King Klutz - Strong T - Casey/Derek - OneShot
Title: King Klutz
Category: Life With Derek
Rating: Stong T
Genre: Humor/Romance
Pairing: Casey/Derek
Prompt: #08 - Magic
Word Count: 3,653
Summary: Apparently, Casey's klutzy I've-got-a-crush thing rubs off!
King Klutz
-1/1-
It was like magic, the really bad kind. Because Derek, during the rare moments he actually has "f-f-feelings" for a girl, doesn't act like such a moron. Sure, with Kendra he may have tried to become an entirely different person for her to like him, and then there was that speech he made to Sally that, really, not even he expected out of himself. But this... This is just embarrassing.
Apparently, Casey's klutzy I've-got-a-crush thing rubs off!
It took him a long time, far longer than he was willing to admit, to figure out just what it was between them. He loved their fighting, probably a little much if his dreams (fantasies, really) were anything to go by. He loved getting her riled up to the point where she was flushed and huffing and nearly screaming his name (Der-EK!). And it was wrong, probably. There's like a law, or something. At the very least, he's pretty sure his family and friends are going to really turn their heads... That is, if he ever gets past the tripping over absolutely everything when he's trying to make a good impression and only managing to make himself look like the biggest Klutizilla that ever entered their high school. Not that anybody was pointing, laughing, or talking about it. Because, after all, he was still The Derek Venturi.
But that didn't stop Casey from noticing, laughing, talking and pointing every single time it happened. Which was a serious bruise to his ego, he might add. And Sam never failed to give him that all-knowing look, as if he'd seen this coming years ago, which again, doesn't make him feel the least bit better. Ralph's lack of understanding it at all, however, does sort of perk him up, until he remembers it's Ralph and he doesn't really notice much.
"What are you doing?" she asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.
Here he was, leaning against her locker. There was absolutely no possibility that he could slip, fall, trip, or make a fool out of himself by just leaning... Right? "Huh?" Suave, really suave. It's no wonder the women flock to him.
"Uh..." Her brows furrowed. "I was wondering what you're doing?" She smiled mockingly. "You know your locker is on the other side of the school, right? Or are you lost? Did you trip and fall and lose your sense of direction?" She's enjoying this way too much.
He frowned, lifting a brow back. "I was waiting for you."
"Oh?" She nodded slowly. "And what does the great Derek Venturi," she mocked, "need with smart, well balanced me?"
He sighed. What bothered him even more was that she was right, she hadn't tripped once... Which could only mean one thing, right? That she didn't have a crush on him back. Fate was cruel... In fact, Derek disowned it. Fate was going on his list and there was nothing it could do about it. God, he was a dork sometimes. If Casey could read his mind...
"You're a dork," she said suddenly.
His eyes widened as he stared at her.
Her head turned slightly, lips forming a frown. "Okay... what is your malfunction today? You've been acting weird all... well... month, actually."
And wasn't that the kicker! A whole month he'd been acting like this. Were his "f-f-feelings" really supposed to last? Because he couldn't go to college like this, and wasn't it just the cherry on top that they just so happened to get into the same college together? She ranted and raved about it while all he could think was that he seriously couldn't become a bumbling dork! He was way too cool and attractive for that. He was the hockey captain for God's sake! He was supposed to be gold to women; they were supposed to smile at him flirtily and bat their eye lashes and giggle his name while they looked him up and down, inwardly begging for him to ask them out. But Casey obviously hadn't gotten the memo because she did none of those things!
"What makes you think anything's wrong?" He rolled his eyes. "There's nothing wrong. I'm fine. Better than fine. I'm great. I'm Derek! What can go wrong when you're-" And then he tripped over his own feet trying to stand up straighter for emphasis, reached out and grabbed her for balance and somehow ended up taking her to the floor.
"Oof!" she breathed as he landed on top of her. She stared up at him with wide eyes and then huffed. "That! That is what I mean!"
He looked away and then back at her. It was slightly hard (okay, really hard) to concentrate with her sprawled out beneath him. In fact, it was reminded him of all those dreams (fantasies) where they'd get into a fight, loud and angry with flushed skin and heaving chests and then fall over on the bed together, where clothes would be shed and she'd go from yelling at him in anger to begging him to take her and touch her and kiss her and...
"Der-EK!"
Huh? Oh right.
"What?" he grumbled. "Geez, Princess, you should be thanking me right about now. Do you have any idea how many girls would pay to be in your position right now?"
She sneered. "Lovely. You've become a prostitute." She lifted a manicured brow. "I'm sure they must all find your tripping and stuttering and weird zone-out moments simply endearing."
Actually, they only really happened around Casey; he was entirely comfortable flirting and hitting on other girls... Well as comfortable as he could be while freaking out on the inside that every time he talked to another girl he compared them to Casey. Their hair wasn't brown enough or as soft or shiny. Their eyes weren't as blue or big or pretty and they didn't have her long lashes. Their mouths weren't as pink or smooth looking and they didn't curve like Casey's did. And god, it never ended. Nobody else compared, no matter how many times they let him up their shirt to feel around, all he thought was "Would Casey let me do this? Would her breasts fit in the palms of my hand? What would they taste like?" It was never ending and it was driving him out of his mind!
"Yes, actually, they do," he said, grinning cockily. But he was pretty sure they didn't or just pretended not to see it.
She rolled her eyes, scoffing. "Well, I don't. Now can you please get off me!" she near-shrieked.
Huh... Reminded him another of those dreams (fantasies), but with the wording a little more like, "Please, Derek, get me off!" And it was in a more pleading tone.
"No." Even he was surprised when that word came out.
"W-What?" she gasped, looking rather scandalized. "Why not?"
He shrugged.
Why? Mostly because he was enjoying the feel of her body beneath his, all soft and curvy and pressed against him so tightly. He'd seen it, dreamt of it, touched it even, but he'd never had such an all-encompassing feel to it. Her breasts pressed up against his chest, her legs spread apart so their pelvises were stuck together, his legs laid out between hers. He wanted to move, just sort of... rock against her and see what she did. But he wouldn't, didn't, because that'd be crossing a line he couldn't take back and he was still pretty sure she didn't like him the way he was starting to like her. Well, starting was a relative word. If he accepted that this had been going on longer than his mind was willing to really suggest, then he'd wanted her from the beginning. Which wasn't much of a stretch; she was beautiful and a little crazy, bull headed and strong, smart and willing to fight him tooth and nail for every little inch of respect and power.
"God, you just live to annoy me, don't you?"
Sure, why not?
"It's fun," he said, smirking. And attractive on her. He could already see the flush on her cheeks and down her neck.
And then she started wiggling, trying to get out from underneath him or buck him off her or something, but all she managed to do was arouse his interest in keeping her where she was. Somehow he managed to get her hands and pin them to the school floor while simultaneously locking his legs with hers so that left them sort of entwined. He had a feeling if anybody walked by it wouldn't look like a fight at all. Her chest was heaving up and down with her anger, pressing her firm breasts up against him with each breath. She jerked her hips up and down and side to side and all that did was make him hold back a groan. She was a dancer and she had a beautiful body, but no way was she stronger than him. He played hockey until everything inside of him ached. He may look scrappy, but he was by no means a wimp. By weight alone, he had her pinned and he barely had to execute much power to keep her where she was.
"UGH! Der-EK! Just get off!"
Hmm, not a bad idea. He half way there already and if she didn't...
"Stop. Wiggling." He ordered through grit teeth. Unless she wanted to be introduced to the reason he'd been tripping and falling all over the place, she really needed to stop rubbing her hips against his.
She didn't listen. Instead, she wiggled harder, bucking her hips up against him and rubbing her body up and down, all the while her face got redder and redder and her breathing became deep and sharp and he squeezed her hands stuck in his as he bit his lip, his eyes rolling back when she rubbed against the tight front of his jeans, up and down, up and down, until he was throbbing and pressed so tight to her, he was surprised she hadn't yet noticed. And then... she did. She jerked up and he was pressed right against her through... Huh, he hadn't even noticed she was wearing a skirt, which just so happened to have been pushed up in the scuffle. She didn't pull her hips back, instead leaving them up and locked to his as her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.
"Derek?" she squeaked.
"I told you..." He gasped. "To stop wiggling." His brow furrowed and his jaw clenched.
"I-I-I-I-"
He shook his head. Great. Now she starts to stutter.
"I just need a second to..." Or an hour to completely ravish her and then maybe it would finally end.
"O-Okay," she said, clearing her throat.
"Um, Case, could you...?" He gestured down to their connected hips with his eyes.
"Oh, yes, right," she said, nodding abruptly and lowering her hips back to the floor. "Sorry, I..."
He smirked. "No worries, doesn't surprise me."
She scoffed, suddenly annoyed once more and then she jerked her hips up against him so violently she knocked him over until he was sprawled out on his back and she was straddling him. He could nearly feel her through the thin fabric of her panties and the tight denim of his jeans. She was weighing so heavy on him, it was a wonder he hadn't already "spilled his secret."
"Un-be-lievable," she said, shaking her head as she pinned his shoulders down with her hands. How exactly did she get so strong she could overpower the captain of the hockey team? "You make fun of me for being a klutz! You get the whole school in on it! You've made my entire life here, with you, at a school, outside of it, everywhere, a complete and utter mess! You drive me crazy at every moment, just waiting for the next nerve you can jump all over!" She was getting louder and louder and he was just waiting for the principal or janitor to appear. It was good that it was after school, otherwise, the entire school might be watching this and it could've gotten even more awkward. "And now, now, when it's you who's acting like the nervous, klutzy dork, you still manage to make it my fault. Well let me tell you, Derek Venturi, I will not-"
And then he did something completely stupid. In a drastic move, he'd managed to lift up from where she was pinning him. He caught her with his upturned legs before she was thrown out of his lap and then swooped forward and kissed her. It was soft, lips closed, nothing mind-blowing at first, and then... Then she gasped and her lips parted and his eyes fell closed as every dream/fantasy became obsolete because this was a million times better than what his mind made it to be. Her hot tongue, her minty teeth, her soft lips. Up close like this she smelled even better; her body spray and shampoo mixing and the scent that always said "Casey" to him invading his nose until it was all he was breathing in.
He kept waiting for her to shout "EW!" and push him away, scrambling to get up from the floor before she ran home to cry and rant about how Derek had been a colossal perv to her at school. But she leaned into him, her hands wrapping around the front of his black leather jacket and tightening, drawing him in closer until the front of her body molded to his. His arms were giving out, shaky and unstable and he fell back to the floor, head bumping against it slightly. But he didn't really care, because she was still kissing him, following him on his decent and was now sprawled atop his body, her mouth slanting back and forth across his.
His arms wrapped around her, fingers clutched at the back of her shirt and tangled in her hair as it fell down in blonde-streaked brown waves. His legs slid down to the floor, heels digging in as if his body couldn't stop jerking in surprise at how good everything felt. He could feel her fingers against his chest, her thumbs stroking him through his shirt as she played with his jacket where it was left undone. Her tongue kept sliding against his, tangling and dancing and he wondered if she was comparing it to one of her dance routines or some big Broadway play. He hoped so; because then that meant it was epic to her, right? It wasn't just some heat of the moment thing if she was thinking of Duck Lake or whatever.
His hand slid down her back, following the curve and his knuckles brushed across her skirt clad bottom until his hand spread across her thigh, fingers curled around the rim of her skirt and slid it up a bit, just enough so he could reach the soft feel of her leg. She lifted her knee and his fingers slid with the movement, brushing against the end of her panties; lace. He could almost feel the heat coming from between her thighs and as he traced her panties, he came closer and closer to it, feeling as if he was slowly lowering his hand into a pot of scalding water and he didn't mind, not really. Because he'd dreamt and fantasized of touching and licking and burying himself right there. And then his hand cupped her, spread out and fully wrapped around her through her damp panties. He jerked, she moaned and he accidentally kicked the locker at his feet, startling them both.
Their mouths broke apart and suddenly the spell was broken. She jerked back, rearranging her perfect pink blouse and staring down at him with ruffled hair and puffy pink lips, wide, worried eyes and a heaving chest as she fought for air. "This didn't- We shouldn't-I've never-It can't, won't happen-"
"I like you," he blurted out, stopping her stuttering rant. "I really, uh, really like you. And not in that way that I like other girls because if I did, I'd probably already have you." He shrugged confidently. "But you're... You're Casey, so instead, I somehow got your stupid klutzy thing and every time I'm around you I just-I just-" He tugged at his hair in frustration. "It's like my legs give out on me when you're around and I'm too busy looking at you to see where I'm going, so my body suddenly goes in the wrong direction, right toward something that is going to make me look completely stupid. Which is hard! Let me tell you! Because I never look stupid. I always look cool and hot and... And you never cared about that though! When nobody else laughed, you did. When nobody else brought it up, you did. And I-I-" He groaned, closing his eyes and covering his face with his hands. "I didn't think you'd... Until you, uh... God, how did you put up with all this confusing crap that comes out of your mouth. I can't even string a sentence together, I'm so-"
She kissed him. Probably just to shut him up, but her lips touched his nonetheless. It was soft and short and it was still almost better than the first one, simply because she started it.
His hands fell, eyes wide, staring up at her with his mouth slack jaw as she sat atop him looking like the Cheshire cat.
"Y-You..."
She nodded. "There will be rules, though," she told him, lifting her chin primly. "If we start anything between us..." She lifted a brow. "I'm the only one."
She was stern, serious, and he pretended to think it over because he wasn't going to admit right off the bat that nobody else compared anyway, so she wasn't in trouble of him straying anytime soon. Just as soon as she slapped his shoulder with a, "Der-EK!" and made to get off him, he sobered up, grabbed her hips to keep her in place and nodded with her first rule.
"Okay, secondly... I don't want to keep it a secret. I refuse to get into one of those melodramatic situations because it'll just hurt everybody, us included." Casey minus drama? He'd give it a try but he had a feeling their relationship wasn't going to be all ups. He nodded anyway. He personally couldn't wait to hear his dad and step-mom sputter and trip over each other as soon as they realized that the good and proper Casey MacDonald wanted the bad and not-her-type-in-any-way-shape-or-form Derek Venturi.
"There'll be more but I can't think of them right now. Maybe I'll write a list and-"
"You can color code it and write in alphabetic order later," he told her smirking. "E-mail it to me and I'll be sure to read it a few thousand times before reciting it to you word for word so you're sure that I've aced Dating Casey 101." He may like her (love was too big a word right now, right? Uh, right?) But he was still Derek and he wasn't about to become some love - er, likesick puppy over her that followed rules and orders... Where would be the fun in that?
She huffed, crossed her arms over her chest but then let her frown slightly quirk into a smile. "What am I going to do with you?" She lifted a brow.
He grinned, sitting up and wrapping his arms around her. "I have an idea or two." He caught her lips once more.
So he wasn't a mind reader and he liked to think that maybe all her tripping and klutziness had blown over after all these years. That she probably liked him just as long but got better at hiding it. And maybe he was a little slow on the uptake, but hey, the reward in the end was still above and beyond. Almost as good as hockey... When her tongue stroked against his, he decided she and hockey tied... Not that he'd ever tell her that. He dearly hoped though, that his klutzy days were over, because he had a big game this Sunday and there was no way his girlfriend wasn't going. But if he kept tripping over himself on the ice just because she was there, well... his days in hockey would be short-lived.
Still... he may have looked like a supreme idiot and he probably had a permanent dent in his forehead from walking into people's locker doors, but... maybe it was worth it. After all, if he hadn't tripped when he did, who knows how long it would've taken for them to get their crap together? And if it did go away now that he had her, he was going to be back on his game. Derek Venturi, suave and charming and attached to one girl alone... Well, at least he wouldn't look like a dork in college.
He could feel her fingers in his hair and he didn't fumble in the least when he slowly stood them up so they were no longer on the dirty floor. He didn't trip when he leaned her against the lockers for a little more kissing and fondling. He didn't stutter once as they left the school hand in hand, talking about what to expect on their way home to tell their family the surprising news. And he stopped zoning out, because really... What was their to fantasize about happening when you had the real thing in arm's length and probably willing to try out at least a few of those dreams in real life?
So maybe this klutzy thing she passed onto him wasn't so bad after all. At least it was gone (he hoped), which made it sort of like magic, the good kind. So long as it never, ever happened again. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.