DISCLAIMER: If you think for one second that I own Derek or Casey, you need to go talk to Guidance Counselor Paul.
A/N: This one is once again, inspired by a .gif on shyesplease's Tumblr, of Casey and Derek jostling over the sink as they brush their teeth. Thanks to her, again, for the second set of eyes.
Her head is pounding, the rays of light that have somehow gotten past her crusty eyelids are stabbing her retinas like pointy spears and for one blessed moment, all she has to deal with is the most nauseating, foul taste in her mouth before her brain starts putting together the pieces of her situation. Casey whimpers and tries to roll over or at least suffocate herself with the pillow, but her arms are too heavy and her body aches.
She doesn't want to remember the events that happened that lead her here to this...this being Derek's dorm room floor (which is not carpeted, but at least he has an area rug). She doesn't want to recall last night at all...the drama of high school seems so small compared to...well, she doesn't want to think about it. She's heartsick and she has a hangover and all she wants to do is lay on the floor and crumble away...
Unfortunately, that isn't going to happen as the opens with a bang and the horrible light and smells and sound all grow stronger and larger and make everything a million times worse.
"Up and at 'em, Space-Case!"
Derek's back from his early morning hockey practice, slinging his gear and pads on the bed and making such an awful racket.
Casey groans as her headache intensifies by infinity. Her stomach is roiling now as her senses process the aroma of men's cologne, dirty laundry and unwashed bodies. Derek hasn't showered after practice yet.
"Hey, now, none of that. You puked enough for like, three frat boys last night."
"I don't wanna remember last night," she complains. Or at least, that's what she means to say. Her throat is raw and scratchy and everything is such an effort, even talking, so it out more like "Uh unna 'memmer 'astnight."
She isn't looking so she doesn't see the way he stills once he's translated her mumbling, mouth tightening and eyes going dark. She does notice, however, when he rips the blanket off of her, casually readjusting the trashcan closer to her head with his foot.
"Come on, Case. Get up," he says in something closer to his normal tone, though it still feels like he's too loud for Casey. He bustles around the room, grabbing stuff while she struggles to sit up and lean weakly over the trashcan. When she feels like she can breathe through the worst of her nausea, a half full bottle of water appears in her line of vision and she swipes at it gratefully, only missing it once. She's not sure if Derek's trying to take pity on her by only pulling it back partially before letting her have it or if she's just too weak and dizzy to grab it correctly on her first try, but she's really too tired to care. She sips and swishes carefully like he's taught her before and does her best to neatly and gently spit into the lined can. What she manages is closer to a drool.
When she's able to squint blearily in his direction, Derek's face thankfully only displays his normal annoying smirk and he offers her a hand up. "Come on," he reiterates. "I've got to get a shower, and you..." he eyes her with obvious amusement. "You need to wash your face before you scare the rest of my floor."
She'd glare if she had any more energy, but she takes his hand and allows him to haul her up gently, waiting to get her sudden vertigo under control before he herds her out of the room and down the hall. It's only after he pushes her into the bathroom that Casey realizes that she and Derek are occupying the infamous co-ed showers. The ones Casey feels are highly inappropriate and Derek...well, he's Derek, and that's all that really needs to be said on that for it to make the point.
Once it registers in her brain, she hunches in on herself, hangover not quite forgotten, but momentarily pushed down the list of priorities. She's only wearing a very large school t-shirt (something that is neither in Derek's or Chris'-his roommate-size) and under that, only her underwear...lingerie-pretty and lacey and just a little bit naughty for...NO! STOP. REMEMBERING!
"Derek!" she hisses (slurs). "I can't-"
She swears that she can literally hear the sound of his eyes rolling in his head, and that's what cuts her off as he steers her to the furthest sink, right in front of what has to be (to Casey) the brightest mirror known to man. Pleasedonthurlpleasedonthurlpleasedonthurl (her brain is too tired to use a longer PC term).
"No one is in here, Spacey," he replies patiently. Derek plops down a small pile of things in the sink before her: a flannel, a face towel, his own face wash, toothpaste and deodorant, with floss. "Watch these for me," he instructs haughtily, before heading to the showers.
She is never going to admit the way she watches the muscles of his back play as he strips off his jersey and the bottoms just before he steps into the shower. Instead she focuses on the bundle that actually contain not just Derek's toothbrush, but a fresh one wrapped in plastic. She hurries to wash her face, not even bothering to look at herself in the mirror before she does. She washes twice before the bathroom door opens to admit three guys who pause at the sight of an unfamiliar girl in the corner.
"Hey," one of them greets belatedly, in a suggestive tone of voice.
"Hi," Casey replies wanly.
Derek chooses that time to yank back the curtain to his shower, stepping out with only a towel wrapped his hips, while scrubbing at his wet hair with another. He barely glances at the newcomers before striding to Casey, bodily crowding her further into the corner, effectively cutting her off from the rest of the room. "Shove over, Space," he orders.
She still feels something found on the bottom of Edwin's shoe, but she's absurdly grateful for the familiar routine of jockeying over the mirror and the sink with Derek that she lets him hog most of the space as they both finish their morning ablutions. For whatever else he is, Derek's always been safe to and for her and she's glad for the excuse not to interact with anyone else just yet.
Once they get back to his room, Derek tosses her his monkey shirt and a pair of sweats and directs her to Chris' side of the room to change. And it doesn't hit her until she's changed that someone has taken a laundry marker to the back of the school t-shirt to read VENTURI in very large bold letters...and she's been seen publicly wearing it...
A/N 2: Several of you have admitted to enjoying this little fun project. If there's any type of scenario that you think might be good fodder for Queen's life for our favourite pair, please don't hesitate to let me know. And please, PLEASE REVIEW!