Jersey

It's not often that I, Derek Venturi, am rendered speechless. It's not often that I am unable to find a witty retort or a classic one-liner to add in as my daily dose of sass, but there are a select few times when I am, in fact, speechless. This is one of those times.

This is college. I'm supposed to be doing three things. Getting drunk, playing hockey, and hooking up with puck bunnies. That's it. I shouldn't be ogling my step-sister in my kitchen, that's for damn sure.

What? I can't help it.

Let me explain. Casey's standing in our kitchen in the off-campus apartment Nora and my dad rented for Casey and I to share (something about saving money and sibling bonding, they said) setting out a bowl of cereal for herself for breakfast— and she's wearing my practice jersey.

I'm speechless. What am I supposed to say to my step-sister (who I am absolutely not attracted to, by the way) who appears to have stolen my jersey and sees fit to parade around in it?

Casey makes her way around the island in the kitchen, taking a seat to eat her breakfast, and holy hell. She's not wearing pants. She's wearing my hockey jersey, and she's not wearing pants. But seriously, who prances around pantsless in the middle of November, in Canada, during one of the coldest autumn/winters on record in recent history?

Okay, so maybe I'm a little attracted to my step-sister. Maybe I've been a little attracted to my step-sister for a while now and have vehemently denied it until today. Either way, Derek Jr. needs to calm the hell down before it starts to look like I'm trying to pitch a tent in my pajama pants.

"Is that my jersey?" I ask incredulously, hiding my lower half behind the other side of the island, praying to whoever's listening that she can't see.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, does it bother you? Do you need it? I just didn't have anything else to sleep in last night so I grabbed it from the laundry," Casey babbles in true Casey McDonald fashion.

Holy hell. She slept in it. She slept in my hockey jersey. If she were to take it off now, there's no way it wouldn't smell just like her. And that's enough to make my cock throb in my pants.

"N-no, it's fine, Princess," I reply, using an old nickname for her I probably haven't even thought about since we started school. "Just toss it back in the laundry when you're done with it."

"Are you alright, Derek?" my step-sister asks, standing up and walking over to me.

I try to press harder against the island, hiding the raging erection I have to the best of my ability.

Casey reaches up and lays her hand on my forehead, feeling for a temperature.

"I'm fine, Case," I say, exasperated, mostly because I shouldn't be attracted to the daughter of the woman my father married, but also because my hard-on is starting to really get on my nerves.

Momentarily forgetting about the aforementioned hard-on, I turn to face Casey, looking down at her, as if to somehow prove my point that I'm fine, except for, of course, the fact that she's still wearing my jersey— oh, and that her eyes immediately shift from my face to my downstairs region.

Casey immediately withdraws herself from me, looking up into my eyes like a deer in headlights.

"What? Never seen morning wood before?" I ask, attempting to make light of the fact that this isn't morning wood, but failing when my voice trips over almost every word in the sentence.

Casey's mouth gapes open and closes probably ten times before she seems to redeem herself.

She looks up at me, eyes locked with mine and hell if my mouth doesn't go dry.

"I- I've never seen— I mean, I don't, I've never—" Casey stumbles over her words, her cheeks turning a bright red as she bites her lip, likely out of nervousness.

I take a second to process what she says before it hits me what she seems to be saying.

"Wait, Case," I start, reaching out and holding onto her arm so she cant run before I finish my question. "Have you ever seen a p-penis in person?"

Yes, I trip over the word 'penis', sue me. I much prefer the more crude words for my genitals, thank you, but I thought if used the word 'cock' or 'dick' in a sentence to Casey, she might hit me.

"Well, in highschool I saw pictures in textbooks."

"No, Case, in person. Have you ever seen one in person?"

Casey blushes harder, if that's even possible, and averts her eyes from mine. That's actually a blessing in disguise, though, because my next question would be ten times harder to ask if I was looking directly at her.

"Do you want to?"

I couldn't tell you why I ask her that, but I guess part of me is hoping she'll say yes and cross a line between us being just step-siblings.

Casey squeaks and twiddles the hem of my jersey, looking down at her feet before looking back up at me.

"But you're my—," she starts before having what seems to be a complete change in demeanor. "Yes. Please."

I'm stunned. Shocked. Casey McDonald just said she wants to see my penis.

Before she has a chance to change her mind, I start to slowly untie my pajama bottoms, hooking my thumbs into them and sliding the garment down, and Casey has her eyes trained on my hands, watching every move I'm making. I leave it so my pajamas are around my thighs and my cock is jutting straight out towards Casey.

Casey gasps, her fingers twitching on the hem of my jersey and her eyes are darting between my face and the thing sticking out at her.

I look down at my step-sister, almost watching the gears turning in her head as she's looking at me.

I'm trying not to think about Casey wearing my jersey while she's looking at me like that, but it doesn't seem to be working. She's wearing my jersey and I'd love nothing more than to carry her into my room and make her miss her 10 a.m. lecture, but I'm not diluted enough to think that'll happen.

"So, there, now you've seen one in person," I say, reaching to pull my pants back up, but Casey reaches out and stops my hand, her wrist brushing the head of my penis, making an involuntary shiver run up my spine.

I suck in a breath, hopelessly willing my body to stop reacting to Casey in the ways it is, and to my dismay, Casey notices.

"I-I'm sorry! Are you okay?" Casey asks, blushing as she yanks her hand away from my crotch.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, Case," I reply, my voice shaking as I tuck myself back into my pants, ignoring the way my dick throbs from lack of attention.

Casey nods, eyes dragging back up the length of my chest until she reaches my eyes, making contact through a thick tension you could cut with a knife.

"Are we okay?" Casey asks, a nervousness in her voice I don't think I've ever heard before.

Well, let's talk about that for a minute. Casey McDonald and I have never quite been 'okay'. In fact, we've probably been the opposite of okay for most of our time in knowing each other and have only recently started getting along since living together alone for the first time ever. But in what's considered 'okay' for Casey and I, seeing as she just spent the last five or so minutes looking at my penis willingly, sure, we're okay.

"We're okay."

Casey nods, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips— Don't look at her lips. Don't look at her lips.

And my cock is pulsating again. I can almost hear it yelling at me. For fuck's sake, I really shouldn't be this attracted to my step-sister.

It's not even just that I'm attracted to her. It's more than a physical attraction to her. Don't misunderstand me here. I'm not saying I'm in love with her— because Derek Venturi doesn't do love— but if I did, I could see myself falling in love with Casey. I care about Casey. She's important to me.

Casey's a huge part of my life. She's my step-sister, for one. She's also my roommate, so as if I didn't know enough about her living in the same house as teenagers, I definitely know a lot about her now. She's also, probably, my closest friend— maybe even my best friend— and sometimes, my only friend.

Casey and I can sit and watch a movie together, or study, or even just sit and talk civilly now. We rarely fight. In fact, I can't remember the last time we did.

"I promise, Case, we're okay," I repeat, noticing that Casey seems to still be worrying she crossed a line.

"Thank you, Derek," Casey says, so quietly it's almost inaudible.

"Don't sweat it. What else are big brothers for?"

Well, I'm not exactly sure, but I'm nearly positive it's not for showing your step-sister your penis.

It's around six p.m. and I'm in my bedroom watching hockey on television when Casey gets home from her classes or the library or wherever she's been all day.

And it's not two minutes later when the aforementioned brunette bursts through my bedroom door and climbs into my bed next to me.

Okay, pause. This isn't as unusual as it sounds. Casey and I often watch movies together and study, seeing as how we live together and all, and oftentimes that takes place in either of our bedrooms because there's no television in the living room in our apartment.

"I'm not turning off hockey," I say, not looking away from the screen, focusing intently on the scores and not the girl next to me in my bed.

"I didn't ask you to," Casey laughs, tucking the pillow she's deemed as being hers when we hang out in here underneath her head, stretching out on my bed.

I turn away from hockey when it goes to commercial, wondering now why Casey has invaded my bed on a day we hadn't decided to watch a movie or study together. Okay, and also on the day she saw my penis for the first time.

"How was class?" I ask, trying to focus on something other than Casey being in my bed.

"Fine, I couldn't really concentrate though."

I should really start keeping a bottle of water next to me at all times given how often Casey keeps making my throat go dry.

"Why's that?" I ask, swallowing a lump in my throat the size of a golfball.

"I just, well, there's this guy… And I just feel so nervous around him and I don't know how to approach him and talk to him."

No, Derek. Don't get your hopes up. She's not talking about you, the cruel part of my brain reminds me before I can say something I might regret.

"Well, usually 'hi' works pretty well," I joke, lying down on my back with my arms behind my head, turning my head to the side so I'm still looking at her.

"So I should just go up to him and say, 'hi'?"

"Well, yeah. It's the best way to start a conversation."

Casey seems to think for a minute, her eyebrows furrowing before she leans up on one of her arms, causing her hair to fall to one side, exposing her neck.

Casey leans in closer to me and my heart starts racing in my chest, hammering against my ribcage.

"Hi," Casey whispers, biting her lip, no doubt worrying that she's going to receive a bad reaction.

"Hi, Casey," I mumble back, not sure what she expects me to do.

"Derek, I— I know we're legally siblings, but I've never seen you as my brother. Especially after this morning. I've always felt some sort of magnetic pull to you. And this morning, I wanted to stay here with you instead of going to class, even if all we did was watch hockey. I just can't understand how something that feels so right could be wrong."

I concur, McDonald.

My body has a mind of its own. That's what I'll tell anybody who asks why I did what I do next.

I surge forward, leaning on my left arm, wrapping the other securely around Casey's waist— and I kiss her.

Casey squeaks in surprise, but doesn't falter. She raises her hand and tangles her fingers through my hair and presses closer to me, if that's even possible.

And suddenly, one kiss turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into holy shit, I'm actually making out with my step-sister in my bed. This is not a drill, this is not a dream.

Casey's shirt rides up on her stomach when she lies back on my bed, pulling me with her so I'm just about laying on top of her, and my bare stomach grazes hers. Her skin against mine, her lips on mine, her fingers in my hair— all of these things just about make my brain short-circuit.

"Derek," Casey breathes against my lips, and I know she's asking where the hell we're supposed to go from here.

It's easy to get lost in kissing someone, and it's even easier when it's someone you've dreamed about kissing (okay, among other things) since you were fifteen. And I'm trying like hell to make sure I'm not doing anything Casey doesn't want.

"Are you okay, Case?" I ask, needing to make sure she's not going to start crying because her step-brother forced himself on her.

I'm still half on top of her, my arm is still wrapped around her waist, my legs are still tangled with hers, and my lips are itching to kiss her again— but I won't until she tells me she's okay.

"I'm more than fine, Derek. I could lay here and kiss you all night."

I can't do anything to stop the smile that spreads across my face.

"You have no idea how great it is to hear you say that," I smile, leaning my forehead against hers before kissing her again, reveling in the feeling of knowing that I can actually do that.

It's about ten minutes later when we pull away from each other, the need for oxygen too great to ignore.

"Derek," Casey says, a hint of something in her voice that sounds like sadness, which sends my mind reeling, worried I'd done something to upset her. "I just have to tell you, you can't kiss me like that and tell me you want this if you're not serious. You're not just some random guy, Derek. And you're not just my step-brother, either. You're special and important to me, and I don't want to get my hopes up thinking you're serious about this if you're really just interested in getting laid."

What Casey doesn't know is that since coming to Queens, there's only been one girl on my mind. The very same girl who, this morning, was wearing my hockey jersey. The same girl who, also this morning, saw me essentially naked. The same girl who, right now, is laying beneath me, breathless, from intensely making out with her step-brother.

"Case," I sigh, twining her fingers with mine, leaning my forehead against hers. "You're not just some girl, and you're not just my step-sister. And to be frank, you're the only girl I've even thought about in months. And that sounded dirty when I said it, but that's not how I meant it."

Well, at the risk of sounding like a total creep, she's the only girl I've thought of like that too. But I somehow doubt Casey would want to hear that, yeah, I think about her in a romantic sense, but I also think about her when I jerk it at night, alone in my room when she's sleeping next door.

Casey smiles, a bright, beautiful smile that makes my heart skip a couple beats and brushes a few stray hairs out of my face. That smile soon fades and turns into a smirk that would put even me to shame.

I don't have even a second to question why before I'm shoved onto my back and Casey's on top of me and her lips are back on mine.

I suppose she's figured that now that we've gotten the talking part out of the way, we can get back to the kissing part.

This is different than before though, because Casey's running her hands up and down my chest, and mine are tangling in her hair, gripping her head to mine and the other is resting on her lower back, dangerously close to her butt.

Our lips and tongues dance together, and my head is spinning and I can't tell if it's from lack of oxygen or from kissing Casey, but somehow I think it's the latter.

I'm trying to be good. I'm trying to not act like a pig, but I don't think I've ever been so attracted to a girl before in my life. This is Casey for fuck's sake.

I bend one of my legs at the knee, using it as leverage to roll us over so I'm back on top, removing my lips from hers in favor of kissing my way along her jaw and down her neck.

My hands rub up and down her sides, sliding her shirt up on her torso. I promise, I'm not trying to take her shirt off, I just need to touch her, feel her somehow.

Casey arches her neck into my kiss, silently telling me she's comfortable with what I'm doing, and for that I'm thankful.

My step-sister is making the most glorious, erotic sounds— tiny, breathless pants and the occasional low moan that's almost too quiet to hear, but I'll be damned if I don't listen intently to those sounds.

Casey's gently tugging on my hair and her hips keep bucking off the bed slightly, telling me I'm at least doing something right, considering this is the first opportunity I've gotten to figure out what Casey likes.

"Derek."

My name comes out like a moan on her lips and holy shit. As if every once of blood in my body hadn't already gone south during all of this, it definitely does at hearing that. Right now, there's nothing I want more than to hear Casey say my name like that over and over again.

But, of course, step-siblings can't just roll around in bed together, making out like their lives depend on it without something interrupting it. In this case, Nora.

Casey's cell phone starts to ring from somewhere in my bed and without missing a beat, I say, "Ignore it."

"I can't, Der, it's my mom. It's almost seven. You know as well as I do that she'll send a search party out if I don't answer."

Nora calls Casey every day, without fail, around dinnertime and the two women gush about their days, talking about school and work and life and how goes things at the McDonald-Venturi residence, sans the two eldest children.

"Fine, but I'm not stopping," I smirk, pressing my lips back to Casey's throat, causing her to shiver as she digs around for her cell phone, flicking it open and pressing it to her ear when she finds it.

"Hi, Mom!" Casey cheers, turning the phone onto speaker mode so I can hear Nora too, not that I'm listening much due to my focusing on touching and kissing Casey.

"Hi, Casey! How's your day been?" I hear Nora ask through the phone.

Somehow I don't think Casey plans on telling her mother the truth about how her day's gone.

"It's been okay. I had class," Casey says, not lying, per say, but withholding information.

As Casey's talking to her mom, I'm doing everything in my power to make Casey give herself up. I'm kissing my way down her neck and collarbone, sucking gently to make her shiver.

"So what are you doing this evening?" Nora asks, forcing a very 'deer in headlights' look onto Casey's face.

"Oh, um, just watching hockey with Derek."

"That makes me so happy to hear!" Nora cheers. "See, Case, I told you you two would get along better if you just gave it a shot."

I can't help but snicker at that. If only she knew just how well her two eldest were getting along now. If she did, I think she might've had a heart attack.

I lay open-mouthed kisses back up my step-sister's neck, nuzzling my nose against the skin just under her ear, watching in amusement when Casey claps her hand over her mouth and whimpers, bucking her hips up, meeting mine.

I can't stop the low groan that forces its way out of my throat and I hope like hell Nora didn't hear it.

"Hang up the phone," I growl, pushing my hips against Casey's again, biting gently into her neck to keep myself quiet.

"I know, mom. You were right. But listen, Derek's glaring at me for talking during hockey. I'll call you later?"

"Sure, honey," Nora says. "Tell Derek hello from everyone."

"Will do, bye, mom."

Casey snaps her phone shut and tosses it across the room.

I lift my head from her neck, looking down at Casey, smirking because I know she's not happy about having to hang up the phone.

Casey pushes on my shoulder, and I know she wants me off of her. She doesn't look mad, though, so I kneel up, letting Casey move however she plans to.

Casey kneels up too, her body no more than six inches from mine, before she lays her hands on my shoulders.

"You, Derek Venturi, are quite possibly the most obnoxious and infuriating person alive," Casey says, worrying me a little, but the tone of her voice is dark, low, and undeniably sexy.

Casey's grip on my shoulders tightens and before I know it, I'm pushed flat on my back again and Casey's straddling me, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

"But as often as you're obnoxious and infuriating, it's twice as often that I want you to kiss me," Casey whispers, punctuating her statement by kissing me again. "And touch me."

Casey guides my hands up her thighs, over her stomach and back down again, and I swear this girl is going to drive me nuts.

It's a few hours later, the hockey game long forgotten, and Casey and I are curled up in my bed. We probably haven't said a single word to each other in twenty minutes. I've just been looking at her, admiring her.

Casey and I didn't do anything more than a little heated kissing and touching before we mutually decided to put some ice on it, hence the being curled up in my bed.

I tried going back to watching hockey, but in this moment, nothing is more captivating than Casey McDonald.

"So, Derek," my step-sister whispers, her finger tracing random patterns on my still-bare chest.

"So, Casey."

Casey laughs, and if that's not the most beautiful sound I've ever heard, I don't know what is.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Casey asks, tilting her head up to look at me.

I think about that for a minute. I mean, c'mon, is it really even possible to date your step-sister? It's unlikely it would work out, especially if Nora and my dad found out. So then why do I want it so badly? Why is it all I've thought about since Casey invaded my bed some hours ago?

"How about we just take it day by day? I'm willing to try if you are."

And I'm not lying in saying that. I'm willing to do anything to make this work. Fifteen year-old Derek would probably find a DeLorean and Back to the Future my ass if I didn't at least give it my best shot with Casey.

"What about Mom and George?" Casey asks that million dollar question, and to be honest, I don't know if I have an answer.

"We won't see them again until Christmas. So let's not worry about it until then, hmm?"

I feel Casey nod her head against my shoulder and I'm content with that being her answer.

I turn to lay on my side, enabling myself to look more directly at the beautiful woman beside me. It's gotta be some kind of sin to not give every bit of attention I can to her.

And suddenly, a question hits me. It's a question I've asked myself since Casey and I came to Queens, but I never had the nads to actually ask Casey, but seeing as we've crossed a lot of lines today, I highly doubt this question will cause a stir.

"Case?"

Casey 'hmm's in response, tilting her head up again.

"Why didn't you go to New York?"

It never made sense to me. Casey had the opportunity to dance in New York but instead chose to attend college in Kingston. Call me crazy, but that never made a whole hell of a lot of sense to me.

"Because keener Casey needed to go to college," Casey replies, but her voice says she's lying.

"Casey, you can't lie to me. I know you," I laugh, angling my head down to look at her, watching as a blush tints her cheeks. Ha, caught red-handed.

Casey laughs nervously in response, and I can tell she's debating telling me something.

"You can tell me anything, Casey, you know that."

And that's true. Even at our worst, Casey always told me when something was bothering her. We fought like hell, but we cared like hell too.

Casey nods, clearing her throat before speaking again, "It wasn't because I needed to go to college. I just knew I'd rather be at Queens with you than in New York without you."

"Casey, relax," I try, watching my step-sister/girlfriend of well over a month now pace back and forth across our Kingston apartment.

"How am I supposed to relax, Der?!" Casey shrieks. "We're going back to London in two days! Two days! In case you've forgotten, we've spent the last six weeks as a couple and now we have to pretend to be just step-siblings for Christmas!"

I stand from my spot on the living room sofa and walk over to her, laying my hands on her hips and looking down at her.

"Relax, Princess," I whisper, that nickname now having taken on an entirely different connotation than it had in years past. "I promise everything will be okay."

Casey's shoulders slump and she lays her head on my chest, giving her best attempt at slowing her breathing.

"Derek, I just can't imagine what they'll say if and when they find out."

I kiss the top of her head, hugging onto her in an attempt to halt the Casey McDonald freak-out.

"We already talked about this, Case," I whisper, rubbing my hands up and down her back. "We're not going to tell them until the time is right."

Casey nods against my chest, wrapping her arms around me, finally hugging back.

"Thank you, Derek."

"George! Casey and Derek are here!" Nora shouts, beaming from ear to ear when she opens the door to Casey and I once we arrive home for Christmas break from school.

My dad comes running from the kitchen, an equally large smile plastered across his face as he comes up and gives both Casey and I a hug almost tight enough to make our eyes pop out.

"We missed you guys so much!" I hear Nora say to Casey as she embraces her daughter.

"We missed you too, Mom," Casey tells her before being whisked away to go see Lizzie in her room.

"We're so glad to have you two home for Christmas, Derek," my dad says as we walk together into the kitchen.

"Nora seems happy to have Casey home. I'll bet she's missed her."

I'm trying to sound as bored as possible, in true Derek fashion, but a lot has changed since September. I wouldn't even recognize September-Derek if I ran into him.

"She has. We all have. Both of you. We've missed both of you. The house is too quiet without your constant fighting."

Hey, guys! So, this story has been floating around on my laptop for months now and I'm posting it now because why not. This is part of a series of at least two parts, more if you guys want. Let me know what you think!

This is my first Life with Derek fan fiction, but I've hardcore shipped Dasey since I was a child. So, this is what comes of that as an adult. This story will be rated M for the next part, which will include sexual themes and graphic sexual encounters.