Chapter Text
Chloe’s pressed up against the wall before the door has even shut behind them. She watches, dazed, as Beca kicks a foot up to close it with a slam before pushing even closer into Chloe, mouth on her neck, guiding a firm trail up from Chloe’s shoulder to her ear with her tongue. And Chloe, barely able to form a coherent thought, reacts from instinct rather than choice. She pushes her hands frantically under Beca’s shirt to press into the skin of her back and run up her sides, all the way from the waistband of her jeans to the rough lace of her bra and back again. It pulls Beca even closer into her, so that she can feel the warmth of Beca’s body from her knees to her own heaving chest.
Chloe’s breath comes in gasps now, as Beca sucks and grazes her teeth over the point just under Chloe’s ear. Her hands, firm on Chloe’s hips and holding her in place, slip suddenly under her top. They resume the same position but now on bare skin, and Chloe feels the touch as though it’s burning her up, fizzling at her skin from the outside inwards.
She’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or Beca’s touch that’s clouding her brain, making her feel almost dizzy with rough desire, with the pent up emotion of wanting to touch Beca, and have Beca touch her, and have that somehow be actually happening, right here and now.
Beca pauses for a second, moving her mouth away from Chloe’s collarbone to look into her eyes, slight concern in her expression. Chloe knows she needs to make that concern go away, she needs Beca not to stop, not to ever stop touching her like this. So she presses forward, pushing her lips to Beca’s, and Beca responds immediately. All Chloe can think is the chant running through her head. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop, as their tongues roughly slip over one another, the kiss desperate- messy and firm and breathless.
Chloe’s hands slide under Beca’s bra strap so that she can continue her path further up her back. On the next trip up, frustrated by the obstruction, she pulls at the strap frantically, unhooking the two sides on her second try. The first time her hands run unrestrained up the length of Beca’s spine, Chloe can feel Beca groan and shiver, feel how it makes her press forward again, though there’s scarcely room to be any closer to one another, pushing a thigh between Chloe’s legs.
She thinks, this is it. This is it. I will never recover from this.
And it’s at that moment that the door slams open again, and Beca pulls her lips from Chloe’s, catching her breath in heaves as she twists to take in the figure in the doorway. Chloe’s hands are still up Beca’s top, somewhere near her shoulder blades, and she can feel from the warmth of her cheeks that she must look flushed and mad with desire.
“Holy shit.”
“Stacie, it’s...it’s not, don’t-” Beca’s words are incoherent, as though she’s struggling to re-engage her brain, body still firmly attached to Chloe’s as though unable to let go.
Stacie snorts, wobbles a little on her very high heels, before passing them and moving to make her way up the stairs.
“Your secret’s safe with me.” And she clatters away.
Beca pulls away slightly, staring into Chloe’s eyes with an unreadable expression, as though some kind of mad fog is lifting, taking them away from this fantasy world of Beca and Chloe kissing, and in danger of suddenly dropping them unceremoniously back in the world of Beca and Chloe, friends.
And no, no. Chloe can’t let that happen. She feels a surge of panic swirl up through her belly, reminding her briefly just how much she’s had to drink, when Beca moves to take another step away. Chloe holds her hands firm against Beca’s back, trying to keep her close.
Don’t stop, don’t stop. “Don’t stop.” She doesn’t mean to sound as pleading as she does. She doesn’t mean to say anything at all. But the words are out there between them now, and Chloe can see the hesitance, the nervousness, play across Beca’s face when she hears them. Chloe’s sure she can still see the desire there too, though. The flush that’s running up her chest, peeking out from under the shirt collar, the pink of her lips and her cheeks. The way she doesn’t seem able to separate her gaze from Chloe’s eyes, barely even to blink.
“Please don’t stop,” Chloe whispers, finally removing her hands from Beca’s back to place them instead across her cheeks. “Don’t stop.”
And Beca’s shaking her head, bringing her own hands up to the nape of Chloe’s neck, her touch soft and hesitant. She shakes her head and Chloe doesn’t know if it means “Okay, I won’t stop” or “I have to stop,” until the moment Beca’s lips meet hers again.
The kiss this time is different, more controlled, more careful, but undoubtedly leading to the same place. Mouths insistently press together, moulding and twisting, and there’s just so much touching and feeling and skin that Chloe barely manages to come to her senses long enough to pull her lips away for a moment.
“Upstairs.” She doesn’t give Beca a chance to hesitate, doesn’t dare. She simply grabs her hand and leads the way up the stairs until they’re safely ensconced inside Chloe’s single room. They stand there, a few feet apart for a moment, taking in each other.
Then the moment breaks, and hands are reaching forward, grasping at anything they can get, pulling and twisting at fabric, clamping onto skin. Chloe’s lips find the pulse on Beca’s neck, clasping round it firmly, swirling her tongue up and down and around, tasting the sweat on Beca’s skin from a night of drunkenly fuelled dancing. Beca moans softly, and the sound sends a zipping, humming to Chloe’s head. She feels almost crazed with it.
They break apart as Beca pulls Chloe’s top insistently over her head, immediately taking the chance to press her mouth again to Chloe’s collarbone, and Chloe throws her head back with a groan at the warm, wet feeling of Beca’s mouth on her skin.
She reaches out blindly for the buttons of Beca’s shirt, fumbles to undo as many as she can whilst her head twists to the side without conscious thought, and Beca moves her mouth up Chloe’s neck, licking and scraping her teeth. Chloe feels the sharp scrapes, Beca’s hot breath, her firm tongue and oh my god, her mind is nothing but those feelings, those touches, amplified and expanded with every time they bounce around in her head. Please don’t stop.
She finally frees the last button on Beca’s shirt, and immediately pushes it away over Beca’s shoulders. The action sends her bra straps falling loosely down her arms too, and Chloe takes her chance to push at these as well, until Beca lets go of her hold around Chloe’s ribcage to shake it completely free without even a pause.
Chloe would stare, but she’s too distracted by what Beca’s doing with her mouth, now moving along her jaw, marking an insistent path back to her lips. So instead she touches. Just simply places both her hands over Beca’s breasts and feels the way Beca arches into her, groaning at the exact moment her lips are hovering over Chloe’s, so that she feels the hot exhale, the sharp inhale. Beca’s breasts are softer than Chloe imagined, and the warm weight of them in her hands sends sharp jolts of excitement through her body. She kisses Beca as her thumbs run simultaneously over the hardness of Beca’s nipples, and she moves them aimlessly for a moment before pressing more firmly. Beca has to pull away from their kiss to gasp at the touch and Chloe’s body feels hot all over, burning up from these new sounds she’s causing.
I am making her feel that. And she wants more of it, more sounds, more everything. Don’t stop.
She begins to move forwards, with the aim of pressing Beca back into the door behind her but Beca resists, placing her hands on Chloe’s shoulders and instead pushing her in the opposite direction until the back of her legs hit the side of the bed. They break apart when Beca keeps putting pressure on Chloe’s arms until she folds backwards, sitting down on the side of the bed how she’s sat so many times before. But no, it’s never been like this before.
Sure, Chloe’s definitely sat here, looked up at Beca and thought how beautiful she is before, but never quite this intensely. Never in such a way that it sends heat shooting between her legs, and definitely never quite as unabashedly staring before. It was never real before.
Never before has Chloe sat here looking up at Beca, topless and flushed, as she reaches back to undo her own bra without breaking eye contact. Never before has she had half-naked Beca pull her shoes off, and then her own, before climbing onto her lap. Never before have their naked chests pressed into one another, causing moans that are swallowed by Beca capturing Chloe’s lips in another frantic kiss.
And Chloe’s suddenly very glad to be sitting down, because the sensation of this much skin against skin, with the alcohol bubbling around her system, makes her knees feel like jelly. She has a sudden moment of clarity, where a part of her, the non-drunk, non-desperately in love part is saying, no this is too serious for this, it shouldn’t happen whilst we’re drunk, but the rest of her is pleading still. Please don’t stop, I need you not to stop.
So she doesn’t stop, and Beca doesn’t stop either.
Instead, her hips buck up into Beca’s, desperate to find some kind of escape from the heat that’s overwhelming her body, and her fingernails claw lightly into Beca’s back as she grasps onto her tightly, pressing their bodies further into one another.
One of Beca’s hands slips between their bodies, fingers warm and soft as they make a route up Chloe’s ribcage before running gently over the curve of Chloe’s breast. Her fingers mark the path several times before Chloe’s own both grasp at Beca’s backside and Beca’s get suddenly bold in response, pulling and twisting at Chloe’s nipple so suddenly that the gasp that breaks free in response is rough, catching in the back of her throat. She throws her head back, body completely out of her control.
Beca once again latches onto her exposed neck, marking the place it joins her shoulder with a firm mouth and sharp teeth, and moving a second hand between them, onto Chloe’s other breast. The overwhelming fullness of the feelings Chloe’s experiencing makes her forget to breathe for a moment and her hands claw in desperation to Beca’s hair, holding her there so that she can never stop making her feel so good.
Beca’s body keeps rolling into Chloe’s, faster and faster, begging for any kind of friction and Chloe glides her hands back down to Beca’s backside to aid the motion. She tries to slip her hands beneath Beca’s jeans, desperate for more skin to touch, but can’t quite squeeze under the tight material.
Beca leans back and grabs blindly at one of Chloe’s wrists, chest heaving as she tries to catch up on breaths, and guides Chloe’s hand to her belt buckle.
The action makes Chloe’s heart fly up to her throat and she’s pretty sure that for a moment it stops beating altogether. This is happening, this is really happening. She fumbles, then grasps at the leather, pulls it firmly to extract it from the buckle, watching Beca’s face as Beca intently watches Chloe’s hands. She’s sure this is the sexiest moment she’s ever experienced, and she’s suddenly seized with the urge to get Beca’s jeans off of her immediately, to see her whole body, to feel it against her, to press her own body fully up against it and make this frustration end.
Once she’s fully unclasped Beca’s belt and button, she pushes her insistently off of her lap, pulling on the sides of her pants until Beca takes over, eyes wide and dark, stare more intense than Chloe’s ever seen it, and it makes Chloe pull at the button of her own pants, push them frantically down her legs and kick them off wildly when one side gets trapped around an ankle.
Beca’s still standing there, flushed and goosebumped and messy-haired, wearing only her panties, and Chloe suddenly feels the distance between them like a crazed ache. It's too far. So desperately, she reaches up, pulling Beca’s hips until they’re as close as they can get whilst Chloe’s still sat down. Her heartbeat feels like it’s thumping everywhere as hands run up the outsides of Beca’s thighs, watching the way more goosebumps form along the route her fingers follow. She leans forward, presses her open mouth to Beca’s abdomen, and feels the vibration of Beca’s moan as she runs her tongue across the soft, pale skin. Beca’s hands curl into Chloe’s tangled hair, and she marvels that this is the first time she’s ever put her mouth here, and here, and here, as it travels up Beca’s ribs to the gentle curve of her breasts.
Her fingers dance around Beca’s hips, fingernails along the back of thighs, palms into the irresistibly graspable flesh of her backside, before her mouth moves once more, this time to capture a nipple in the wet heat, feeling the firm flesh she’s got clasped in her mouth and grazing it with her teeth. And god , the sounds Beca makes.
Chloe’s sure she can’t possibly be more turned on than she is right now, sitting on her bed in just her underwear with Beca’s nipple in her mouth, listening to the groans and feeling the arch of Beca’s back as she desperately tries to press in closer, the grip of her hair in Beca’s hands, almost uncomfortably tight. She can feel the heat radiating from Beca’s crotch where it’s pressed into her chest, and the need to touch her there is suddenly overwhelming.
Chloe forcibly breaks away from Beca’s skin to move her hands to the elastic of Beca’s underwear, pulling at it gently, finding Beca’s wide eyes with her own.
“Can I?”
It’s the first words either of them have spoken since they were down in the hallway, and it makes the moment feel suddenly far more intense, as if reminding Chloe that this really is her and this really is Beca, her best friend, standing in front of her almost naked, assenting with a sure nod to Chloe making her fully, completely, unabashedly naked.
And so Chloe’s fingers are trembling as she works the thin fabric down Beca’s thighs, and her heart thudding crazily as Beca, naked best friend Beca, then moves to liberate Chloe from her own underwear. So much so that she nearly forgets to lift her hips to aid the process and Beca has to tug so hard Chloe tumbles onto her back. Beca laughs openly, drunkenly, grin wide on her face, and Chloe knows in that moment, Beca’s dark eyes glittering with mirth, that she is irrevocably one hundred percent in love with this ridiculous person before her.
So she reaches up, grin now just as wide, laughing too, and pushes through her excessively turned-on, drunken haze to twist her body around, pull Beca down over her and kiss her in the most thorough fashion she can muster.
And there it is again, the chant. Don’t stop, don’t stop. Because now she really can really feel Beca everywhere, and there’s a leg between her thighs, and there’s hot, wetness from between Beca’s own legs pressed up against her, and suddenly things are serious again, laughter forgotten in an instant. Chloe rolls her hips upwards, onto the firm skin of the leg Beca has pressed into her, and their groans are simultaneous and loud . Chloe remembers for a second that there’s at least one other person somewhere in the house, but then Beca’s hand reaches between them, and slips without warning into slick folds and-
“Oh my God.”
She stares up at Beca, eyes wide with shock at the pleasure, and Beca looks so flushed, so in awe Chloe barely knows what to focus on. So her body decides for her, eyes clamping firmly shut and forehead furrowing as Beca moves her fingers in a deft rhythm, pressing with her thigh all the while, rocking over and over on Chloe’s leg as she moves her fingers in a tight circle around Chloe’s clit.
“Beca,” She breathes, desperately. “Oh my God, Beca.” Her body feels like it’s burning up inside, tingling and buzzing and fizzing, and oh my god, so much pleasure she feels insane with it, and she has no control over the volume of the groans and cries and pleas of Beca’s name that come out of her mouth as Beca touches and touches and touches, getting firmer and faster and oh my god.
And then her rhythm falters for a second, and Chloe opens her eyes, feels with a jolt as Beca’s fingers move lower. Chloe can see the question in Beca’s eyes, so she nods frantically, gasping, and Beca slips a finger, and then another deep into the wet heat, sliding upwards and curling around, before repeating the action more confidently, pressing again with her thigh when she hears the desperation of Chloe’s moan, and feels the way her back arches up.
Chloe grasps at anything she can reach, hands moving manically over Beca’s backside, hips, shoulder blades, grasping and letting go, and clawing and moving on. A hand makes it to Beca’s hair, and pulls her solidly down into a messy kiss, noses bumping, and breathlessly gasping as tongues move over each other roughly. Beca nips at Chloe’s lips, then along her jaw, biting a trail to her earlobe, before sucking down again on a reddish mark she’s left over Chloe’s pulse point.
Chloe’s mind is elsewhere, on some other plane completely, consumed totally by the feeling of Beca over her and inside her, with those fingers and hands she’s watched and stroked and played with so many times. Then Beca somehow twists her hand so that her thumb presses firmly into Chloe’s clit at the exact moment her fingers curl, deep inside her, and Chloe’s thrown over the edge completely unexpectedly. Her hands grasp into Beca’s back far too tightly as her body spasms, bucking underneath Beca madly, drawing her back up, away from the bed and crying out in a way that she knows anyone at home right now will hear.
She can feel her pulse everywhere, and a tingle over a skin that’s almost too much, and when she opens her eyes to take in Beca, still hovering over her, hand not-yet removed her body shudders a few more times at the sight of her flushed face and wild eyes. Chloe’s body finally relaxes, sinking heavily into the mattress beneath her, and she can’t help the grin that spreads up her face, though it’s temporarily wiped when she gasps at Beca removing her hand gingerly. But the smile returns, and Beca mirrors it.
“Oh my God.” Chloe manages to squeeze out between gasping breaths. Beca just grins even harder. “You look so pleased with yourself, stop it.” Chloe throws a hand over her eyes, but the smile never leaves her face, and Beca barks a laugh.
“Should I not be?” She rolls off Chloe onto her side, and Chloe turns her head, lifts the arm covering her eyes to look at Beca’s dark, shining ones.
“Shut up.” She says through an even wider grin. Beca, in response, pulls Chloe’s chin towards her and kisses her firmly but languidly, leaving them both breathless when they break away.
“You, you are-” Beca pauses, as though considering her word choice, and whispers the next part. “-the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
And Chloe gapes, unable to register. even after what just happened, that it was Beca her best friend Beca that just said those words out loud. In lieu of responding, she rolls her body in one swift movement until she’s on top of Beca, capturing her mouth in a kiss at the same time she grasps both hands over Beca’s breasts. She forgets immediately that she’s had any kind of release at all, body hot and tingling and overwhelmed once more with the feeling of Beca’s body, pressed underneath her, their skin slick and sticky.
She twists a nipple firmly between two fingers, revelling at the way it makes Beca’s eyes widen and mouth fall open, gasping. She trails her other hand firmly downwards, over the soft skin of Beca’s stomach, through rough, dark curls. She can feel the heat before she even presses her fingers down, and the hovered pause makes Beca buck her hips up, desperate for Chloe’s touch. So she gives it without further hesitation, because she’s always been unable to deny Beca anything and she’s certainly not about to start now. Not when this is exactly what she wants to give.
The feeling, as she presses her hand to Beca, is overwhelming. The silky, hot wetness that immediately coats her fingers makes her push herself into Beca’s thigh with a groan to match the one that falls out of Beca’s mouth.
“Oh my god, you feel so good.” Chloe gasps, but Beca can’t find the brainpower to respond with words, instead rocking her hips into Chloe’s hand to encourage her into a rhythm, and Chloe happily obliges, watching with awe at the pleasure that passes over Beca’s face as she circles her clit firmly. She moves her body slightly downwards, capturing the nipple she’s not twisting in the fingers of her left hand with her mouth, and Beca arches upwards, crying out.
“Don’t stop.”
Chloe feels her heart thudding at Beca’s words, her shock at hearing them echoed back to her almost enough to make her actually stop. But instead she moves on more frantically, passing her lips down the underside of Beca’s breast and over her stomach, nipping and licking at Beca’s writing body, the rhythm of her hand never faltering. She pushes her body down the bed as she continues to bite and lick her way across Beca’s abdomen, nipping at her hips, dipping her tongue into the groove where thigh meets torso. The sounds Beca’s making are an almost constant stream now, as her body bucks and wriggles under Chloe’s touches and warm mouth. Chloe can feel how hot her skin is, see how flushed she is everywhere, and it sends more jolts to her belly, more heat across her skin, tingles to the tips of her fingers.
She moves the last step of the journey downwards in one sudden swoop, lifting her hand away and replacing it immediately with a swipe of her tongue. Beca arches upwards into Chloe’s face so sharply Chloe has to hold her hips down, listening to the way the moan reverberates in the room, or maybe just in her head, which is buzzing and loopy with desire.
Because now she’s tasting Beca, and running her tongue up between folds, and she’s never done this before but oh my god, she better get to do it again. Beca’s writhing is even more intense now, and her heels curl around to press into Chloe’s back. When Chloe brings two fingers up to slide confidently inside Beca, as she sucks firmly on her clit, Chloe’s rewarded with the loudest cry yet.
“Chloe, fuck.”
Chloe doesn’t want to tease, but she also doesn’t want to stop, so whilst she moves her fingers steadily in and out of Beca, she doesn’t let her tongue hit a rhythm. She alternates between swirling the tip of her tongue around Beca’s clit, to passing the whole of it roughly up between folds, to sucking and licking just anywhere and everywhere until Beca, slick with sweat and desperate with the way she’s teetering on the edge, claws into Chloe’s hair to force her into a steady pattern.
After that it doesn’t take long before Chloe can feel Beca tightening around her fingers, and she comes with a sharp cry of Chloe’s name, and gasping tremors that lift her spasming body away from the mattress before she flops and sinks back into it, limbs heavy and twitching. Chloe watches with awe, licking slowly up and down still, even after she extracts her fingers, unwilling to move away.
Just in case I don't get to do it again, is the thought she doesn’t let herself fully form.
“Chloe, oh my god,” Beca moans. “You’re killing me.” So reluctantly she breaks away, wiping her face roughly across the back of an arm, before pulling her body up again to lay heavily next to Beca’s. She looks at Beca’s flushed, delirious and exhausted expression, her thoroughly tangled hair and the sheen of sweat that’s beading across her chest, and suddenly feels completely drunk again. She starts to laugh, and without question, Beca joins in, grinning sleepily.
“Can we do that again?” Chloe manages to get out, between breathless giggles.
“What, now? Or when we’re sober?” Beca runs her fingers over Chloe’s side and for a second that’s all she can think of.
“Either,” Chloe says eventually, before deciding to be truthful. “Both.”
Beca makes to move onto her side, before realising her body is heavier than she thought. So she uses a firm hand on Chloe’s hip to pull herself flush against her, tangling their legs.
“Yeah.” Beca says, grinning against Chloe’s lips. “Yeah, we can.”
“Both?”
“Both.”