oc dynamics month: ex friends
This is the first chapter of a fanfic I'm currently writing about my ocs Darren and Pierre. They went to the same primary school but then Pierre changed to an expensive private boarding school that now, six years later, Darren has gotten a scholarship for.
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Tell me, would you pack up all your bags, stay true to North?
You're the only one I'd do this for
Red, red desert, heal our blues
I'd dive deeper for you
Darren nods his head in sync with the music as his mother pulls up towards the school. There's a long driveway leading to it, lined with trees. He looks up and catches a glimpse of one of the residential houses.
He still can't believe it.
For the last six years his parents have worked and worked, saved up money for this. Two years at one of the most prestigious schools in the world. He'd only gotten in because a scholarship spot had miraculously become free. They still had to pay half the fees themselves, but it was incredible luck anyway.
But that's not all that Darren can't believe. He'll be going to school with him.
Pierre. That black-haired blue-eyed beautiful boy who had unwillingly had to turn his back on him all those years ago. Darren's eyes sweep over the parking space in front of the school, trying to convince himself he'll find him.
If he even wants anything to do with him anymore, Darren reminds himself.
Since primary school, he'd barely seen him, the younger boy being caught up in riding or surfing or figure skating or, god forbid, attending a school that most people could never even dream of stepping foot into.
His mother looks at him and reaches out to stroke his cheek.
“You alright, Ri?” She asks with a smile. Her hands are warm, and Darren lets himself lean into her for a second, still feeling safe in the shadow of the big tree they'd parked next to.
“Yeah, Mama.” Darren looks up at her, mirroring her smile. “I'm ready.”
They get out and Darren grabs his bags. There's small crowds of people around, students mixed with teachers and parents saying goodbye. He can't make out the faces of anybody he knows.
He reminds himself that that's part of the point and shoulders his backpack. His suit trousers don't fit perfectly and his blazer's uncomfortable, but he plasters on a confident smile as the scholarships administrator spots him.
A firm hand extended, he greets Darren and he can't keep himself from noticing once again how hot that man is.
“Darren Rabiou, pleasure to see you've found your way.” The admin greets him with a bright smile.
Darren shakes his hand and the man continues: “I'll show you your room first, then I'll introduce you to your buddy.”
He was the same man they'd reached out to now over a year ago, when the scholarship spot had opened up. The same man who had accompanied his application interviews and who had, half a year ago, shown them the school for the first time on a visit.
Darren grabbed the last of his things, stopping his mother from taking them, and together, they followed him inside.
“We like to have our new students share a room with our more experienced students, to help them adjust.” He explains as they make their way through the big lobby down into one of the halls.
He knocks on the door twice, sharp and clean. “Your roommate has already arrived, I'm assuming.”
Darren finds himself praying it'll be someone nice, a tiny part of him hoping it'll be Pierre. But that would be too unrealistic, right?
The door opens and a figure steps out halfway, glancing at the administrator once before asking him: “Is something the matter?”
Darren stares at him. Piercing blue eyes catch his and he watches as Pierre goes still for just a second, before regaining his composure.
“I heard a scholarship spot opened up.” He addresses the administrator again, speaking carefully, controlled.
“It has,” the admin answers. “This is Darren Rabiou, I'd like you and Ian McColgan to assist him for the first few days, introduce him to Rosenberg.”
Pierre takes a breath before breaking the tension with a smile. Still controlled and not entirely real, but it seems to signal to the adults that they need not worry.
“I trust you will advise him and make sure he feels at home here, Beaumont.” The admin adds.
Pierre nods and responds charismatically: “Of course, sir.”
The administrator smiles, and leaves them with one last nod.
Darren is still frozen on the spot, and only moves his eyes from Pierre when his mother pulls him close, forcing their eyes to meet with her hand on his neck.
“You behave, and do all your work, okay?” She says urgently. “And don't think just because we aren't here that you can do whatever you want-”
“I know, Mama.” Darren sighs, trying to pull away. “Okay, okay, you can go now.” He attempts to get the message through with a pointed stare but his mother simply pulls him into another hug.
Darren lets himself lean into it for a second and tries to ignore the fact that Pierre is no longer standing in the door, having gone back to unpacking his own things.
His mother holds him close, and when she finally pulls back, presses a thick kiss to his cheeks. Darren wrinkles his nose in embarrassment but kisses her cheek back.
She leaves after one more final “behave”, and Darren is left staring at a half open door to a room he'll have to spend sharing with the boy he's been in love with for six years.He sighs and grabs his bags.
The door opens the rest of the way and Pierre shoots him an indecipherable look. He holds the door open as Darren lets his things drop onto the floor and for the first time, lets his eyes sweep over the room.
There's two big beds, one parallel with the wall with the headboard facing the window, the other parallel to the window, facing the wall.
There's two desks, and more space than he expected for a shared room. A bathroom door and two big wardrobes.
It's bigger than his room at home.
Darren takes a deep breath, and is pulled out of his thoughts abruptly as Pierre lets himself drop on his bed.
He looks over at him with a curious expression.
“It's a lot to take in for a first timer.” He admits, then adds with a smile. “But you should get to unpacking, I have shit to do and I don't want to spend my time waiting for you.”
That's the most words he's said to him since walking away six years ago. Darren is stunned for a few seconds more before he pulls his gaze away from him and nods.
“Right, yeah, of course.” He mumbles, dropping his backpack onto the window facing bed and opening the empty one of the wardrobes.
His heart pounds as he turns away from Pierre, wondering whether he's watching him or not, and unsure whether he even wants him to.
Pierre doesn't say anything more as Darren unpacks, and when he's finally done, he has rearranged his thoughts to form a somewhat adequate sentence.
“You know-” Darren starts as he turns to look at Pierre.
A knock on the door interrupts him. “Turí, get your ass up!”
Pierre's face breaks out into a smile. A real one, not sharp edges or artificially constructed. He's up in seconds, opening the door before the person on the other side can start another sentence.
“Don't let Marcus catch you swearing, he'll kill you.” Pierre says and Darren watches as a girl steps into the room. Blonde curly hair braided down to her shoulders and beautiful blue-green eyes. Emmeline, Darren recalls her name.
He recalls one more detail. Her mother had died, a few years after Pierre had changed schools. Her eyes catch his and it takes a few seconds but then she blinks in recognition and her mouth opens in surprise.
“Oh my god,” she turns to Pierre. “New scholarship kid is Darren?”
Pierre sighs and nods.
“They stuck you with him? God, en téra! (so sorry!)” She draws her vowels on a word Darren doesn't understand.
“They didn't stick me with him- it's fine.” Pierre tries to salvage.
“Right.” Emmeline looks at him unbelievingly before she finally turns to Darren. “Very sorry, where are my manners?”
She extends a hand out and Darren shakes her hand as she says: “Hi. Emmeline, we've met before.”
“Yes,” Darren stumbles over his words. “I'm aware.”
Emmeline gives him a look up and down one more time and then turns back to Pierre. “I'm rooming with Shiloh and Aria is one room over, you have to come by and save my ass before they kill me or each other.”
Pierre chuckles and says: “You got yourself into that, I'm not saving you from it. Besides, I have shit to do.”
Emmeline snorts, “Right, like what?”
Pierre turns to look at her and lowers his voice a little. He mumbles something Darren can't understand, and a smile spreads over Emmeline's face.
“Well then I shan't stop you.” She grins and presses their cheeks together once before leaving without sparing Darren another glance.
“Jesus.” Darren sighs when she's gone. “She's uh…”
Chaotic and a little crazy and way too involved in everyone's business?” Pierre supplies with a slight grin, “Yeah. That's kind of her thing."
He sits down, grabs his phone and types in something, a ringing tone starting up. Pierre starts speaking what Darren thinks he can identify as dutch to whoever's on the other end.
Darren lays down on the bed for a second and breathes a relieved sigh. He closes his eyes and lets the first impression sink in.
He's sharing a room with the boy he has a crush on, a boy who, in the last six years, has somehow become even closer to being a pro athlete, and who looks it.
There's multiple of Pierre's friends at the school, his sister too. From what he can gather, Pierre is a popular guy. And he, very much, is not.
Just the way Emmeline had referred to him, ‘the new scholarship kid’, like the words were unfamiliar on her tongue, like he wasn't something that happened here, like they'd talked about it before.
He doesn't remember much about how Emmeline had been when she was younger, but then again he doesn't know much about her in the first place.
Pierre, however. He remembers his smile, a few teeth missing. He remembers the way he always jumped from the highest trees on the playground, not eager to impress but instead eager to do.
He remembers kissing him on the cheek and Pierre kissing him back on the lips, all in a house so big that it made Darren and his whole world feel so small.
He opens his eyes and glances at Pierre, laying on his bed. His teeth all bright and perfect, his face relaxed, invested in conversation. His lips. Darren stocks. His lips, so red and full and soft. He watches as Pierre runs his tongue over them, once, twice.
Darren feels something in his abdomen stir and abruptly looks away. His face blushes slightly, and he prays it's not enough to give him away.
The conversation on the other side of the room slows and then stops. Pierre lays his phone on the bedside table and looks over at him with that look again.
Darren can't figure out what Pierre feels when he looks at him like this, lips laid together but not pressed, eyes blinking just like they're supposed to, flicking over him with something that could be curiosity or confusion.
Pierre takes a deep breath and quietly says: “If we're around Emmeline again, don't ask about her mother.” Decisive, clear, and painfully impersonal.
“Got it.” Darren responds. Pierre gets up slowly and stretches his arms. Darren pointedly looks away from the way his shirt hitches up.
He announces: “I'm gonna go take a shower.” and disappears into the bathroom.
Darren's eyes still stare at the spot he was standing in, for longer than he should.
When he pulls himself away, he decides he needs a distraction and pulls up a game on his phone.
And very very slowly, his heartbeat calms down.
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Aren't they so cute and awkward????? I love them. There's a second chapter out here on ao3 and third chapter will probably be out today!
I love writing my ocs are harsh and distant and clinically impersonal, it's so funnnnnn
