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“It would be so hot,” Chloe says, twining their fingers together.

Beca wonders if Chloe has employed this particular tactic before, but the mental image of Chloe as she is now – naked, straddling her hips, and smiling down at her with a smile that manages to be both sweet and mischievous – with anyone other than her is surprisingly painful.

“No,” Beca says, blushing, the denial automatic. She pushes back against Chloe’s palms, fingers tightening around Chloe’s to soften the refusal. “I don’t, you know… I don’t do that.”

Chloe’s lips part in a grin of absolute delight. “No?” she asks, as if Beca has just shared an amazing feat of something other than inexperience. “Never?”

Beca’s head presses back into the pillow as she groans, but it’s undoubtedly undermined by the way she’s grinning back at Chloe. It’s one of Chloe’s special talents. Beca responds to her smiles like one of Pavlov’s dogs; Chloe smiles and she smiles back. She shifts, pressing up against Chloe, trying to get things back on track. “Can we talk about this later? When we don’t have better things to be doing?”

“I’m going to get to that,” Chloe says, rocking her hips against Beca’s in a move that’s little more than a tease. Her body is lithe and the way she moves it sinful; Beca can’t tear her eyes away from the ripple of Chloe’s abs and the gentle sway of her breasts. She imagines Chloe is the only girl in the world who can turn what is effectively a lap dance into something almost sweet. “You’re telling me you’ve never sucked a guy’s dick?”

Her blush burns through to the tips of her ears. “No. Dude, can we talk about something else now?”

“A girl’s?”

“No!” Her voice goes distressingly high-pitched in a way that’s almost as embarrassing as the conversation. If it didn’t mean giving up the view, she’d be hiding under the pillow.

“But you’ve been with guys before, right?”

Beca gives a shrug that Chloe knows to interpret as an embarrassed yes.

“Then what did you do with them?”

“Just normal stuff.” She’s not getting out of this, obviously – like there was any chance of that once Chloe decided this was information she wanted to know. Chloe’s watching her expectantly, just like she had been that day in the shower, and Beca finds herself giving in again. “You know. I would… with my hand, and we would…” She glances down, hoping Chloe gets the point.

“What about girls?”

“I’d never really been with a girl like this before you,” she admits, defiant stare challenging Chloe to say anything about it.

The kiss she receives in response leaves her breathless. “That’s hot too,” Chloe says, pinning Beca’s hands above her head and licking a trail along the curve of her neck and up to her ear, clearly not displeased with the admission. “But seriously, it would be amazing.”

Chloe shifts so that she’s got a thigh between Beca’s legs, short-circuiting her focus. By the time the question at the tip of her tongue finally makes an appearance, Chloe’s already sliding down her body to settle between her legs. “Why do you want this so much?”

Reserve has never really been a problem for Chloe in any situation, and she’s certainly never been particularly shy in communicating her wants in bed. In fact, the opposite is true; Beca sometimes finds herself remembering something Chloe’s said to her – lips by Beca’s ear and fingers inside of her – when she’s in class or making a mix or dozens of other times when it’s a really inconvenient thought to be having and just the memory makes her blush.

She’s back up Beca’s body in a flash, fingers tracing the curve of Beca’s lower lip. “Seriously?” she asks, as if the answer should be obvious. “God, just imagine it. I want to watch you take me in as deep as you can. I want to wrap my fingers in your hair and pull your head back so that you’re looking me in the eyes while you suck me. I want to watch you forget you’re not supposed to be enjoying it and lose control. It would be,” she pauses long enough to nip at Beca’s throat, “amazing. All I have to do is think about what you’d look like down on your knees and I get wet.”

She’d been better off not knowing, Beca decides, because honestly, that was totally unexpected. She tries to picture herself like that, put herself in Chloe’s head and imagine, and she just can’t. It’s kind of mortifying and so out of the realm of her experience that she runs into a brick wall sometime around thinking about getting down on her knees. She’s done that for Chloe before, of course, but definitely not with appendages in mind. It’s still a little mortifying to think about the things she’s actually done, minus the ones Chloe has apparently imagined in vivid detail, but then she thinks about the desperate noises Chloe makes and the way she pulls and tugs at Beca’s hair, leaving it a complete mess after. She thinks about the taste of Chloe against her tongue and about feeling the muscles in her thighs tense and, okay, not mortifying. Not at all.

“And after I’d decided that you’d done a good job,” Chloe says, apparently having decided to continue, “I’d put you on your hands and knees and…”

“Oh my god. I get it, okay.”

Chloe’s got a look on her face that leaves Beca a little afraid but mostly excited; it’s usually a prelude to Chloe doing something to her that has her screaming in a way that’s totally embarrassing later but absolutely worth it in the moment.

“You should think about,” Chloe says, one last pitch, and then she’s back where she was before this little detour. She presses Beca’s legs open wide, smiles at her brilliantly, and uses her tongue to such phenomenal effect that Beca almost forgets they ever had the discussion in the first place. Almost.


Turns out, she can’t forget it. She wonders what kind of magic Chloe used to burrow her way into Beca’s mind and take up residence because her words seem to be playing on a loop Beca can’t shut off. In the middle of practice, while Aubrey is going on about the Bella legacy, she hears a phantom Chloe telling her how wet the thought of Beca down on her knees makes her. It’s not the real Chloe. The real Chloe is focused on Aubrey as if she’s preaching the gospel of a capella, wearing her standard look of rapt devotee and trusty right-hand woman. The real Chloe has a smile on her face that wouldn’t be out of place on a volunteer outing to read books to kids with cancer, but all Beca can think about is Chloe putting a hand on the back of her head and guiding her down, promising her that she’s doing a good job. She misses Aubrey’s command to get back to work, so out of it that Aubrey’s called her name three times before she snaps back into the present; she’s sure it’s written all over her face, like she should just go ahead and fess up, say, “Sorry about that, everybody. I was just thinking about sucking Chloe’s dick. Promise it won’t happen again. Are we taking it from the top?”

She doesn’t, of course. She can’t even say it in private to the girl who brought it up in the first place – the girl who’s looking at her with a sly smile, as if she knows what’s going on inside Beca’s head, and great, now she’s blushing.

The slap on her ass is startling, to say the least; she spins with a yelp, ready to deliver a smack-down, only to find Cynthia Rose giving her the kind of lascivious smirk she usually reserves for Stacie. “You get it, girl,” she says, giving her a thumbs up, and oh god, she’s turned into the kind of girl who’s such a horndog that she’s obvious enough to get called on it.

Aubrey’s glare is hot enough to burn. “Enough,” she says and then, in a voice nowhere quiet enough to make the aside audible only to Chloe, “Keep your little… whatever… on a tighter leash, Chloe. She can contemplate your lady bits on her own time. We have work to do.”

Fat Amy’s got her fingers in a vee at her mouth, tongue flicking through a broad smile, and Stacie’s groping a boob and licking her lips too enthusiastically for comfort. She doesn’t even want to contemplate what Lilly might have just said in comment.

Basically, it’s probably the worst hour of her life, and they haven’t even gotten to cardio yet.


It’s pretty hard to pretend like everyone totally doesn’t know they’re together after that, so Beca stops trying. She lets Chloe steal her fries and tug playfully on the cord of her earphones and doesn’t have to force herself to pretend like she’s annoyed by it. It probably never worked in the first place. She’s pathetically whipped, there’s no use denying it. Any sort of loner street cred she had at the beginning of the year has pretty much vanished. It’s hard to hold onto it when she spends most of her time with a lapful of a bubbly redhead with no personal space boundaries whatsoever.

If she’s given in to that, she thinks, maybe she’s just fooling herself to think she can deny Chloe anything.

Only, how does she say it? “Hey, if you still want to do that thing with the thing and me, you know, doing that thing with the thing, then I guess we could try it. I mean, I’ll probably be horrible at it, but whatever.”

No. It lacks a certain something.

Chloe hasn’t mentioned it again, which Beca could take as a sign she’s forgotten it. She hasn’t, and Beca knows she hasn’t, but she could pretend. It’s almost better that way, because then she doesn’t have to know Chloe knows that all she has to do is wait because Beca’s going to come around eventually. She doesn’t like being that predictable. She is that predictable (She’s pretty sure Chloe’s already ordered it;  she picked up a plain brown box from campus mail the other day. It’s sitting on her desk but she won’t let Beca open it or even shake it.), but she doesn’t like thinking she is.

Pretty much everything else Chloe’s nudged her into doing has been so worth it, but this is different. This could be super embarrassing. She’s not in high school anymore, so there’s no excuse for poor performance, and what if she’s just as awkward at this as she is just about everything else? Chloe’s got high expectations – it’s not as if Beca could forget just how much Chloe’s apparently built this up in her mind – and what if she doesn’t meet them? What if she’s boring or uninspired, or if she tries her best only to look up and see Chloe shrugging her shoulders at a failed experiment?

She tries to tell Chloe all of this when she drops by her room later that night, but all that comes out instead is, “Is that it?”

“Is what what?”

Beca’s pretty sure she’s staring at the box like it’s her nemesis, but she can’t help it. “Is that the dick you want me to suck?”

She’s not sure if Chloe’s startled laughter makes things worse or better. “That’s a Bax Bears collectible for my little cousin. Her birthday is next week.”

Beca had been ready to do something dramatic. She’s not sure what, yet, but thought it was maybe going to involve ripping the box open and holding the contents above her head triumphantly, like she was a Tribute in the Hunger Games who managed to snag an Uzi. Now with the opportunity gone, indecision settles over her like a fog.

“The dick is in the closet.”

“You already have it?” Beca’s voice is going shrill again, which is so not cool, but seriously… her girlfriend keeps a dick in the closet. “Is this something you ask girls to do all the time?”

“Not really, no.” Chloe doesn’t look at all defensive. Beca wishes she would, just a little, so she wouldn’t be the only one of them who seems to be reacting irrationally. “I just wanted to be prepared in case you changed you mind.”

“Well, then maybe that was good foresight, because I did!”

Beca’s not sure why she screamed that last part like it was an accusation, but never mind. At least it’s out in the open now.

Chloe surges up, smiling widely and actually clapping, as if Beca’s just given her the best surprise she could possibly ever fathom. “Really?”

“Really,” she confirms, smiling shyly, “but I’m probably going to be horrible at it.”

“You’re amazing.” Chloe launches herself into Beca’s arms with enough force to send her stumbling back into the door. She doesn’t really mind. Chloe’s so excited she’s the kind of handsy she gets when drunk, never able to stay anywhere for long. She cups Beca’s ass, runs her hands up Beca’s back, and manages to get her bra unclasped with a move that’s professional in its efficiency. Beca’s half-naked before she even knows it’s happening, and Chloe’s at her neck, sucking in a way that’s certain to leave marks. It’s not long before her head’s spinning and her undies are getting decidedly damp; she’s about to suggest they move things somewhere horizontal when Chloe manages to shove her pants down past her hips, and oh. Okay. They can fuck against the door. Beca’s fine with that. Chloe’s fingers are curled inside her, thumb rubbing against her clit, with enthusiasm giving her the kind of energy that makes the thrusts fast and hard, and Beca finds herself clawing at Chloe’s shoulders just to stay upright because fuck, it’s good.

She can’t even make an attempt at staying cool. Her head flies back, thumping hard against the door. She’s twisting and writhing, there so quickly she feels like crawling out of her skin. It’s pretty much a given she’s being loud enough to be heard by all the neighbors, and it’s all Chloe’s fault and they’ll have to talk about it later and maybe figure out a plan to soundproof her room. She has a tendency to scream Chloe’s name, so it isn’t even as if she could play it off. They probably all think Chloe is some kind of sex goddess which, okay, so maybe she is, but would it hurt for that to be a little more private? Beca’s a fan of private, even if she’s not really doing a good job of being it herself.

Chloe’s name is still echoing around the room from her penultimate scream of approval when Beca sinks down to the floor, panting hard and ears buzzing. She pushes weakly at her pants – they’re half-on and half-off and it can’t be flattering – but she’s not sure she’s ever going to have enough energy to move again.

“Stay right there,” Chloe tells her, and frankly, it’s unnecessary.

She’s shedding clothes with the kind of unselfconsciousness Beca really envies sometimes, making a beeline for the closet.

So they’re going to be doing this right now, apparently.

“It’s nice and clean, and it hasn’t been used before, I promise,” Chloe’s saying over the rattling of closet detritus. “Well, not with anyone else.”

And then she’s turning around and there it is. It’s not exactly what Beca had been expecting, but then again, it’s not as if she had really clear expectations in the first place. It’s purple and kind of oddly shaped – Beca keeps expecting Chloe to tell her that this evening’s sex marathon is being sponsored by the letter L – but things come together with amazing clarity a moment later. Chloe settles onto her little twin bed, legs spread, and, as Beca watches, slips part of it inside of her with a shiver.

It takes Beca a second to work out the logistics, but when she gets it, she grins. “So you’re going to be able to, you know, feel it when I…”

Chloe’s smile is a mix of devious and self-satisfied as she nods.

It’s not that she’s trying to be seductive. All of her previous attempts have been wildly unsuccessful and honestly, with Chloe there as an ever constant benchmark, she’s kind of screwed as far as that goes. Still, it’s not as if the room is all that big, so it makes sense to cover the distance between them in a crawl. If Chloe digs her fingers into the edge of the mattress until her knuckles are white, it’s only a plus.

“You can’t laugh at me,” she warns, but she’s starting to get the feeling she shouldn’t worry. Chloe’s almost hyperventilating, eyes focused on her with hypnotic intensity; it’s oddly comforting.

Up close, the dick is kind of intimidating. Beca’s not really ready to move straight to the advanced level, so she spends a few moments pondering her plan of attack. She decides to start small. Resting her hands on Chloe’s thighs, she leans forward and licks it from bottom to top experimentally, which seems like a decent first effort. When Chloe squeaks and trembles, she does it again.

She looks up, throwing her hair back over her shoulder and out of her way, hoping she appears more confident than she feels. “You like that?”

Chloe has that look again, kind of scary but mostly exciting. “I love the way your tongue looks on my dick,” she says, smoothing Beca’s hair back off of her forehead. “Use your mouth. Please.”

Beca almost salutes, but Chloe’s applying gentle pressure, pulling her closer. She obliges, opening her mouth, and just like that, Chloe’s dick is in it. What comes after is surprisingly more instinctive than she would have thought. Sure, she’s never given a blowjob before, but she’s not been living under a rock. It’s all about suction and movement, and maybe she’s a little hesitant at first, but Chloe’s hand is on the crown of her head, guiding her.

“That feels so good, Beca,” Chloe says breathlessly, fingers tugging at her hair. “You should see yourself. You’re gorgeous. I can’t believe you’re doing this. I didn’t think you’d… Oh. Oh, yeah. Can you take a little more?” Beca tries to accommodate her, and it’s apparently enough because she moans. “Oh my god, just like that. Just like that. Just like that.”

Chloe’s dick is slick now, and the sounds Beca doesn’t mean to make are wet and greedy: a slurp, a hum, a pop, a cry of surprise as Chloe’s starts to thrust up into her mouth with gentle rolls of her hips. She’s got one hand on the mattress supporting her weight and the other on the top of Beca’s head, and Beca takes a chance. She moves her head in a tight circle, curious if what she thinks is going to happen will happen and counting on physics and the principle of action and reaction. The reaction she gets is Chloe’s calf hooking around her side, pulling her in close and Chloe’s hand tightening in her hair, short nails digging into her scalp. She gets her name whispered in a breathless litany, and okay, maybe she’s getting the hang of this. She’s pulling back as her mouth slides up the dick and leaning in as she slides down on it, throwing in another little circle when she takes as much as she can. She’s pulling away entirely, separating herself from Chloe with a wet pop, licking her lips, and taking her in again.

“I knew you’d be good at this,” Chloe says, looking down at her with those soft Chloe eyes that do funny things to her stomach, and Beca decides to take it as a compliment. “Get up here.”

Beca’s surprised to find she’s hesitant to leave.

“Up,” Chloe says again, pulling hard enough on her hair for Beca to decide she might just use it to get her way if Beca doesn’t comply post-haste.

She finds herself straddling Chloe, poised in just the right position to sink down on Chloe’s dick.

“I want to…” Chloe says, losing the thought midway through as her eyes lock on Beca’s swollen lips. She licks her own before leaning forward and licking Beca’s, and okay, Beca thinks. Clearly she has a hidden talent for bjs, and she’ll explore how that makes her feel later because right now, she wants too.

A shift of her hips and Chloe’s sliding inside of her.

“I’m so close,” Chloe whispers against her ear, hands settling against Beca’s ass. “You looked so good down on your knees with my dick in your mouth, but I wanted to finish this together.”

Beca’s still on her knees, but it isn’t the time for nit-picking. They find a rhythm, Chloe rocking her hips up as Beca thrusts down, taking her fully and yeah, Chloe’s neighbors are going to hate them.


Bellas practice is an ordeal. She’s got hickeys on her neck she can’t even begin to try to cover and an inability to look at Chloe without going into a full body blush. They’d woken up to a note on the door from Chloe’s RA advising her to see what she could do about keeping it down and Beca was pretty sure people all the way down the hallway were smirking at her. Cynthia Rose looks vaguely impressed with her. Stacie does too, and she wonders if that means it’s time to start worrying.

“Just perfect,” Aubrey grumbles, for once shooting Chloe a narrow-eyed glare. “I’m not even going to ask how that happened.”

“I wouldn’t mind hearing about it,” Stacie says; in the background, Cynthia Rose nods her head in agreement.

“A koala bear tried to strangle me once,” Fat Amy says, voice oddly hushed. “Vicious little furball. I didn’t look half as bad after.”

She risks a glance at Chloe who just looks insufferably proud of herself.

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” she mumbles, slumping down in her seat. But okay, she admits, grinning back at the beaming Chloe, maybe she’s a little proud too.