Beca's eyes fluttered open to a pitch black room. Her first thought was to silently ask herself what time it was, but just as it occurred to her to reach for her phone and check, she heard the sound of Chloe's light snore and quickly forgot about the time. She was reminded, then, of the swell of breasts pressed into her shoulder blades, the light touch of hips against her backside, and the arm draped across her waist. Her breath hitched as she mentally followed the arm to its wrist, then its hand, then its fingers, recognizing that it must have drifted in slumber. The tips of Chloe's fingers now dipped below the waistband of both her shorts and her panties, resting gently against soft skin.
With a nearly silent intake of breath, Beca suddenly realized what must have woke her. She couldn't remember what she'd been dreaming, or if she'd been dreaming at all, but there was a pulsing ache between her legs, a want unrivaled by the day's more mild arousal. Her hips instinctively shifted back into Chloe's, then forward in desperate need of something. She whimpered when she was met with nothing. Her brain still felt fuzzy; her eyes closing. Beca was half asleep, and not altogether in control of herself.
Her right arm reached back to tangle into red curls at the older woman's temple. She tugged gently as her lips parted to release a breath of air that carried the girl's name.
She felt Chloe stir just a little, releasing a quiet grunting sound in response.
"Chloe," she breathed again, her voice more desperate, nearly whining.
"Mm?"
Things were hazy for Beca. She felt almost drunk, and it was that state, honestly, that allowed her to feel comfortable saying what she probably should have said much earlier in the evening, before they had fallen asleep.
"I need you," she begged. Beca's chest pounded as she waited for an answer. She wasn't sure if Chloe had heard her, or if she was even awake, but after a moment of delay Beca felt Chloe's body stiffen, muscles tensing, the fingers dipped below the waistline of her panties flexing straight, causing them to dip just a little further. "Chloe, please."
Beca felt the redhead's other hand move to swipe her hair away, then felt pressure on her pelvis as Chloe moved forward and pressed her lips to the back of Beca's neck with a soft moan. The contact felt good and Beca released a breath as Chloe's tongue pushed flat against her spine. Fingers tangled into brown hair and pulled, her scalp lightly stinging from the effort. A smooth leg slipped between her own, wrapping itself around the one beneath it, quickly followed by the sensation of hips crashing into her backside, Chloe's palm pressing flat against her to force Beca's body impossibly closer.
She felt Chloe exhale a hot breath against her neck. There was a moment of pause, like Chloe was going to say something, but then didn't, opting instead to crane her neck enough to suck at the flesh below Beca's ear. The brunette moaned as teeth pulled at her skin, arm winding around and grabbing a fistful of red hair to hold the girl in place. Beca's hips rocked subconsciously, but Chloe took it as a cue and slid her hand further down. She wasted no time in teasing, instead pressing two fingers firmly against Beca's clit, who hissed as her body writhed in response.
Beca's mind was still a blur. She couldn't be sure if she was awake, or still sleeping. This felt like a dream. Maybe it was a dream? Then again, recognition that this could be a dream was probably a telltale sign that it wasn't.
It didn't matter, and the thoughts were quickly forgotten in favor of focusing on the instinctive squirm of her own body, on Chloe's rhythm, on the feel of the redhead's mouth on her skin. Her tongue was wet, her breath hot. Beca's brow furrowed as she concentrated on the sensation. One hand still twisted in Chloe's hair, the other traveled down and gripped the back of Chloe's, expertly guiding the girl's actions. She held Chloe's hand still as she thrust her hips against the pressure, gradually increasing the pace, grunting something raw and very unladylike at the peak of each movement.
"Beca…" Chloe's voice echoed with something like astonishment, perhaps more like wonder, or true breathlessness. The sound set Beca's brain short circuiting. The thought that she could make the redhead feel that by doing something as simple as this momentarily overwhelmed her. Chloe's free hand danced against the skin of her collarbone beneath the brunette's oversized t-shirt, her touch sending little electric shock waves through Beca's chest as it tightened.
Beca's breath caught in her throat as she prodded Chloe's hand down further, leading the girl's fingers through wet heat, and stopping when they reached her entrance. She removed her hand. "Please, Chlo," she begged. Chloe didn't need any further instruction. Beca inhaled sharply as she felt fingers push inside.
"Is this what you needed?" Chloe whispered, voice gravelly. The sound made Beca weak. Her brow furrowed, her eyes squeezed shut, teeth cutting into her own lip as she felt Chloe's hand pump with a few rough thrusts, thumb pressing tight circles against her. She tried to hold back the whimper that came out sounding more strangled and desperate than if she had just let it go. Something about that made her whimper again, louder and more confident this time, yet somehow still so very pathetic.
Unable to form words, she quickly nodded. Chloe's mouth reconnected with her neck, sucking hard as her hand found its rhythm. Without thinking, Beca's hips matched the pace. There was something about her sleepy state that enhanced every feeling. She felt like she was drowning in the sound of Chloe's breathing, of her own moans. There was an implicit lesson here about letting go. When only half awake, she was free to voice the things she wanted, what she needed, how she felt. Beca wasn't afraid of anything.
"Chloe," she groaned, head twisting into the pillow as she felt herself nearing the edge, but the pulse of the Chloe's movement suddenly faltered. Beca heard a noise escape the redhead's lips. It was a drowsy sort of grunt that let Beca know she was somewhere in between sleep and consciousness herself. Her arousal fell at Chloe's failing and she found herself gasping for breath, unfulfilled.
A manifestation of her frustration left her throat without her permission. Beca bucked her hips, which must have been enough to stir Chloe as her ministrations resumed as before. Beca again reflexively matched pace, her panting breath synchronizing with their shared effort. The earlier tease made it a bit more difficult, but she found herself building again. She reached her hand beneath her shirt to pinch her own nipple gently at first, but with increasing pressure as she felt herself climb higher and higher.
She was close. Her movements became a bit more erratic, even as Chloe maintained her rhythm. Beca felt the tiniest bit more pressure added to her clit, and that was it for her. She felt a flash of clarity burst through her mind's hazy fog like a bright light, and with a hard twist of her own fingers she cried out loudly as she came crashing down.
Chloe remained perfectly still as Beca rode out the feeling, her body quaking with tiny aftershocks. Her breathing began to steady, and her muscles began to relax in a way that made her realize just how tense they must have been when she woke. All at once, Beca felt extraordinarily exhausted, like she wouldn't be able to move even if she tried, sleep once again grabbing hold of her.
She made an attempt at saying Chloe's name, but couldn't be sure if she managed to voice it, or if she just said it aloud in her mind. As she succumbed and drifted off, she could hear the soft sound of the redhead snoring behind her.
Beca woke the next morning to the sound of Chloe's alarm, the opening, pulsing notes to "Good Day Sunshine" by The Beatles. Chloe had once told Beca that, growing up, her dad had sung it to her every morning as Chloe came downstairs for breakfast. Setting the song as her morning alarm was the first thing Chloe had done when she moved away to Barden University.
As her bedmate began to rustle awake, Beca's brain realized her body's current position. Chloe was still pressed against her, an arm wrapped around Beca's middle. The recognition that she had actually spent the whole night in Chloe's arms dawned on her like the clanging of a gong. It flipped her stomach and quite literally warmed her heart. A rogue thought twirled through her mind, one that strongly suggested that, perhaps, Beca would like to wake up this way every morning, but the brunette was quick to hamper the sentiment.
With a groan, Chloe rolled away from her to shut off the alarm. Beca's eyes flicked opened with unease as she felt the movement beneath her own shorts. Chloe removed her hand and the sound of Beca's waistband snapping made her flinch. She rubbed her lips together, eyes squinting shut as she realized that last night wasn't a dream. Her heart thumped twice loudly as an almost sickly feeling rumbled her stomach.
Beca realized, of course, that at this point it wasn't the act itself that had her concerned. No, it was the feelings that went along with it. What did this mean? Why did being with Chloe feel better than almost anything she'd ever felt before? She tried to remind herself to be cool, but anyone who spent any time with Beca Mitchell was quick to discover just how uncool she really was. She wasn't stupid. She could see herself falling for Chloe, and she was freaking out about it, especially since the second part of that thought was the realization that she was pretty sure she'd been falling for Chloe all along, like probably since freshman year…
"Morning, Becs," came Chloe's sweet voice the moment after the alarm stopped. The girl rolled back toward her, wrapped her arms around her once more, and took a deep breath.
"Morning."
"Sleep well?"
The question was innocent, but Beca's brain was in overdrive and she couldn't stop herself from assuming there was some implication there.
"Yeah," she mumbled. "Fine. You?"
Chloe took another deep breath, releasing it slowly. "Mm. Like a baby." The redhead stretched in a catlike manner as she yawned, then moved to sit at the edge of the bed. "I like holding you," she said plainly, as if it weren't a weird thing to say at all.
But of course it was weird, and Beca didn't know how to respond to it, or to the warm feeling that spread across her chest soon as Chloe said it. Beca watched as the girl stood and ambled toward the bathroom, the warm feeling rising in temperature and beginning to flood her cheeks as well. She couldn't stop it. She smiled.
Chloe turned on her heel just shy of the door. "And fucking you in the middle of the night?" she started, gesturing nonchalantly with her right hand. "That was aca-awesome."
Embarrassment rushed through Beca and she groaned, pulling the covers up and over her head as she listened to Chloe's delighted giggles. Beca stayed in her blanket cocoon even after she heard the bathroom door open and shut.
Chloe was right, though. Beca was willing to admit it to herself. She just didn't want to admit it out loud. After spending the day imagining Aubrey and Chloe together, the relief the redhead gave her last night was so desperately needed it was practically necessary.
Aubrey. Shit.
The blonde was arriving tonight, and Beca felt conflicted about it. She wanted to see Aubrey. She… missed her, which was a strange sort of thought to have, but she allowed herself to have it, reminding herself that she'd grown rather close to Aubrey over the past weeks. More than that, though, Beca wanted to talk to the older woman about the slow comprehension of the feelings she had for Chloe. She needed to talk to someone about it, anyway. Jesse still wasn't an option. She had to talk to Aubrey.
There was a part of her brain, too – a part Beca deemed far too twisted and wholly idiotic – that wanted to tell Aubrey about the dream she had on the airplane. It was odd, but she felt like she owed it to Aubrey, in a way, to admit to her that, at the very least, her subconscious mind was… well, thinking about her. Beca wanted to tell her that she had fantasized about her and Chloe kissing, that she had enjoyed the thought, that it had aroused her, if for no other reason than to simply hear Aubrey tell her it was okay to have those sorts of thoughts.
But Beca already knew that, she supposed. Aubrey had already told her that, before Beca had ever thought about it at all. So she already knew Aubrey would only repeat her earlier claim.
That realization made Beca wonder why Aubrey had given her permission in the first place. It was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy; like knowing she had the freedom to do so is what made Beca have those thoughts at all.
Perhaps that was all it was. Aubrey had planted the thought in her head, and so her unconscious had forced that dream upon her. It was only natural that she would then dwell on it. It was new. It was out of the ordinary. Her brain had to make sense of it somehow.
She heard Chloe emerge from the bathroom then. "Come on, sleepyhead," Chloe chirped in a voice much, much too chipper for this early in the morning. "You've got to get up. We've got one last rehearsal."