immediately Beckham knew who was next to face some intense shit for skipping his meet. ‘Alexander—’ he presented his full name curtly over the intercom, husked tone slicing the air. ‘—please report to Gym C's aquatic facility at once.' And the tall athlete expected him to be there damn soon. No one ditched swim practise and got away with it.

[BCAD]

Alexander blinked as he heard his name announced over the intercom, but what followed made him roll his eyes. "Seriously? What a pain." The scholarly student looked at the silver watch on his wrist and considered his options. Quite a bit of time had passed and club activities would be over soon. He had just finished the chemistry homework. These two factors made his decision for him. Alexander wagered that it was some overeager committee member that had made the announcement, not a staff member. Therefore, although they couldn't penalise him formally for shirking his club activities (i.e. give him a demerit on his spotless school record or worse, give him detention), they could become bothersome. He had no patience for that and so decided he would do what the announcement said and explain things to whatever jock had called him.

He'd simply explain that he was part of their club only because he had to be, and he was not a gifted swimmer. Him practicing with them was a waste of time that benefitted no one and he'd just take up space that could be used by someone else, someone who might actually (for reasons alien to himself of course) want to splash around in the water.

The youth walked down the school corridor, making his way to Gym C. He was coolly confident that he would convince the fellow student of his point of view. It was a prejudice of his that those who were drawn to sports over their studies must only want to do so because they weren't intelligent enough to choose the latter.

Alexander opened the gym's door and found himself in the changing room. The smell of chlorine immediately infiltrated his nostrils. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, but he wrinkled his nose in distaste all the same. The floor was wet. There were sweaty clothes strewn over benches and moist towels hanging up to dry.

The sixteen year old couldn't see any appeal in this. True, it was probably better than being out in the mud and grass and rain and being tackled by boys twice his size over a football, but it still wasn't anything like a nice warm library filled with books and soft lighting and quiet. He could hear splashing coming from the pool that was past the changing room doors. They seemed to still be practicing. He hoped that whoever had called him didn't really expect him to join in so late. Getting changed into swimwear and getting his neatly parted chestnut brown hair wet for maybe fifteen, twenty minutes of loathsome physical activity was not something he would do willingly.

He folded his arms across his slender chest impatiently for a few moments, something resembling a pout on his face, before he walked forwards, deciding that he may as well find whoever was in charge. He was of a more slight build than most of the others who were in the club, but he was reasonably tall. Nonetheless, he carried himself with an unmistakeable confidence as he entered the practically alien environment of Gym C's aquatic facility.

[Minerals]

Beckham placed the announcement speaker back on its holster with a firm click. His pale eyes were blazing with champion intensity; he sure had plans on giving the audacious skipper a piece of his mind. Still clad in dark swim trunks that clung to slim athletic hips like second skin, he waited for the newest and arguably most troublesome member to arrive, his back pressed against the wall with the red attendance clipboard still in hand. He tapped it casually against the tile. Dull splashes and a slur of prompts and cheering could be heard echoing the large space, Beckham scanning the facility with hawkish precision as he waited as valiantly as he could to unleash a ferocious scolding unto the sorry ears of whomever was next to walk through those pool entry doors.

And not much longer, they opened.

Swiftly enough he found the wrinkle waltzing in as if he hadn't come approximately just nine-minutes-and-thirty-one-seconds before practise officially ended. Beckham managed a frosty smile as he stormed towards the haughty-looking young male and his unnervingly confident disposition, gaze deceitfully casual as he leered over him. One glance, and he could tell the kid wasn't at all an athlete. Disappointment flared inside. He had height on him, nearly as tall as he was, though apart from that, didn't appear to be much potential. The fact irked Beckham. If he was going to pull no-shows the least he could be was jockishly-blessed. His eyes snapped at the attendance sheet. "I take it you're Alexander, yeah?" He paused meaningfully, words casually hissed past full lips, "You realise how late you are?"

[BCAD]

Alexander recognised Beckham and was a little surprised that it had been him on the intercom. He had never paid him much attention before now, so it was odd to think of him as having a position of authority, even if it was just on the school swim team. Although something about him in this environment changed the way Alexander looked at him. Beckham looked utterly in his element. It wasn't just because of the swim trunks or the fact he smelled of chlorine, although that probably played a part, it was more to do with his confidence.

He was not so easily intimidated though and reminded himself that Beckham was just a student like him, they were even the same age. He was acting like he was in charge here, but that was only based on some silly swim club's rules. Alexander reassured himself that he was the superior one between the two of them. He tilted his chin up slightly, defiant and unapologetic. "Yes, I'm aware of that." He replied to Beckham's second question, thinking that the first one was so obvious it didn't need an answer. He folded his arms again and with a slight smirk on his face he continued, "It was quite unnecessary of you to make an announcement. You see, I only signed up to this club because of that new rule that has made it mandatory. I'm a member in formality only. I don't like swimming and I don't intend to be at practice, so save yourself the trouble from making me come down here in the future."

He had been a bit ruder than he'd originally intended, but Beckham's demeanour had irritated him. Who did this guy think he was, trying to tell him off like he was a teacher or something?

[Minerals]

Beckham found little amusement in Alexander's response. The saucy little way he tilted his chin didn't help either. "That so?" The athlete raked deadly ice blues over the newcomer's face, and he lifted a brow, crossing his arms himself as he fully declined the other's challenge. His eyes narrowed condescendingly. "How careful of you. Guess you didn't take into consideration the fact that I don't really give one whether you're here for formality or not, Alex." He let his name drawl purposefully on his tongue, taking a step closer as he continued. "And I don't care if you don't like swimming. Mandatory or not, you sign up for this team, you train like this team. You think you're some exception? Some special little snowflake? Ha." He laughed, chuckles that were deep and throaty and grating. "It's cute that you think that."

Taking a step closer, Beckham's chuckles abruptly came to a halt and he gazed at him with noticeable saltiness. "Because you're not. You're just like everyone else, and you will be treated equally to everyone else. You're not top shit." I am. He paused. "And if you intentionally try to skip a meet again, I will take great personal pleasure in tearing the skin off your ass, do you understand me?" Alexander was in his turf now, and it would do him wise to obey by the rules. And not challenge the real person in charge. Because truthfully, the coach had his moments but he never got like this, and everyone with experience on the team knew well who was the one who really kept them in line.

Beckham was fierce when it came to his sport, and he wasn't about to drop it all for some little geez who thought himself too good to work like everybody else.

[BCAD]

Alexander's eyes widened slightly and before he could stop himself, he found that he had taken a step back for every step Beckham took closer to him. He felt the tiled wall hit him on the back and a slight blush came to his cheeks. Outrage bubbled up inside of the bookish young man at Beckham's condescending tone. His low, husky chuckles. His smile. If he had been a more physical sort of youth, he might have been tempted to smack Beckham across the face. That's what he'd like to do, but alas, that was not how he dealt with things. He favoured using words before fists. Besides, he might have been angry but he knew that hitting the obviously stronger and quicker male would end badly for him.

"How brutish. Just what I'd expect from a meathead like you." Alexander retorted snippily, trying to sound unaffected despite the fact that his back was up against the wall. He didn't allow himself to back down. His pride wouldn't allow it. "Threaten me all you like, I won't be coming back here."

It was possible that Beckham would try to have him kicked out of the club. That would be annoying, since he'd have to join another one, but he'd deal with that if it came to it.

[Minerals]

That was the last straw. Beckham calmly let the clipboard rest flatly against Alexander's chest, using the rectangular slab of plastic to almost press him into the wall. He leaned close, uncomfortably close, before whispering right into his ear, voice hushed and dark. "Such a shame that it's alright too late."

With surprising nonchalance he smirked and grabbed him by the upper arm, walking at a brisk pace with his fingers tightly curled around the slimly crafted flesh. "I think it's about time you learned what happens when you go against your future captain, Alexander." Beckham growled cooly, dragging him off with light forcefulness towards the now-empty change rooms. He pulled him in and towards the sleek though sweaty benches, taking a seat before draping him over his knees. Uncaringly the swimmer shoved the boy forwards, ensuring he was heavily tilted and going absolutely nowhere. His grip was vice. "Now before I get you reduced to a sobbing little baby, let's make one thing clear-- once you make a commitment, you keep it. And you never back out. Welcome to the swim team newb."

[BCAD]

Beckham's breath tickled Alexander's ear as the softly spoken, yet threatening words, were whispered to him. A shiver went down his spine and he opened his mouth to protest Beckham getting so close to him, the athletic youth's lack of attention to personal space unnerving him, but before he could, the swimmer's strong hand wrapped around his upper arm and he was being marched back towards the changing rooms.

"What are you- Let go!" Alexander demanded, his voice faltering a bit as he found himself being led against his will. He hadn't yet worked out what Beckham was going to do to him, but his heart raced and he knew that it would be nothing good. A few moments later, when Beckham sat down on one of the benches and pulled him forward so he was unceremoniously laying across the other boy's firm lap, the realisation suddenly slapped him across the face. A wave of disbelief and outrage swiftly followed and he looked over his shoulder at Beckham, the emotions clear on his face. "Y-You can't be serious! Let me up right now, you idiot!" He demanded, voice raised and cracking slightly, giving away just how surprised he was to be put into such a humiliating position. Despite Beckham's iron hold, he kicked his legs and wriggled his hips and pressed his hands against the floor, anything to try to get free.

It was preposterous, who did this guy think he was? He couldn't be serious... Could he?

He wasn't even a teacher or a coach, he was just another student!

Alexander was not keeping his cool and let out grunts of frustration as his attempts to wriggle free proved useless.

[Minerals]

Beckham gave a slightly bemused glance at the student's fruitless efforts, posture rigid as he waited for his struggling to die down. He'd let him tire himself out. It wasn't as if he were planning on letting the academic haywire go anytime soon. Ignoring his flurry of protests, Beckham solely brought Alexander closer and raised his arm high. He allowed a moment's pause, mostly for the sake of letting him know what was about to commence and for a bit of a scare, before his hand struck the centre of his backside firmly and with a well-resounding slap. The sound alone was particularly vicious, and it was the start of a steady, stinging round, Beckham's hand dutifully tanning the seat of the other's flimsy swim shorts. He was inwardly pleased the latecomer at least had the curtesy to change; it made punishing him a lot easier.

"You will be going to each and every practise we have from this day forwards," Beckham informed in a steely tone, the spanking not once faltering even as he spoke. His palm flattened and popped against the male's clothed cheeks, igniting a merciless fire with precision. He knew how to provide errant teammates motivation, that much was certain. "You will be ready. You will be on time. And if you so much as attempt to skip a single meet, we will have talks. And you won't like them." He yanked his shorts down. "You likely won't be able to sit afterwards either."