Old friends in new places {Arthur}

[Devlin Ainsworth]

After only being on this damned island for an hour and half he had pretty much finished up all first day activities. Devlin had already gotten his list of classes, found his dorm and finished up unpacking his small bag. Unpacking had only been a small task since he brought just a handful of items with him. Two sets of clothes, other than his new and obnoxiously white uniform, a set of charcoal and paper to go along with it, a ball, and a pair of beat up sparring pads. Basically, everything that was Devlin in ten items or less.

Now, he was stuck in his room with boredom slowly creeping over his mind. He bounced around the small space, shifting things and reorganizing his closet. He simply wasn’t sure what to do with himself, not knowing the rules or where he could go was a slight problem. After all, not knowing made breaking the right rules so much harder to do and a lot less fun. Letting out a groan he looked over at the empty half of his room. Silently he wondered if he should set up a prank for his roommate. They did say he was getting one today, didn’t they? Shrugging the thought off he figured it wasn’t worth the energy if the bloke wasn’t going to show up for a few hours.

Glancing around the room, Dev figured that it wouldn’t be a bad time to play around with his powers a bit. Going from having to hide them and practice in secrete to being able to openly use them was a massive change, and one that he likely wouldn’t be able to get used to right away. So, practicing in his dorm was a decent enough start. Taking a breath he tried to envision himself weightless and able to walk on air. Glancing down at his feet he took a step up, and placed his foot on what felt like an invisible step. Grinning widely he took another step until he was a decent height in the air.

He never could get over how it felt to stand in the air, as if there was something under him, and then looking down to see that there was nothing. A low laugh escaped his lips as he pretended he was walking along the wall, his mind completely absorbed in his task at hand. In fact, he was amusing himself to a point where he didn’t take note of the knocking on the door or the sounds of the old hinges opening. It wasn’t until he looked over and saw a familiar boy that his jaw dropped, his concentration breaking causing him to fall flat on the floor. “Bloody hell…” He groaned before flipping himself onto his stomach and looking up, “What the hell are you doing here, Arty?”

[Arthur Bishop]

Arthur was grateful when he was finally released from his orientation to find his dorm. He’d had more than enough social interaction for one day and was looking forward to a hot shower and maybe even turning in early. Walking slowly, he turned a corner and paused. He set down his suitcase and studied the packet of papers they had given him. In all honesty, he had no idea where he was or where the dorms were but he did manage to locate a map among all the paperwork. Relieved, he scanned the paper with a slight frown before picking up his suitcase once more and carrying on down the corridor.

Eventually he found himself standing outside what he assumed was the correct door. He hesitated. Arthur didn’t know what to expect when he opened the door, and he had the strangest feeling that by entering the dorm he was making a commitment to something that he didn’t fully understand. He would have liked to turn away then and there, but there was no use. His fate had already been determined and there was nothing left to do but press on. Tucking his papers under his arm, he fished his key from his pocket and knocked softly on the door before pulling it open.

As soon as the door swung open Arthur was greeted by a solid thud and an unexpectedly familiar voice. Blinking in surprise, he found himself staring down at none of the than his old friend, Devlin. It took Arthur a moment to collect himself before entering the room and closing the door behind him. “I could ask you the same thing, Dev,” he replied, almost cracking a smile. “And. . . what are you doing on the floor?” He discarded his suitcase and offered his friend a hand. Whatever Arthur had expected, this certainly was not it, but he had to admit he was happy to see Devlin. If nothing else he would at least have an old friend in this new place.

[Devlin Ainsworth]

Some could call Devlin shocked, but that didn’t quite cover it. He was more along the lines of dumbfounded as he laid on the floor, staring up at his rival and friend, Arthur Bishop. He was clearly aware that his powers had been found out but he hadn’t been away that Arthur had been shipped off as well. “That’s very true,” Devlin huffed out, shoving himself to his knees as he watched Arthur cast aside his suitcase and offer a hand. Clasping Arthur’s thinner, neatly kept hands in his own callused, bulky paws, Dev made his way to his feet.

“I was practicing walking on the ceiling, if you must know. You distracted me and here we are.” Devlin answered, a crooked smile working its way onto his face. However, as soon as he was steady on his feet he didn’t waste a moment before pulling Arthur towards him with a powerful yank. In another second his other arm was around Arty in a quick bro hug before releasing the other teen, but not before Devlin reached out to ruffle his hair slightly. “It’s good to see you around, I was beginning to think this place was going to be a bore without someone to annoy.”

He took a few steps back until he was causally leaning against the wall. His body appeared perfectly at ease but his eyes were watching Arty, just in case he decided to make any moves of retaliation. Dev couldn’t be caught off guard this soon into their reunion, could he? He tilted his head, popping an eyebrow to his friend, “So, did they feed your parents the same garbage they fed my dad to get you here?” While he was surprised that his friend ended up on the island, the more Devlin thought about it, the more likely it seemed that both of them would be found out instead of just one.

[Arthur Bishop]

Arthur’s almost-smile broke into a real one as he heaved Devlin to his feet. It vanished a split second later when the boy practically assaulted him. “That was. . . unnecessary,” he grumbled, taking a half-step back from the boy and re-adjusting his clothes and then his hair. “And I see you’ve already gotten a head start on the ‘annoying’ bit. Classic Dev. I can’t believe I almost missed you.” Behind the prickle of annoyance, Arthur felt a rush of affection towards his old friend, but he wasn’t about to admit it. The prefect smoothed his hair back into place and collected his suitcase from the floor.

“Yes, that seems likely,” he set the suitcase on his bed as he responded to his roommate’s question. “As you can imagine, they were only too pleased to hear of my acceptance to this most private and prestigious institution.” Arthur gave a small shake of his head as he opened the suitcase and began arranging his clothes in neat piles on the bed’s bare mattress. A gentle cough escaped his lips, but the boy didn’t seem to notice as he continued to fold and refold the clothes with a frown of concentration. “Speaking of parents, how is Coach Ainsworth? I’m surprised that he was comfortable with allowing you to travel this far for school. Though, I suppose, there really is ‘nothing quite like the Ashford experience’,” Arthur quoted the pamphlet the Ashford Agents had brought for his parents. Finally satisfied with the state of his clothes, he turned to face his friend once more. Somehow Devlin seemed even taller than he remembered. Arthur noted that he looked a lot like his father. The white-haired prefect had never met his best friend’s mother, but he supposed his friend must look a bit like her, too. Either way, he was grateful for Devlin’s presence.

[Devlin Ainsworth]

Had someone walked in on the pair and saw the large grin on Devlin’s face, they might have expected it to split his cheeks. But, that was a fairly common expression after his attempts to annoy his old friend and occurred far too often for one to expect their friendship to last. “Aw, come on Arty boy. I was just showing you how much I love you,” His grin slipped into the most pathetic and heartbroken expressions that Devlin had ever managed. And he did use them quite often to get out of the trouble that never seems to be far behind.

The tall boy adjusted his position on the wall, one foot crossing over the other as he began slouching a bit more. His eyebrow settled back into his normal position as Arthur answered the question, bringing up the thought of Devlin’s father. The once hyperactive boy seemed to settle down for a moment, quieting as he glanced away from his friend, “Fine, I suppose. The old man is probably teaching a class, er I guess not. Time zones and all.” Hitting a slightly raw emotion his old, northern accent started to take a spin of his words. “He thought it was best for the future.” While he couldn’t bring himself to say it, it was clear by his tone that the parting had been rather emotion for the two.

Running his callused hand through his hair Devlin tried to shake the feeling, a small grin coming back to his face. “Just means I can cause more trouble,” His words returning to the ‘proper’ accent that he had worked for quite some time to master. “I don’t have to answer to him anymore,” He laughed a bit, trying to get that mischievous glint to return to his eye. “Though, I suppose you’ll try to reel me in.” His dark eyes moved to Arthur’s bag, watching the other teen methodically remove and unpack his neatly tucked away clothing. It almost made Dev laugh when he thought back to how his clothing was more or less just through into a suitcase, and put away in the same fashion.

[Arthur Bishop]

Arthur only managed to roll his eyes at Devlin’s exaggerated, heartbroken expression. This was not Arthur’s first time seeing that face. It was too optimistic to hope that it would be the last. He ignored the other boy’s comment with a slight shake of his head, attempting to round the conversation back in a more appropriate direction. But the moment he brought up Devlin’s father, Arthur regretted it. Devlin seemed to withdraw for a moment, his voice quieting and his eyes trained on nothing in particular. Arthur swallowed uncomfortably as the emotion creaked into his friend’s voice and his natural accent slipped through. The white haired-prefect gave a curt nod of understanding.

“Sorry,” he muttered without elaborating on what he was sorry for. He let the word stand for itself. Of course, he hadn’t meant to upset his friend by bringing up his father. Arthur had grown close to Devlin and Coach Ainsworth during his time at school, and they had practically become his second family. He knew how close his friend was with his father, but the topic was bound to come up eventually and a moment later Devlin seemed to recover his usual, teasing personality.

“Ah-ah,” Arthur tutted, “have you forgotten that you’re a prefect now? How can you expect to enforce the rules that you’re so keen on ignoring?” The statement might have come across a joke had it not been for the pointed look of warning Arthur flashed his friend. Crossing his arms over his chest, Arthur gave a quiet sigh and shook his head. “I’ve been trying to ‘reel you in’ for years with little success. I doubt I’ll have any better luck here.” The almost-smile returned to his face. “But that won’t stop me from trying.”

[Devlin Ainsworth]

With discomfort swelling in his chest, Devlin wasn’t quite sure how to express it or even make it vanish. Out of the two, he would have preferred the second. He was never one to deal with emotions flat out, he’d rather just store them away and beat them out later. Yet, there was something about that specific cord involving his father that he just couldn’t suppress it so easily. Perhaps it was because it had always been his father and him against the world. The bond that they held had been strained when his father made the decision to ship him off to Ashford, separating the two, and Devlin hadn’t quite been able to deal with that fact yet.

Swallowing uncomfortably at Arthur’s apology, Devlin nodded slowly. “It’s fine, I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” He offered a small smile as his gaze started to drift back to Arty. Devlin also knew how much his own father meant to Arthur, while the pair were unlikely friends they had managed to fit rather well as each other’s compliments and his father encouraged the pair. Devlin had long since suspected the Arty never had any real bonding time with his parents so he was happy to share to, knowing full well what it could be like to not have a parent fully present.

Drawing his thoughts away from his father, Dev gave himself a mental shake. Rolling his shoulder, he quickly forced himself back to his normal teasing ways. A smirk came to his lips, “Becoming a prefect means you get plenty of perks and allows a little more wiggle room since those blokes expect you to be doing your work and not the opposite.” He made a point to ignore the look that Arthur was giving him, knowing full well that his old friend would be one of the few prefects that would be on his back. “You’ll be the only one really trying and I expect you to work your arse off,” A near challenging tone came into Devlin’s voice as he popped an eyebrow to Arty.

[Arthur Bishop]

Arthur gave a curt nod at Devlin’s response. The small gesture would be enough to seal the understanding between them. Arthur was not an expressive person, but Devlin always seemed to know what he was thinking. It was odd that two people who appeared to be such opposites understood each other so well, though the more Arthur thought about it the more sense it made. On the surface the two couldn’t have been any more different. Devlin was outspoken and teasing while Arthur was about as socially stimulating a wet sand. But beneath the superficial differences was a competitive streak and a mutual sense of loneliness that pulled them together.

In conversation Arthur rarely brought up his parents. When he reflected on his childhood they always appeared in the background, showing up only often enough to remind him of their expectations or to drag him away from his studies to some wretchedly dull dinner party where he would smile and shake hands and only speak when spoken to and remember not to fidget and use the proper fork and pretend like he doesn’t notice the other child kicking him from across the table just because she knew he wasn’t allowed to do anything about it. . . he exhaled slowly. As he grew older he began to think he’d never had parents at all. Just employers and a revolving cast of staff who treated him more like a product than a person. He had never been a child. He was something to be pulled out of the closet along with the fine china and put on display when there was company. Over the years he had begun to feel like he was made from the same porcelain as the plates.

But then he met Devlin. Of course, the two had hated each other at first, but Arthur couldn’t deny that there was something exciting about hating someone. The other boy was crude and crass and everything that Arthur had been taught not to be. They were matched in intelligence and athleticism which only made their disdain for one another even greater. But then something strange happened. Hatred turned to rivalry, rivalry turned to respect, respect turned to understanding, and before anyone knew it the two were nearly inseparable. It seemed impossible that they would end up here, halfway around the world but still together as if even God felt it would be too cruel to keep them apart.

“Dev,” he rolled his eyes and smiled in spite of himself, “I couldn’t live with myself if I failed to meet your expectations.”

[Devlin Ainsworth]

At times his friendship with Arthur was quite odd. The two were opposites in nearly every way, save for their skills in a ring. Even their different areas of expertise in school were different while they maintained the same level of intelligence. One would assume that two opposites would never work out and only cause more issues when they interact, which is exactly how it was at first but over time something had clicked between the two of them. They were each what the other was lacking. Devlin, the more outgoing and rash child who needed someone to reel him in and add a bit of sophistication in his life. Arthur, the uptight business prodigy who needed a bit of run and excitement thrown his way.

One would think that the pair wouldn’t be able to understand each other but in fact it was quite the opposite. That was evident in the way that Arthur responded to Devlin closing up. Instead of pushing and attempted to pull the normally talkative boy out he simply let the subject die, allowing his friend to recompose himself. An act that Devlin was grateful for. Devlin had often returned the favor in the past at any point when Arthur’s parents would come to light. The white haired prefect never seemed a fan to share his personal history with the world, which Devlin more than understood and merely connected the dots for himself instead of pressuring his friend.

Every now and then they brought out something a little different in each other. Those were the times that Devlin would tend to get a tad over excited, like the very enthusiasm building in his chest as he saw a small smile form on Arthur’s lips. “Carful, smile too much and your face might crack.” He shot at his friend, his own grin widening. “But I know, I’m so awesome it’s hard not to want to rise to my level and meet my expectations of the world,” Devlin casually leaned back against a wall, his hands folding over his chest as if he were the coolest thing on the planet and somehow managed to maintain that same maddening grin.