DISCLAIMER: I don't own a damn character here and we all know it.
A/N: Of course thanks goes to sheyesplease for the look through. Also, there is an overabundance of commas. I felt them necessary. Apologies if D/C seem OOC, I'm in a fluffy mood.
Casey hates her new mattress. Hates it.
The extra long twin at Queen's is not anything like her soft double at home. The sound of the plastic covering on the mattress is only muted by the egg crate and pillowtop cover she tries to enhance it with. Still, to no avail she can hear the covering and padding of the thing, anyways, and it makes for three weeks' worth of restless nights.
They haven't really talked, except for two quick chats to make sure the other is breathing and going to class and keeping contact with the fam, but somehow; without any reasonable explanation, Casey feels like she can complain about this to Derek and get that weird understanding only they can reach.
Except, as it turns out, Derek doesn't understand her problem, because after he hesitantly lets her in his dorm (after making sure no one saw them together), he listens to her rant with unusual silence, before leading her to his bed...
...only to show off a very familiar piece...
"How the HELL did you manage that?!" she cries, forgoing her (self-imposed) no-cursing rule.
Derek merely shrugs with that super annoying self-satisfied look and utters "What Derek Venturi wants, Derek Venturi gets," in that smug tone she's been so used to hearing.
It's not fair. Here's she's been for the last few weeks, trying to fit into this ridiculously huge campus with all its classes and activities and she has to be stuck with this completely awful standard issued dorm mattress and her step-brother has somehow managed for his own bedding to replace the original Uni offerings.
Casey is this close to tears and apparently it shows, because Derek's got that really super alarmed face, before he slings an arm around her shoulders and hauls her into the bed with him.
It's not filled with the classic unwashed-male-scent, or the usual warmth of his previously occupied body, but it feels familiar for once. It's something that Casey clings to...she hates to say this or even admit it, but here, in his illicit bed, Casey feels a little bit like she's home now...
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