SURPRISE!
Honestly, this is a surprise for me, too. I was hoping I'd get this chapter done in time for Christmas, with a far off dream of it being done in time for PP3. And here we are! Thank you once again for your patience and kind words. YOU MEAN SO MUCH TO ME.
Sorry, that's the holiday season talking. Which, also, Happy Holidays! I hope everyone is warm and toasty, and enjoying whatever you celebrate this time of year. Or don't celebrate.
Okay, enough of that, on with the show!
Beca doesn't panic.
Scratch that. Beca usually panics. About a lot of things. Specific things, things that make her freak out.
Pressure is one of those things. How she'd melted down at the retreat, for example, and then freaked out in the bear trap. Those are times where she had panicked.
Tonight, Beca hadn't panicked. Not when she'd expected herself to.
There had been a moment, unsteady and unstable, when Chloe had called her out on her jealousy and Beca had been forced to make a decision. That moment had passed, though.
And Beca hadn't panicked.
She hadn't panicked when Chloe had confessed to being jealous either. Or when Chloe had told her she loved her. Or when Beca herself had, sort of, said it back.
Beca had been... fine.
Mostly fine. She'd been a little jittery after their talk on the porch, but she doesn't think that had anything to do with panic. No, she's fairly certain it had more to do with the fact that she's alarmingly, undeniably happy about Chloe not 'seeing' anyone else while they've been doing whatever it is they're doing. And what that means. What it could mean.
She'd like to blame her elation on the notion that she doesn't have to be grossed out by the idea of secondhand cooties or whatever.
She'd like to.
She'd like to dismiss the way Chloe had looked at her right before her dad had interrupted the moment they were having. How Chloe's gaze had fallen to Beca's lips and stayed there long enough to make Beca want to kiss her in the middle of the living room. The one that happened to be filled with members of her family.
She'd like to ignore the way Chloe's presence had calmed her throughout the evening. How enraptured she had been by Chloe, along with the rest of her family. How Beca had wanted to stay close to her. How she'd almost needed to in order to not flee the scene. She'd like to ignore how dependent that makes her sound.
She'd like to brush off the kiss at the pool. Chalk it up to heightened emotions and impending farewells. She'd like to be able to explain away the utter lack of caring about observers and how she'd thought that nothing could stop her from kissing Chloe in that moment. Not even the Bellas showing up.
Beca would like to do a lot of things.
Rather than doing any of them, though, she only manages to do one thing on the walk back to the Bella house.
She takes hold of Chloe's hand and laces their fingers together.
Which she only does after silently arguing with herself for five minutes. Going back and forth between, "Oh my god, just take her hand," and, "No, I can't. Shut up, shut up." Until finally, something resets the flow of information to her brain, and when it comes back online she finds her hand in Chloe's and beads of sweat on the back of her neck. Which is ridiculous. They've done so much more than hold hands, so why has this reduced her to a sweating, nervous mess? What if her palm is gross and clammy?
Of course, the second she catches sight of Chloe in her periphery, turning her head to look at Beca as her lips stretch into a radiant smile, Beca stops over-analyzing and focuses in on the cool night air whispering against her skin.
"Thanks again for coming tonight." Beca's words break the crisp silence surrounding them as they pass beneath a streetlight. She doesn't turn her head, but she glances at Chloe from the corners of her eyes as she speaks.
"Thanks for inviting me," Chloe counters with a smile and then gives Beca's hand a squeeze.
The back of Beca's neck feels warm again.
"Your family's really nice," Chloe continues after a moment and Beca can hear the smile she's wearing in her voice. "Makes me wonder where you got all that grouchiness from."
"Hey!" Beca snaps her head to the side to throw a look filled with pure, undiluted, mock-outrage at Chloe. "I had to painstakingly cultivate that over years, Chloe. How dare you dismiss it as being some genetic mutation of my gene pool."
Chloe laughs and Beca smiles, her heartbeat fluttering, and she wonders, not for the first time, how she ended up here.
There's a very logical, linear explanation for that. A timeline that can be cleanly followed from the moment Beca stepped out of that yellow taxi freshman year. The first touch of her feet to the pavement creating an unnoticeable earthquake that would prove to be the catalyst for many things. Each event like a domino, toppling into the one ahead of it and setting off the next chain.
The chain Beca is currently in seems to be filled with all kinds of twists and fancy loops. Impressive flights of fancy one would usually only find in YouTube videos.
She'd never really considered the domino effect, not in a way that meant her applying it to her life, but she suddenly realises it fits. As she travels down a sidewalk holding Chloe's hand and thinks back to their kiss at the pool. Their talk on the patio. How jealous she'd felt. How jealous Chloe has acted. How far they've come, and in such a short time, from simple kisses and making out in parked cars.
Everything she's living through right now all began when she stepped out of that cab. Because she went to the activities fair with someone who actually, actively didn't give a rat's ass about her and promptly left Beca to wander alone without a word the instant they exited the building. Which really hadn't bothered Beca in the least, but what if none of that had happened? If her dad hadn't forced her to come to Barden, if he hadn't been in her dorm bugging her at that exact moment, she'd never have made it to the fair. Would never have met Chloe, who would have maybe been a little less likely to burst in on a total stranger while they showered - though Beca would never place money on that - thus removing all chances of her joining the Bellas.
Everything would be different. She wouldn't be where she is right now. Here, with Chloe.
"You know I'm glad I met you too, right?" Beca asks before her brain has even realised it's thought up the question and Chloe turns her head towards her, mild shock adorning her features. A shock that soon melts away to reveal a small smile and twinkling eyes.
"I think that kiss back there kind of clarified that for me?" Chloe bites her lip and lets her gaze very purposefully drop to Beca's mouth.
And for an instant, Beca feels herself drawn in. Feels the pull like she always does. Then the reality that Chloe is teasing her clears her fogged brain and she rolls her eyes.
"I'm being serious." Beca's tone is only a little whiny.
"So am I," Chloe retorts, giving Beca's hand another squeeze, tighter this time, pulling her into Chloe until their shoulders bump. Then Chloe's hand slips out of Beca's and finds its way to her hip, arm nestled snugly around Beca's lower back.
And Beca doesn't know what to do with her arm, but it feels stiff and awkward hanging at the side of her body now, half squished between herself and Chloe. Still, they walk ahead a number of paces before Beca finally shifts its position, tentatively copying the position of Chloe's, albeit a bit more loosely. Chloe seems delighted by her response, beaming at Beca and pulling her in close enough that Beca finds it a little hard to walk, but she doesn't say anything. Only chuckles and shakes her head as a streetlight throws both orange hues and shadows across the street.
"Okay, well, aside from what the uh, the kiss said," Beca stumbles, "I'd like to verbally confirm my… gladness." Beca frowns, unable to figure out a better way to end that sentence. Chloe squeezes her hip and takes a moment to nuzzle Beca's temple before kissing it, pulling a shiver down Beca's spine.
"Confirmation received and appreciated." Chloe's voice holds a tone of happy finality, as if the conversation is over. Beca's mouth seems to have other ideas.
"No, but like, you know that, right?" She isn't sure why this is suddenly so important to her. Maybe it's because Chloe isn't taking her seriously, leaving Beca feeling like Chloe doesn't know she is being serious. "You… you're like, really important to me and stuff." Beca cringes inwardly and doesn't look at Chloe as they cross the street.
"Beca…" But Chloe dips her head and catches Beca's gaze, and the redhead's eyes are impossibly bright in the darkness that surrounds them. The sight almost makes Beca stop walking completely. "I know." And Chloe sounds so certain that Beca doesn't challenge it.
"Oh." She looks away again, down towards the end of the street where the road curves and leads right to the driveway of the Bella house. "Okay."
Chloe's quiet chuckling makes her skin prickle.
Chloe's hand suddenly sliding into the back pocket of her pants without warning makes her heart stop beating. She lets out a small, nearly imperceptible squeak.
Which, of course, Chloe hears.
Beca's surprised Chloe doesn't take advantage with a squeeze.
"I don't know if it was the same for you," Chloe begins, quite cryptically in Beca's opinion, "but when I was a teenager, fourteen, sixteen, somewhere in there, this is how boyfriends and girlfriends used to walk around." And then she does squeeze. Just a little. Just for emphasis. "With their hands in each other's back pockets."
"Uh," Beca croaks, awkwardly, then clears her throat. All to Chloe's delight. "I don't think, I don't actually remember?" Truth be told, Beca hadn't been the type of person to behave that way with a boyfriend anyway. She used to roll her eyes at the couples all over each other in the hallways at school, arms wrapped around one another, sometimes making out until a teacher came along and broke it up. She was never really into that kind of stuff.
That being said, she had kissed Jesse in the middle of a packed concert hall, so she supposes that maybe she's changed her opinion a little in that area.
Especially considering her present situation.
"So," Beca begins again, unable to understand why she's about to ask this question beyond the fact that her brain thinks it's funny. "Does this, like, make me your boyfriend now?" Halfway through saying it, her heart starts to race a little faster, because it doesn't sound quite as funny out loud. Her voice is shaky and unsure, though there is an attempt at humour woven in there. But it all culminates in the voice of a teenager who actually is asking a prospective girlfriend or boyfriend this question.
Beca suddenly feels like she's thirteen again.
"Do you want to be?" Chloe flashes her a smile and bats her eyelashes in an overly flirtatious manner that somehow puts Beca at ease. The tightness at her chest eases and the release of pressure allows her to blow out an airy laugh as she shakes her head, bemused. Chloe doesn't move her hand.
"After all that showboating you did tonight, I don't know if-"
"Showboating?" Chloe gasps, twisting her head to look at Beca. "I was entertaining. It's not like you were going to offer up any of the charming anecdotes your audience was clamouring for." Beca interrupts her with a scoff. "Someone had to pick up the slack and show you off a little."
"Yeah, literally no one had to do that, but thanks." Beca's sarcasm is met with a huff.
"Well, maybe I don't want you to be my boyfriend anymore," Chloe gripes, just as their feet hit the edge of the Bellas' driveway. "Which is a shame, because I was thinking you'd make a pretty good one."
"Oh yeah?" And it's dumb, Beca thinks. It's so dumb, so childish, but she wants to know why Chloe thinks that. Chloe only hums in response, her eyes trained on the house ahead and Beca's left wondering as the hand tucked against her backside retreats.
She doesn't miss the touch. She doesn't. She doesn't she miss the weight of Chloe's arm around her once that's gone either. She isn't thinking about missing those things and so that can't possibly be the reason why it takes her several seconds to realise that they're at their front door and Chloe is waiting for Beca to pull out her keys. And Beca still has her arm around Chloe.
"Oh. Right." She jerks her arm back, ignoring the smirk being aimed at her, and thrusts her hand into the pocket of her jacket. She fumbles with the keys, even though they're the only thing in there, and keeps her gaze downcast as she side-steps in front of Chloe to shove her key into the lock.
"Are you okay?" Chloe's voice is far too close, breezing by Beca's ear an instant before she feels the weight of another body against her back. Every one of her muscles turns rigid as hands find Beca's hips, resting there lightly as Chloe nuzzles her nose into dark hair and Beca's knuckles turn white around the key she's holding.
It's hardly even an embrace, barely anything at all, yet Beca has to close her eyes and will her heart to resume its normal tempo. It's gone from zero to sixty in a nanosecond and it's all she can do not to gasp.
"Yep," she manages to squeak out, finally getting the key into the lock on her third attempt and twisting it so hard that she's sure it almost snaps off. She pushes heavily against the door and nearly falls over the threshold, only managing to save herself at the last second. She can hear Chloe laughing quietly behind her. "Stop it," she grumbles.
"You don't really want me to, though." Chloe's voice is lilting, tickling and teasing Beca. With her back still towards the redhead, Beca bites her lip and shakes her head, but says nothing. Instead, she hangs her keys back on the hook by the door and moves further into the dark house.
She'd half expected some of the girls to be back by now, so she's a little surprised to find the house empty.
"Everyone must be out still," she states pointlessly, because surely Chloe has come to the same conclusion. Bringing a hand to her head, Beca runs her fingers through her hair and then shrugs out of her jacket, tossing it towards the sofa and sighing when it hits the floor a foot from her mark. "They're all going to be so drunk tomorrow."
"Oh yeah." Chloe is quick to agree. Beca hears the front door click shut and the familiar sound of someone kicking off their shoes. The padding of socked-feet as Chloe approaches.
Beca simply stares into the shadows littering the room, thinking back on the evening. The whole day. The night before. She's so engrossed in her thoughts that she doesn't even jump when she feels arms slide around her waist and a chin hook over her shoulder.
"Do you think we would have been friends if we'd met in school?" Chloe asks, quietly, barely even stirring the air around them.
"No," Beca answers after a few seconds and immediately feels a finger jab at her side, indicating that she should explain, and quickly. She smiles. "Sorry, Chlo. But I probably would have found you really annoying." She hears Chloe gasp, feels it, but continues on. "I feel like you were probably this, this bubbly ball of sunshine. Always so cheerful and friendly." She emits a sound of mild disgust. "And I happened to like sitting alone under my little black rain cloud. You'd have harshed my…." Beca pauses, pondering. "What's the opposite of 'buzz'?"
"Misery?" Chloe offers with a note of sarcasm, releasing Beca from her hold and stepping away.
Beca tries very hard not to protest the distance in some form.
"Yes," she says, bending to retrieve her jacket, "that." Then, turning around, "Was I wrong about the sunshine and rainbows?"
"You never said anything about rainbows."
"It was implied." Beca brushes the comment away with a wave of her hand. Chloe harrumphs and refuses to answer.
"So, you would have hated me?" It's such a silly, hypothetical conversation, but the disappointment in Chloe's voice is serious and real. As though the very idea of this fictitious past is enough to break her heart.
"I never said that." She pokes Chloe's stomach in retaliation to the jab she received earlier and tries to ignore the way her mind urges her to relive a memory of wandering hands. "I said I would have found you annoying." Beca's forced to hold a hand up as Chloe opens her mouth to say something. "They are not the same thing."
Chloe brings her lips together in a pout and Beca shakes her head with a small laugh, then moves towards the staircase.
"I was just kind of a broody loner in high school," she explains, looking over her shoulder to see if Chloe is following her. She is. "I didn't really have anyone that I'd call a friend. Acquaintances and people whose heads I didn't immediately bite off, sure."
"Like Paul." Chloe seems to pull the name out of nowhere and Beca is so thrown by it that she almost missed a step. Chloe laughs.
"Yeah. Sure." Beca had forgotten that was something they'd talked about. It's a conversation that feels like it took place a lifetime ago now. "Anyway," Beca continues up the stairs, pausing at Chloe's doorway before she feels a hand wander along her lower back. Stroking before gently urging Beca forward again. Beca heads for the stairs to her own room. "You'd have been one of those popular girls that was nice to everyone."
"What's so awful about that?" Chloe asks from somewhere close behind Beca.
"There's nothing inherently awful about it," Beca admits, reaching the top of the stairs and unconsciously scanning the room for Amy before hitting the lights. "I just didn't exactly hang out with those kinds of people."
"But I would have been nice to you." Chloe is having a tough time understanding, Beca realises, and maybe she's just not explaining herself well enough.
"I didn't want anyone being nice to me. I mostly just wanted people to leave me alone." Beca turns to Chloe and shrugs, the jacket still clutched in her hand swaying with the motion. Chloe still looks sad. Beca sighs. "You know how schools always have that one girl that everyone either wants to be or wants to date? That's you. And I would have probably noticed you from across the field and scowled when you smiled at me. But this like, minute part of me would have wished that we could be friends. Or something."
Chloe spends a few moments staring at her then, expressionless, before she parts her lips in a smile that makes Beca feel embarrassed and awkward, and flustered. So, she turns away, walking into her and Amy's shared closet. She fumbles around in the dark for a moment before grabbing a hanger to slip her jacket onto and then nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels arms slip around her middle from behind.
She manages to catch the startled gasp that tries to escape at the embrace but then fails miserably when lips brush her ear.
"And which side would you have been on, hmm?" Chloe asks, her tone abruptly changed from disappointed and disheartened, having morphed into something dripping confident sensuality. Beca feels slender fingers fiddling with the button at the bottom of her shirt. "Be me? Or date me?"
Beca thinks there's something very unfair about that question, but silently admits that she did kind of leave herself open for it. Though it's not as if that admission is going to do anything whatsoever to help her answer Chloe's question.
"Well," Beca ventures, slightly breathless as Chloe get two buttons undone and brushes her fingers over warm, smooth skin. "I think we've established that I wouldn't have wanted to be you." And really, that's about the only honest answer she can give.
Chloe hums thoughtfully and Beca takes a deep breath in through her nose when she feels another button pop free, then another in quick succession.
"That answers that, then." Chloe sounds quite pleased with herself and Beca might have some witty retort ready if it weren't for the fact that the last button on her shirt is being undone and Chloe is pressing a kiss to her shoulder as she slides the shirt off.
"My dad thought we were dating," Beca blurts, shocking herself into immediate silence and freezing Chloe in place, her mouth still flush against Beca's skin. Beca's heartbeat picks up its pace, her mind rushing wildly through a number of silent questions, the most prominent of which being, "Why did I say that?!"
A tense few seconds pass, with Beca staring dead ahead into the rack of clothing before her and Chloe still unmoving behind her.
"That's interesting," Chloe says, finally breaking the heavily pregnant pause with a statement that Beca can safely say she hadn't been expecting.
"Interesting?" She fights the urge to turn and stare incredulously at Chloe. A fight that's aided by Chloe hooking her chin over Beca's shoulder and winding her arms under Beca's and around her middle. "Really? That's what you're going with?"
"What?" Chloe giggles and Beca can feel the impression of it in the burst of air as it brushes by her cheek. Light and teasing. "It is interesting." She sends her fingers roaming over the newly bared skin of Beca's stomach. Touches that are barely there and yet burn like lines of lightning as they etch patterns into her stomach.
Despite having just had her shirt removed, Beca feels her skin prickle with heat.
"It was kind of awkward," she manages, feeling wooden as she stands there with her arms hanging uselessly over Chloe's.
"Why?" Chloe's fingers drift away from her middle and dance over Beca's hips and lower ribs, forcing her to bite her lip in order to stop herself from letting out a squeak or a squeal. She's learned that giving Chloe an inch actually gives her about a mile and a half.
"Why?" Beca parrots back, partly because she doesn't understand the question and partly because she finds words difficult to come by when Chloe's hands are on her. "Because, like.…" Hands that shift smoothly over her skin. "He just…." Fingers that sweep and arch, and make her shiver. That idly slip to the button on Beca's pants and pop it open with an incredible lack of effort. Beca snaps out of her flustered stupor and immediately grabs Chloe's hands with her own. "What are you doing?"
"Helping you change," Chloe giggles again, pulling back to brush the curve of her nose along the back of Beca's ear. The action makes Beca tighten her hands convulsively, squeezing Chloe's, and she hears herself clearing her throat as she gathers her thoughts. Or tries to.
"You know, I've been practicing, and I'm actually getting pretty good at doing that myself." She's surprised by how calm she sounds. She doesn't feel it. Especially not when Chloe laughs and pulls back, letting her fingers drag along Beca's skin as she goes until there's no more contact between them.
"Spoilsport." Chloe sounds like she's pouting and when Beca turns to look at her she finds all the evidence she needs to support that suspicion. It's a playful pout though, and it shines in the darkness of the closet. "Whatever." Chloe heaves a dramatic sigh, looking away from Beca in the same manner as someone who's very blatantly avoiding eye contact in order to remain feeling superior after being rebuffed. "I have to change, too."
This prompts Beca to take another lasting look at Chloe. At the little black dress with the straps and the flowy skirt that had caught her attention more than once that night. Chloe looks spectacular and Beca hadn't really been able to voice that properly. Or at all. Her gaze strays to the bracelet locked around Chloe's wrist, her father's, the one she only really wears on special occasions. For luck.
The look is one that is, perhaps, too long, but she doesn't think about it and Chloe doesn't say anything.
"You look really amazing in that dress." Beca's words still don't do Chloe justice, but at least it's a step up from, "also great." Chloe smiles, seems pleased, and that's when Beca remembers she's not wearing a shirt anymore.
She turns and quickly grabs one from the pajama pile sitting on a nearby shelf and awkwardly holds it to her chest. It doesn't really cover much. Most of the material is obscuring only her cleavage and the middle of her stomach with the way she's holding it, but she doesn't want it to seem like she's hiding, even though she kind of is. Even though Chloe has seen it all before.
The thought makes her stomach clench.
"Yeah?" Chloe asks, sounding happy and hopeful, and like Beca's opinion means the world to her. Beca nods. And Chloe's smile slips so smoothly into a smirk that Beca doesn't realise she's in trouble until Chloe's leaning back in and confidently murmuring, "I look even better out of it." With a peck to Beca's lips, Chloe disappears from the closet, leaving a blushing Beca behind.
It's not the first time Chloe's said something like that, but it still catches her off guard.
"Yeah," Beca calls after her, "I remember!"
And even though Chloe's halfway down the stairs already, the sound of her laughter fills the closet and surrounds Beca. Filling her with a warmth that's become familiar and a mess of butterflies that are all talking at the same time. Telling her variations of the exact same thing in high-pitched, know-it-all voices.
"Oh," Beca breathes into the tiny, darkened room. "Crap."
She stands there for a long minute, holding her shirt against her and staring into the shadows. Feeling her heart thump against her hand and tuning out the noise of her brain.
The moment she thinks it, she knows it isn't new, that it shouldn't hit her with the full force of a wave of surprise. Still, the knowledge doesn't stop that from happening. Because Beca's gotten really quite good at playing the denial game and she knows that if she just keeps on faking something, or pushing it down, eventually it'll stick.
It usually does.
Apparently she hadn't taped this one down well enough.
She tells herself that people get crushes on their best friends all the time. That it's a totally normal thing to have happen and it doesn't mean anything, and of course, this was bound to happen. With how much closer they've become, physically and otherwise, it makes total sense for there to be a small amount of feelings wrapped up in what's going on. She tells herself that she's just muddled and that maybe she has been for a while. That would explain the thoughts, the dreams, the desire to touch and to kiss.
It would explain a lot, Beca thinks. A crush would make sense. A crush would be safe, harmless, able to be brushed off. It has to be a crush.
So why is this clinging to Beca like the world's most stubborn velcro?
Before she can spiral into a full blown panic cyclone, the switch that brings up the walls inside her mind is flicked. It slams an iron-clad box over those thoughts and chains it up with a padlock for good measure. She can't think about this right now, so she won't.
Beca Mitchell is many things and stubborn is a very high contender for the top of the list.
She changes quickly, taking her phone out of her pocket and then shoves her clothes haphazardly into her hamper before exiting the closet. With a sigh, she brings her phone to life and runs her fingers through her hair, gathering a handful at the base of her skull and holding tight as she navigates to her messaging app. Typing in the first letter of his name, Jesse's contact info pops up and Beca taps it to open their thread. She winces when she reads over her last words to him, because even though they were warranted, she could have gone about things a different, less abrasive way. Like most things in her life. Dropping to sit on the edge of her bed, Beca sucks her lower lip into her mouth as she thinks of what to say.
Hey. Sorry I was like a huge, out of control dick earlier.
She wrinkles her nose at that.
Which is a really gross mental image but perfectly encapsulates what I was so...
She waits a for a little while after sending that one, hoping that he'll text back but unable to feel annoyed when he doesn't.
I think I'm just kind of messed up right now? I don't know. But I shouldn't have taken it out on you.
She's about to leave it at that but then types out another message and hits sends before she can lose her nerve.
I'm sorry. I miss you. Don't hate me.
Because she still doesn't do touchy-feely stuff so well, despite having spent four years around Chloe.
She places her phone on her nightstand and walks back into the closet to retrieve her toothbrush and toothpaste from the bag she keeps them in.
She doesn't know why she told him she's messed up. She isn't. Obviously.
"Everything is fine," she murmurs to herself, as she crosses the room and begins descending the stairs. "Why wouldn't they be fine? You're fine. Everything's fine. Chloe's- okay no." Beca shakes her head and grips the items in her hand hard enough to shift the toothpaste in its tube. She silently decides not to even go there, in any capacity, because those thoughts act as a crowbar against the blast doors of her mine. Wiggling under and trying to force them up and open.
She makes it to the bathroom without encountering the only other person in the house and goes about her nightly routine. She doesn't think about a single thing as she stares at her reflection; a skill that had been mastered over time, like many of her others. After rinsing her mouth and wiping away the excess water, she reaches for the door handle, only to jump when a knocking sounds from the other side.
"You okay in there, babe?" The term of endearment rolls off of Chloe's lips so naturally that, for a second, Beca doesn't even register it. When she does, she feels a spike of something like panic rip through her, before quickly realising that Chloe's just continuing her boyfriend-slash-dating teasing from earlier.
Checking the mirror to make sure she isn't blushing – which is ridiculous – Beca steels herself and then flings the door open.
"I'm fine." Her choice of words does not escape her. Chloe flashes her a coquettish smile and it's as Beca's glancing away from the blinding light of it that she sees what Chloe's wearing.
Of course, she'd already known that Chloe owned teddies. She and Stacie had actually compared their collection once, with an audience of Bellas packed into Stacie's room, and so Beca's pretty sure she's seen them all.
She's never seen Chloe in one before, though.
It's modest, or as modest as teddies can be, and pale purple in colour. The majority of the nightdress is a smooth landscape of material, the lower half reaching the middle of Chloe's thighs, but there's a rather steep, plunging neckline where the smoothness meets lace at the edges. Everything is covered, except for the valley and beginning curves of her breasts, and her legs, but Beca feels like she's seeing Chloe naked for the second time.
She isn't entirely sure how long she spends taking it all in. Probably too long. There's a weird rushing sound in her ears, like river rapids, and even though her thoughts are swimming, there are a few that hitch a buoy to safety.
All of them have to do with how attractive – hot – Choloe looks right now. How she always looks beautiful but this is on another level. Beca knows that she's considered Chloe sexy before, knows she also panicked over those thoughts much like the part of her that is frozen in panic now. Because it's still a largely new, unexplored thought, mostly because Beca doesn't let herself think about it.
Of course, being confronted with the very real, flesh and blood version of those thoughts is making it impossible for her to stop thinking about it. Which is about to get really awkward and she's going say or do something that will make her look like an idiot, she just knows it.
"You sure about that?" Chloe asks and Beca has no idea what she's asking at first. The question also drags her gaze up and away from where they'd be resting and oh, Chloe's smirking. Always smirking.
"I'm fine," Beca reiterates. Then somehow manages to finish up with, "So are you, but you already know that." Her compliment has Chloe's confidence faltering for a second, replaced with surprise, but then it's back. Bold and brash, like it never left.
"It's still fun to hear it, though." Chloe takes a step over the threshold, putting them in very close proximity to one another. Chloe's eyelids droop as her gaze drops to Beca's lips and then lift to find Beca's eyes. "Especially when it's coming from you."
Beca hums aloud because she can't immediately think of anything to say and Chloe chuckles, slipping into the bathroom without waiting for Beca to leave.
"Didn't say I was done." Beca turns, but only enough to face the mirror and catch the eyes of Chloe's reflection.
"Beca." Chloe sounds like she's ready to chastise her. "We've shared way more than a bathroom before now."
Chloe has a point. Beca can concede to that and she does so with an inelegant grunt, then watches as Chloe squeezes some toothpaste across her brush. That's when Beca grabs her own teeth-cleaning tools, clutching them a little too obviously to her chest, and turns to leave.
"Hey, Becs?" Chloe's voice stops her in the doorway, turning Beca's head until she's looking back at her over her shoulder. "I had a really good time tonight." She flashes Beca a smile that's so sincere and sweet, and happy, that it almost robs Beca of her words.
Which is probably something else she should sit down and think about.
"Yeah, I-" Beca trips over her words, then drags them back up by their bootlaces. "Me too. It was kind of great."
"All of it?" There's a note of something in Chloe's voice that Beca thinks sounds a lot like hope and the sound of it makes her palms sweat and her heartbeat flutter.
"Yeah," she breathes, because how could she possibly say no to that and not be a complete liar? "All of it." And though she's maybe giving a bit too much away, Chloe's growing smile is worth the admission.
With a last wayward glance at Chloe's chosen attire for the night, Beca clears her throat and excuses herself, shaking her head at her inability to do most normal things once Chloe gets her flustered as she makes her way back to her room.
She should have told Chloe that she was glad they had their talk out on her Dad's patio. That she felt better afterwards, more secure or something. She hadn't really considered it prior to her asking, but the idea of Chloe fooling around with someone else while they have their thing going on actually kind of bothers her a fair bit. It makes her guts tighten and twist, and she really has zero control over her body and its reactions any more.
It's disconcerting.
Practically throwing herself backwards onto her bed, Beca blows out a heavy breath and stares up at the ceiling, one hand resting on her stomach while the other adopts a dramatic position lying palm up against her forehead.
It had been a great night. A really, really great night. Infinitely better than she'd been expecting, especially when thinking back on how much she'd been dreading it before she'd asked Chloe to be her not-date. It had been fun. Even their detour into 'serious talk town' had ended with them smiling and joking, and Beca usually hates visiting that place.
The pool had been another unexpected detour. It had, evidently for both of them, brought back a lot of memories. Chloe had sounded tearful when talking about how that place was where Beca became a Bella for the first time, which of course, Beca had deflected with some good old fashioned sarcasm.
Or she'd tried to, but her own emotions had almost gotten the better of her. It's just that Chloe really has always believed in her. Maybe more than anyone. She might not have always shown it, but that belief never left.
It's something she can't think on too long. Otherwise her eyes get misty and her chest starts to hurt. So, she looks for something else to think about, and lands squarely on the kiss they'd shared beside the empty pool.
Kisses, to be more precise.
She'd watched Chloe's slow approach through a fogged lens, but the kind that casts a light that's more magical than it is unclear. If she's being honest, she'd been waiting for something to tell her to turn away. To remind her where they were and who they were, and who might see them. Nothing ever raised its voice though and, thinking back on it as she is, she's glad.
Because she'd really wanted Chloe to kiss her. She'd wanted to feel the warmth and the safety that always accompanies the redhead's kisses. Wanted to feel her skin tingle and her heart thump, and her body grounded as something unnamed soared high above their heads.
There's always a rush when Chloe kisses her, no matter the strength or pacing of it, and it's made up of lightning and hurricanes.
Beca flips the hand at her forehead over and slides it down until her eyes are covered. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she winds her fingers into the front of her shirt, then blows out her breath in one long, loud stream.
"God damn it."
Her cell phone chimes and she's sure her whole body lifts off the bed at the sound. Half rolling over, she scrambles to grab it off the nightstand and then lies back to read the words on the screen.
She has three text messages from Jesse.
With her heart in her throat, Beca opens them.
I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to make things weird for you.
I was just trying to be a supportive dude bro, not a dude douche.
We both suck.
She's shocked. Full words and punctuation? That's serious. She decides that now isn't the time to tease him, though.
I suck way more than you.
She wonders if any permanent damage has been done here. If her harsh, biting attitude has finally chipped something away. He seems fine, but she was really mean and it's not easy to tell what someone's feeling when words have no inflection.
That's… not how i remember it
The face Beca makes is one of such abject disgust, that it's really a shame there's no one around to witness it.
Oh my GOD. Please go back to radio silence.
:D ;) :D ;) ;) ;) :D
You are such an asshole.
U said u miss me. Can't take that bk becaw
I can still hate you.
She bites the inside of her cheek and debates whether or not she should text what she's about to. Being open or showing any kind of vulnerability still makes her uneasy.
So… are we good?
She sends it anyway and then lets out a relieved sigh when she gets Jesse's response.
My bruised & battered 3 will heal
"Someone keeping you up?"
Beca jumps again, tilting the phone towards her chest until she can look over it, rather than moving it aside or just putting it down.
Chloe's standing near the top of the stairs, still wearing the teddy, and Beca hadn't turned the light on but she can hear the smile Chloe's sporting in her voice. Beca freezes at the sight of her, only her eyes able to move and they flit about Chloe's form, unsure where to land. There are bare legs and bare arms, and lace.
Her feet twitch against the bedspread.
She knows she's probably supposed to look. That her attention had been exactly what Chloe was out to get, for whatever reason, and so it doesn't really feel like a trap. Like she's caught between two cliff sides so sheer they're unclimbable. It kind of feels more like a set-up. Where there's something she knows she's meant to do, or get tricked into doing, in order to reveal the consequences.
Whatever it is, she doesn't feel bad looking. The only issue she's having is how her looking is making her feel.
She clears her throat.
"Just Jesse." Beca finds herself waiting to see Chloe's reaction to that and wonders why it matters.
"Everything okay?" But Chloe only sounds curious as she approaches the bed.
"Yeah." Beca nods, dumbly, watching Chloe close the distance between them. "I kinda yelled at him earlier. I was apologising."
"You yelled at him?" Chloe's close enough now that Beca can see she's frowning and the bed dips as Chloe sits on the end of it. "Why?"
Of course Chloe was going to be concerned and ask questions. Sometimes, Beca isn't sure how she's survived life this long when she can't avoid even the most obvious of things.
"Oh. It's not," she shakes her head against her pillow, "it's not a big deal. We're fine now." She waves her unoccupied hand. "He forgave me. We're good." And although Beca herself is sure of her words, Chloe doesn't seem certain and she hums aloud, thoughtful. She doesn't say anything else though and a few seconds tick by in silence. Curiosity getting the better of her, Beca eventually nudges Chloe with her toe and asks, "Something keeping you up?"
Chloe shifts, lifting her legs so that she can kneel on the mattress and slowly stalks her way up Beca's body. Her teddy refuses to let her spread her legs wide enough to straddle Beca's hips and so Beca feels her settle with one knee on opposite sides of her right leg. Then Chloe's hovering over her and Beca is desperately trying to maintain eye contact. Because she knows where her gaze is going if it slips.
Heart in her mouth and hands lying boneless against the bed, Beca bites down on the corner of her lip to stop herself from saying something or making any kind of audible sound at all.
"I was kind of hoping you would," Chloe whispers and the cadence of the words is like silk in the wind. Soft and sultry. And Beca exhales loudly through her nose at the sound of it, the heady words somehow making her feel lazy and languid. Allowing her eyes to drift, first to Chloe's lips as she continues. "At least for a little while." Then to the front of the teddy Chloe's wearing.
Or lack thereof, as it were.
It's a 'gotcha' moment and she knows it. Feels it. Then forgets to care. Her eyes wander over smooth skin and travel along the swell of each breast, before moving up along a pale neck and perfect jawline. Then they're back at Chloe's lips, only now they're smiling, maybe smirking. Beca forgets to care again.
Hot coals roll over in the pit of her stomach, clashing and spitting embers as they go. And the imagery of that leads her to their moment at the pool earlier that night. Reminds Beca of how careless she'd felt during that kiss, like she could have sat there for an hour or until someone found them, and how she doesn't think she would have cared if someone had. How she'd wanted more when Chloe had pulled away and how she'd let herself want more. Let herself chase it.
And how, when she'd caught it, she felt such a sense of relief. Like when your ears are ringing and all you can hear is static that you're sure will never stop, but suddenly it does and you're left given this moment of tranquility. Of release. Where everything is right again.
That's what Beca's thinking about when she lifts her eyes to Chloe's. Finds them watching her intently, their usually bright colour shadowed with waiting and wanting. And it isn't the desire that surprises Beca, but rather her own acknowledgment of seeing it there in Chloe's gaze. It makes her swallow reflexively and Chloe's eyes dart to Beca's throat before returning.
Moving numb hands, as though they'd been held in ice water too long, Beca places them at Chloe's hips and gently brushes the arch of her palm across the material in slow, circular motions. With every upstroke, the hem of Chloe's gown is lifted ever so slightly - Beca knows because she's watching - and she feels her heart thump harder every time it does.
"Beca?" Chloe sounds like she's been smoking and Beca blinks, and wonders how long she's been doing this.
She looks up and there's barely a second between her doing so and Chloe's lips fastening onto hers. There's no sound from either of them at first, the kiss nothing more than a burning pressure. But then Beca's hands are moving again, skirting Chloe's sides and making the redhead shiver.
Beca knows because she feels it.
And sure, Beca thinks, the teddy is silky soft. She can understand why it would be nice to sleep in one.
She curves one hand around Chloe's ribs and hooks the fingers of the other over Chloe's shoulder from behind. Then Chloe sighs, as she parts her lips and Beca's tongue sweeps against her own.
Beca thinks that there's nothing as silky soft as Chloe's kisses.
And she's more than okay foregoing sleep for them.