Author's note: I thought that in celebration of this "lovely" weather across the midwest today, I'd post this. I spent the time I had off from work editing this chapter. Bad weather can be a blessing once in a while, right? It should all come together by the next chapter, just wait and see! This one's a bit on the short side, because the finale just has to be in Casey's POV. Seriously, it refuses to be written in Derek's, and I've been doing fairly well keeping each chapter's POV focused on one character. It doesn't happen often. And seeing as how I'm going back and forth regularly between Derek and Casey, this one is Derek's. I hope this will tide you over until the next chapter.
Music suggestions: 'Dirty little secret' by The All-American Rejects, 'Everything' by Buckcherry.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own LWD. I, for one, believe in happily ever afters.
Perchance to Dream 3: Derek
They were about two months into their first semester at Queens when Derek accidentally discovered Casey's unlisted extracurricular activity, that occurred in her bedroom, at night. During the same occurrence, he discovered that Casey had porn star potential in the vocal department.
But then again, it wasn't technically the first time; rather the first confirmed, without a doubt, encounter. He could still remember her muted cries as he passed by her bedroom door early one morning on the way back from the bathroom...perhaps one of the most enlightening moments of his life. As feministically self-sufficient as Casey made herself out to be, he'd always thought she was all talk. It was then, however, that he realized that on an intimate level, she really didn't need a man. Or, more importantly, she didn't need him.
At that point, he wasn't sure what he felt more: turned on by the images his brain produced of her hiding under her covers with her hand between her open legs, or regretful disappointment that she'd actually been able to figure it out on her own...without his guidance.
A guy could dream. She rarely ever left his.
He still regretted stepping on that damned betraying board just outside her door, it had been such a rookie mistake. And the dash he made for his bedroom would have been comical had anyone seen him in such a panicked state. Especially considering the fact that he supposedly didn't panic over anything. It probably would have made the news.
But she didn't investigate, and for that, he was grateful.
Back to the college encounter. He learned a couple things from his more recent discovery. First, getting home early and not notifying Casey of the change was probably one of the smartest ideas he'd ever had. Second, Casey had ears like a hawk, for the most glorious-sounding moaning and mind-numbing chanting ceased the moment he shut the door behind him. Before his paralyzed arm dropped his hockey bag to the floor with a resounding thud, shocked into a stupor from the dumbest luck he'd ever been on the receiving end of twice now in his young life, Casey was pulling on a robe as she opened her bedroom door, her flushed face the only evidence of what she'd been doing seconds beforehand.
Which had been pleasuring herself. Masturbating. Touching herself.
He was pretty sure he was going to have an aneurysm, if his brain didn't leak out of his ears first. Casey tended to have that effect on him.
"Der-ek! You're home early. You should have called me, dinner could have been on the table by now! I only just put the casserole in the oven about twenty minutes ago." Casey chastised as she tied the belt on her robe, effectively covering her white camisole top and pink lounging shorts, swatting Derek on the arm as she passed him on her way to the kitchen.
"I..." Derek began, only to stutter to a silent halt as his brain attempted to process what had just occurred. His face scrunched in concentration as he stared at the floor in front of Casey's door, rooted to the spot just inside their front door. Was that the hand she used...?
"It's gonna be about another fifteen minutes, at least." Casey yelled out informatively from the kitchen. Standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, Casey pulled the oven mitts from her hands and tossed them onto the counter next to the oven. Brushing her hands on the front of her robe, she finally looked up at Derek, taking in his frozen stance.
"You..." Derek began again, attempting, yet failing to force more than the one word past his lips. Pointing towards her room, he cleared his throat and tried again. "What were you..."
"I was exercising." Casey supplied quickly, answering his question before he could finish fishing for words. Smiling gently with a mix of shameful embarrassment, she glanced down at the floor and shrugged one shoulder. "It's a new workout I'm trying. I just got a little carried away, I guess. If you heard anything, that is. Are you feeling alright?"
He physically shook himself out of the trance-like shock he'd been in, his eyes darting up to meet her concerned, albeit barely concealed panicked, ones.
"Casey, I can't believe dinner isn't ready! I'm already the smallest guy on the team, there's no need to add insult to injury. I'm going into food deprivation shock over here, and my body's doing whatever it can to preserve energy. I'm on the brink of complete shutdown, and it's all your fault." Derek complained dramatically, kicking off his shoes so he could flop down onto the couch theatrically. "I'm pretty sure I've actually lost weight since I've been here. It's probably your fault."
Casey rolled her eyes as she pulled a candy bar from one of her robe pockets.
"Just probably?" Casey quipped in a dry tone, raising her eyebrows as she leaned over the back of the couch and directed a withering glance at him. "That's why I grabbed this from your hidden stash from the top shelf over the refrigerator." Casey finished, dropping the caramel-filled chocolaty goodness on his head before turning on her heel and going back to her bedroom.
oooeooooo*ooosoooooo*oooxooocoo*
It was another couple of months before he was notified that he wasn't the only one listening in on Casey's wood-inspiring extracurricular activity.
The way their apartment building was laid out, all the bedrooms were situated one right next to the other, furthest back from the front door, on the outside wall. Two dudes from Newfoundland resided in the apartment next to Casey's bedroom. One of them was actually pretty cool to hang out with. The other was a total drag, artsy like Casey, but with the pompous asshole attitude you'd expect from a guy that had his head stuck up his ass.
Thankfully, it wasn't that one that pulled him aside after his Intro to Photography class one frigid December afternoon close to midterm. It was Brent, the rugby playing, fellow girl-chasing, cool one.
"Hey, D." Brent greeted Derek, nodding his head away from the congested hallway as he pulled Derek from the main flow of traffic. He waited until the hallway was nearly deserted before he continued in a more subdued tone. "We understand you and your girl are still in the honeymoon stage of your relationship and that your fine-looking woman makes some of the sexiest sounds I've ever heard, but could you please ask your better half to perhaps tone it down for the rest of the week? Both Thomas and I got mid-terms to study for."
"Uh...yeah, sure." Derek stuttered in a perplexed tone, struck speechless by the request. Not only forgetting to deny the relationship status Brent had implied, but that he and Casey weren't even making the sex sounds together.
Slapping him on the back sympathetically, "Don't forget about the party next Friday. Bring Casey. Thomas wants to talk shop with her." Brent smirked and jogged off to his next class.
Derek could only imagine how that particular conversation about masterbating would go.
"Casey? You know how lately you've been pleasuring yourself a lot? Well, I can kind of hear you, and it really turns me on. So much so that I usually end up jacking off in the bathroom, fantasizing about you. Now our neighbors are complaining about us keeping them up at night. So, I don't know...could you maybe try and keep it to only the breathless gasps and quiet mewling sounds? Or maybe, if you wanted, I could join you, help you muffle those noises as you made them? Just a thought."
If she didn't actually knee him in the crotch on the spot, she would definitely girl-smack him into the fetal position and have him pleading for his life.
In the end, he just kept his mouth shut and willed Casey to focus more on her keener tendencies than her horizontal ones.
Just once...just once, though, he wanted to be the cause of those sounds. And he didn't care how loud they were.
ooaooocoooo*ooovooowooo*ooeoooooooo
Wow, I'm in a very peculiar mood as of late! I'm not really in a position to be making promises, but I'll work real hard to get the next chapter up as soon as possible, so I don't leave you all hanging. I know that used to drive me absolutely bonkers when I did more reading fanfiction than writing. Now...unfortunately, I've started picking up all their bad habits. If only I didn't have to pay bills and be "self-sufficient", lol. Until next time...