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by my hair (everywhere)

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Ok, so maybe Beca’s been waiting for this a bit longer than she’d strictly care to admit. Maybe even from the first time she’d ever met Chloe, at the Bellas stand with Aubrey at orientation, or maybe instead since auditions, when Chloe had assured her, No, yeah, it’s perfectly fine that you didn’t know you had to sing Kelly Clarkson! Just do whatever you can, and had flashed Beca a supportive and friendly smile that had left Beca’s heart racing, and not entirely from nerves. Maybe it was when the Bellas had won the national championships way back in freshman year, and Chloe had been the first to attack Beca in the group hug, happy tears streaming down her cheeks and mascara running everywhere.

 

Though, really, if she’s being honest with herself, Beca Mitchell has been waiting to kiss Chloe Beale since that day in the campus showers, where, even though Beca was completely naked and Chloe had nothing on but a loose-fitting towel, they’d sung “Titanium” in perfect harmony with each other. 

 

After successfully convincing Beca to try out for the Barden Bellas, Chloe had gone back to whatever guy she was messing around with in the shower spray beforehand, and Beca had groaned internally as she'd felt the first pangs of jealousy attack her thoughts.

 

She’d really hoped that she could at least finish up the semester before falling into her inevitable yet quintessential lesbian college experience. Clearly, the universe had had other plans for her.

 

But despite all of that, and despite the lingering glances and the drunken snuggling and the furtive looks in each other’s directions the past five or so years, it’s taken a party at DJ Khaled’s hotel suite in Spain of all places for something to finally happen.

 

Chloe’s got her pressed against the wall by her chest, craning her head up and around the potted plant in front of them to try and catch a glimpse of Colorado, or Cleveland, or whatever that dumb military guy’s name is - Beca couldn’t care less, because Chloe’s hands are on her boobs, and, well, it isn’t exactly unwelcome. 

 

By the time Beca’s brain catches up to her mouth, all she can muster is a, “Dude. What is - What is this about?”

 

Chloe turns to her, eyes wide. “Hm?”

 

Beca gestures down to Chloe’s hands. “You know…You’re kinda…”

 

“Oh.” Chloe seems to notice where she’s touching Beca for the first time. “Sorry.”

 

She doesn’t take her hands away.

 

Beca swallows. Her throat feels dry. The air between the two of them suddenly seems charged, more than it’s ever been before. Chloe’s pupils are dilated, fully-blown and dark. Beca squeezes her legs together.

 

“You’re not really into that Monaco dude, right?” Beca finds herself asking breathlessly.

 

Chicago,” Chloe corrects, grin pulling at the corners of her pink, pink lips. “And no, not really.”

 

Beca hums, unable to tear her eyes away from Chloe’s mouth. “Maybe you should let him know that.”

 

Chloe leans in, right at Beca’s ear, ever-so-slightly brushing against her skin. “Maybe I should,” she whispers, sending shivers up Beca’s spine.

 

Screw it. She is so done waiting for this.

 

“Would you just fucking kiss me already?” Beca hisses, and before Chloe can respond, Beca takes care of it herself, moving her hands up to Chloe’s face and dragging her into the kiss they’ve both needed for a while. 

 

Chloe’s lipstick tastes like strawberry-banana, and Beca hasn’t encountered many flavored lipsticks in her time, so maybe it isn’t the makeup and maybe it’s just Chloe, but she decides she doesn’t care, either way. Chloe’s knee slides in between Beca’s legs, and her fingers thread themselves through Beca’s hair, so Beca retaliates with a sharp nip against Chloe’s top lip and her hands bracing themselves, hard, on Chloe’s hips, pulling her closer, closer, closer - 

 

Fat Amy’s voice sounds from somewhere close by, and the pair of them move apart, breathing hard.

 

“That was - “ Chloe starts, but breaks off.

 

“Yeah,” Beca finishes for her. “Yeah.

 

Chloe steps back from the wall and Beca, tugging down at the hem of her dress in an effort to make it look presentable. “We should probably - “

 

“Yeah,” Beca repeats, doing her best to return her hair to its glossy state, already missing the feel of Chloe’s burning touch. “But later - ?”

 

“Definitely later,” Chloe confirms, smiling, and she leans forward quickly, pecks Beca sweetly on the mouth one last time. “Sound good?”

 

Beca nods. “Totally. Totally sounds good.”

 

Totally. Yeah.