You know what sucks?

When you meet someone you really deep down like, and you're afraid of committing.

I mean, you didn't ask to be scared. You didn't ask for God to hand you this delicious creature who wants you.

No, you're just scared to be with this delicious creature. You're scared that the relationship/ whatever this is, will fail. And you don't want to lose this person. Because what if you really are in love with this person? What will you do if you move too fast and suddenly they don't want to be with you?

We are the people who never want to get hurt. We didn't ask to be scared. We are just afraid.

I, Derek Venturi, am afraid.

Kendra, Sally, Emily: They were amazing.

And there are more, Roxy, Daisy, Jill, Wendy... the list goes on.

I don't mean to fall for these girls, it's fate.

Fate decided I'd be commitaphobic.

And Fate decided I'd love Casey McDonald. (And that she'd be the only one person I really, truly care about.)

I think Fate sucks. Just like it's little gifts it sends me.

Casey's a dancer.

Why Fate? You choose the girls who intrigue me.

Kendra was the female copy of me. Sally was the girl I listened to. Emily... was the girl next door. The boy always falls for her at one point.

Now Casey. My step-sister.

The dancer.

We all want one. Casey has these... long (gorgeousandohsoperfect) legs that stretch forever and never end. Her blue-grey eyes collide with my dark brown ones. Her cheeks have this leftover baby fat that only showed when she smiles her wide grin. And I thought how odd it was that a dancer could be so damn clumsy. She hid her dancing from me.

And then, we created our own dance.

I discovered the dance one day in the supermarket. She had ran off to go buy some random thing when Marti dragged me to the candy aisle.

And that's were we found Casey, standing in the candy aisle, oogling all the different candies.

And her eyes were bright with a fever of insanity. Those candies were her lust. And then when I thought Marti would ruin that moment by speaking, she ran off to go get some cookies or something, while I was left with Casey, who was completely unware by me watching her.

Casey held two candy bags to herself, one chocolates and the other gummies. To most people, this was irrelevant. Why did this matter so much?

This was the beginning. My own fever of insanity crashed upon me when I saw her look at those candies like that. I knew in my heart that if Casey, cavity-fearer, would eat a few candies, she would have some thought of being with me. Casey never seemed one to take risks, but seeing her with those candies drove me mad.

So before the fever cooled, I wrapped my arms around Casey's waist, and pulled her into me. And it was honestly a dance. Our tongues tangled, and tangoed. Our fingers waltzed and our eyes were always open.

It wasn't until I remembered Casey was a dancer before we began to move. Still kissing, we moved to the left, and then the right. Casey's eyes closed as she began to feel our imaginary music, and we just danced as we kissed.

We broke apart after a while, and Casey, after looking at me, walked off. She didn't take her candies.

I bought them.

And that night, Nora chose to watch Mad Hot Ballroom for our family night, and I sat next to Casey. Although she hadn't met my gaze for the entire night, our toes touched, and we made them dance.

As everyone started to leave halfway, we stayed. And by the ending, our tongues began to tangle again.

And she fell asleep in my arms.

But when I woke up in the morning, she had left. I walked to her bedroom where she sat, huddled in a ball, and she looked at me with those blue-grey eyes again and whispered, "Just a day of insanity."

I didn't mention that I wanted to be with her forever, or that, for the first time, I wanted more than kisses. I wanted to be with her.

No, I just left.

Casey is innocent.

And I want her so goddamn badly.

It's not fair how much.

And look at her. She struts, with her goddamn curvy hips shaking, and her short skirt hitching up her legs. And I want to just kiss her right now and never let her go.

But college is not a time where I can do these things. High school was easy. I made out with girls in janitor closets most of the time and I still managed my B- average.

Now we had to wait till after class.

It almost wasn't worth it.

But Casey was. So I waited.

And when I saw her, I was ready to jump.

I was so perfectly close. I could feel the heat radiating off her.

This wasn't lust. This was something my heart could not entirely register.

But my brain could guess it was love.

No one here knew Casey was my step-sister. It was almost an unspoken agreement.

Butterflies. There were goddamn butterflies in my stomach. And it felt good.

I felt like a real teenager for once.

So close. But then... a boy comes. And I'm tempted to run faster, steal Casey and her heart and never let go.

It's like slow motion. I'm still walking towards her, not knowing what to expect. And she sees this guy and he's so goddamn taller than her, so she has to go on her goddamn tippy toes to reach his lips. I saw the light in her eyes.

Her fever of insanity.

I really wanted to punch this guy and scream, 'Don't ever touch her again.' But how could I do that? Break Casey's heart? When I wanted it so fucking bad?

I couldn't break her heart. I could never hurt her.

Sometimes, life fucking sucks.

A week later, I woke up to the noise of knocking. I yanked some pants over my boxers and muttered to myself, wondering how any pyschototic person thought it was fine to wake Derek Venturi from his sleep. I yanked the door open and saw the girl I'd avoided for a week.

Casey's eyes were puffy and her cheeks were tear stained. I didn't need to ask her what was wrong or why she was crying. She didn't want to tell me.

She just looked at me with those puffy eyes and wrapped her arms around my neck. And as if my body was moving for me, I swooped her up and brought her to my bed.

I lay her down and she stared at me some more. We didn't kiss, and my body was hovering over her's. Her fingers nestled on my wrists and she slowly traced my bare chest, my neck, my mouth.

She just touched my face after that.

And after what seemed like forever, she brought her face to my ear and whispered rather naughtily, "I want to fuck you."

My heart raced.

And she brought my face to hers, so I could see her feverish eyes, and we kissed vigorishly. She pulled my pants down, I pulled her top over her head, her tank top, her perfectly lacy bra. I kissed her everywhere and she pulled at my boxers. Our bodies, melded together, didn't let her pull them. So she ripped them off.

She eagerly took off her skirt and I ripped off her panites.

And then I realized how wrong this was, but how much I fucking wanted it. She kept kissing me everytime I tried to stop it, so I picked her up and pinned her to the wall.

"Casey. Stop."

Her fever eyes met mine. I resisted kissing her.

"De-rek," she panted, "I want you. Let me give you the best fuck you've ever had."

And my heart almost shattered because I knew this would Casey's first time, but she would be the most amazing person to be with.

"I can't be your rebound."

Her nails dug into my arms and she kissed me. My hands groped about her, and suddenly I was rubbing her legs and she was moaning, "Derek."

And I was begging, "Rip my name like you do."

So she started screaming, "De-rek."

And after gaining my compusure, I moaned, "Casey, stop this."

She pouted like a six year old and kept kissing my neck, "No."

I ripped her off of me and I held her shoulders tightly, "Yes. We are not doing this."

Her eyes cooled down. And she whispered, "You don't want me."

My eyes were practically stinging with the urge to cry.

"I want you so fucking much Casey. But we can't do this. I can't do this, because in the morning, you'll pretend this never happened. But I want this to be a memory you'll never want to forget. You don't want me enough yet."

Casey stared at me and looked at the floor, "Can I borrow some clothes? I just want to fucking leave and I don't have any clue where mine are and you destroyed my panties."

I blushed a little and thanked the lord we were in a dark room. "Sure."

She dug around in my drawers and I pulled on my clothes.

She walked to the door, fully clothed, and whispered to me, "I really did want you. I really thought you'd like to fuck me."

I closed my eyes, "I hate it when you say fuck. You used to call it making love."

She choked back a sob, "I grew up a little."

And she left.

Yes, I wrote a racy fic. I was not expecting that from me either.

Might post a sunshine/ fluff sequel? I'll see if I get more than 5 (yes, that's the highest my brain can think of right now) reviews or favorite stories that like it! :)