“Whoops!” Chloe stoops to pick up the pile of mail Beca knocked off the kitchen counter with her elbow when she’d leaned on it to dramatically drop her face to her hands. It’s the fifth (sixth?) thing she’s picked up for Beca this week under similar circumstances: a dropped phone (twice), the television remote, her eyeliner while they did their makeup side-by-side, and an entire basket of laundry which had tumbled down the stairs to the basement along with a string of Beca’s finest curse words. “What’s going on with you lately?”
“Nothing,” Beca huffs behind her hands.
Chloe’s eyes survey the room in the hope of getting more insight than that from one of the other girls hanging out waiting for the stack of pizzas they ordered to arrive.
“Her well is dry,” Stacie offers while she drinks from a cup Chloe knows contains more than only Diet Coke.
Chloe laughs in amused confusion. “What?”
Beca groans and drops her head onto crossed arms. “Stace.”
“There’s no meat in her taco.”
Chloe’s confusion evaporates and she twists to look at Beca again to see the tips of her ears already turning red. She knows Beca and Jesse broke up recently, though no one’s been able to ascertain exactly when as Beca is rarely forthcoming about personal things. One day she had a boyfriend, one day she, without any formal announcement, implied she no longer had a boyfriend, and nothing further was spoken about the matter.
“You mean she’s all clumsy because—”
Beca’s voice is muffled. “I’m just stressed out about Nationals.”
“Because she needs to get laid,” Stacie finishes, steamrolling right over Beca’s excuse and resulting in cautious giggles from Jessica and Ashley. “And she doesn’t believe in masturbation.”
“Stacie! Seriously?” Beca sits up and she’s sporting a full blush. Chloe finds it adorable. “I told you that in confidence! And that isn’t even what I said!”
“Oh, no!” Chloe empathizes; it’s been several months since she’s slept with anyone, partly due to focusing so much on the Bellas and mostly due to being in love with her co-captain. She’s also some combination of elated and intrigued that Beca has, apparently, not had sex in some length of time and that she has, apparently, disclosed her state of unfulfilled arousal to Stacie. Part of her feels sad that Beca hadn’t come to her with such a thing, but then again, if there was anyone in the house to go to for any kind of sexual advice, Stacie would be the best choice.
“You’re jittery because you’re horny?” Chloe’s not an idiot; she knows that’s exactly what Beca’s problem is, but it’s too tantalizing to let it go so quickly. Beca’s fun to rile up.
Beca’s palms connect with the counter and her back straightens, chin held high. “You know what? I’m a red-blooded woman with biological needs and I’m not going to let you guys harass me for it.”
“No one’s harassing you, Bec,” Chloe says even though she’s laughing.
“We just forget you’re human sometimes,” Ashley pipes up from across the room and the boldness earns a gasp from Jessica.
“You know how I get if I go more than a few days without it,” Stacie says with a shrug and another sip from her cup. “No judgment here.”
Beca pushes her barstool away from the counter with a deafening screech and leaves. “Screw you guys; text me when the pizza’s here.”
“I mean, you could, and you’d solve your problem right now.”
“Fuck you!” echoes back from the stairs.
Chloe turns to stare at Stacie who’s already looking at her with a knowing smile.
Because, again, if there’s one person in the house to go to for sex advice, it’s Stacie. Chloe’s confided in her the past three years. Specifically, about her suffocating attraction to Beca.
“I set that up perfectly for you. What are you waiting for?”
Chloe gives Jessica and Ashley a furtive glance but they’re the least gossip-prone girls of the house. “Right now?!” she whispers harshly anyway. It feels weird to speak about any potential anything between Beca and her in front of other people.
“Why not?” Stacie shrugs and looks past Chloe as if Beca’s right there, but Chloe knows she isn’t. She heard her stomp up the steps a few seconds ago. “Now she’s horny and mad. What could be better?”
“Shush,” Chloe says and ignores the look Stacie gives her when she takes a step backward. Backward in the direction of Beca. “I’m going to go apologize. I think we went too far.”
“Apologize with your tongue.”
Chloe thinks she might actually blush from Stacie’s comment, which is a feat, and turns to walk away before it sets in. “That’s usually how speaking works; thanks!”
Chloe doesn’t go directly to Beca’s attic room. She doesn’t really have any expectations but if she knows one thing about herself, it’s that she tends to be impulsive and has been known to blow up even her best-laid plans.
And maybe if she blows up her plan to apologize to Beca for making her uncomfortable and offering to be an ear if she wants to talk about her break-up and somehow ends up…
She chastises herself even as she changes out of boring beige cotton briefs in favor of black lace. She has no expectations, none whatsoever. But if she does do something to surprise herself, she’d prefer to be in peak form to keep her confidence high. Something tells her that if she does do something and Beca actually agrees to it, Beca might not be the most relaxed, comfortable person in such a scenario and Chloe will have to compensate.
Beca’s door is predictably closed when she arrives, so she knocks.
“I said text me when the pizza’s here.” Beca’s voice grows louder as crosses the room to throw open the door with palpable irritation. “Oh.”
Chloe smiles. “Hi.”
“Here to mock me some more?” Beca sighs as she turns around and climbs the steps to return to her bed, though she doesn’t tell Chloe to leave.
“No,” Chloe says as she enters and closes the door. “I came to apologize.” Apologize with your tongue. She tries to push Stacie’s comment out of her mind.
Beca’s lying on her bed staring at the ceiling when Chloe reaches the landing. She doesn’t offer a further greeting so Chloe assumes her silence is indicative that she does need to apologize.
“I’m sorry,” she says when she gets to the side of Beca’s bed. When Beca glances at her and sighs (again), she accepts the unspoken invitation to sit. “What you’re dealing with is perfectly natural and I shouldn’t have let Stacie tease you about it. And I shouldn’t have joined in. Or laughed.”
Beca huffs and folds her hands over her stomach. Chloe can’t help but watch the way they interlock, can’t help her mind reminding her how soft Beca’s hands are, how often she’s felt them, though never in the places or ways she aches for. “What do you know, anyway?” Beca asks bitterly. “I always see you hooking up with people when we go out.”
Chloe wonders if it’s jealousy she hears lacing Beca’s tone but tries not to get hung up on it. “Bec,” she says with a gentle nudge to Beca’s side with her finger to make her squirm, “I don’t sleep with them.”
Beca’s eyes slide to the side to land on her but she doesn’t say anything.
“We just make out. It’s fun. I haven’t slept with anyone since Thanksgiving.” It had been a high school friend while she was home for the holiday and it had been more awkward than anything. She’s not sure why she feels the need to tell Beca she isn’t sleeping with the people she kisses in bars and at parties, but she does sense Beca’s tension beginning to ease.
They’re both quiet for a long moment until she sees Beca start to smile. “Dude, you haven’t gotten laid in six months?”
Chloe rolls her eyes. “Hush. It’s not for lack of prospects.”
“And I thought my three was bad. I need to get my shit together.”
Chloe laughs and makes note of the three months. It gives her a rough time frame of when Beca’s relationship may have ended.
“You know,” Chloe starts.
She intends to finish with, “if you want to talk about what happened with Jesse, I’m here for you.”
Instead, what comes out is, “we could help each other out.”
Good ol’ Chloe Marie Beale. Impulse and instinct in the driver’s seat instead of reason.
“What?” Beca asks and lifts her head.
She bites her lip for a second, trying and failing to get a read on the look Beca’s giving her. “You’re so wound up that you can’t get through the day without breaking something.”
Beca sits up until she’s supporting herself with her arms behind her. She doesn’t say anything, though.
“Let me help you.” She chooses to remove the proposition of mutual relief from the table. It feels like a much smaller mountain to scale.
“Help me…?” Beca squints at her as though she’s confused but Chloe can tell she knows exactly what Chloe means.
“With your jitters.” She smiles as she says it and hopes she doesn’t look as nervous as she feels.
“Dude,” Beca laughs. “What?”
“I know what you meant.”
Chloe shuts up, but just for a second. “I want to. But only if you want me to. Obviously.”
Beca’s face is unreadable again, some combination of astonishment and amusement. “You’re literally saying you want to fuck me.”
Chloe imagines herself looking like a cartoon character, one whose eyes bug out several feet and neck stretches so long their head hits the ceiling as they react. “That’s not—”
“That’s exactly what you said.”
“No, Beca,” she’s not sure why she’s saying ‘no.’ “I didn’t mean—why do you have to say it that way? It sounds so vulgar.”
“You’re sitting on my bed propositioning me for sex and I’m vulgar?” Beca’s definitely bewildered; her tone tells Chloe that. She’s also blushing.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s just pretend this never happened; I’ll go.” Chloe stands to leave but feels Beca’s hand graze her knee as she does so.
She freezes and glances back. Beca’s on her side now, and she’s looking at her own hand as if it betrayed her and withdraws it.
“Do you want me to go?” she asks quietly.
Beca shifts and Chloe’s not quite sure what her ultimate goal is until she’s moved far enough toward the wall in her small twin-sized bed to leave half the bed empty. “You can stay,” she answers, though doesn’t quite meet Chloe’s eyes. She gestures at her bed. “Maybe we can talk about it?”
“Okay,” Chloe says with a smile as she sinks into the space Beca’s made for her to settle onto her side, face to face with Beca only a few inches away. This close, she can see how nervous Beca is and that she’s doing a pretty good job at hiding it. Beca always likes to act like she’s cool as a cucumber in any situation, but Chloe knows better. “We can talk about it.”
“So,” Beca starts. She pauses, but Chloe waits for her. “You, uh…” she pauses once more and then finds her footing. “Do you make it a habit to proposition all your friends?”
Chloe giggles and shakes her head. “No. Of course not.”
“Of course not?”
There’s a further unspoken question there; Chloe hears it. “You’ve been kind of a walking catastrophe lately. Someone needs to intervene.”
Beca smiles and it’s genuine and warms Chloe’s heart like it always does. “So it’s an act of charity.”
Chloe squints. “More like self-preservation. Or homeowner’s insurance?”
“Fuck you,” Beca laughs.
Chloe’s quick. “Is that an offer? Because this was supposed to be about you.”
Beca’s cheeks flush again but she doesn’t try to hide it. “I’ve never slept with a friend before. And don’t say we sleep together all the time; you know that’s not what I mean.”
Chloe bites her tongue; they know each other so well by now. It’s one of the many, many things she’s come to love about her relationship with Beca. “I don’t really make it a habit, either, you know,” she says gently instead. “I don’t like knowing you’re—”
“—in need of relief, is how I was going to finish that,” Chloe says with a laugh. “But yes.”
“Stacie’s horny, like, all the time.”
“You’re different.” Chloe maybe says those words too quickly to not raise some kind of suspicion that they hold more meaning than they seem to at face value.
If Beca interprets them that way, she doesn’t let on. She’s quiet for a moment and Chloe lets her study her; she can see Beca thinking about it, considering all possibilities whether good or bad. Beca’s always been the level-headed one of the group and now is no different.
“I don’t want anything to be weird,” Beca eventually says. “And don’t say, ‘It will only be weird if we let it be weird’ because that’s what everyone always says.”
“Have you been propositioned like this often?” Chloe winks.
“I meant, like, on TV and in books and stuff.”
Chloe smirks just to tease her and she notices Beca start to blush again despite no suggestive exchange of words. She wonders if Beca’s imagining it. What it would be like to kiss each other, to slowly undress, to let fingertips dance over skin and draw one another to the peak of pleasure.
Beca shifts infinitesimally closer and Chloe swears her heart stops beating.
“Can I say, ‘maybe’?”
“You can say whatever you want.”
Beca’s eyes drift to Chloe’s lips as she speaks and Chloe has to remind herself to breathe. “Okay. Maybe.”
Chloe’s glad she’s already lying down; her knees would have surely given out otherwise upon hearing Beca taking it under consideration. “It’s totally up to you. It was a no-pressure, no-strings-attached offer.”
Beca’s smile is so gentle it’s barely there. But it’s there. “I know.” Then she starts smiling for real. “I feel like we should throw back tequila shots first or something.”
The suggestion makes butterflies explode in Chloe’s stomach. Because it sounded like Beca was actually ready to go for it. “Amy has a bar cart—” Chloe moves to get up again to help herself to Fat Amy’s extensive liquor collection proudly on display in a corner in her half of the room but Beca’s touch stops her again.
Beca's hand remains when Chloe stops and she holds her breath, watching Beca watch her own fingers as they twitch where they rest on the inside of Chloe’s right wrist.
“Have you thought about this?” Beca’s voice is the tiniest bit lower than usual, or maybe it’s just her quiet tone, but it makes Chloe dizzy.
“I wouldn’t have offered without thinking about it first.”
Beca’s lips curve for a second. “Good to know, but—” she pauses to take a breath “—I meant have you thought about this...before.”
The question jumpstarts Chloe’s previously stalled heart. It’s an unexpected question that points down the path she’s wanted to take for a very long time and she knows her answer wields much power.
“Yes,” she answers.
“Oh.” Beca’s reply is little more than an exhale.
Chloe itches to ask Beca the same question or to be asked to expand on her answer, but Beca’s silent for a long moment until she wets her lips and Chloe’s heart stops again.
“Maybe we just kiss and see what it’s like?”
Chloe’s pretty sure all major bodily functions are beginning to fail her: first her heart, then her stomach, now her ears, because she cannot believe them. Maybe her nervous system, too, because her skin won’t stop tingling where Beca’s fingers rest on it. Her instinct still works, though, and she has to fight to keep from pointing out that they have kissed before, many times in fact.
However, those were kisses in the most basic definition. Their lips touched to show affection. But they were platonic, casual, sometimes just someone (usually Chloe) being playful. They weren’t laden with meaning or meant for physical pleasure. And she knows that’s exactly what kind of kiss Beca’s suggesting tonight.
“Yeah, we can try that.” Chloe’s voice is what fails her this time, breaking mid-word and quivering and despite her intent to keep herself together because Beca would surely be nervous, and here they are, Beca being the one to push the timeline forward while Chloe tries to calm down.
“You’re nervous,” Beca says with another soft smile. “It’s okay; I’m nervous, too.”
And that’s another part of what she loves about Beca so much: even in this strange situation she’s found herself in that Chloe knows is making Beca squirm inside, she’s able to default into the caretaker role that she’s always had once she had settled in with the Bellas. “Chloe’s nervous? I’ll reassure her.”
“It’s not like we’ve never kissed before,” Beca continues with a more comfortable smile, and of course: of course she’s pushing her own nerves aside in this odd and monumental moment between them to echo Chloe’s own thoughts. “No pressure, right?”
“Right,” Chloe says with a heavy exhale and a smile. She so wants to be confident and self-assured right now but Beca has always been able to rattle her and tonight is no different.
“I’m just going to…” Beca doesn’t finish her sentence. She contorts herself to reach back and turn off her bedside lamp. It’s not completely dark; the single light bulb in the walk-in closet is on and swirling colors emanate from Beca’s MacBook screensaver sitting on her desk at the foot of the bed.
The darkness seems to bolster Chloe’s faltering boldness and she levers herself onto an elbow to be ready for Beca to turn back and when she does they’re much closer. Beca starts at the unexpected proximity.
“Oh,” is all she says, though.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Chloe says after a steadying breath. She’s impressed that Beca can’t hear the frantic beating of all the butterfly wings in Chloe’s stomach. “If that’s okay.”
Beca’s eyelashes flutter so quickly Chloe’s not sure if she’s even blinking. When she nods, Chloe feels hers do the same and she thinks she understands.
She leans forward and Beca’s eyes fall closed when she’s close enough to catch the apple scent from Beca’s shampoo. It’s so familiar to Chloe, one that’s come to trigger feelings of comfort and contentment because those things are synonymous with being close to Beca.
She catches herself hesitating when Beca moves. It’s small, barely noticeable if not for Chloe’s state of hyperawareness. Just a twitch of her right hand where it lays on the bed in the narrow space between them such that it grazes Chloe’s shirt. Just a quiet, slow breath as though she’s preparing.
“Hurry up, then,” Beca finally mumbles and Chloe wonders how long she’s been hovering. Too long, it would seem, according to Beca.
She considers apologizing but decides to take Stacie’s advice.
She leans forward and kisses Beca.
It’s silent for a long moment. Lips touching, unmoving. Several seconds pass until Beca pulls back.
Her comment—criticism?—is unexpected and it startles Chloe. “I wasn’t sure how to—”
“I already said ‘yes,’ so don’t overthink because then I’ll overthink. Now, come on.” Beca’s fingers, the ones that have been resting between them, curl into Chloe’s shirt to give it a small tug and though it doesn’t actually pull Chloe at all, its intent does and, heart pounding, Chloe leans in again.
Beca meets her halfway.
Beca doesn’t let her be hesitant about it.
This kiss isn’t like the dozens of pecks they’ve shared. It feels like the kiss you excitedly wait for at the end of an awesome date because you know it’s coming and you can sense you’re both waiting for it.
There’s a thoughtful sound from Beca as their lips touch, then separate briefly only to reconnect again at a different angle, and Chloe wonders what she’s thinking about. If she’s thinking that it’s weird that they’re kissing. Or if, like Chloe, she’s thinking that it shouldn’t be this easy to start making out with your friend, especially when free from inebriation. Or if, like Chloe, she’s thinking that it’s a pretty damn great first “real” kiss.
She’s still considering the thoughts Beca could be having when a purposeful change of angle and the graze of a tongue floors Chloe.
In every hypothetical, dreamlike scenario she’s imagined, Beca is shy. Beca is reserved. Beca is nervous. Beca is quiet. Beca is awkward.
Every hypothetical, dreamlike scenario but one, that is. And it has long been Chloe’s favorite. The source of as much heartache as private, impassioned release, it centers around Beca knowing what she wants, being bold, being demanding and confident. Even if she wanted to, Chloe wouldn’t be able to tally how many peaks of pleasure the fantasy has brought her.
Now, potential realities make themselves known as Beca is the one to ask for a bigger, better kiss, as Beca is the first to escalate it from a gentle touch to a French kiss as Chloe’s lips part so her tongue can meet Beca’s.
It makes her shiver and, if it didn’t mean removing her hand from where it has come to rest on Beca’s waist, she’d pinch herself to make sure this was real. She sighs into it and tries to keep still. Her body itches to move closer, to touch more of Beca, but she roots herself in place to make sure this experience lasts as long as possible. She can feel Beca move, though. She feels her arm leave where it’s rested against her own side and lightly atop Chloe’s hand and she keeps her eyes closed to let Beca surprise her.
She fails to control the whimper that escapes when Beca’s hand finds her cheek and grazes over it until fingers—the soft fingers Chloe thinks about so much—slide through Chloe’s hair and Chloe’s wholly unsure what she expected but for some reason, that wasn’t it, and her body reacts on instinct.
She mirrors the action and marvels (not for the first time) at how smooth Beca’s hair is. She moves closer than she previously deemed safe and when her knee bumps Beca’s, breathtakingly, Beca’s shift to let Chloe’s fit between her own.
It’s real, now. Chloe can feel herself slipping into the moment driven by a desire that’s only growing the longer they trade kisses. The longer they take turns playing with the other’s tongue, seeing if they can coax a sound from the other.
It’s that thought flits through her, that Beca’s actively trying to pull reactions from Chloe, that breathes oxygen to the flame burning inside Chloe.
She moans when Beca’s teeth catch her bottom lip and she can hear Beca react to it in the way her breathing changes. She moves, hand drawing from Beca’s hair to run down her arm and side until it’s on her hip, pressing gently to suggest Beca turn onto her back.
“Not enough room,” Beca mumbles against Chloe’s lips and Chloe has to pull back with a laugh.
“I’ll move,” Chloe says as she does so, sliding backward until she’s the one on the edge of the narrow bed and watches in disbelief as Beca scoots forward and lies back.
She must take too long, even though only a second or two passes, because Beca pats the tops of her thighs like she’s calling a pet to her lap. “Well?”
She moves to straddle Beca’s hips and she sits back on her knees, still in awe that she’s in this position. Literally and figuratively. “Well?” Chloe echoes.
“Well, what?” Beca’s hands rest low on her stomach where they fidget, eyes unable to hold Chloe’s gaze for more than a second or two before they’re skipping around, Chloe thinks, to not be obvious about her desire to take in the way they look together right now. Beca’s not uncomfortable, Chloe notes, but she is nervous.
“You well’d me first,” Chloe sasses. Her own hands struggle to find a place to rest that doesn’t feel like it looks aggressive, passive, or defensive and they finally settle atop Beca’s, which immediately stop fidgeting. “But I’m well’ing you back.” She softens her tone and squeezes Beca’s hands. “You okay?”
She shrugs nonchalantly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Beca’s eyes fall again, maybe to their hands, maybe to some part of Chloe. “I’m cool.”
Chloe squeezes her hands again. “Hey. Look at me.”
Beca meets her eyes and Chloe can see how hard Beca has to work to not look away again.
“We don’t have to keep going,” she says earnestly.
Beca’s eyes do stop moving then and hold steady on Chloe’s. “Did I say I didn’t want to?”
Chloe has to swallow in order to get her voice to work. “No; I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“Are you comfortable?” Beca asks in return.
“I make a pretty good seat, huh?” Beca smiles as she says it. Even lifts her hips to give Chloe a bump and though it’s likely not the intended effect, it makes Chloe gasp. “Oh,” Beca says, hearing it. “You don’t want to stop, do you.” She says it like it’s a factual conclusion. And she’s not wrong.
“This isn’t about me,” Chloe says with a shake of her head and a small smile.
“You already told me you think about it.”
“I said I’ve thought about it,” she corrects, even though Beca’s already correct.
“Liar,” Beca says, seeing right through her. Like usual. And Beca is starting to smile, which, in this particular situation, feels dangerous. “How many times have you thought about it?”
Chloe is very much trapped even though Beca’s the one pinned by a person sitting astride her. “It’s not like I keep count.”
“Keep count?” Beca’s smile grows. “Present tense. So, this is like, a recent thing.” Chloe starts to reply but Beca keeps going. “If you don’t keep count, then how often?”
“Beca,” she says with a laugh, shy and aroused and excited and nervous all at once. She really didn’t expect her evening to unfold this way. Her lack of answer seems to satisfy Beca, though, because her friend’s smile turns unfairly attractive in its smugness.
“That is really fucking hot.” Beca slides her hands from beneath Chloe’s to place them on Chloe’s thighs and Chloe, thoroughly losing her senses again, rocks her hips forward at the contact. “Oh, wow,” Beca says as soon as it happens and Chloe can see the intrigue on Beca’s face from her higher vantage point. “So is that.” Beca’s own hips shift between Chloe’s thighs and while it could be as much out of general shifting for comfort, the fact that it could be driven by arousal—Beca’s arousal that Chloe has contributed to—makes Chloe bite her lip so she doesn’t say something wildly inappropriate.
“I’ve thought about it, too.”
It’s an unexpected and unprompted confession that makes Chloe’s heart want to leap out of her chest. “Oh?” she manages to ask though it sounds entirely too airy to come across as anything but turned on. It also isn’t helping that Beca’s hands are very, very slowly but steadily moving higher up Chloe’s thighs and it’s all Chloe can do to sit still and keep her hands to herself.
Beca shrugs one shoulder and her eyes remain focused on her own hands, seemingly transfixed as they reach Chloe’s hips and keep moving toward her waist where they stop. “I really don’t want to ruin anything.” She looks up and meets Chloe’s eyes.
“I think we’re bigger than that,” Chloe says as she lets her hands rest on Beca’s stomach. The contact moves the hem of Beca’s shirt and Chloe’s right thumb grazes bare skin. She doesn’t stop to think before she goes with it, letting her hand push the T-shirt up a few inches until her hand rests fully on the warm skin of Beca’s stomach. It turns concave beneath her palm and she hears Beca inhale. “Don’t you?”
Beca’s answer is delayed and Chloe watches with interest as Beca tries to school her face into something other than the surprise that came from Chloe’s direct contact. “It’s just sex, right?” Beca eventually says. Her hands are hot where they hold Chloe, like they could burn through her blouse and sear her skin.
It’s just sex, right? Chloe believes it’s a lot more than that. If it was with anyone else—literally, anyone else—it would be “just sex.” But it’s not. It’s Beca, and nothing is “just” anything when it comes to Beca for Chloe.
“Right,” Chloe says with a nod and lets her left hand join her right under the edge of Beca’s shirt. She wonders if they feel as hot to Beca as Beca’s do to her; she doesn’t think they could possibly be cold, but Beca shivers at the touch.
“Come down here.” Beca tugs at Chloe’s shirt again. It’s the second time she’s asked—demanded—Chloe to kiss her and Chloe bends at the waist to do exactly that.
Her hands have to abandon their comfortable, warm spot on Beca’s stomach with the change so she can support herself, but she doesn’t really mind. Not when Beca’s hands seem to be venturing into similar territory. Fingertips glide down Chloe’s sides and curve to catch the edge of her blouse where they graze along Chloe’s skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of Beca’s touch and Chloe dares to kiss Beca a little harder to encourage her to keep going.
Beca’s hands skate under the hem of Chloe’s blouse and brush over her stomach and she can’t help it: she flexes her abs and she hears Beca react immediately with a huff against her lips.
“Show-off,” is mumbled next and Chloe’s about to laugh when Beca seems to want to make a point of some kind because she kisses Chloe so thoroughly, so aggressively, that Chloe’s left elbow actually gives out for a second.
Beca makes a noise that Chloe thinks is probably born of smugness that she can’t help but think is deserved. Beca’s kissing her like she’s trying to prove something and what that could be, Chloe doesn’t know or care as long as Beca doesn’t stop.
Beca’s hands move higher, over Chloe’s ribs until she’s following them toward the center of Chloe’s chest where fingertips nick the band of Chloe’s bra.
Chloe tries to lock her mindset, to stay present, focused, even as her biceps burn and her tongue gets worked overtime because she knows what’s coming next and she’s unprepared for a reality where Beca touches her breasts for any reasons beyond accident or retaliatory injury. Her hands hesitate for an ungodly length of time, though, tracing back and forth along the lower edge of Chloe’s bra as though unable to commit to crossing the line even as she literally sucks on the tip of Chloe’s tongue.
“Beca,” she says when she’s able to pull her tongue away from her to sit back again. She has to; her arms are tired and she can’t afford them to be, not if things are going to keep escalating. Beca’s hands naturally slide down with the change of angle until she’s holding Chloe’s waist again. “Do you want me to take off my shirt?”
She watches Beca swallow, eyes somewhat fixated on Chloe’s torso until they finally lift and Chloe almost whimpers from how dark they’ve become. “Yeah, okay,” Beca says and her voice is noticeably huskier, too, and she nearly whimpers again. “If you want to.”
Her top, a loose-fitting V-neck, is easily lifted and tossed aside and she doesn’t let herself get caught up in the fact that she’s straddling Beca in bed, topless, and reaches for Beca’s hands to start dragging them up her body again.
She stops when she’s drawn Beca’s hands back to where they’d stalled and she releases them to wait for Beca to decide to move farther. She distracts herself by putting on a little bit of a show for Beca, stretching until her back arches and her head drops back. She weaves her fingers through her own hair to scratch at her scalp and fluff it as she sits up again, back straight, and watches Beca watch her own hands slide up to cover Chloe’s breasts through her bra.
She flashes a smile at Beca when she looks up for reassurance and then Chloe closes her eyes and sighs as Beca’s fingers gently explore. It’s a torturous pace but Chloe has no complaints despite her body’s demands for quick relief. She can’t quite stop her hips from beginning to slip into a slow rolling rhythm, though, and she feels Beca’s shift beneath hers after a few seconds. She thinks it might have been an accident until they start following Chloe’s rhythm.
It’s a rash decision, she would think later, but feeling Beca moving like that beneath her is doing things to Chloe’s brain she never thought possible. She reaches behind herself and unhooks her bra to take it off and drop it to the floor because she needs Beca’s hands on her breasts like she needs air.
She can see the surprise on Beca’s face but it’s laced with excitement and she does everything but grab Beca’s hands again and place them where she wants them. She waits, impatiently, as Beca considers, and then moans quietly when she decides and drags short fingernails lightly along the sides of her bare breasts until they’re fully in Beca’s hands.
Chloe curses under her breath and she reaches for the hem of Beca’s shirt, intent on removing it, but Beca chooses that second to squeeze and Chloe has to stop and experience it. She needs to close her eyes and pay attention to how it feels for her hard nipples to press into Beca’s soft palms. For her fingers to draw invisible lines across her skin, over her nipples once, twice, and again until they pinch slightly and give a subtle tug and Chloe curses more loudly.
A deep breath helps ground her as she opens her eyes to glance down and take in what it looks like to have Beca’s hands on her this way. She takes it in for a moment before she pushes at Beca’s shirt again. “You, too?” she asks.
Beca looks up at her and there’s a definite blush to her cheeks that Chloe thinks might be permanent by this point. She can see the question pass through her mind and then she’s nodding. Her hands drop and reach for her shirt to pull it up and off herself and she whips it somewhere, a move that steals Chloe’s breath.
She doesn’t stop there, though. Chloe watches, awestruck, as Beca arches her back enough to reach under herself and a second later, her bra is gone as well and just like that, they’re topless together.
“You’re so hot,” Chloe says as her hands move to touch Beca but stop short. “Can I—”
“Yes,” Beca says before she can even finish, eyes closing and head pressing into her pillow preemptively as Chloe’s hands settle over her breasts. Her lips part but no sound escapes and it’s somehow more erotic than if she had moaned.
There’s no subtlety in Chloe’s hips’ movement now; they’re rocking solidly and Beca’s moving beneath her just as purposely. She’s aching and as much as she knows she could drive herself to a release in this position, this entire event is supposed to be about Beca and her needs, not Chloe’s.
She lets her thumbs graze over the hard peaks of Beca’s breasts, something she previously experienced only in her fantasies and daydreams, and memorizes the way Beca’s breathing changes each time, especially when she slows down to draw lazy circles around them, and the way her neck strains and twists with her restless movements.
It draws Chloe in like a magnet and she leans down, having to relinquish Beca’s left breast to support herself again and she presses wet, open-mouthed kisses along Beca’s neck.
Beca arches beneath her again, this time an airy whimper escaping as she tilts her head in a request for more, which Chloe readily gives by sucking a mark into Beca’s skin and soothing it with her tongue.
Apologize with your tongue.
She almost laughs when she hears Stacie’s suggestion again; it had seemed ludicrous not even an hour ago and now Beca’s moaning in her ear while Chloe plays with her nipple.
She scoots backward, only an inch or two at first, when she can’t continue kissing down Beca’s neck. She kisses down now, over her left collar bone and across the expanse of warm skin below it until she’s moving back again, lips beginning to travel up the gentle swell of the top of Beca’s breast. She’s ready to pause and ask if it’s okay when fingers tangle into her hair, not to pull her away but to urge her closer.
Beca’s breathing heavily above her; she can hear it as much as she can feel it with how quickly her chest rises and falls beneath her lips until her lips find the peak. She kisses it gently and Beca stops breathing entirely for a long moment. She kisses it again and lets her tongue flick over it and Beca moans, loudly, to restart her breathing.
“Fuck,” Beca pants, body restless under Chloe. While her left hand clings to the back of Chloe’s head to keep her where she is, the right rakes along her back until it follows her ribs again to find Chloe’s left breast. Her grip isn’t gentle or tentative; Beca grabs Chloe roughly like she means it, like she’s desperate, and it makes Chloe close her lips over Beca’s nipple to suck on it. “Fuck,” Beca repeats, voice strained, and Chloe looks up to see her head thrown back. She’s tense and Chloe has the sudden realization that Beca’s close and she has to first process that before she can decide if she’s going to see it through right now or interrupt the crescendo because she hasn’t even gotten Beca’s pants off her yet.
She lets go of Beca’s nipple and receives a groan of frustration in response and she immediately slides back until she’s kneeling between Beca’s ankles and her fingers curl into the waist of the sweatpants Beca’s wearing. She doesn’t pull, not without knowing Beca’s sure, and her confirmation comes by way of Beca lifting her hips to let her take them off.
Beca’s eyes are on her as she does it. And so are her own: she watches as her hands guide Beca’s pants down her legs until she’s bending her knees to help Chloe navigate them off her ankles. She watches as Beca immediately hooks her thumbs into her own underwear to slip them down her hips and out from under her to let Chloe remove them, as well, and she watches as Beca, nude and in bed, parts her legs so they again settle on either side of Chloe, feet flat and knees bent.
There’s not a specific intent behind that move, Chloe thinks. Just one of necessity because Chloe’s in the way of Beca being able to straighten her legs. But it’s a move nonetheless and though Beca turned off the lamp, it’s not dark and Chloe can see Beca. All of her. And she watches how quickly she’s still breathing, how she’s still yet every muscle seems to be restless.
Chloe’s hands follow the soft lines of Beca’s legs from her ankles, along her calves to her knees until they get to her thighs and slow their ascent.
“How do you want me to…?” she asks. She doesn’t want to have to ask; what she wants is to flip them both over and beg Beca to ride her face.
She hopes that desire isn’t too obvious when she glances at the darkness between Beca’s legs and her tongue wets her lips.
“I don’t care,” Beca quickly responds. Her eyes are fixated on Chloe like her life or death hinges on tracking every minuscule movement Chloe makes.
Chloe begins to ask if she’s sure but the desire she feels rolling off Beca and the way she’s looking at her answers her before she can speak. It makes her hands start moving again, centimeter by centimeter up Beca’s thighs until she feels heat. She can almost feel Beca but she hasn’t quite moved far enough before she stops, needing a moment of her own because she’s breathing so shallowly it’s making her light-headed.
“Please.” It’s scarcely a whisper but it gets Chloe’s attention. It’s all Beca says and it’s all Chloe needs to move her hand higher until it can go no farther. Until her thumb is nestled in the warm crease at Beca’s thigh. Not only is it warm, it’s wet and for the shortest of moments, her brain short-circuits.
“God, Beca,” she says as she stops thinking and starts feeling. She lifts her thumb and turns her wrist and with that small motion, she and Beca cross a heavy line. Her thumb finds Beca’s clit; it’s easy. It’s swollen. And it’s wet as her thumb glides over it.
Beca inhales so sharply she thinks she might have hurt her but then Beca’s hips are lifting and she’s moaning. “Wow, okay,” she says with a near laugh after the moan and Chloe looks up from her focus between Beca’s legs assuming Beca’s going to open her eyes and say something else, but she doesn’t. She parts her legs wider and lifts her hips again.
It makes Chloe want to melt into the bed and she thinks she just might do that soon. She slouches so her lips can touch Beca’s right knee, biting at it gently as she turns her hand to touch Beca more directly, pads of her fingers moving over her.
She wishes she’d had a chance to move up before this, to be able to kiss Beca while she touches her. She doesn’t want Beca to feel like she’s on display so Chloe makes it a point to keep her eyes off her face, but Beca doesn’t seem self-conscious. Especially when she swears and moves her left hand to toy with her own nipple.
Chloe’s mesmerized by it until she’s driven by it. Her lips travel down Beca’s thigh, moving back and lying down as she goes. She can hear Beca above her breathing harder. She watches her thighs part wider. Feels how warm she is as her shoulders press under the backs of Beca’s thighs. Tastes how wet she is as her tongue draws a smooth line up between Beca’s legs.
“Oh, my God,” Beca groans. Chloe commits it all to memory because she wants to remember how it sounded, how she tasted the first time Chloe put her tongue on Beca. “Oh, my God, you’re really doing that. Okay.” The words are rushed and almost a moan themselves.
“Mhmm,” Chloe hums as she does just that again, this time moving her tongue downward. It completes her tongue’s first journey before it repeats it, slowly up and down, slipping over and alongside Beca’s clit.
Beca’s hips jerk when she travels across it a certain way and she avoids that; it’s too intense for Beca and she wants her to love every second of this and not be overwhelmed. Chloe licks at her slowly, fingers gently parting Beca to reach more of her. She’s wet. Wetter. Chloe can literally taste and feel how turned on Beca is right now and she moans, starting to lose herself.
Beca moans a second later like an answer or an echo. Her hips roll, pushing off the mattress and against Chloe’s tongue. Again and again as Chloe pleasures her. Fucks her. Eats her.
Chloe’s so aroused she knows she could come if she thinks about it too hard. She doesn’t know if Beca will return the favor after this. She hopes she will. And if she will, Chloe is willing to wait to let her do that. She wants Beca to summon her up after she comes, cheeks and chin still wet, to unbutton the jeans Chloe hates that she’s wearing right now, and put her hand down them to push her fingers into Chloe and let her ride them.
She has a distinct desire for them to ride each other, she notes at the second such thought of the night.
“Fuck, don’t stop,” Beca whines as she rolls her hips more quickly.
Chloe knows she’s there; she doesn’t really need to do anything else other than hold her rhythm steady, which she does. She gives Beca her tongue and lets her grind against it.
She moans when Beca’s hand is in her hair again, grabbing and pulling enough to sting as her breaths become disjointed, as her thighs press against Chloe’s ears, as Beca’s moan joins hers, only louder and longer, as she comes.
Chloe can’t stop moaning with her. Her own body quivers in empathy though she doesn’t quite orgasm. She can’t believe it.
She can’t believe that really happened.
She finds and gives a quick suckle to Beca’s clit and Beca’s entire body jolts. She releases it immediately; Beca’s too sensitive but she couldn’t help herself. She kisses it instead and Beca’s thighs finally relax and fall open.
“Jesus, fuck,” Chloe hears. “Oh, my God.”
She smiles to herself and licks at Beca again before a soft pull on her hair asks her to stop. She shifts to Beca’s thigh instead, kissing it for a moment before shifting up to kiss her abdomen, low and just above her neatly trimmed hairline.
“That was fucking amazing.” Beca heaves a sigh as she says it and Chloe feels how soft and malleable she is now; moments ago, she was tense, rigid with the need for release and now she’s pliable and still.
Chloe looks up at the compliment, resting her chin on Beca. “Thank you.” She smiles.
“You look ridiculously hot down there.” Beca covers her face as soon as she says it and Chloe finds it adorable. Bashful even in this moment of intimacy.
Chloe laughs and moves to kiss Beca’s stomach again. “I’m going to sit up in a second if you want one last look.”
She expects Beca to shake her head and say, “I’m good, thanks,” but instead her hands drop and she looks right at Chloe who, as soon as that happens, makes it a point to move down to tease her tongue against Beca, just for good measure, because she knows Beca’s watching her.
Beca’s hands turn into fists and she presses them to her mouth with a hum. She clearly wants to say something and is fighting it.
“What?” Chloe asks, amused. She rests her cheek against Beca’s leg and lets her hands wander, tracing light patterns along the tops of Beca’s thighs.
“I want to ask you to do it again but I don’t know if that’s okay.”
Chloe raises her eyebrows at the direct and clear honesty. It’s surprising but welcome. “I can do it again.”
“No,” Beca says but then quickly shakes her head. “I mean, not yet. Just...come up here? I want to kiss you.”
Beca just said she wants to kiss Chloe. Said she wants Chloe to use her tongue to bring her to orgasm. Again. But not before Chloe kisses her. Again.
She moves up, less concerned about supporting her weight now that she can lie between Beca’s legs and rest against her. She kisses her and Beca moans softly. She wonders if it’s just from the kiss or because Beca can taste herself on Chloe’s mouth. Either is hot and Chloe’s still on fire and Beca’s moan fuels it. She kisses her more deeply and feels Beca’s arms rest against her back, feels hands push into her hair to keep it out of the way.
“Bec,” she breathes before kissing Beca again. “I really need to—to—just…” She tries to move off Beca; her intent is to leave the room, return to her own, glance in the general direction of her pussy, and come. “I only need a minute.” She somehow makes it off the bed and to her feet even though Beca’s arms try to hold onto her.
Beca sits up as soon as Chloe’s off the bed. “Where are you going?”
“I will absolutely go down on you again, but I’m going to go insane if I don’t get off first,” she says perhaps too directly in her heightened state of arousal. Beca doesn’t flinch.
“Then why are you leaving?”
She closes her eyes and takes a breath. Now’s not the time to be dense, Beca. “I need to go touch myself.”
“But I’m right here.”
Chloe’s about to say, “That’s why I need to leave,” when she realizes what Beca‘s implying. She gapes. “What?”
“I mean,” Beca says as she hypnotically turns onto her knees and moves to be in front of Chloe, “it’s the least I can do.” Her hands reach for the button on Chloe’s jeans and undo it without waiting for a response.
Chloe watches Beca unbutton her jeans, pull the zipper down, and push them over her hips to the ground. “Oh,” she says, dumbfounded, as Beca reaches for the black lace she so carefully chose in case she found herself in this very position.
“You...wow,” Beca says as Chloe steps out of the last pieces of clothing to push them aside with her foot. “Can I touch you?”
“Please, Beca,” Chloe says a little too desperately and need pushes her forward until she’s on her knees on Beca’s bed again and Beca’s moved all the way back to sit up against her headboard.
With Chloe naked astride her naked lap.
“Please,” Chloe repeats as she leans down to kiss her. She feels Beca’s hands on her back, on her waist, on her thighs until, with precious little warning, one of them presses between her legs.
She almost combusts but bites her lip to stop it. She wants to enjoy this even for a minute or two before it’s over. Beca’s touching her. Moving her fingers between Chloe’s legs, back and forth slowly and paying particular attention to where so much wetness has gathered before drawing it up higher so her fingers can easily slide against Chloe’s clit.
The position makes it easy for Chloe to rock herself with Beca’s touch so she does. She kisses her, plunders Beca’s mouth with her tongue as she quickly loses herself in riding Beca’s fingers just like she’d hoped to. Beca moans with her, almost in harmony which feels appropriate. The hand not working furiously between Chloe’s legs presses against Chloe’s lower back, pulling her in again and again.
There’s no hint that Beca’s about to do what she’s about to do, so Chloe forgets how to breathe when two fingers slip inside her with ease, deep until she’s rubbing against the palm of Beca’s hand.
“Holy shit, you feel amazing,” Beca says with a gasp. She doesn’t move right back to kissing Chloe; instead, she moves down to suck at her neck briefly before she drops her forehead to Chloe’s shoulder.
It’s too much for them to kiss during; Chloe can barely breathe as it is. She squeezes Beca’s shoulders, then moves to grip the back of her neck for closeness, her other hand grasping the headboard that’s starting to bang against the wall with Chloe’s thrusts.
“Beca,” she gasps. She says it more for herself than anyone; she’s moaned it in fantasy so many times, she needs to do it for real. To hear what she sounds like when it’s really Beca fucking her and not herself longing to know what it could be like. She’s wild, frantic, on the edge and deliberately holding off because it’s already euphoric. She’s almost scared that she won’t be able to withstand the intensity of the orgasm that she’s desperately trying to deny for the sake of more pleasure. “Beca, oh, my God, baby,” she moans again and cries out when Beca’s hand is actually forceful against her. She’s fucking Chloe—hard. Sweating from the exertion. Fucking her like she wants to be doing it, not like she has to. It makes Chloe’s hips rise, to hold herself up, to almost stop her frantic thrusting completely because Beca is fucking her so well it almost hurts. “Oh, shit, you’re gonna make me come,” she whines in Beca’s ear before moving so she can look down between them to watch Beca do just that.
“Fuck,” Beca mutters. “Fuck,” again. “Fuck. Come for me.”
Chloe’s world shatters.
Three words is all it takes.
She can hear Beca moaning with her. Swearing with her. Feels her arm wrap around Chloe’s waist to pull her down and keep her close as her hips buck wildly. Lips move across her chest with hot breaths until Beca’s head is tilting so her mouth can reach Chloe’s breast.
She’s gentle as first her lips, then her tongue touches Chloe’s nipple and Chloe is grateful. She clings to Beca as she starts to come back to herself. Beca’s touches don’t falter even as Chloe sighs to signal her return to full consciousness. They change, though, and Beca does lift her head to rest it against the headboard that Chloe’s still clinging to and looks up at her.
“That was...insanely hot,” Beca says with a deep sigh. She’s still inside Chloe and if she’s forgotten, Chloe doesn’t want her to remember and withdraw. It takes everything Chloe has to not squeeze her fingers lest she reminds her where she is. “Like, I’ve never had sex that hot before.”
Beca’s chatty after sex? Not something Chloe had considered, but she likes it. “No?” Chloe says, still hoping to keep Beca from realizing she hasn’t pulled out yet. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Beca smiles and angles her wrist so her thumb glides across Chloe’s still-swollen clit. It makes Chloe sag and whimper and Beca’s smile grows. “Seriously. So hot.”
Chloe has to hum for a few seconds because Beca doesn’t exactly stop playing with her, though she’s doing it so slowly it’s almost absentminded. The precision, however, tells Chloe she’s very aware of what she’s doing and how she’s doing it. “Maybe now you’ll stop breaking everything,” she manages after gathering herself.
Beca squints up at her. A mock glare. Then her look changes to something else. “I don’t know.” Something suspiciously innocent. “I still feel a little clumsy.”
When Chloe realizes how far her jaw dropped at Beca’s shamelessness she snaps it closed with a click and gets a knowing smirk as a result. “I already said I’ll do it again.”
“I mean, I kind of have, like, months to undo, right? And you have twice that.” Beca removes her fingers then and Chloe whimpers at the loss. She feels them a moment later resting warm and wet against her thigh.
Chloe has to process Beca’s sly comment. She has to take in her suggestion that they do this again, and not just tonight but for months to come.
It sounds a lot like Beca’s asking Chloe to be in a relationship, or, at the very least, to continue this arrangement of tending to one another’s sexual needs for the foreseeable future.
Unsure which of those it is and afraid to ask in case it’s a proposition to be ongoing friends with benefits, she just nods and leans in to kiss Beca again. Because that’s something she can do now, at least in this particular setting: she can kiss Beca, and trail her fingertips down her neck and over her breasts to her stomach where they have to stop because their position won’t let them go any farther.
A loud knock on Beca’s door interrupts them with a scare; if it wasn’t for Chloe not caring if people see her naked—present company excluded, as she cares very much about that—and sitting in Beca’s lap unhurried to retrieve clothing, she’s sure Beca would be diving for cover if the look of panic on her face is anything to go by.
But when the door doesn’t open, her panic turns to irritation. “Seriously?” Beca says, almost whining, and Chloe makes sure to appreciate her disappointment.
“Shh,” Chloe smiles before kissing her. “Don’t be mean. Whoever it is is your friend.”
Beca grunts in annoyance but turns her head so she can shout toward the door, “What!”
“Is Chloe finished apologizing yet?” It’s Stacie. “Pizza’s here.”
The look Beca shoots Chloe makes her want to wither and hide. “I can explain.”
Beca starts to speak, stops, then says, “You know what? I don’t even want to know. Tonight’s ending on a high note and I’m gonna take that. Thanks, Stace!”
Relief washes over Chloe; not that she thought Beca would be mad, not really, but she didn’t want her to be upset that Chloe confided in Stacie about something personal that could be considered conspiratorial if one wanted to look at it through that lens.
“So, do you want to go have pizza with the girls?” she asks, hitching her thumb toward Beca’s door. There’s a long pause, much too long for such a basic question, and Beca’s hands squeeze where they still sit on Chloe’s thighs. “Or do you want me to go down on you again?”
Beca’s eyes snap to hers as if she’s about to protest in offense but instead, she sighs and says, “I really didn’t want to have to ask.”
Chloe laughs; it’s far too effortless to be this way with Beca. It’s their first time together but she feels so at ease with her and can’t help but think Beca must feel the same to be this comfortable with each other. “You can ask me anytime you want.” She kisses Beca again, this time with more intent, more tongue, before she’s moving off Beca’s lap so they can both shift to let Beca lie down.
“Is now a good time? Do I need to ask you right now?” It’s banter, Chloe knows. It’s cute, this side of Beca. Cute and sexy as she takes no shame in making herself comfortable, even sliding one of her extra pillows beneath her hips to make it easier for Chloe. Chloe’s always found Beca unfairly hot when her confidence shows and she can sense it coming to the surface more the longer they’re cooped up in Beca’s room and stripped bare together.
Chloe settles between Beca’s legs, chin on her thigh as she looks up at her. “No, but you could say, ‘please.’” She winks and then laughs when Beca rolls her eyes. Even now, in this position, they’re still friends. It’s not weird. It’s not going to be weird. She’s sure of that now and she hopes Beca’s realizing that as well.
“Will you get me off, please?” Beca says and Chloe knows she’s joking with her choice of words even if she’s serious with the request.
“Well, when you put it that way…” Chloe smiles and moves to kiss between Beca’s thighs once again but Beca stops her with a hand to her head.
“Hey, this isn’t weird, right?”
Chloe laughs and pushes herself onto her elbows so it’s easier to see each other. “So creepy. I was literally just thinking that.”
“What, that it’s weird?” Beca says quickly and worry crosses her features.
“No,” Chloe smiles. “That it doesn’t feel weird at all. Do you think it does?”
Beca gives a shake of her head. “No. It feels...pretty fucking good.”
“Well, that’s kind of the point,” Chloe teases. “But maybe you didn’t realize it since you’ve never had sex this good before.”
“Don’t mock me,” Beca says as defiantly as she can given her prone and quite vulnerable position.
Chloe pouts her lips. “Aw, I’m sorry.” Then she smiles. “Wait, I take that back. I know a better way to apologize.”
Beca’s brow furrows in confusion for a second until Chloe’s leaning down to tease her tongue against Beca, still hot and wet, maybe even more so than before.
“Yeah, okay,” Beca exhales as her head drops back to her pillow and her fingers comb through Chloe’s hair. “I forgive you.”