Chapter Text
Beca's a rule-follower.
Well, at least most of the time she is. She'll fight for her cause, but she usually sticks to what the guidelines say. For example, her intro to philosophy professor doesn't count attendance, so she simply doesn't go. She's not breaking any rules, but she's not necessarily sticking to them either. Same goes with Aubrey's stupid Bella rules, except Beca could only take so much of her anal-retentiveness and strayed a little too far from some of them.
There was the whole semi-finals thing, which was an obvious bust. Technically speaking, she didn't break Aubrey's rules. She sort of just sang— nevermind that it was a completely different song at a maybe inappropriate time— which was Aubrey's orders anyways. She stayed well-within limits. Well, in her head, at least.
And then, there's the whole "treble-boning" thing.
She didn't technically bone a certain Treblemaker until after Aubrey's rule was lifted (AKA, until after Aubrey graduated), so she wasn't really breaking them.
So yeah, Beca's pretty good at following the rules. She'll challenge them, sure, but usually she'll just find her way around them.
When the Bellas start complaining about Jesse and Beca's "inappropriate behavior" (as quoted by Chloe), it's, ironically, over dinner with him.
"You two go at it like there's no tomorrow," Fat Amy whistles.
Jesse immediately blushes, and Beca's hot head grows about two sizes. "We do not!"
"Oh yes you do. I'm a little jealous, honestly. Even I can't keep up," Stacie sighs, and Beca stares at her in shock.
It's not exactly a little-known fact that Jesse and Beca liked to get it on in the bedroom. They were away from each other for the majority of the summer, and with them being a new couple, they were still in that honeymoon stage. All natural, as Beca likes to think of it.
Can you blame them? Jesse knew how to do amazing things with those hips, and that mouth? Beca's certainly not complaining.
"Yeah, I bet you two wouldn't last a week without having sex."
"Ha, more like a day."
"Enough!" Beca slams her fist on the table, glaring at every single girl seated. Jesse, meanwhile, is ghostly pale in the seat next to her. "We'll get out of your hair, okay? We can handle ourselves."
"Oh yeah? Prove it," Amy challenges. "I give you a week, tops."
"Two weeks, I've got a math test next week."
"A month. We can control ourselves for a month. Isn't that right, Jesse?"
She gives him a pointed look, to which he mouths "a month?" with wide eyes. He glances at the girls' anticipation, eventually succumbing to the pressure with a weak nod. "Er, yeah. Definitely doable."
"Can't do her," someone snickers from across the table, to which Amy snorts in modest agreement.
"Anyways," Chloe rolls her eyes, mostly at the commotion she's accidentally caused, "how will we know you're not getting it on at the Treble house or at the radio station?"
"Or the janitor's closet."
"Or the rehearsal space."
"Or—"
"Look, we have class and decency. No public domains."
"Bo—ring," Stacie yawns. Beca shoots another glare her way.
"What do we get out of this?"
"That sex isn't the core of a loving relationship—"
"Seriously?"
"Aw, come on. That's a load of shit," Fat Amy agrees, shrugging at Chloe's offended face. "I have a weekend pass to the Luxury Retreat, you can have that if you win. You can have all the massages, booze, and sex you can possibly have there. And they have really nice towels and mini soaps."
"Where the hell did you get a weekend pass to Luxury Retreat? Isn't that shit crazy expensive?"
"I've got connections," the Australian winks ominously.
"Deal. No sex for a month in exchange for that weekend pass."
"Beca, sweetie, do you need a few vibrators for the time being? I know where to get the best ones," Stacie offers sympathetically.
Beca raises a cautionary brow. "Hold up, where in the rules does it state that he can't get me off?"
"And vice-versa," Jesse adds.
"Uh, implicitly, obvi. I don't think you'd want to risk the consequences."
"Are we really that bad?" Jesse quips warily. Beca pinches him for good measure. "All I'm saying is that I think we have a lot more self control than you girls think."
"And we'll prove it. Boom. Done. Now pass me the garlic sauce."