Work Text:
The thumps on the floor increase speed, they get more erratic and nervous at every minute that goes, her ears fill with the anxiety of that pace, only to avoid the one growing in her chest, otherwise–
“I will bring down all those aca-gods we know if you don’t stop pacing. And with aca-gods we know I mean Aubrey,” Fat Amy snaps.
“She should’ve been home an hour ago Ams. An hour . I’m worried, why you’re not worried?” Beca half rambles, half questions with high-pitched voice.
“‘Cause Chloe is an adult , Beca!”
“An adult!” Beca laughs.
“Listen, she’s at the club, she’s with her vet colleagues. Maybe there’s no Wi-Fi! Or maybe she’s either having fun and ignoring her phone or bored as hell so decided to take a drink or six and still ignoring her phone while jazzing someone and– Beca oh my God, stop!” Amy stands up, holding Beca still in place as the girl had started pacing even more frenetically than before at Amy’s last sentence.
She doesn’t want Chloe to ‘jazz’ anyone. She’s spent the last year and a half being jazzed by Chloe Beale and the picture of someone else feeling that way about the redhead makes her feel sick. Even less at the club. Even less when she’s miles away from Beca, Wi-Fi-less (because of the three options, that’s the one she likes to support), potentially drunk and out of blue about Beca feelings.
(That last part she still has to work on it.)
“Ams, she’s not answering any call!” Beca whines again, and at that, Amy lets herself fall dramatically on her queen bed and sighs exhausted. Which usually that expression would make Beca laughs very much, if Chloe wasn’t goddamit missing.
And yes , she’s exaggerating and overreacting but she’ll admit it in another life only.
“You’re overreacting.” Amy states. Duh.
Beca pauses her restless pace for a minute to check her phone out and she literally shrieks when right in that moment the small double ticks on Chloe’s chat turn blue.
“She saw the texts!! She’s writing Ams, she’s writing!”
“Bless you, Chloe.” Amy sighs, and turns back to her own phone.
Beca’s heart is beating so fast, watching Chloe typing and waiting for her response so eagerly that she kind of feels embarrassed for herself. When on earth did she turn into this mess of anxiety and affection? She didn’t sign up for this.
[1:02 am] Beca: where are you?? you okay?
[2:05 am] Chloe: HEJ BEDS IM FINS I
[2:05 am] Chloe: on tHw FLOOE ITS ok
[2:06 am] Chloe: *pic*
[2:06 am] Beca: it’s black you dumbass, I see nothing.
[2:06 am] Beca: why are you on the floor?? Is everything fine?
[2:08 am] Chloe: tryn get ups idk
[2:08 am] Chloe: feel tipse im finew ily
It’s just an abbreviation and Beca feels her cheeks getting red already at Chloe’s last word. She tries not to think about it too much. Beca truly doesn’t recall a time where she had been this worry to ignore her young adult’s hormones.
[2:08 am] Beca: Chlo i’m serious, are you okay?
[2:09 am] Chloe: maybee i suck
[2:09 am] Chloe: i
[2:10 am] Chloe: sick
So yes, even the typing queen can break and, worries aside, Beca does admit it’s hilarious. Holding back a chuckle she writes back the reply.
[2:11 am] Beca: what’s the bar’s name?
[2:11 am] Chloe: ??
Beca rolls her eyes.
[2:12 am] Beca: i’m picking you up Beale. The name.
[2:14 am] Chloe: smthing wit B?
[2:14 am] Beca: YOU DONT KNOW THE NAME?!?
[2:14 am] Chloe: iM DRUMK
She has a point.
Beca keeps texting Chloe, if not to get more information at least she’ll help to keep her eyes open and let her focus on something. Taking her laptop, she quickly researches all the bars that start with B in the vicinity of their area but the list is way too long to get some help at all.
[2:16 am] Beca: ‘Kay, Chlo, you gotta concentrate okay? More information, cmon
[2:16 am] Chloe: irs kinda extic
[2:16 am] Beca: what does that even mean??
[2:16 am] Beca: are you in town at least
[2:16 am] Chloe: idk
[2:16 am] Beca: where are your colleagues?
[2:17 am] Chloe: idk
She growls and Amy jumps at the reaction. Beca can’t see her own expression but by judging Amy’s, she’s glad she can’t. Her friend is watching her with a weird mix of fear and surprise on her face that Beca rarely saw on the blonde girl. A moment later Amy excuses her, mumbling something with “tea” and “Xanax”, but Beca is too focused on Chloe’s replies to get the entire sentence.
[2:17 am] Beca: what do you mean with exotic place?? there are palms? Is it fancy??
[2:18 am] Chloe: neon palms
[2:18 am] Chloe: litl umbrellas on sofas akd sea it loajjs
[2:18 am] Chloe: looks lke our vAacation
[2:19 am] Beca: last summer? you mean Hawaii??
Just a year ago, when Chloe got admitted at the vet school and found a job at a clinic for a part time stage, when Beca started working with Dj Khaled and they both earned enough money to spend a brief week on vacation, they found an offer to Hawaii on a last minute flight, so without thinking it twice, the pair booked it and had their friendly honeymoon alone, since Amy got back to her parents in Australia.
She remembers it clearly, of course. A whole week with Chloe Beale in bikini isn’t something you erase that easily.
But she doesn’t let herself drowning in the beauty of the memories. If she wants to see Chloe Beale in bikini again she better work this out as soon as possible. Turned her ‘hacker mood’ on, Beca gathers all the information Chloe gave her and googles it by typing keywords that would totally make her laugh without context or in another situation.
[2:21 am] Chloe: i want to g back to haways
The text makes Beca’s mouth form a soft smile, a grin spreads across her face at the sweet memories of the two of them, alone in their corner of paradise, having the best time ever and spending the days listing all the possible islands in the world to visit together…
“Oh my god!” A bell rings in her mind and Beca suddenly knows where her best friend is.
[2:23 am] Beca: Chlo
[2:23 am] Beca: is the bar’s name Bora Bora? The one in the same street of the super expensive coffee shop we hate?
[2:24 am] Chloe: that’s one!
Beca’s smile gets even wider if possible. She lets out a sigh of relief and hurries up to the front door.
[2:24 am] Beca: coming
[2:25 am] Chloe: I wish
[2:26 am] Chloe: ill wait fo you ere
And that ’s specifically the kind of heat Beca doesn’t need now. She internally swears at the redhead… good, now she won’t stop thinking about banging her the entire ride to the bar.
The street at 2:30 am is Beca’s new favorite thing. The big avenues of the city are so desert that she’d been able to do all those kind of things she desired since she took her license, which include exceeding the speed limit, take a roundabout on the opposite direction, ignore the stops and double-park. Aka everything she’s just done.
Oh, that’s why Jesse loved that movie franchise “Fast and Furious” so bad…
The bar is the most glowing thing she’s ever seen. When Chloe told about the neon palms, Beca had pictured something like a mini set of neon islands on the bar’s sign, but as she enters, she finds in front of her instead an actual giant replica of an island; everything’s covered in neon lights and posters of the sea and the beach are hung everywhere. It’s a bit excessive maybe, but once the eye gets used to the mess of electric colors and the contrasts, it kind of looks good and original, after all.
With her phone on her hand, she speed dials Chloe’s number at once, the techno music ringing in her hear and making it hard to distinguish the beep of the wait.
Finally Chloe picks up and all of sudden Beca’s heart feels a little lighter than before.
“Hello,” Chloe says casually, as if Beca hasn’t just come over for her, in the middle of the night, dressed up like a pusher and makeup-less.
“Where are you?” Beca urges, scanning the place with her eyes to find her best friend.
“Bar,” Chloe replies with a giggle. Beca doesn’t know whether to be angrier for Chloe’s lack of sense of responsibility or for the male voice that fades in the background but that comes clear like a trump in her ears, and makes an alarm ring in her chest at once.
“Wait for me there,” she mumbles, and hangs up with a strange sense of sadness growing in her stomach.
Making herself room across the crowd, she passes by the dance floor and heads to the bar.
She spots Chloe easily, her red cascade falling on her bare back so perfectly, her sparkling dark green dress shines in the spotlights of the disco, and her perfect legs crossed at the side of the table would catch the attention of whatever human being provided with a pair of eyes.
She’s sitting on a tall stool of the bar, sipping from a bottle of transparent liquid Beca wishes with all her energies that is water. Beside her a brunette young man is talking to her with a grin on his mouth and a dangerous sparkle in his eyes.
Beca would recognize that kind of face even a mile further, and despite the many times she saw a situation like this with Chloe (because it happens that people unfortunately are provided with a pair of eyes. How to blame them,) she still can’t get used of it. She glances at them, and all she feels is a sense of protection and urgency that she never felt for anyone but Chloe. She cares so much that is making it impossible to Beca to stay away from her.
Beca analyzes the situation for a moment more. The guy, handsome but a bit too artificially tanned to her liking, is leaning closer and closer towards Chloe, invading her personal space with a confidence that gets Beca on her nerves. As the guy gradually closes the distance, Beca watches Chloe leaning backwards, away from him. She raises a hand as to dismiss him, a polite smile stuck on her face despite Beca, even from her position, can see how the redhead’s eyes widen in panic, darting around the room in alarm.
And that’s all Beca really needs to see to sprint forward, and rushes by Chloe’s side.
“Chlo!”
Chloe seems taken aback, both her and the man turn fast to her and Beca feels triumphant already, as she notices the pout on his shaved face.
“Excuse me, we’re having a conversation,” the guy says stiffly, as if he took for granted that Chloe’s desire was mutual. Poor delusional.
Beca shoots him a glare and arches her brows, “Yeah, I think you’re the only one who wants to have this conversation.”
He huffs, “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Chloe’s–“
“Girlfriend,” Chloe finishes.
Beca has suddenly a hard time swallowing and for good measure, she starts coughing hard, feeling a rush of heat rising on her face.
“Babe you okay?” Chloe puts a gentle hand on her back, but as soon as Beca’s eyes find hers, Chloe throws her a desperate glance to beg her to go along with it.
Pretending to be Chloe Beale’s girlfriend? She can do that.
“Sorry.” Beca clears her throat, places an arm around Chloe’s waist and faces the guy with a sudden newborn confidence. “You can leave now.”
The guy lets out a scornful laughter, takes a step back to get a better view of the two of them and goes, “Yeah, like I’m gonna believe that.”
Beca feels Chloe’s body get rigid against her arm, and instinctively she starts rubbing her lower back to comfort her. Chloe relaxes.
“We don’t care if you don’t believe us, if you’re so desperate to flirt with a lesbian even after she told you she has a girlfriend you should try the gay club at the corner,” Beca snaps.
“She never told me anything the entire time I was here,” he nods at Chloe with his head.
“Ten minutes total!” Chloe shouts in her defense.
Beca rolls her eyes and looks back at the guy. “I’m taking her home. Come on, Chlo.” And Chloe follows her orders instantly, taking one last sip of water and getting off the chair. Beca tries to keep her composure when she feels Chloe’s hand slide down her arm to reach her own, their hands tangle and everything is back into place.
“You know what.” The brunette boy stops them, “prove me you’re together and I’ll leave you alone.”
Now it’s Beca’s turn to laugh, “Are you kidding me?”
“If you hadn’t interrupted us I would’ve gotten a dance already, at least, so yeah, prove me you’re together.”
“You’re such an asshole! Girls are not trophies, a ‘no’ should do to dismiss you for good, you know?” Beca shouts with indignation. She might be small but she’s fierce.
“Never heard a no, though,” he shrugs and doesn’t even dare to look at them as he states so.
“You never heard a yes, either!”
“‘Cause you broke in.”
“You should really learn to get signs.”
“I’m getting the sign that you are worried for her when she was having fun and you totally got extra.”
“Oh,” Beca’s voice got high and squeaky, “ extra? ”
“Yes.”
“I have all the rights to be ‘extra’ with her, you jerk!”
“Well then prove it!”
“We don’t need to prove you an–“
And the end of the sentence dies somewhere remote in her brain as Chloe’s lip press against her mouth with no warning.
A new song start hovering in the club but all that Beca can hear is the erratic beating in her chest, blocking her breath in her throat and making her blood pulse in her veins, as if every inch of her body is reacting at that kiss.
Chloe’s lips move after an uncertain minute, her hand comes to cup Beca’s cheek and slowly tilts her head to have a better access. It’s soft, and sweet, and Beca can taste a mint flavor when for a blissful second Chloe’s tongue brushes her lips; Beca thinks that she wouldn’t mind if a thunder hit her right now, her life goals are achieved and she would gladly leave this world with the feeling of Chloe’s mouth on hers, her rose perfume inebriating all her senses and her own trembling hand pressed against Chloe’s hip.
She gets lost in that kiss, her mind is blank, filled only with the feeling of Chloe’s soft lips, her warm breathing hitting her cheek as she tilts her head even more to deepen the kiss, and Beca thinks that not even the worst of the idiots could consider this acting .
And as fast as it happened, Chloe slowly pulls away, eyes impossibly blue and glowing as she looks back at Beca, and she’s… beaming? But everything is still a little blurry and it happens so fast that Beca thinks she might’ve just imagined it. She’s incapable of taking her eyes off Chloe, mesmerized and in awe as never before.
It’s just a second, a glimpse of joy, before Chloe turns back to the young man, now gaping at them and looking even more stupid if possible, and throws him an I-told-you look that makes pride grow inside of Beca’s chest.
“Is it enough of a proof?”
“Uh…”
Very eloquent.
So with that brilliant ensemble of words as reply, the girls leave the boy with his mouth wide open in surprise, and for once Beca doesn’t feel like telling him to shut it up. She thinks she heard something come out of his mouth, a mumble like “hot” or “bye”, but she’s so focused on Chloe’s hips waving in front of her, and her scent is so good, and she’s not even walking straight but the hold she has in her hand is strong and determined, like she’s scared Beca could slip away at any time while heading to the exit.
Hand in hand they finally make it outside, and Chloe shivers immediately at the cold summer breeze, a sharp contrast with the hotness inside the bar. She hugs her bare arms and starts rubbing her skin to warm it up. Beca takes a minute to contemplate the constellation of freckles on her arms, the perfect line of the biceps jolting slightly at the cool air… her mind travels back to nothing more than five minutes before when her hand had caressed that skin and made her shiver for reasons that just cannot be associated with the weather.
There’s a moment of epiphany in Beca’s mind, it reaches her heart in second, it turns into a bright sparkle of hope and suddenly the night seems clear as the day.
“Chlo… why did you do that?”
Chloe, who until now has spent the time staring at nothing in particular in front of her, turns her head to face her and blinks several times.
“I– I needed to prove that guy Andrew that we–“
Of course he had to have the most obnoxious name on earth. New information, irrelevant.
“You didn’t need to prove anything, he would’ve gone away anyway.”
“But he said–“
“And there could be other ways.” She ignores her. “Or other ways of… kissing.”
Chloe presses her lips (God those lips), and looks away.
“Chloe.”
Nothing.
“Why?”
“I really don’t wanna have this conversation right now, Becs.” Her tone is flat and flebile at the same time, almost hurt, but Beca needs to know. She’s so tired of waiting.
So when Chloe starts walking (in the opposite direction of their place, but ok), Beca pulls her gently by the arm, forcing her to look at her. She didn’t mean to be that strong with her hold but, at the action, and maybe due to her own instability, Chloe stumbles a bit forward; Beca jumps in her direction to prevent her from falling and somehow, they look at each other and find their faces only a few inches apart.
She hears Chloe inhaling sharply, Beca’s regular breathing too stops in her lungs. How many times she’ll have to stare at this gorgeous girl in the eyes in order to feel nothing? Or less, at least. Sometimes Beca feels overwhelmed by her own feelings. Sometimes is even painful to look at Chloe. She might’ve always liked her but she doesn’t feel like the development was gradual at all. It built up, and built up and one day it just hit her that she was irrevocably falling for her best friend.
So yes, if there’s a chance this could be mutual, she will take it.
“Beca…” Chloe starts tentatively, and at the sound of her voice, so soft and weak, Beca has to repress the instinct to hug her. “I don’t want to mess this up,” she whispers.
“You won’t mess anything up,” Beca whispers back just as softly, and with a bravery she didn’t know to have, she tucks a ginger curl behind Chloe’s ear.
There’s a minute of pause that feels like hours. They just stand there, one in front of the other, staring and breathing and asking something that’s still not put into words, but that they both seem to get.
Then Chloe lets out a small laugh, eyes watery and beaming and that’s all the permission Beca needs to lean closer and kiss her for the second time that night. Chloe’s lips are still turned upwards against her own with the ghost of her recent smile, and Beca thinks that’s her new favorite thing in the world.
(But the desert streets at 2:30 am are still a close second.)
And they kiss and kiss, slowly, then more passionately and roughly, pulling away only to laugh or catch their breaths.
“Do you…?” Chloe whispers, her nose still touching Beca’s, as she starts closing the distance again to catch her lips.
“Yes.” Beca kisses her in the mouth, then pecks her nose, her cheek, her eyes… “Yes, of course I do.”
So no, they don’t really talk that night. But after that, Beca doesn’t need to ask her ‘why’ ever again.