AN: Serving Suggestion:
Best served at evening time when kids/dogs/cats/parents/annoying siblings are safely tucked up and you have no distractions. For best results, you might like to turn out the light. Either way, take your time over it.
Derek hesitated before he let himself into the apartment. He had driven home fairly quickly but now that he was in the building there was a sort of reluctance which swept over him. It wasn't that he didn't want to be home, or see Casey, he just wondered if he had been wrong to get his hopes up that they could stop fighting this time. Could tonight be when they started talking to each other again?
He didn't want much, just to see her look at him with a smile rather than a grimace; for her to laugh at his irritatingly annoying jokes; to know that she even wanted to be in the same room as him.
He took a deep breath and turned his key in the lock, pushing the door open and stepped into his apartment.
Their home was quiet, still and as he looked at his watch, Derek realised with surprise that it was late enough that Casey was probably in bed. Afterall, Jazz had said she was definitely at home and it was immediately clear from the darkness and the silence that she wasn't in the living room.
With that realisation went a small part of Derek's hope that tonight would be okay. Clearly, Casey didn't want to talk because she hadn't stayed up for him. He glanced quickly into the living room anyway just to make sure she wasn't sitting there in the dark or something else, equally Casey-like.
It was empty.
Not quite giving up, Derek crossed quietly to the spare room and looked for a glimmer of light (and hope) below the closed door. Maybe she was in bed reading or something, waiting for the sound of his key in the lock?
He saw nothing.
Sighing, he let his fingers brush softly over the door frame as he bowed his head in disappointment and turned towards his own room.
Perhaps it was for the best. They were both tired and they were both emotional tonight. He pulled a wry face at the thought of himself having emotions, remembering how much he had hated the idea when he was a teenager.
But he'd lived two lives since then, and he was contemplating a third. He knew what it meant to lose something you care about; he knew loss, he knew sorrow and he knew anger. Most of all, thanks to Casey and his family, he knew love.
Continuing his journey to his bedroom, Derek passed the coat closet and noticed a piece of material sticking out. One of Casey's jackets had become caught in the hinge. He opened the closet, smoothed the fabric away from the gap and closed the closet again. It was funny how things out of place irritated him now; just another one of the myriad ways that Casey had impacted him. She had him picking up after himself, washing the plates as soon as he had finished eating and even – though he'd never admit to it in public – squirting a jet of bleach into the toilet bowl last thing at night! (It was a long story: Casey thought Derek had "missed the pan", he was convinced he hadn't. Cue: withdrawal of cooking provision. Now he bleached the toilet last thing at night so he didn't get accused again.)
Her angry comments about him earlier had rankled, because he did do stuff around the place. He did the laundry sometimes, admittedly not as often as Casey, but he tried. Take tonight for example, when she had stormed off Derek had been left to his own devices. What had he done before he left to stargaze? He had emptied the dishwasher, changed the linen on the bed and even changed the towels in the bathroom after his evening shower!
And guilt that it had been a week since he had done any of those things before tonight played only a small part in his drive to do them. Keep Casey happy by following her domestic rules and then she didn't pull away from you. She didn't object when you muscled in on her personal space while she was watching a movie. She let you blow raspberries on her neck in bed at night with a giggle rather than an elbow to the ribs. Treating Casey with respect brought its own rewards and they may not be worth much in monetary terms, but they were priceless to Derek.
Derek's bedroom door was closed when he reached it and he turned the handle quietly so as not to wake Casey as she slept in the room down the hall. The door opened without a sound and Derek stepped quickly into the room, already tugging his t-shirt over his head, ready to discard his clothes, clean his teeth and hit the sack.
The fabric over his face hid the bed from his eyes, but he could tell something was up when he could see light through the weave of the shirt in what should be a darkened room. He pulled the shirt roughly from his head in a hurry because he hated the unexpected and he hated being vulnerable.
What he saw made him relax.
The room was bathed in a soft light from a solitary lamp.
Casey and Derek always did this. They both knew that coming home from a late shift to a darkened apartment sucked. So if the one who got home first knew the other would be home soon, they would leave a light for them – the lamp on the empty side of the bed. It had a low wattage bulb of the kind designed for children to allay their fears of the dark. It was equally useful when you were creeping in after working late.
Another reason it wasn't bright was because the light was an adjustable one and it was on its lowest setting, but it was enough for him to see the bed; to see the rumpled covers where they should be newly-stretched and tucked in from his earlier housewifery.
The sight before him was a comfortingly familiar one, but one he hadn't seen for several days.
It was the sight of Casey asleep in their bed.
Derek stopped. His urgency for getting ready for bed and going to sleep had left and all he wanted to do now was stare.
If Casey had been awake, she would have found it hard to pull her eyes from Derek too. His gun holster and t-shirt were in his hand leaving him bare-chested and his black jeans hugged his hips in just the right way. Casey had seen Derek naked and she knew he worked out because they went to the department gym together every weekend after their sessions on the firing range. She knew he had a toned but not excessively muscular body and she had seen him in much less than he was wearing tonight.
But if she had been awake, she would have noted that sometimes covering something up makes it more tantalising than putting it on display. Derek's lower body encased in a perfect pair of jeans was a case in point.
Casey, however, wasn't awake. She was an elongated lump under the comforter, her long hair spilling around her face and over the bare shoulder which peeked from the covers.
At first Derek was confused because it looked as though she was naked, but then he saw the soft peach satin strap of her new nightgown resting against her skin. He knew the garment in question. He had seen it among the purchases which Casey had bought in London during this last trip. It had lain in one of those large, stiff and waxed paper carriers only the most expensive lingerie shops provide. The bag, broad white-and-peppermint-green stripes had matching peppermint green cord for handles and white tissue paper poked from its interior.
In his boredom, confined to Casey's room while the rest of the family tucked into his favourite Casey food, Derek had explored Casey's purchases. (So what? He's a guy and the bag said "Lingerie".)
He remembered this peach satin gown. He didn't know that it was based on a traditional forties style: ankle-length with two, inch-wide straps which sat on the shoulders, a small fat satin bow decorating the point where each of the straps met the rest of the gown. Derek didn't have an eye for the origins of fashion styles. But he could tell that its bias-cut meant that it would cling in some very interesting places and when he had touched the soft fabric in that bag that night in London he had realised Casey was planning to wear it in bed – and there was a very real possibility she was planning to wear it in their bed and when he was there.
At the time, the thought had made him raise his eyebrow and take a deep breath, which had eventually succeeded in clearing his mind and calming him down. Derek had then rolled his eyes, reminded himself that they wouldn't be sharing a bed much longer because he was going to persuade Casey to stay in London – and that Casey only ever wore pjs around him.
But she was wearing the nightgown now.
Time passed while he stood and stared, but eventually Derek dragged himself away from what was a possibly his favourite image of Casey – that of her smiling in her sleep – and hauled himself off into the bathroom to clean his teeth. Once inside he took time to talk to the mirror about what a sleazebag he was with his new voyeuristic tendencies. He also debated with himself as to whether he should tell Casey to ditch the satin and buy herself some new granddad pyjamas preferably with a high neck.
Chuckling to himself, he finished his ablutions, brushed his hair roughly, and switching off the light, left the en-suite.
Casey was still asleep.
After he'd changed into his pyjama bottoms, deciding against wearing a t-shirt because it was warm in the bedroom, Derek toyed with the idea of removing the bullets from Casey's gun before he climbed into bed. Her reasons for returning to their bed somewhat unclear, he was worried that she might think he was trying something on.
In the end, however, he reasoned if she was determined to hurt him, she'd brain him with the gun butt while he slept anyway; besides, she'd voted with her feet tonight and they had been sharing a bed for months now. Casey knew he could behave himself.
In fact nothing had changed really. They had just had a big argument. People argue all the time. They just needed to apologise to each other, clear the air and return to normal; a normality which would finally silence all those "critics" who said there was more going on between them than there was. Casey was just his best friend.
Even if inside Derek knew there was no "just" about it. She was so much more than that and…
Derek caught himself before he went off down that thought process again. He'd spent most of the evening thinking "what ifs". Now it was time to just get into bed, kiss Casey goodnight, turn over and go to sleep.
He held his breath as he slid between the sheets, not wanting to disturb her. But when his head was laying on the freshly laundered pillow beside her the need to touch her, to hold her, was too great.
Derek rolled onto his side. He could smell the fresh clean scent of her favourite shampoo, warm and inviting, mixing with the other familiar scent of her favourite bath oil. The two scents were complementary to each other and combined were so essentially "Casey" that he found himself breathing in deep lungfuls of air – through his nose. Derek lifted his hand and curled it carefully around Casey's waist, his eyes closing at the softness of the satin nightgown under his skin and the warmth it had absorbed from hers. He shuffled his body closer to her back and tightened his grip.
"I'm sorry." He whispered to her exposed ear.
"Hmmm, so am I." She replied sleepily, causing Derek to jump and pull back slightly.
"You're awake?"
"Not really. I woke when you spoke. I've been asleep a while but I guess my sleep wasn't that deep." She said, turning onto her other side so that she could see him. Their bodies were close again. He could feel the edges of the satin from her gown brushing his legs and the warmth of her presence where his own body was cooler from being outside of the bed.
But Derek couldn't look at anything except Casey's eyes, and it seemed she was locked into the moment too. Neither of them could break away.
"Casey…I," He started but was silenced by the unexpected sensation of her finger against his lips.
"Don't." She whispered. "I don't want to argue tonight. Tomorrow maybe, when the sun's up and I'm feeling stronger."
"Or not at all." Derek murmured against the finger still resting on his lips.
He broke the gaze and leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers and they both closed their eyes.
For a moment, they lay there, Derek's arm around Casey's satin middle, their foreheads touching and their eyes closed. Once again Casey's unique scent wove its way into Derek's senses and over-powered him. He felt Casey breathe in against his chest, not knowing that she too was memorising his scent, a combination right now of his own shower product, the slight musky "Derek" tone she knew and had missed so much, and minty toothpaste.
Casey smiled and unable to avoid the temptation after a couple of days' abstinence, she lifted her mouth to his and pressed her lips to Derek's just once.
"I missed you." She sighed.
Derek pecked his own kiss against her lips. "I missed you too." He sighed in return.
He nuzzled his head into the small space between the pillow and her neck. His hair tickled and his nose rubbed against her cheek causing Casey to giggle softly, which only served to encourage him. Derek traced a path with the tip of his nose along her skin as far as he could go towards her ear.
Casey turned her head to accommodate him and out of sight, Derek smiled.
The loose-slung arm on her waist became a hand on her hip as he eased Casey onto her back. Once again, he let his nose trace the route, switching to pay the same attention to her other ear and its proximity. With her new position he could reach comfortably under her chin.
Casey drew in a breath and Derek lifted his head and grinned, liking his new game.
"Does it tickle, yet?"
Casey looked away, a blush forming on her cheeks. Derek's touch was causing sensations, but tickling wasn't one of them. As a rule, she liked the feel of his skin on hers; that wasn't a new development. They often held hands and his fingers stroked hers, and he had tickled her at the waist before where her tops rose to leave a gap.
This level of touching was different though. It still wasn't overtly sexual but to Casey, given that Derek was someone she had to admit to occasionally considering in that way…
Derek's grin sobered slightly and he ducked his head again, nose running a trail from her chin down to her collarbone. Casey shivered as the trail led back up to her ear and she realised that his nose had retreated and in its place Derek's lips made the journey.
Not sexual. Casey reminded herself. He's teasing.
The lips, passive till now began to leave tiny kisses as they moved along the contours of her jaw-line.
It was all Derek could do not to moan. What had started out as an affectionate gesture he had twisted into a "let's tickle Casey" game which had now back-fired on him. Running his nose along her skin had heightened his awareness of her to the point where pulling away from Casey was impossible. It was more than just her scent now, she was a magnet and he, a useless flake of metal, was being dragged in by her force-field. Before he knew where he was, he had changed the angle of his caress and his lips were on her skin; motionless except for the way they were trailing the route from her ear to her collarbone. And then he crossed the first line and let his lips form a kiss, tiny and fluttering. Then another and another until there was no trail, just a series of kisses and an overwhelming desire to moan close to her ear.
But he didn't.
Derek took a deep breath which Casey matched and he lifted his face to look at her.
They watched each other carefully, their hearts pounding as they lay so close beside each other, Casey on her back, Derek on his side pressed up against her, his hand still resting on the gown at her hip. For a moment, there wasn't even a millimetre of their skin touching – and after the rawness of the past few minutes' game, they both noticed the absence of touch.
They said nothing. Mouthed nothing. Indicated nothing.
And then simultaneously they slowly closed the gap and kissed.
Derek and Casey both gasped at the touch and the press of their lips became a proper kiss, open-mouthed – open-souled. Even though they did not invade each other's mouths, the kiss was deep, prolonged and like nothing they had ever shared before.
They broke apart and then kissed again and this time their bodies shifted. Derek raised his other hand to hold Casey's other hip, his body now leaning over hers.
Casey grabbed for Derek's waist. Her hand touched the bare skin of his muscled back and she closed her eyes and groaned softly against his mouth, her fingers curling as they dragged gently across his skin. Derek gasped a breath and his mouth found a renewed hunger for hers, his tongue pushed forward and she didn't deny it.
For a few seconds the only fighting going on was their fight for air and then Casey raised her hands to his hair, slipping curious fingers into the tangle as she had wanted to for so long.
Choosing a moment when they were both almost out of breath, Derek shifted his body slightly and covered Casey's. Casey could finally feel the weight of him on her legs.
The kiss broke and their eyes met cautiously again.
Are we crazy? Casey's eyes asked.
Yes. So what? Derek's eyes replied and she saw a ghost of humour; not enough to ruin the moment, but enough to remind her of the man she had fallen in love with.
Casey closed her eyes as Derek began to kiss her neck, and slide his hands up her sides. She tried so hard to suppress the shiver which his actions provoked; not a shiver of fear, but one of pleasure. Derek murmured something against her skin and though she didn't catch the words she sensed the tone. It was reassuring, calming but most of all it was loving. She combed her exploratory fingers through his hair, massaging a path to the back of his neck where she kneaded the tired muscles. Derek groaned in delight and Casey stopped, hooked a finger under his chin and lifted his face from where he was still kissing her neck. Their mouths met again, Derek's body pressed down on hers and all thought went out of the window.
As if to confirm that this was different, progressive, and definitely sexual, as he kissed her Derek stroked a thumb over a satin-covered nipple. Casey gasped in pleasure, her need for him as obvious to the both of them as his need for her was obvious in the hardness pressing against her leg.
Derek flicked his eyes up to hers.
Ok?
And he felt rather than saw the slight upturn of her mouth. In added confirmation, she dropped her hands to the small of his back and pulled their bodies almost impossibly closer together.
There was only one way their bodies would achieve that desired closeness…and it was too soon.
When the need to breathe returned, Casey inwardly cursed it, necessitating as it did the withdrawal of Derek's mouth from hers, even if his thumb was still circling patterns on her breast.
And then he stopped completely.
No! Casey's mind shrieked. Don't you dare stop! If you stop I'll start thinking and I don't want to think until there is more to think about…I think.
Oh hell! She cursed to herself, and then…
Oh…!
The second mental "Oh!" came from her realisation that he had hooked his finger under the strap of her nightgown and encouraged it to fall from her shoulder exposing the top of her breast. It didn't completely reveal all and Casey considered getting frustrated about this until she noticed Derek reaching up to grip the satin strap in his teeth and pull it lower down her arm. It was an action she would have rewarded with a kiss, deep and…well…rewarding, but Derek had other ideas for his mouth and Casey wasn't about to argue with him as he began to kiss the newly revealed area.
Derek meanwhile had completely lost his mind…or at least that was what he was quietly telling himself. He knew that these weren't his actions alone, Casey was playing a very active role, but right now at this minute he was in the driving seat. Common sense told him he should probably stop and get out of the car, but this was Casey whose breast he was currently kissing and as usual with Casey he had no idea how to leave well alone.
Tonight wasn't the first time he thought he had lost her. There had been so many times before. Some were emotional loss, some were physical "separated by death" loss. Each was excruciating. But right now she was in his arms – correction lying under his body. She wasn't beating the crap out of him for touching her this way or for getting visibly aroused by her. Instead, Casey was sighing cute little sighs, moaning hot little moans and shivering at his touch.
Derek was a nice guy and all that, but he wasn't a fucking saint.
Besides, he loved her and right now he could almost believe she loved him. It felt right, and he wasn't going to stop until she told him to…which was inevitable. But in the meantime he was going to love her…with every inch of his body.
He hid a smile at that one.
Casey went back to stroking the back of his neck as he kissed her breast and when he took the nipple in his mouth she dug her fingernails into the muscle at his shoulder blades. Derek glanced up to see if he had done something wrong, but the look on her face told him otherwise. He brushed the tip of his tongue against the tip of her breast once and then released it to go play with the other one.
Casey watched him.
Derek pulled himself up to kiss her again. It was still deep and full of emotion but the fire between them was like a burner being switched on: first it roars and rages consuming more than it gives back in warmth, and then you turn it down to a glowing heat which burns steadily, rhymically making you sweat but also making you feel safe, comfortable, home. Derek longed for that sense of home.
Still mid-intense kiss, Casey pushed at Derek until they were sitting up facing each other, their legs entwined and their bodies close. Casey broke the kiss and Derek frowned, but Casey smiled. To his amazement, she shuffled around and then grabbed the hem of her gown and pulled it up over her head.
Okay, maybe Derek wasn't in the driving seat any longer!
There was a question in her eyes when she turned back to him. An uncertainty as if she was worried that she had overstepped the mark. Derek wanted to tell her that the mark was so blurred by now it was part of the general grey of its surroundings to the point where no one could tell the line had ever been there.
Actually, no. What he wanted to tell her was that she owned him, completely and utterly – and not just because she was sitting in front of him totally naked.
Instead, he reached a finger to her collarbone and began to trace patterns the way he had done with his lips. He revisited all his favourite stops on his little journey, switching once again to his thumb when he reached her breast. This time as his kissed and licked, he lingered. Casey leaned forward so that her head was bowed over his and ran her own finger over the muscles on his back.
For a moment or two Derek twisted his head up to kiss her mouth and then returned to her breasts.
Until this point, Derek had been under the impression that he knew how this would end. They would get so far, Casey would back away and…he was trying really hard not to think about the consequences of tonight.
The first he realised that things weren't going to go like that was when Casey's hand rested on one of his thighs and slowly travelled upwards. He pulled back in shock.
Casey's eyes widened.
"I'm…I'm sorry." She blurted. "I'll stop."
"No." Derek said suddenly breathless and he caught her hand. "Don't stop." He climbed off the bed, removed his pyjama pants and then resumed his position.
Casey returned her hand to his leg and began a (painfully) slow journey towards…
…towards what? The nirvana? Towards sex with Derek?
Towards the place where she could give as much pleasure to him as he was giving to her.
Derek paused and closed his eyes as she touched him. It appeared Casey had a talented thumb too Derek decided as she brushed his tip. He was curious, though in no hurry to ask, how if Casey had only had sex once before, how did she know to do th…?
He moaned. Right now he didn't care.
Kissing her mouth with a darker passion still, Derek let his own hand drop to the hallowed place between Casey's legs.
Several moments later, Casey pulled gently away from his mouth.
"I don't have…" She started.
"I do." Derek said. Clearly their "communion" with each other engendered telepathic abilities. He reached across to his drawer and paused. He sat upright again.
"Look at me honey." He said firmly.
Casey raised her eyes and met his.
"What's the matter, Derek?" she asked, beginning to panic that he was stopping this…whatever.
He smiled and brushed a thumb across her cheek.
"Thank you." He said. "I just wanted to make sure we both knew who we were about to …" his voice trailed away as he caught a glimpse of the heat in her eyes.
Fuck! He thought to himself and, unable to wait any longer, he pulled the first foil packet he came across from the drawer.
Casey lay back, watching him as he prepared himself. She felt curiously calm, as though she was pleasantly drunk. But she wasn't. What alcohol she had drunk at dinner had now gone, chased away by the heady intoxication that was Derek.
He leaned over her.
"Sure?" he asked.
"Stop talking Derek." She ordered, and pulled him to her for a kiss.
Derek closed his eyes as they let the kiss consume them. He kept them closed while he made sure she was ready.
And then, as gently and as lovingly as he could, he poured every ouch of love and affection and sheer need he had into his kiss and his embrace.
And Derek began to make love to Casey.