Bechloe week day 1 - Accidental kiss
"Um, Becs, do you really think that's a good idea-"
"I'm fine!" It's intended to sound calm and collected, comes out as a nervous shriek instead. One that causes Chloe to raise her eyebrows even higher, a skeptical smirk grazing her features already. Almost as though she's maliciously waiting for her to fall.
Beca knows that what she is currently doing isn't necessarily safe, is aware of how wobbly she is balancing on a toolbox, on their kitchen counter. Blaming Chloe for being worried doesn't seem fair, but it's also not her fault that Amy somehow happens to be the only one tall enough to reach the top shelf.
She's usually not one to indulge in such carefree and foolish activities, her demeanor serious and guarded more than anything, but Chloe's gaze on her isn't judging. It's amused more than anything, the smile on her lips teasing, practically spurring Beca on to keep going. And if it makes her grin like this, Beca thinks, she gladly will.
Chloe is craving a certain kind of cereal and Beca pretends to want it too, deems it an appropriate excuse to literally climb up on the counter and possibly hurt herself in the process of doing so. It's barely fair, how influential those blue eyes are.
Though it's the smile that causes her to slip, all dimples and breathtaking and suddenly she loses her footing, desperately holds onto the shelf. The dull pain rushes over her as soon as her head hits the counter with a loud thump and the smile responsible for all of this fades immediately. Chloe is frowning now and, eyebrows furrowed, she's next to Beca in less than a second, her concern obvious even in the way she brushes some strands of hair behind the brunette's ear so she can inspect the spot of impact properly. It's all gentle and loving and the sheepishness that should have taken over by now instantly gets replaced with the sudden need to rush forward and capture the other woman's lips with her own. They're so close.
Beca fears that if it wasn't for the stinging headache coursing through her body, she might have done just that. Another foolish act to emphasize just how incredibly skittish Chloe makes her feel.
"It's okay," is what she mumbles instead, unconvincingly so, grimacing in pain, still. "Really."
The statement lacks a certain sense of reassurance and Chloe is all over her for the rest of the evening, worries too much. Both of them sure that it's not a concussion, Chloe still takes care of her all night. It's almost embarrassing, how much comfort Beca finds in it, a roll of her eyes every now and then suggesting that she is annoyed more than anything. And yet an undeniably goofy smile finds its way onto her lips when Chloe brings her another ice pack, gently places it on her head, still cradles Beca as though she's the most valuable thing in the redhead's life.
Though if someone were to ask Beca later, she'd most likely blame it on the fact that Chloe is no doctor, can't possibly tell if she perhaps has a concussion after all. She supposes they make one feel giddy, cause one to admire a certain dimpled smile even more than usual. It's the only explanation for the way her stomach churns whenever soft fingers brush against her warm cheeks. The only explanation for the sudden nausea that seems to be taking over.
"Are you sure you're alright?" The words sound so incredibly caring coming out of her friend's mouth that Beca considers shaking her head just so she'll get to hear some more of them.
She nods instead, like she feels she ought to, doesn't want to be that much of a burden despite the throbbing of her head.
There's a response forming on her lips already, but its impossible to voice out loud when Chloe suddenly presses hers to her temple, gently, and blue eyes flutter close involuntarily. It's over before Beca can properly process the soft touch, one that a certain redhead insists will make it all better.
It's cute and Beca doesn't even try to fight it when her lips curve upwards yet again.
//
The sweet gesture is something that Chloe repeats more than once after that. It becomes somewhat of a habit, even, one that Beca relishes despite all of her efforts not to act the part.
It's soft lips gently brushing against every little and insignificant scrape Beca earns herself in the most mundane ways and when the brunette finds herself to be even more clumsy than previously thought, she can't find it in herself to actually care. She knows that Chloe, without a doubt, will be there to 'kiss it better'.
Telling the redhead that it doesn't help, that it's illogical and childish is merely a miserably failed attempt of trying to keep up all of the walls that Chloe has learned to easily look through. She can read Beca like an open book, if the discrete and victorious smirk she cracks every single time is anything to go by.
And yet it takes a painfully long time for Beca to reciprocate said ritual, on a movie night nonetheless. They're silly, really, because they actually live together now, but Chloe successfully manages to ignore any objections regarding the topic. Chloe loves her traditions and who is Beca to deny her those? Who is Beca to resist Chloe in a pajama, cuddled up on the bed next to her? Who is she to resist those blue eyes and the giddy smile that broadens notably whenever they get ready to watch one of her beloved Disney movies. The ones Beca still pretends to dislike. She has an image to keep up, after all, and no, The Lion King did not make her cry, no matter how often Chloe tells the story with that stupid, fond smile grazing her lips.
They order food on some nights, decide to cook on others. Beca doesn't mind anymore, has accepted that Chloe will always be the one doing the cooking while she herself has seemingly perfected the art of burning food to a crisp. The redhead usually bans her from the kitchen about halfway through, but watching from the living room doesn't seem like all that bad of an option either.
She can see it from there, too, when Chloe's knife slips and cuts right into her finger, the action accompanied by a loud hiss. There's blood everywhere before either of them can do so much as blink. Beca usually isn't overprotective, isn't too fussy about blood either, but Chloe definitely looks like she is in pain and the brunette has to do something. The panic in all of her movement is apparent as she desperately tries to find the first aid kit that she knows they have lying around somewhere.
Listening to Chloe reassuring her that everything is fine, over and over again, that it's just a little scratch, seems to be practically impossible when there's still so much blood. It's only once the redhead has rinsed it thoroughly and there's a bandaid on her finger that Beca feels like she can breathe again. Feels the worry and concern vanish slowly, a little less of it controlling her with every new smile that Chloe regards her with.
"You're cute when you worry about me." Chloe is all mocking and teasing and she knows exactly what it does to Beca, the flush creeping up her neck immediate even when she shakes it off with an awkward motion of her hand.
"Maybe I just didn't want you to bleed into our food," Beca mumbles nonchalantly despite her still heated cheeks. All of her efforts trying to hide said blush fail when Chloe merely snorts in response, doesn't believe one word her friend is saying, adores her grumpy demeanor nonetheless.
The whole badass facade falls apart seconds later anyways, when Beca hesitantly reaches for Chloe's hand, brings the injured finger up to her lips and presses a featherlight kiss to it. Avoiding the redhead's gaze while doing so, feeling incredibly vulnerable.
It's not sweet, not loving, not a sign that Beca finally starts softening up even more so than she already had. It's simply what they do, now, just another part of their friendship.
//
It's something that they keep doing even weeks, months later. It's something that even Beca does until there's absolutely nothing weird about it anymore. Until it's something as normal and incredibly necessary as breathing, as having Chloe around in the first place.
Though it's on a Sunday morning that everything comes to a grinding halt, that the normality of it all fades into something more dangerous.
It's not Beca's intention, by any means, to stare. To stare at Chloe when she once again leaves their tiny bathroom in nothing but a towel, her hair still wet and strong shoulders on display. Beca hasn't previously thought it to be something that actually happens, but somehow her eyes keep snapping up to Chloe from where she is working on her music and in the midst of things, she just so happens to bite her lips.
Hard. Until she can distinguish the familiar, metallic taste on her tongue. It's ridiculous, really, but then Chloe is looking right at her with this electrifying look on her face, one that makes her look like a mischievous predator more than anything and Beca doesn't even have time to wipe the blood away before the redhead takes a few steps closer, is suddenly right in front of her.
"I guess I'll have to kiss it better, huh?"
And Beca might not be an expert when it comes to female friendships, but even she can tell that this is crossing a line that they won't be able to come back from. It's not that she necessarily minds, is kind of unable to breathe, to move, to do anything but wait for the arrival of Chloe's soothing lips. To kiss it all better.
Chloe's lips are on hers in an instant and it almost physically hurts when she doesn't get the chance to slip into it, to close her eyes, to enjoy the way it all makes her heart beat so fast it might jump right out of her chest and into Chloe's lap.
Beca doesn't think Amy has ever witnessed their soft tradition, believes it to be just like her to barge into the room at exactly this moment.
It's something that almost angers Beca and yet she can only feel it rise in her chest when she turns around and notes how unfazed Amy actually seems to be. By all of this. As though this isn't something huge, something surprising, something that Beca now realizes is something she's been waiting for all this time.
"What's up, guys?" It's nonchalant, without any intentions of wanting to tease them and for the first time Beca actually misses just that. What's up?, she wants to ask, Chloe Beale just kissed me. Chloe Beale just kissed me and I think I might die if it doesn't happen again and why is no one surprised?
"Chloe just kissed me." And there it is. Two can play that game. It's not a big deal, after all. Right?
"That wasn't a kiss." Chloe manages to sound dismissing in the most gentle and playful way and Beca immediately realizes that's not all there is to this. There's more and blue eyes are practically begging her to ask. She does, despite the fact that it seems to hurt just a little too much.
"Oh no?" she asks, eyebrows raised questioningly. It's exactly what the other woman had wanted her to ask and Beca sees it in yet another, dimpled smile. In the mischievous gleam in her eyes.
Beca doesn't expect her answer to come in the form of soft hands pulling her closer, until there's no space left between them and their lips are touching again. Softer, this time, yet firm and passionate and deeper. They don't pull back as quickly as before, but when they do, after losing themselves in each other for way too long, Chloe's grinning at her.
"That, Beca, was a kiss."
Almost thinking that the moment couldn't get any better, Beca turns around to see that Amy finally has the decency to look at least a little surprised. She mirrors Chloe's grin, then, and somehow it's impossibly brighter.