AN: merry crimas ;)
Song inspiration is "My Body Is a Cage" by Arcade Fire
Chapter Eleven: My Body Is A Cage
The weeks had started to pass and Beca fell into a busy, but easy routine. Her life was occupied with writing and composing songs for days on end before her work would pay off; when the album was scheduled to drop next Friday at 12 am, she can finally exit the booth for longer than using the bathroom. While she loves her job and loves music, studios and record labels don't care about deadlines; what they say goes. It's in the contract. It could get lonely when she works; she becomes so immersed she would rarely leave the studio. Her couch in the booth was used as a bed on many, many occasions. It wasn't so bad, though; C.R. would check on her and bring her food. Beca counted all of her blessings that Anastasia hasn't shown her face at the studio again. In fact, Beca hadn't seen or heard from Ana in quite some time. A part of her worried themselves sick, worried that her unstable personality would go too far this time. A part of her wouldn't mind if it stayed that way. Being so consumed with work was another blessing in disguise; she could escape that train of thought until she was tied to the tracks. The wanting to forget about the situation confused Beca greatly. Under normal circumstances, her frustration would build until finally melting into shame. After all they went through together, surely Beca could make the sacrifice. She would swallow whatever bitter taste that was left and concede. That was the least Beca could do for her. It doesn't matter anymore. She had to remind herself of this. Move the past to the past.
With a sigh, Beca stretched out her stiff back and removed the headphones from around her shoulder. The muscles in her shoulders and neck had consolidated into the most hidden of spaces. Tired eyes were pushed further back as her fists rubbed away the sleep. The yawns come by the minute now, so the DJ made the executive decision to call it quits. Turning her phone over, she sees the time is a little past 10 o'clock pm. That wasn't that bad for her; granted she had been working since early that morning, but she still was going to bed at a far earlier time than normal. She could do a little dance if she wanted (which she didn't). A quick stretch accompanied the few steps to the couch. Her small body collapsed into the cushions, too tired to feel the lumps in the couch. Groaning, followed by a long series of pops, filled the still air when Beca turned onto her side, phone in hand. If she had a spare moment, she would text Chloe back; she had told the redhead she would be really busy and Chloe had understood, never once showing irritation. There was this chemical property attached to Chloe Beale that Beca was addicted to, that Beca had yet to understand or confront. All she knew was that every word typed out was sure to get another high.
Chloe: you alive?
Beca laughed tiredly.
Beca: unfortunately. just finished up for the night. already checked into Casa De Couch
Chloe: does casa de couch serve wine?
Beca: fresh out of stock, red
Beca: both the wine and ur hair
Ugh. Why did she say that? She was exhausted, that had to be it. Beca was still cringing when the response from Chloe had appeared.
Chloe: well, I have both. If you wanted to upgrade to Beale's suite, you're more than welcome ;)
The time read 10:26pm and while that was still early for her, Beca didn't know if she could stand up at this point. The promise of wine was tempting to her, even more so knowing it was Chloe asking her. The DJ couldn't remember the last time she saw someone other than C.R. lately. Holing up in her studio paraded around as work instead of the escape from reality she had yet to face. Beca knew this but wasn't ready to admit it just yet. So yes, she was very tired, but what had she done for herself other than beat herself to the ground? Night after night was spent in the same routine with the same outcomes. Maybe she needed a distraction, a break from the perpetual isolation she creates.
Beca: it better not cost extra otherwise I'll raise hell for the injustice. send the address.
The address arrived almost immediately and Beca chuckled at the enthusiasm Chloe exuded. A quick trip to the bathroom to find a mirror was the reason Beca cringed for the second time. Her eyes were practically black from how much it smeared around. That, mixed with the shadow of exhaustion, showed a zombie. It's fine. She dipped her face under the faucet to wake her up while attempting to look less sickly. Her hair was frayed and erratic, an indication of the constant hand running through the strands that fell in her face. The water was also used to glue the loose hairs back to the sloppy bun. With a bare face, Beca retrieved her bag from the booth and hopped in her car for the 20-minute drive to the Beale residence.
Freaking out would be an understatement.
Chloe Beale had entered an uncharacteristic cleaning frenzy. The text was sent more as a flirt as she was not expecting Beca to accept the offer. Of course, she wanted her to come over, but for her to show up at almost 11pm on a random Thursday night was, for some reason, unplausible. The initial excitement was quickly replaced with anxiety; her apartment wasn't spotless, she was in her PJ's already, and she was NOT ready for Beca to see the state of her hair. Frantically searching for a trash bag, she began to fill it with empty take out containers, empty bottles, and the occasional napkin. Removing the garbage made Chloe feel better seeing a much smaller mess than she initially perceived. That rushed anxious energy lessened and the redhead was able to give a quick once-over before running into the bathroom. The mirror confirmed her fear: she looked like the Heat Miser. Brush after brush, the unruly flames were smothered into her natural waves. She eyed her pajamas and was in an intense debate; they weren't slutty, but they weren't exactly modest, either. She didn't want to send the wrong message and repeat what didn't happen, but she didn't want Beca to greet a Mormon at the door. "Fuck!" she said, frustrated and sick of remembering to forget what happened. The door knocked as she struggled to remove her arms from her current tank top. "Be right there!" she yelled, thrashing around, and searching for another shirt. If she weren't so panicked, she would be crying in frustration. Tripping over a misplaced heel she tumbled down with her arms stuck by her sides.
"Everything okay in there?" Beca called.
"Yeah, I'm good!" She was not good. "Just give me a sec!" Finally, the tight shirt had come off and she quickly threw on an oversized flannel. Rushing to the door, she swings it open with far too much force to be casual when her eyes meet with her visitor.
Beca stared at Chloe and offered a confused smile. The redhead's face was red, and her chest was slightly heaving as if she was out of breath. Her smile was too big and Beca quickly noticed the lack of pants glaring at her. A dirty image popped into the DJ's mind and she cleared her throat in an attempt to distract the pull of her stomach. "I hope I wasn't, uh, interrupting anything-"
"No!" She interjects. "I wasn't doing anythin-ohhh my god not like that!" Chloe was mortified; this was feeling like a terrible idea. Beca looks at her embarrassed face before erupting in laughter. It kept getting worse.
The brunette wanted to grant the redhead mercy, but where was the fun in that? "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Chloe. Its natural to have needs."
If Chloe could smash her head into a doorframe, she would. Her tongue was caught, and any type of quip was temporarily on hold when she imagined Beca thinking of her doing that. But after the initial surprise, her mind came back to her. "I'm very in tune of what those needs are." Beca blanched and offered no other response. Chloe moved from the doorway and allowed Beca into her apartment.
It was cute, Beca thought. Small and homey, full of natural shades, and all of the furniture looked comfortable and worn from use. Many picture frames were scattered about and all Beca could smell was Chloe. Gentle and delicate, lavender was staining the space in a sweet haze. Her kitchen looked used, but not dirty. Everything looked almost exactly like she envisioned it. Small, unlit candles were spread around the room, possibly adding to the smell. "You have a nice place," Beca smiles and seats herself on the left side of the couch. She took her converse off and placed them neatly on the side as Chloe searched for two clean glasses and that bottle of red wine she promised. Returning, Chloe poured a generous amount into both of their glasses, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.
"So, how's the life of a workaholic?" Chloe innocently asked behind her wind glass, punctuating the question with a sip.
Beca rolled her eyes. "Living the dream, Beale, living the dream." Beca crossed her legs and threw them over the arm of the couch. Chloe gave her a glance, but her only response was to get even more comfortable-exaggeratedly so.
"Oh, please, get comfortable."
"Don't worry, I am."
Chloe wanted to smack her, but she didn't know if she was on that level yet. She just kept drinking and turned the tv on. She asked for suggestions (which Beca had none) before she started flipping through titles. With it being late, something easy would be best. Chloe didn't really care; she would much rather talk to Beca.
"Are you going to give me any hints on the album?" She received a raised eyebrow and a side-eye. Chloe just smiled and with wide eyes. It was a dirty move, she knew that, but she was desperate. Out of curiosity, of course.
"I'm starting to think you just want the inside scoop. And no, you don't get any hints. My label barely does." Chloe huffed which caused Beca to snort. She tilted her head to get a better glance at the redhead, but blue eyes were transfixed on the tv. Her head was resting on her knees, tucked away into the couch. In the dim apartment, her skin seemed to glow, toying with the light and highlighting each feature impeccably. The golden blanket seemed to fall like brush strokes onto her skin while her hair was silken garnet. It took everything in Beca to stop her hand from running through the cascade of flames. It was too much; if there was ever a moment where Beca flew close to the sun, she was a self-proclaimed Icarus left at the mercy of a stranger. It was Chloe's eyes, however, that made her shiver. Bright, impossibly bright. No amount of dark would be able to dim the light that shined within them. Beca took a deep breath. She can't forget. She could never forget. Any attempt at otherwise became futile. She was exhausted; emotionally, mentally, physically, all of it. So yes, she was tired, but most of all, she was tired of fighting. The more she fought, the more she can't stay away from Chloe Beale. She had no chance; she never had a chance.
"You've been unusually quiet. I don't think you've made one sarcastic remark in at least five minutes." Beca cleared her throat hidden behind a weak laugh.
"One: rude. Two: I'm stuck in my head, that's all. Oh, and three: I've been working for an accumulated roughly 300 hours in like two weeks."
"Yikes," Chloe says through her teeth and she passes her a sympathetic glance. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"You're too kind," Beca says and repositions her legs to fold under her. "Once this album is dropped, I can relax- at least until I have to tour."
Caught up in the excitement of the new album, it had never occurred to the redhead that Beca would have a tour coming up. Which, the more she thought about it, was stupid of her to be upset over; it was her work. The small fact of Beca being gone for the better part of a year didn't bother her one bit. It was her work. Beca was doing her job. And she would do hers. "I thought my job was busy," she smiled and shoved away her distress, hoping the corners of her mouth weren't too taught.
"Speaking of, how was your day? Save any lives?"
Chloe scoffed and adjusted herself to better view the smaller woman. "If dealing with shitty parents counts, then yes. It's crazy how ridiculous and demanding people are to the one keeping your kid from coding. Just a thought." Beca couldn't contain the snort of laughter which caused Chloe to share a small smile. "All in all, wasn't too bad. There's this one doctor who can't take a hint and I was blessed to have evaded him all day."
A high string was plucked in Beca's chest. It was ice cold and traveling through her veins; she couldn't believe herself. She was jealous. "A doctor? Is he cute?" She hid her grimace behind a gulp. Chloe looked at Beca thoughtfully almost like she was thinking through her response.
"I guess? He's not my type-too much of an arrogant prick. I've turned him down, like, five times and he still thinks I'm playing hard to get." She took a quick pause. "Why do you ask?" She had Beca pinned against the wall with this one; her eyes had widened like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. It felt good. She liked it.
"I was curious, I mean I don't really know much about your life, so, I guess dating a doctor isn't that far out there?" It was weak and she knew it, but she used the same excuse: she didn't know her. Beca had no idea what she did or who she saw on a daily basis. A slow boil was beginning to build in her chest at the thought and Beca's skin was crawling.
"And what do you call 'far out there'?" Chloe couldn't help herself. She had backed Beca into a corner and was getting frustrated with their game of cat and mouse. The DJ made it clear they were only to be friends, but the constant flirting and banter that passed between them was evidence to otherwise.
"What would you call 'far out there' then?"
Silence.
"What would you call 'far out there' Beca?"
Nothing.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Beca? What do you want from me? Because this hot and cold thing we have going on isn't going to last." Chloe set her wine glass down with a steady hand. "So, what is it going to be?"
"Chloe," her voice came out weak and strained, "it's not lik-"
"Don't you dare tell me it's not. Just because you're famous doesn't mean you can string people on a fucking tight rope and expect them to just go with it."
"Oh, don't play the famous card on me-"
"Then what is it?! Please, for the love of god, tell me so I can move on with my life!" Chloe was now standing, tangling her hands in her hair, chest heaving.
"You really want to know what I want?" Beca's voice had regained strength as she began to stand as well.
"It's like you're not even listening-YES! I just fucking tell m-"
Chloe staggered backwards as Beca's lips collided into her. The back of her legs had knocked the forgotten wine glass off the table, red pooling onto the rug underneath. Beca's hands had tangled into her hair and pulled her head, effectively trapping their lips together. The surprise was soon overshadowed with sudden anger. Gripping the brunette's shoulders, Chloe pushes them apart and watches the smaller woman fall onto the couch. Her legs found themselves on either side of her, the redhead straddling her waist. Her arms followed suit; she had pinned the brunette earlier, but this time, with her hips pushing into Beca, it was much more satisfying.
"Oh, so now you want me?" She pouted, staring down into steel.
Beca chuckled and stared back. "I never stopped."
The wind was knocked out of Chloe as Beca overcame her. How the DJ made it this long without feeling Chloe underneath her she didn't know. The only thing she did know was that she needed the redhead. Her impatience was showing in the hunger fueling each nip and snag of the redhead's lips. The response Beca received fueled her on even more. Chloe pulled away and fixed a hooded gaze on the woman above her.
"Show me what you got, DJ."
And so, the flood gates open.
Chloe found both of her wrists held against the couch as the brunette focused her attention on her neck. A warm, languid tongue trailed a path of fire over her pulse and she couldn't help the needy moan that left her body. She felt teeth sink into skin and gasped when Beca's mouth left with a pop. She knew it would leave a mark and god; she would wear it. There wasn't a space that was left untouched and even as her back arched off the couch, Beca continued to mark her neck with a hunger she had never experienced. Each breathless sigh built into an aching crescendo with her pulse beating erratically underneath her skin. She tried desperately to contain herself, but the way Beca was painting her skin in bruises left Chloe trembling in anticipation. Her breaking point was reached when Beca's hips rolled into hers.
"Please," the breath came from deep within her chest while her muscles still strained against the contact. Beca slowly pulled her head away and traced her skin with a focused gaze until she met her eyes. Chloe huffed, frustrated, but it dissolved into pleasure when Beca shifted her legs.
"What's up?" Her voice was steady and flippant. Beca was proud she practiced self-control, especially when she was able to still her own limbs into submission. Watching Chloe's chest rise and fall was entrancing; in her hands, she held and felt the pulse they moved to. While her mind was overwhelmed with anticipation, the beat traveling in her hands subdued the tidal wave of actions begging to occur. Once her eyes had seen the markings on the redhead, her heart dropped and her thighs clenched. Breathe. Sitting back, Beca snaked her hands underneath the redhead's shirt that had progressively inched higher. Goosebumps trailed underneath her fingertips as she ghosted the touch on her skin, skin she had never felt before. Skin, she realized, that lacked a bra.
"You've made me wait this long, so please don't make me wait even longer for you to fuck me."
Beca chuckled and dragged her palms from the girl's hips to teasing the underside of her breasts. The redhead's breath hitched and let out a slight hiss from the unexpected cold which caused Beca to smile even wider. New hands had woven themselves into the nape of the brunette's neck and pulled with frustration. She was being cruel, she knew this, but drawing these reactions out of the woman underneath her had become her new religion. Her palms rose higher in a slow glide to fully cup her chest while her mouth found purchase on the collar bone peeking out from the sleeve falling from her shoulder. Chloe's voice was airy and musical as Beca continued her mission of marking every inch she could. Her fingers brushed across the risen skin and felt her stiffened nipple before rolling it between her fingers. Her hips bucked into the DJ's and she groaned feeling the desperation fueling each roll against her. She couldn't imagine how good her ass would feel grinding on her in a club. Beca removed her right hand from under the woman's shirt only to begin holding her chin. She tilted it down to fit her lips in a strong tug and Chloe greedily responded. She found her bottom lip trapped between teeth more than once, so much so that a trace of copper met her tongue. Her mouth was filled with the other's moan, yet she tugged her away.
"Why'd you stop?" Chloe's confused eyes pierced through her out of breath pants.
"Because I wanted to hear you." Beca punctuated her sentence with a sharp pinch that ripped an animalistic yelp from the shaking woman.
While Beca was caught off guard, Chloe took all her strength to sit up and push the DJ down. Her hands fumbled for the buttons on the flannel while Beca, for once, sped up the pace in removing the garment. It fell from her shoulders and hooked around her elbows. Barely a second had passed before Beca's lips found her tits. Chloe had never felt so high, towering over the woman claiming her chest. Her hair was cascading down her back and met with the cloth of her shirt, both running together seamlessly. Her hands rose and tangled into hair as the musician's talented mouth continued to languidly explore the growing expanse of skin.
"Shit," Chloe whined. The position she was in became far too strenuous to maintain after Beca did not relent. Her legs gave out in one swift motion and the brunette followed, still on top of her. The shaking in her thighs was beginning to grow and she fought to clench them together through the tiredness.
"Are you sure you want to go forward?"
Chloe could only nod at the woman above her.
"Chloe," she sighed and dragged a knuckle softly over the features of her face. Dark eyelashes fluttered and the pout in her lips became more pronounced as they parted in a silent exhale. "Tell me."
"Yes, Beca. I want you to fuck me."
Beca quickly moved off the couch and slid off Chloe's spandex. She still wore a thin, black thong, but there wasn't much left to the imagination. The cold air made her shiver, and another pull of her gut left her winded. Small hands danced across the length of her thighs and securely grabbed onto her hips; she then repositioned the redhead on the middle cushion of the couch. She wore only a thong and Beca groaned at being able to see Chloe's body uninhibited. She ignored how fast her heart was beating against her chest and lowered herself onto her knees. Every kiss she planted was repaid with a light sigh. The intensity began to grow, however, when wandering lips avoided their very purpose. Manicured nails scraped her scalp and held on with desperation. One last kiss was planted before experienced hands ghosted their way to the seam of her last piece of clothing. Her head dipped and gave one thorough swipe of her tongue; the only thing sweeter than Chloe was the sounds she made. She could feel the arousal pulsing through the redhead's body from how her tongue pressed into her clit.
"Fuck, Beca," she cries and clenches her hands on the cushions. Her mouth was so warm and soft in between her legs; one long stroke of a brush would be replaced with a sequence of short and tactful caresses. The shaking in her thighs continued to grow worse the longer she watched Beca's head going down on her. She committed that image to memory before pushing at the girl's shoulder with her foot.
"I hate to break it to you, Red, but feet aren't really my thing."
Chloe remained quiet as her posture straightened. She then turned around and glanced over her shoulder. Her hips began to lower, and she braced her position with her arms on the sofa.
"That's fine," she peered under her lashes. "I've always had a thing for being bent over, anyways."
Fuck.
Beca's hands once again gripped her hips and her bare ass pressed into her front. With her right arm, she reached around Chloe's front.
"You're so wet, Chlo," she groaned, her hand cupping the woman's bare pussy. Chloe only whimpered and started to move against the hand. Her hips ground into Beca's front in a slow dance; her free hand had dug her nails into Chloe's waist. Hips began to move faster and, with how slick Chloe was against her hand, the speed could only increase in her quest for relief.
"Fuh-uh-uh-ck" Chloe cried but never once stopped grinding on Beca. Her syllables were punctuated with each gyration of her hips.
"Come on baby, tell me what you want," Beca whispered against her neck, her hand never leaving between Chloe's thighs.
"You. Inside me. Now."
Two long fingers pressed into her and she couldn't contain the groan of pleasure that ripped from her throat. She settled her hips deep onto Beca's fingers and relished the feeling of being so full with the woman's hands alone. Her tits were now pressed into the couch and Beca stood, her right hand buried in her pussy.
"Shit, fuck me," she whimpered and sank further into the woman's fingers. Her walls clenched on them before she felt the other woman begin to move them inside of her. There was no resistance and Beca was able to happily fingerfuck the redhead from behind.
"Baby…yes..oh god yes.." Chloe kept egging her on and Beca improved her speed. The steady tempo of her hands entering her tight walls echoed around the apartment in defined and punctuated slaps.
"God, I can't wait to hear you cum for me," Beca panted, her arm never stopping its mission.
"Keep fucking me and you'll hear soon enoughhfuckkk don't stop, Beca."
Sweat had formed a thin beaded line on her brow but she continued to pump her fingers and watch how the woman's ass shook with each movement. Using her freehand, she grabbed the other's throat and felt it bob.
"Come on baby, use those fucking hips, work for it." A gasp was her only response before she felt the girl's hips riding her fingers. Red hair was thrown over her back and dancing with each drop of her hips.
"Baby, shit, shit shit shit I'm-" Chloe's thighs finally gave out and started to shake uncontrollably. Beca's fingers were still inside of her when her head crashed into the cushions and let out one long and shaky moan. A tired smile crawled onto her face as she turned around. Beca smiled tiredly back.
Without a word, they untangled their limbs, readjusted their clothes, and found themselves wrapped up in the other.