|Nothing Like the Sun
Author: snappleducated PM
Casey and Derek attempt to be a couple. This involves browsing for chastity belts on eBay, traumatizing the entire family, dubious school projects, seedy motel rooms, the abuse of aspirin, failed seductions, and even more pancakes.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Derek V. & Casey M. - Words: 4,557 - Reviews: 42 - Favs: 84 - Follows: 7 - Published: 05-05-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5949211
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Entitled: Nothing Like the Sun
Fandom: Life With Derek
Length: 5,000 words
Disclaimer: I don't own Life With Derek and etc.
Notes: IF I REWRITE THIS ONE MORE TIME, I AM GOING TO PUNCH SOMEONE IN THE FACE. PROBABLY MYSELF.
Dedication: This is my goodbye and thank you present to all the friends I made while I was writing for LWD fandom. Ya'll are eclectic. I should probably figure out what that word means before I use it in a sentence.
Summary: Sequel to "Always Tomorrow." Casey and Derek attempt to be a couple. This involves browsing for chastity belts on eBay, traumatizing the entire family, dubious school projects, seedy motel rooms, the abuse of aspirin, failed seductions, and even more pancakes. — DerekCasey
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
— William Shakespeare
"I'm coming over," Casey announced, "My estimated arrival time is approximately twenty minutes."
"Weirdo," Derek muttered, and hung up. Casey beamed. Relationships were a tricky business, after all, and she had done extensive research before (secretly) committing herself to this one.
Couples needed distance! And so Casey had taken the necessary measures to ensure that they lived five miles apart, and set down a rule that they should call each other before visiting. So far, her record was flawless! Derek, however, seemed to go out of his way to kick her rules in the head.
Not that this was especially surprising.
Casey arrived early, and so spent the next five minutes loitering around the parking lot, a mountain of papers under one arm. Her determined campaign to appear independent was cut short as Derek leaned out the window, and yelled at her to stop being stupid.
Which wasn't very nice.
When he opened the door, she held out her hand and said, quite formally, "Good afternoon."
Derek looked disgusted, "Do you greet all your boyfriends this way?"
Casey slapped a hand over his mouth, wide-eyed, "Not so loud!"
Derek rolled his eyes, but let her push her way in. She deposited her papers gingerly on the foot of his bed, "I require your assistance in a scholarly pursuit."
Derek edged towards the door.
"It's just a survey!" Casey squawked, and snapped her fingers at the chair, "Look, I'll even read the questions for you!"
"Oh, but I have a sudden desire to scrape gum off desks!"
"Number one!" Casey shouted over him, pencil poised, "Have you ever contracted a sexually transmitted disease?"
"Wha--" Derek blinked, "Wait, what class is this for?"
Casey made a note, "Number two! How many sexual partners have you had?"
Derek narrowed his eyes, "This isn't even for a class, is it? This is just your weird germ thing!"
Casey made another note, and then swatted at him as he tried to wrestle the clipboard from her, "It's for modern social sciences! Now, number three! Have you ever engaged in oral sex?"
Derek crossed his arms, and--smiled nastily, "I don't understand the question."
Casey looked up, "What do you mean you don't understand the question?"
"I mean, I want you to explain it to me."
Casey opened her mouth, "It's a form of intercourse when you..." she trailed off, and blushed violently, "I can't believe you!"
"Derek!" Casey wailed, "How could you compromise my honor like that?!"
"All I'm saying is that I'd like a more hands-on approach."
"A more hands-on approach," Casey mimicked scathingly, and threw her clipboard at him. It missed, and one of the trophies on his shelf paid for her poor aim. Derek raised his eyebrows.
"See what happens when you get violent?"
Casey launched herself onto the bed, pressed her face into her pillow, and screamed.
Only, there was...What. WHAT.
The elastic band on her underwear snapped against her skin. She sat up, indignant and open mouthed.
"I have reflected upon my actions and sincerely regret them," Derek waved a hand, then flicked his index finger at the tip of her nose, "So, I'll just leave this in your very capable hands and be on my way, yeah? Try not to break any more of my stuff."
And so, grinning smugly, he strode casually through her door with a cocky whistle on his lips.
And then she got a very bad feeling.
The solution was simple.
Obviously, this behavior could not continue. It was demoralizing and inappropriate and...and, bad! Casey shook her head, her mind made up, and dug out her cell phone. Technically, she wasn't even going back on her word! Derek was the one who needed to be fixed!
Double meaning completely intended.
"Paul," Casey began without greeting, "I think Derek's in heat."
Paul did not reply. There was a faint smashing noise, and Casey looked around in alarm. Derek only had so many trophies, after all.
And then came the dial tone. Casey scowled. This really wouldn't do.
Silly Paul with his little character building exercises!
She redialed promptly, and was treated to a breathless voice message explaining that Paul had decided to vacation in Nebraska for an indeterminate period of time.
So, okay, Paul was a traitor.
Casey vindictively disallowed him from the privilege of babysitting her future children.
Casey paced the perimeter of Derek's tiny dorm room, thinking furiously. She should have anticipated this. She should have restrained herself from ripping out the 'intimacy' section of all her guidebooks.
She had a sudden, vivid mental image, and so was forced to sit down and put her head between her knees. What was wrong with her?!
But, no. No, she had to approach this...calmly and rationally. Measures would have to be taken. She would gently rebuke Derek for his previous conduct, and then open the floor so that they could establish some ground rules. Casey latched onto this plan with equal parts delusion and determination.
And so satisfied, she got to her feet...at the exact time Derek wandered back in, toting a bag of groceries. He began to smile, remembered he was actually evil, and instead made a face at her.
"What're you still doing here?"
Casey was momentarily distracted.
Oh. Yes. Of course.
"I do not appreciate you sexually pressuring me," she said, loudly and clearly so he would understand. There! To the point, honest, without room for misinterpretations...good. Good!
Derek had to set down his groceries he was laughing so hard.
"What?!" Casey demanded, and even stomped her foot, because she was serious, "I don't!"
Derek, still sniggering, retrieved his bags, "Yeah, whatever."
"I don't think I can talk to you until you've apologized," Casey announced, and attempted to flounce past him.
She stopped at the doorway.
"Aren't you leaving?"
"I'm waiting for you to apologize," she snapped, and then added, "And don't talk to me."
Derek studied her for a moment, and something wicked crossed his face. Casey was aghast. Things...were not going as planned.
"I'm going home for the weekend," Derek said casually. His back was to her, and she watched his shoulder blades curve as he shelved his food. "You want to come?"
Casey nodded. Derek didn't turn around, and so didn't see this. She coughed pointedly.
"Alright, I'll tell them you said hi," he shrugged. Casey hopped impatiently, scuffed her feet, and began nodding again when Derek turned around. He started pushing her towards the door, and even had the gall to ruffle her hair and kiss her forehead, "Hey, don't mention it."
He shut the door. Casey whipped out her phone.
"I'm coming over. Estimated arrival time is five seconds."
"Not home. What d'you want?"
"I want to go with. Also, you should listen to me because I'm smarter than you."
Derek opened the door. "I have to go. The president of the celibacy club is here."
"I am not!" Casey snarled, and hit him when he kissed her forehead again.
Chastity belts were surprisingly expensive.
Her modern social sciences professor glanced over her computer screen casually, "An interesting approach."
"A necessary one," Casey growled, and placed her bid.
When they were perhaps ten minutes from home, Derek took a hard right. Casey blinked.
"What're we doing?"
"Well, it's not like we can sleep at the house," he said, in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice that was obviously meant to sound virtuous and completely without Ulterior Motives. "Marti's in your old room, Ed's in mine. So this is the next best thing," he explained, and finished backing into the parking space. Casey studied the motel. It looked...clean.
"Okay!" she cheeped, and reached down to grab her bag, "We're only sleeping here, after all!"
Derek stopped, and looked at her in shock. She slammed the door closed, and raised her eyebrows at him. "What?"
"You look guilty."
"Huh," he switched off the ignition, "I usually am."
Casey accepted this statement with good grace. It was very true.
She wandered after him to reception, staring vacantly at a painting on the wall until she realized that the one of the women had two elbows, at which point Derek had finished, and was dragging her four, matchingly pink bags down the hall behind him. He stopped, tossed her a keycard, and let himself into one of the rooms.
Casey wound up stepping on his heels, as he had stopped without warning.
"I said a queen."
She peered over his shoulder at the set of twins. "Oh, it's fine," she soothed, but was oddly touched that he'd been willing to spend a little extra on her.
Derek sent her another strange, almost off-balanced look. "Yeah...?"
Seeing as he wasn't about to move any time soon, Casey marched around him, tossed her things onto the bed nearest the window, and turned around expectantly. "So, where are you staying? Room next door?"
There was a very long pause.
"Oh, for the love of god," Derek muttered.
Casey had absolutely no idea what he was talking a--
"YOU CHAUVINISTIC PIG!" she screamed, and tried to kill him with her basket of complimentary toiletries.
"I can't believe you," she hissed not ten minutes later, once they'd packed themselves back into the car.
Derek widened his eyes at her significantly, "Casey, I took you to a motel. What else were you expecting?"
So he kind of had a point.
"DON'T MAKE FUN OF MY INNOCENT NATURE!" Casey wailed, and hid her face in her hands. God. God, what was he thinking?! Derek wasn't supposed to act like a--like a stupid boy! He was supposed to be chivalrous and virtuous and gentlemanly and--and sex was weird!
Oh, it all made so much sense now.
Casey straightened, as she felt her heart swell with pity, "Okay, Derek. I understand. I have been unfair to you. You are clearly just ignorant because I am better educated than you are."
Derek was staring at her like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to laugh hysterically or rip all of his hair out.
Casey settled into her lecture mode. "Now. To set aside your apparent misconception--sex is bad!"
"No! Derek! I'm trying to prolong your life here!" she took a steadying breath, "Because, okay, I had this lecturer come in, and she shook everyone's hand before getting started, only then she told us that she hadn't washed her hands after using the bathroom."
"Casey, I'm going to make you walk."
"And it's a metaphor! A metaphor for germs. Germs which are, hello, transmitted by sex, and let me tell you, having intercourse nowadays is like--like liking a hypodermic needle you found in a New York trashcan!"
"I'm serious," Derek pointed a finger at her, "Get out of my car."
"No, Derek! I can't! I don't want you to make bad decisions and infect the toilet and kill everyone! Are you listening to me at all?! This is serious! It's AN EPIDEMIC!"
Derek grabbed her by the shoulders, looked her in the eye, and said, "Casey, your pants are riding down and your underwear is lame."
"...I need the paper bag."
They rang the bell. George answered the door. Several varying stages of panic flashed across his face as he saw them. It was a very welcoming experience.
"Oh," he said, in a very distant sort of way, "I'm not going to be watching the game tonight, am I?"
"Wait, you didn't know we were coming?" Casey sucked in a gasp of horror, and smacked Derek's arm.
"Well, I mean--of course you're welcome! It's your house. But. I just thought. Not together."
And then Casey remembered something important.
"Oh!" she laughed hysterically, "Oh, you know! We called a--a truce. To our feud! You know Derek and I! J-just can't get along! Ha!"
George moaned pitifully.
Derek seemed flatly unimpressed with the both of them. "Dad, food."
"Oh..."George trailed off sadly, "And I was really looking forwards to that meatloaf..."
Derek immediately dropped all of Casey's bags and made a beeline towards the kitchen.
"Oh! Derek dropped my bags!" Casey shouted, just to be sure that the neighbors (who were undoubtedly listening) wouldn't get suspicious, "Yet another display of the intense antagonism between us! Th-that cad!" This time around she ended up choking on her own laughter, and coughed pathetically while George pounded on her back.
Derek looked up, spoon handle sticking merrily from between his lips, "Cad's are pretty successful with women, from what I hear," he mentioned casually. Casey zoomed to the window, stuck her head outside, and amended.
"A circumcised cad!"
Casey was faced with a dilemma. While she had managed to secure her own room, her brilliant plan of total segregation had not...proceeded as she had hoped.
To be specific, Derek had taken all of her bags hostage.
And that was just.
Seriously, he was getting so many boyfriend demerits. She would definitely be revisiting this incident when she wrote up his performance review.
She burst into the room with great splendor. Derek finished pulling on his sock. "Hey, lady, what if I had someone over?"
She ignored this, throwing open the closet and then lying flat on the floor to peer underneath his bed. She knew he had them.
"Derek, I demand you return my luggage."
"My office is closed."
"Give back my stuff, or I'll--"
"You can leave a message with my secretary and I'll consider getting back to you."
"--and throw it to the sharks."
Casey began folding his clothes.
"You left them in the car, nutcase."
Casey flushed, and started for the door.
"Except this one," Derek cooed, and waved a pastel duffle in her face. Casey processed this, made a wild snatch, and was driven off mercilessly.
"I've already looked," he pointed out. Casey snarled, and threw herself forwards, essentially crawled her way over him, teetered for a moment on one unsteady hand, then reached too far and crashed forwards, nose bumping painfully against his shoulder.
Casey clasped her hands over her nose and yelped, eyes tearing up.
After a moment she regained her composure enough to realize that Derek was looking straight at her, and that she was still lying on top of him. She tensed. She could feel his heart beating, almost exactly out of sync with her own.
She licked her lips...
...and lunged, snatched her bag away, and rolled to her feet in a single, graceful movement. She spun, grinning, and Derek was following her upright, eyes flicking in confusion.
She felt immensely proud of herself.
Derek did not look especially happy.
Actually, he was...walking towards her. And that was not good. Also there was sort of no room between the two of them and despite her attempts to melt through the wall, it just wasn't cooperating and then Derek was sort of, um, behaving inappropriately. Her last line of defensive composure dropped to the floor.
"What're you doing!?" Casey squeaked, and tried to climb onto the ceiling, "What're you--oh, god! Derek! This isn't covered in my relationship manuals at all!"
"You are deranged and instable and as soon as I figure out what sort of mental illness you're suffering from, I will...something!"
"You're right," Derek agreed, and--and why was he boxing her in like that?! "I'm simply incorrigible."
Casey faltered, "What. Oh. Yes. I mean, yes! You are. Horrid. I just--is it hot in here? Is--DEREK WHERE DID YOUR CLOTHES GO?"
Oh, she didn't like the way his face angled so that he was looking up at her through those eyelashes and...
Seriously, was the air-conditioning broken or something?!
"I was hot."
"I DON'T CARE." Casey wailed, now clasping her hands over her eyes, "What's wrong with you?!"
There was a terribly long pause, and Casey didn't quite dare to open her eyes. Her insides turned over guiltily, "Derek?"
"Are you still there?"
"Oh," a long, suspicious pause, "Are you naked?"
Casey opened her eyes with a sense of great relief, and then screamed until Derek's hand cut her off.
"What?" Derek grinned, slowly, and--she was not even going to think about the word 'suggestive.' As of now, that word was no longer permitted. She would destroy all evidence of its existence.
"You're even more naked!" Casey whispered hoarsely when he moved his hand. She glanced down, shuddered, and then starred determinedly at the ceiling, "Oh, gross! Naked people with socks! Ew. Ew. EW!"
She was fairly certain that Derek rolled his eyes. However. Just because he was, like, six months older than her and a guy did not mean that Derek could just push her around and intimidate her with his--bare chest. Yeah, right. Like she'd never seen a naked guy before.
There were anatomy books, after all!
Of course, most of the models knew how to undress properly, and not leave their socks still on. That was just...disgusting. It was just so Derek.
Casey squared her shoulders, and poked him in the chest. Hard. It actually sort of hurt. "You," she said, in her most menacing voice. "Are trying to make my compromise my feminist ideals!"
Derek raised his eyebrows. "Well, golly," he said after a pause, "My brilliant scheme...thwarted."
Casey crossed her arms proudly. "Ha! Please. I know how to deal with people like you."
"Yeah?" Derek hummed, shifting so his weight pressed her securely into the wall. "And just how much experience do you have in dealing with...people like me?" he finished, mouth somehow tracing the shell of her ear, breath hot and tickling down the side of her neck. Casey squirmed compulsively.
"Loads," she hissed out through her teeth. "More than--more--EEK."
What was he doing?!
Casey shoved him and snapped her arms across her chest and sunk through about thirty different shades of red because--
Because she wasn't wearing a bra. And Derek knew. And Derek knew this because he'd just taken off her shirt and--when had that even happened and--
Was that a siren?!
"OH MY GOD," Casey yelped, then slapped a hand across Derek's mouth, "They know!"
Derek, it seemed, was very good at conveying his exasperation without actually doing anything. Casey gripped his bare shoulders, state of undress now forgotten, "Derek," she whispered, horrified, "We're fugitives."
Derek stared at her for a second, something funny flicking through his eyes, and she felt his mouth curve under her palm, before he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her hand down. He took a very small step forwards, so their legs tangled together, then leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth.
Casey's brain mimicked the death of a piñata.
"Not quite," he said lowly, not quite looking at her, and--she wanted him to look at her, so...so he should.
And then neither of them were moving because that was definitely the sound of a door opening, and then a soft, wet thump, as though someone had just dropped their tuna sandwich, and--
Casey mustered her courage, and peeked over Derek's shoulder.
She and Edwin made eye contact. They had a moment of what Casey felt to be intense, familial understanding.
"IN MY ROOM?!" Edwin screamed, "IN. MY. ROOM?!"
"What?!" Derek snarled, spinning away from her with--and, yeah, if Edwin wasn't running before he sure was now, "It's my room!" Derek yelled, "Hey! Hey, I can still stick your head down the toilet! Ed!"
Edwin screamed wordlessly, voice cracking through at least three different octaves, as he fled to tell their parents.
"IT WAS SO AWFUL."
"Edwin," Nora said in her Mom Voice, "There's no need to shout."
"REALLY?" George wailed, "WHEN WOULD BE A GOOD TIME?"
"Everyone!" Derek cut in smoothly, "You're misunderstanding."
Casey, sensing that this was going nowhere good, did what seemed like the most reasonable option available to her and crawled underneath the table.
"Casey is thinking of joining a nudist colony, and I was helping her practice," Derek explained in a tone that bordered on pious.
"GO TO YOUR ROOM." George called bullshit.
"HE'LL JUST DEFILE IT ALL OVER AGAIN," Edwin protested. Nora was pounding a bottle of aspirin to her hand with alarming urgency.
Casey tried to think of her happy place. It was, unfortunately, inhabited by a lot of panicked, shouting people.
Derek stuck his head under the table, "Are you coming out?"
"No," she said petulantly, "I'm just going to sit here until I die, actually."
"Okay," Derek said, and then climbed in to join her. She pushed feebly at his legs.
Derek ignored her so he could shout at Edwin. Casey sulked, and retreated into a ball. Because...Derek. Derek was a very bad influence and his knees were warm.
"Casey, Derek," Nora said tiredly, "Please come out from under the table. We're going to discuss this as adults."
Derek and Casey looked at each other in terror.
"We're not mad at you," Nora tried again, comfortingly. Casey felt like her throat had just been filled with glue. Derek--
Was this really the time?
Casey removed his hand from her thigh. Firmly.
"ACTUALLY, I AM VERY UPSET," George and Edwin broke in, though this hardly seemed important anymore because Derek--Derek was--was cheating, and. Bad.
Casey smacked away his hand, again, and started compiling a list of the many ways she would hurt him.
"I really don't think they'd notice," he smirked. Casey glared.
"Do you think it's because I sent him to a public high school?"
Dinner was kind of awkward.
Probably because Derek kept on playing footsie with the wrong people.
"I CAN'T SIT IN THIS CHAIR ANYMORE," Edwin announced, and Derek sighed dejectedly into his mashed potatoes. Nora rummaged desperately through the medicine cabinet.
"This seems highly counterproductive," Lizzie began, the formal and removed clip of her speech definitely strained, "Perhaps it would be wiser to just...kick them out of the house?"
"Kick him out of the house!" Casey squawked.
"Please kick me out of the house," Derek joined in, hands clasping together in earnestness.
"Enough!" George yelled, and they all shouted at each other a bit more.
"This sucks!" Marti screamed amidst the chaos, "Why can't you just get a hotel room like normal people!?"
Casey stared at her younger step-sister in shock.
"Believe me, I tried," Derek muttered.
Edwin dropped the salad bowl.
"Separate beds!" Casey cut in hastily. Derek grumbled.
"Yeah, because they screwed up the order--"
Casey threw her glass of water at him. He dripped, unimpressed and unamused. Casey bit her lip.
"Casey, get Derek a towel," Nora sighed. Somehow, her even, calm voice managed to sooth the room's tension. Casey's face slowly burned, and she gripped the glass tightly, feeling stupid and small.
She was also having a small personal crisis, as a seemingly unavoidable chain of events blasted through her head. Derek was going to leave her because she wouldn't sleep with him and poured water over his head, not to mention her complete refusal to reveal their relationship to their parents (although that point was pretty much null and void at this point). Following this breakup, he would meet some fantastic blond ballerina (Harvard grad!) who was also fabulously wealthy and so would lure Derek into her web with promises of food that was not instant ramen. And then they would get married and live in the Bahamas and adopt half of Africa, because his new wife wasn't allowed to get fat, and while all of this was happening, Casey's closest thing to a significant other would be the baked goods she made from Spelnda and fake butter.
Casey trembled, and then came to a realization. She blasted out of her seat, "Everyone, Derek and I are getting married!"
Derek accidentally snapped his plastic fork.
"THAT DOES IT," Marti announced, seizing her plate and storming away from the table, "I'm eating in my room!"
"Don't eat in your room!" George and Nora yelled collectively. Lizzie and Edwin were dividing the remainder of Nora's pills.
Derek looked at the rest of them, and then laughed weakly, "Oh, good, I imagined that."
"IT'S TRUE!" Casey wailed.
Derek stared at her for a moment, looking completely lost. And then he snapped his fingers, newly enlightened. "Oh, gotcha. You're having a hysterical delusion."
"Oh, thank god," everyone else at the table sighed. Upstairs, Marti slammed the door to her room.
"I AM PERFECTLY RATIONAL," Casey bellowed, and threw Lizzie's glass of water in Derek's face for good measure. Lizzie looked at her reproachfully.
Derek pushed aside his sopping bangs, "That gets less cute every time you do it."
"But I'd make you pancakes everyday!"
Derek blinked, "Wait, seriously?"
Nora choked, and Derek glanced towards her. He blanched, stood, grabbed Casey's wrist, and started dragging her to the door.
"Wait!" George yelled, "You need parental supervision!"
"DO YOU REALLY WANT TO WATCH?!" Edwin wailed.