Desperate Measures - Ch. 4/4
Title: Desperate Measures Author: aliciameade Rating: E for Everyone in the building now hates Apartment 3N Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Mid-PP3. They are quarantined. Chloe and Beca have everything they need to weather the mandated period of social distancing and staying home: food, water, shelter, games, entertainment, and each other’s company.
The one thing they don’t have?
Much-needed privacy.
Also on AO3
Dedicated to my dearest @becabottommitchell. 🎯 😘
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Beca wasn’t sure how Chloe’s and her newfound dynamic would change once Fat Amy returned to their lives.
They’d had two months of isolation together and, quite frankly, Beca had all but forgotten there was an entire world filled with other people beyond their four walls. And she really wasn’t a fan of any of them.
She was, however, a big fan of the person whose fingertips were wandering inconspicuously along her left thigh.
They’re meant to be working together to clean the kitchen after the dinner the three had made but Amy had excused herself, explaining that she needed to get ready for her Hot Date with someone, conveniently leaving the mess to Chloe and Beca.
Beca had decided to take on the dishes while Chloe finished clearing the table and stove but following Chloe’s most recent trip to the sink where Beca stood, she’d dropped in the dishes instead of walking away, had stepped behind Beca.
It had made every hair on the back of her neck stand up when she sensed Chloe’s proximity and Chloe had giggled in her ear at Beca’s shiver the second her fingertips grazed the skin just below the hem of her dress.
“What are you doing?” she says under her breath, hand tightening so much on the plate she’s washing that it slips out and back into the water with a splash.
“Touching you,” Chloe answers breezily, as though she’s flipping through a magazine or shopping for shoes online. As if to reinforce her answer, her fingertips travel higher until they’re lifting Beca’s dress to glide over her hip and back down to where they tease a few inches above her knee. “Is that okay?”
“Amy’s literally right there,” she whispers, clanging a few dishes in the sink to help cover her words.
Chloe’s response is just a hum followed by her fingers meandering their way higher once again. They don’t seem to be making their destination clear, though Beca’s body has a pretty good idea regardless. She can feel the way it’s responding to Chloe and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly she’s aroused.
Amy’s loud voice cuts through her thoughts, however. “Red or black?”
She feels Chloe move away from her as though she turned around. It’s a few seconds of reprieve from the oppressive arousal that is invading her mind and body.
“Ooh, go with the black,” Chloe replies.
“Red it is,” Amy says confidently. The sound of hangers screeching across the clothing rack that serves to weakly divide Amy’s sleeping area from Chloe and Beca’s follows, as does Chloe’s presence behind Beca.
“What if I took you right now?” The words are whispered hotly in Beca’s ear and they, along with Chloe’s fingers quickly ascending her inner thigh, make her drop the same plate she’d dropped a minute earlier. “Think I can make you come before she finishes changing?”
Beca’s vision blurs. She has little doubt Chloe could make good on her hypotheticals. Maybe it’s because Amy’s return to their lives was sudden and unexpected, leaving the current evolution of their relationship without a label. Maybe it’s because they didn’t get one last grand hurrah before having a third party present almost all hours of the day. But it’s been three days since they regained their roommate and three days without what had become Beca’s new normal: frequent and often intense physical affection and attention from Chloe.
Even under the cover of darkness, in bed together at night, they seemed to silently and mutually agree to keep their distance from one another. They hadn’t so much as kissed since the day Amy returned.
To say she was horny was an understatement.
And now Chloe’s teasing her, touching her in not-quite-there places that she hasn’t touched her in what feels like an eternity with the promise for more with Amy’s departure from the apartment imminent. The first time they’ll be alone in 72 hours.
“You’re not going to answer me?” Chloe doesn’t whisper it, innocuous a question as it is out-of-context, and it, along with her finger brushing over the thin material of Beca’s underwear between her legs shakes Beca out of her reverie to send her hips rocking forward with a gasp and the word, “Shit.”
“Did you cut yourself on my Ginsu, Shawshank?”
No, Beca did not cut herself on Amy’s home shopping network-purchased knife. She might as well have, though, for as hard as her heart is beating. “Nope!” she grinds out, hoping she can deter Amy from coming to investigate. “Thought I did but I’m not bleeding.”
“Those knives can cut through a steel can and still slice tomatoes paper-thin; don’t dull them up.”
“Yep, got it!” she spits and sends a side-eye in Chloe’s direction at the satisfied chuckle next to her ear. “She’s going to catch us if you don’t stop,” she says, lowering her voice.
“Maybe if you could control yourself.” There’s a smirk in Chloe’s tone and Beca tries to brace herself for it because she knows, she knows Chloe’s going to touch her again and just when she thinks it’s coming, the warmth of Chloe’s proximity disappears, accompanied by the scrape of hangers again.
“Ooh, you look great!” Chloe says cheerfully. “Doesn’t she, Bec?”
Beca has to hang her head and gather her thoughts before slapping on a smile to turn and look. “Yep! Go get ‘em, tiger,” she says a bit disdainfully. It’s not fair how turned on she is and it’s not fair that Amy’s taking approximately three millennia to leave for her date which, if history remains true, will likely keep her out all night.
“I don’t want to come home to any broken furniture,” Amy says casually as she drops an alarming collection of items into an oversized purse, of which Beca doesn’t want to think about when she’s potentially seconds away from desperately needed release. “And I have a blacklight. I will be inspecting all communal surfaces when I return.”
“Ew,” Beca grimaces as she turns back to stare idly at the sink full of water and dishes. She should just pull the plug and give up on the task and she dries her hands on the dishtowel in resignation. She wonders if Amy’s bluffing or if she does have a blacklight and has used it and what it’s already revealed.
“You got it,” Chloe chirps. It’s not a denial that such an inspection won’t be necessary and that floors Beca even further.
To Amy’s credit, despite her tendencies to tease her friends to the point of harassment, she hasn’t said much about Chloe and Beca since her first day back. She’d called them out but had also shut up about it which Beca was very grateful for. Considering the myriad possibilities, the threat of a blacklight wasn’t much. She knew they’d hooked up. At least she wasn’t adding undue stress about defining their relationship.
Beca was putting enough pressure on herself for that, trying to figure out what to do and what to say.
But for now, she was listening to Amy and Chloe’s idle conversation and the sounds of Amy putting on her shoes and picking up her keys, all the while feeling Chloe’s presence hovering behind her. Close enough that their elbows touch.
“Don’t wait up!” is the last thing she hears Amy say before the door closes behind her.
The sound of it latching makes Beca slump against the counter. “I thought she’d never leave.”
“Stop talking,” Chloe says and her voice is so blunt it makes Beca stand up straight again, only to be pinned against the sharp edge of the counter by Chloe’s body pressing into her as their lips reconnect for the first time in days.
Beca just nods at the command and wraps her arms around Chloe’s neck to accept the hard, demanding kiss.
“Fuck, I want you so much,” Chloe breathes as her lips slide to Beca’s neck. Her hands are already on Beca’s thighs and Beca steps wider to accommodate her. She kind of wishes they would at least relocate to their bed, first, but she has no real complaints. Not when Chloe’s fingers are already between her legs, rubbing against the soaked fabric of her underwear.
Beca moans in response and pushes her hips forward. She wants more: hard, fast, wet, deep. All of it. It’s been too long. She wants Chloe, too.
The sudden onslaught of heat is, however, interrupted by the sound of the door banging open again.
“Forgot my manacles. Pretend I’m not here.”
Chloe’s mouth disappears from Beca’s skin, both of them jumping in surprise at Amy’s unexpected, loud return.
“Did she say manacles?” Beca says, voice hushed as she breathes hard, heart racing.
Despite her abruptly pulling her mouth away from Beca’s neck, Chloe’s still just as close as she had been, and her fingers are still pressing against Beca. They’re even moving, if only slightly. “Not going to think about that right now.”
“Oh, my God, stop,” Beca says when she realizes it, too startled by the interruption to notice it sooner. Her hand seizes Chloe’s forearm but she can’t quite bring herself to actually push her away, not when Chloe’s eyes are so dark and locked onto her own.
Beca can see Amy in her periphery, mostly obscured by the clothing rack as she moves around her space rifling through drawers.
Something about that, about Amy acknowledging that she was interrupting something while pointedly ignoring it while she busies herself looking for her manacles (?), scratches at a part of Beca she hadn’t really known existed, and suddenly she’s shaking her head.
“No, don’t stop,” she quietly amends, pushing Chloe’s hand harder against herself.
She watches the effect of her permission slip into Chloe’s features: a pink blush in her cheeks, eyes wide with surprise, her lower lip snagged between her teeth as her fingers keep working against Beca.
Beca can see the challenge in her eyes, can sense that Chloe’s remembering her daring questions from a few minutes ago about how quickly she could get Beca off. But Beca shakes her head; she doesn’t want that. Amy’s right there even if she is distracted and Beca really doesn’t want to be mid-orgasm when she finds what she needs and waltzes through the kitchen where Chloe is actively fucking her.
Chloe seems to understand because she does ease up the slightest bit when Beca releases her death-grip on her arm in favor of gripping the counter. She can still remember the last time she was gripping this counter; she’s been bent over their now-disposed-of kitchen table while Chloe railed her to within an inch of her sanity.
The memory zips right to her core and she can actually feel herself get wetter because of it. She knows Chloe feels it, too, because she moans, so, so quietly that it doesn’t even really leave her throat, and runs her fingers agonizingly slowly further, even teasing Beca’s entrance through her still-present underwear.
She has to close her eyes and try to focus on keeping it together. She can’t moan or work herself against Chloe’s hand or even kiss her; all of that would be too obvious. She focuses on her breathing and the way Chloe’s own warm breath drifts over her lips, a constant reminder of her closeness as if the fingers slowly driving Beca insane weren’t enough. The sound of heavy, thick metal suddenly rings out and her eyes snap open to meet Chloe’s equally surprised and somewhat amused gaze.
“Found ‘em!” Amy announces, and the clanging of metal increases as, Beca assumes based on what she can see without looking away from Chloe, she adds large metal restraints to her bag of tricks. “I’ll be outta here in a jiffy. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It’s fine,” Chloe says lightly, like she’s not actively slipping her fingers under the edge of Beca’s underwear so her fingertips can massage—so, so slowly—Beca’s clit directly.
It makes a whimper escape Beca’s clenched jaw and she turns her head to appear very interested in the yellowed laminated paper glued to the side of the ceiling cabinet containing instructions on using the fire extinguisher that supposedly came with their apartment (it did not). She hears Chloe chuckle and sees Amy emerge from her area, oversized bag clanging as it swings over her shoulder. She knows Chloe’s body is obscuring what she’s doing, but that doesn’t stop the massive blush she feels hit her cheeks.
“Okay, I’m out of here once again,” Amy says, opening the door only to stop and keep talking. “I promise to knock if I need to come back for anything. I know you two have been keeping your knees closed since I got home and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that and I realize you are probably really looking forward to my being gone tonight. But I’ll have to come back if I decide I need my strawberry-flavored—”
“Amy, leave!” Beca says, a little more forcefully than she intended it to be, but Chloe had chosen that exact moment to slip the tip of her finger inside Beca, even as she’s turning to smile at their departing roommate.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m sure Chloe could help you out of them if you needed it though,” she adds, very conspicuously under her breath. “I’m going, I’m going.”
“Have a good night!” Chloe chirps.
Together, they watch the door close, Chloe already pushing the length of her middle finger into Beca while keys and the deadbolt jangle and clunk as Amy locks it. If she returns, at least they’ll have a few extra seconds’ warning.
“Oh, my God,” Beca says, and she means to groan it but it comes out more like a desperate whine, but she doesn’t care. Chloe’s lips are waiting for her when she turns back from staring at the cabinet.
“That was so hot,” Chloe says before her tongue is filling Beca’s mouth, doing dirty things that rival what she’s doing between Beca’s legs.
Beca hums in agreement and rocks her hips forward when the heel of Chloe’s hand grinds into her clit. “You’re really gonna make me stand up for this?” she pants when Chloe’s lips travel to her neck once again.
“Just the first one,” she answers simply as a second finger slides in next to the first to make Beca lift herself up on her tiptoes for a few seconds before she’s pushing herself down onto them to try to take them deeper.
“First one?” She needs more. No, she doesn’t need more; she knows she’s going to come, and quickly. But she wants more. She wants Chloe all night. She wants to piss off their neighbors again by making Chloe scream her name. The ferocity with which she simply wants Chloe in all senses of the term is an almost startling thought to have in the middle of getting fucked in the kitchen and it takes everything she has to not say something dumb.
Instead, she moans, “Faster,” and shifts her weight to her one foot so she can wrap her leg around Chloe’s waist, but before she can, Chloe’s twisting away from her. Her free hand grabs the nearest chair to spin and drag it over and for a second, Beca thinks she’s going to get to sit down but Chloe just pushes it against the counter next to Beca.
“Here,” she says, guiding Beca’s foot to rest on the seat of the chair instead of having to balance on one foot. It also parts her legs spectacularly wide.
“Oh, fuck,” Beca manages to laugh through a moan.
“Good?” Chloe asks, but it’s rhetorical. She’s no longer kissing Beca; instead, she’s watching. Watching her face, looking down—and lifting Beca’s skirt out of the way—and watching her hand as her fingers slide and curl their way in and out of Beca again and again.
But Beca nods anyway. It’s good. It’s so, so fucking good and watching Chloe watching how she’s fucking Beca has her—
“Shit, I’m so close,” she gasps, the first pings of her orgasm already making her hips twitch as her arms loop around Chloe’s neck again to try to keep from sinking to the floor.
The words make Chloe’s eyes snap to her face, dark eyes begging before she even says, “God, yes, come for me, Bec.”
Chloe doesn’t bother kissing her to shut her up. Chloe wants to hear her so she lets her hear, moaning and swearing as she comes with Chloe’s fingers buried as deeply as they possibly can be.
She does kiss her once it’s passed and Beca’s trying to catch her breath, whining when Chloe withdraws from her because she’s not nearly ready to be finished yet. But the kiss is satisfactory enough for now because they haven’t kissed in three days and she’s pretty sure she could kiss Chloe forever and still want to kiss her again.
With Chloe’s hand no longer between them, she fits between Beca’s parted legs and Beca’s immediately grateful when Chloe’s hips, and the rough denim covering them, start to rock slowly against her. She has to hike her skirt up and out of the way, and she hates that she’s still wearing underwear, but they’re so wet they slide deliciously against her with every roll of Chloe’s hips.
She’s the one to break the kiss after a few too many just-right connections. “You said just the first one.” Maybe she should feel pathetic for how needy she is, but she can’t find it in herself to care.
“Okay, okay,” Chloe says with a playful roll of her eyes as she takes a step back and aside and gestures to let Beca pass. “After you.”
Beca rolls her eyes in return and hurries across the room on somewhat unsteady legs until she’s standing at the foot of their bed. She’s suddenly filled with uncertainty, however. Should she crawl into bed and let Chloe undress her? Should she wait and see what Chloe has in mind next?
When Chloe isn’t immediately with her, she turns around to find out why, only to see Chloe just standing where she’s been the entire time, just looking at Beca as if she’s waiting for something.
There’s a shred of being given control that comes with Chloe hanging back and it emboldens her to bring her hands to the first button on her dress, the one that sits nestled at the top of her cleavage, to unbutton it.
The action gets Chloe’s attention and her demeanor shifts from waiting for something to actively watching, eyes furtively bouncing from Beca’s fingers as they undo button after button. It’s not really necessary to be able to remove her dress; she could simply pull it up and over her head at any time. But holding Chloe’s rapt attention and seeing the excitement and desire that builds with each small button slipping out of its hole is intoxicating.
She knows her bra is visible in the small gap that lengthens with each button. It has Chloe’s attention, eyes no longer quite reaching Beca’s, fixating on the skin she’s revealing and tracking her hands’ path until she’s undoing the final button at her waist. All that’s left to do is let it slip off her shoulders and fall.
“Take it off,” Chloe finally says after Beca makes her wait too long.
All it takes is a shrug of her shoulders and a tug on the hem to let the patterned dress slink off her body to pool on the floor at her feet.
She’d expected the moment, one that has felt somewhat suspended in dreamy time, to extend further, for Chloe to stare and drink in her form the way Beca would do if their positions were reversed, to ask Beca to continue undressing for Chloe’s enjoyment.
Instead, Chloe advances so quickly she hasn’t quite finished taking the breath she knows she’ll need when Chloe’s lips are claiming hers again. Warm, strong hands are everywhere and she feels her bra loosen and get stripped away, followed by her breasts being claimed and held and squeezed in such a desperate, demanding way she realizes she hasn’t given much thought that Chloe is probably in a similar state as herself with their sudden hiatus.
“Lay down,” Chloe says with a sudden breaking of their kiss. Except she doesn’t stand back and let Beca do it herself. Her hands twist Beca by the hips to face the bed before she’s half-falling, half-crawling onto it. “Stay like that.”
The request instantly makes the back of her neck hot as she relaxes into the bed on her stomach, though nothing about her is at ease. She can hear Chloe undressing behind her, the tell-tale sounds of fabric shifting and the metal teeth of the zipper of her jeans before the soft tink of their button hitting the floor tells her Chloe’s naked. Or mostly naked. She wants to twist her neck and look but it’s more fun to not know.
She’s startled and relieved when Chloe’s hands finally land on her calves, especially when they travel higher so quickly until she can feel Chloe climbing onto the bed behind her. Hands travel higher still until they’re palming her ass and she can feel hard nipples grazing the backs of her knees before teeth lightly but pointedly sink into the soft flesh along the edge of her underwear.
“Shit,” she can’t help but gasp, her back bowing from the way her body is responding to Chloe’s almost demanding touch. Fingers curl under the waistband of her underwear and pull. They’re so ruined that she hopes Chloe notices and is proud of her work as they’re peeled down her legs and tossed aside.
“You’re so hot,” Chloe breathes, hot against her back before wet kisses start dropping in random places. Her right shoulder. The back of her neck. Along her ribs on her left side. Chloe’s hands are still seemingly everywhere, fingernails dragging lightly down her back only to warmly slide up her sides, working their way under Beca until her breasts are in her hands and Chloe’s hips grind forward against her ass.
The feeling makes her jaw drop and a shudder runs down her back as her own hips try to press up and back, wanting contact that is only being hinted at as Chloe grinds into her, mouthing at her back and neck and making every part of her ache with need.
She’s about to beg for more when she feels Chloe lift away from her, hands skirting down her ribs to start tugging on her hips until she’s pushing herself up and onto her elbows and knees. The position makes her head spin and she presses her forehead into the mattress to brace herself. She bites her lip at the memory that springs up of all the times she was “forced” to watch Chloe do yoga on the floor, and that she’s basically in frog pose. She’d laughed at its name at the time but that was only to mask all the thoughts she’d had about how it was a wildly sexual position.
And now here she is.
“Just like that,” Chloe praises and Beca feels a hand run up her back until it’s scratching at the nape of her neck and twisting into her hair. The other moves around to Beca’s stomach and then down until her fingers are slipping through Beca’s wetness again.
The sudden contact makes Beca moan and rock backward, instantly in search of more. Always more. “Fuck.”
“I can’t believe how wet you are.” Fingers sink into Beca as though to make her point and the fullness she feels with it makes her walk her knees wider.
She knows it’s three inside her, not two, and she clenches around them, moaning as she tries to pull Chloe deeper. “Fuck, Chlo. Please.”
There’s a gentle tug on her hair that feels less than accidental. It felt a lot like a reminder of who’s in charge at the moment but despite that, her hair is released and nails drag down her spine again. Fingers slip out of her, then, and she whines in irritation only to feel them slip in again, this time from another angle. This time from behind, while the three that just withdrew from her start, with no teasing or hesitation, rubbing her clit.
“Oh, fuck,” she stutters, biting her lip because she doesn’t want to get too loud too soon. She’s bent over on the bed, Chloe behind her—kneeling between her parted legs, she assumes—using both of her hands to fuck Beca. “Oh, God don’t stop.”
Chloe doesn’t answer her. She just moves more quickly. Faster circles onto her clit. Faster fingers pumping into her cunt. Except as soon as Beca starts to get close, as soon as her moan is too obviously on-edge, Chloe eases off Beca’s clit and it drops her right back down to where she started. Maybe a degree or two higher. All but back at the beginning.
It’s maddening.
And it’s thrilling.
Chloe’s not exactly teasing her, though she is pointedly denying her an inevitable release.
“So good,” she says after a groan of agony when her orgasm gets yanked away from her again, only for it to start rebuilding immediately. She’s almost nervous about how hard she’s going to come when Chloe finally lets her.
She feels Chloe moving behind her, though her pace and rhythm fucking Beca barely falters. There’s a shifting of the bed, a squeaking of a different spring that isn’t one of the ones already whining and from their motion. She can see Chloe behind her at the very edge of her vision when she opens her eyes and turns to let her cheek rest against the bed instead of her forehead. She’s not directly behind Beca anymore and she’s still trying to figure out what’s happening when she feels the hot slickness that she knows is Chloe settling over her left calf.
Chloe moans with the contact, as does Beca who flexes her leg on instinct to harden the muscle just as Chloe drags herself against it.
Neither says anything but it’s a mutual acknowledgment. Chloe is so turned on she needs relief herself but her hands are both too busy with Beca to touch herself. Beca’s happy to provide what she can in her position.
She can only watch for a few seconds before it threatens to give her a headache from straining, the blurry silhouette of Chloe astride her leg, rutting herself against it wantonly.
“Fuck, Beca,” she finally moans after what feels like several minutes of Chloe not easing up. It makes Beca shiver and tense up in anticipation that Chloe might come soon. That Chloe might let her come soon.
The spot Chloe’s reaching in her right now, though, might not give Chloe any say in the matter. It’s making Beca’s fingers twist into the bedding to ground herself because she feels like she might ascend any second.
Only Chloe fucking stops and the groan that gets ripped from Beca’s throat is ripe with frustration, enough that she hears Chloe laugh. “What’s wrong?” Chloe asks entirely too cheerfully for what’s happening. But Chloe doesn’t just stop, she actually pulls out of Beca. She almost deflates in agony but Chloe’s hands catch her hips before she can and she can tell she’s moving again.
“Fuck off,” Beca replies though it’s all sexual frustration and no ire. She’s already resigned herself to being at Chloe’s mercy for whatever she feels like doing to her tonight. She knows it will be worth it in the end if she can find the patience.
She can’t see Chloe anymore if she opens her eyes and she doesn’t bother trying to lift her head. She likes not knowing what’s going to happen next. She can tell Chloe’s moving away from her; she’s not straddling her leg anymore. The hands on her hips move to her ass to grip it, almost tugging on it possessively and Beca chokes on air when Chloe’s tongue is suddenly pressing into her.
“What...fuck…” she groans, pushing herself up onto her elbows again so she can let her head hang. It’s too hard to breathe otherwise. Not when Chloe’s tongue is inside her. Not when it audibly slides out to instead lick at her swollen clit.
There’s movement again and this time she feels Chloe’s body settling between her legs and she cranes her neck down enough to look down her own body to see Chloe on her back, already pulling Beca down toward her face. She manages to wonder if Chloe knows Beca’s looking because her tongue is literally out and waiting like she wants Beca to see and both of them moan when Beca lets her knees slide wider apart until she’s on Chloe’s tongue.
She should have known Chloe would be just as merciless with her mouth as she’d been with her hands. There are only a few seconds of gentle grazing before Chloe has her clit between her lips to suck on it.
All Beca can really do is hold on. Chloe’s grip is so tight around her thighs she can barely move. Her hips want to rock, want to ride Chloe’s face, but she can’t.
At least Chloe doesn’t let up when Beca lets a moan slip that is a dead giveaway that she’s close.
“Please,” she says between gasping breaths and moans. “Fuck, please…”
Chloe’s answering hum lilts positively and she sucks harder. Like she’s giving Beca permission. Permission she hadn’t consciously been waiting for but somehow needed because as soon as it registers as permission, the orgasm that’s been denied at least half a dozen times in the past however many minutes crashes through her with frightening intensity. She can’t breathe but somehow can’t stop moaning. She can’t hold herself up but Chloe’s hands keep her from potentially suffocating her...roommate. She can’t feel her own fingers but she can feel the way her body is pulsing around the fingers that she doesn’t remember slipping into her with the new position.
A particularly strong aftershock lurches her forward and out of Chloe’s grasp, leaving her to gasp to catch her breath and try to recover, even as she feels Chloe’s lips on the curves of her ass and up her spine and across her shoulders until she sees through blurry vision as Chloe stretches out on her back alongside her, smiling at Beca until Chloe’s eyes close with a moan. Beca doesn’t have to look down to know Chloe’s touching herself; she’s watched her do it enough times that she knows exactly what it looks and sounds like.
But she does anyway because she’ll never get tired of watching Chloe fuck herself until she’s coming and moaning Beca’s name. She wants to help. She wants to turn onto her side and push Chloe’s hand away and take over.
Her heart is still pounding, though, and all she can manage is to reach a tired hand over to rest it on Chloe’s just to feel. She’s touching herself hard and fast and it doesn’t help Beca’s pulse to slow. The connection makes Chloe moan her name and it draws Beca’s eyes back up to her face. Chloe’s gaze is on her, though it frequently drifts as her eyelashes flutter the closer she gets.
Chloe’s climax hits her hard, thighs closing to trap her and Beca’s hands between them while she rides it out.
“God, I needed that so much,” Chloe says with a sigh of relief after a minute or two, head lolling to the left to look at Beca with an easy, contented smile.
Beca’s sure she herself still looks wrecked, but she can’t find it in herself to care. She manages a breathy laugh. “You’re telling me. Fuck, dude.”
Chloe’s smile brightens and she shimmies her shoulders a little. She’s proud. “Good?”
Beca laughs again, this time in disbelief because ‘good’ doesn’t even begin to describe what she just experienced.
“Gonna assume that means yes.”
“Mm, you’d be right,” Beca replies, finally finding the strength to stretch. “I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
Beca glances at her as she stretches until she’s working herself onto her side so they can look at each other more easily. “Still going to repay you though. Just...need a few for minutes. I can almost feel my legs again.”
Chloe bursts into laughter at that and it makes Beca’s heart skip a beat. It’s never been so easy to be with anyone. Certainly not after sex.
And the sex.
She knows it’s cliche, but she’s had the best sex of her life with Chloe.
And she’s just as happy with Chloe when they aren’t having sex; if she wasn’t, they wouldn’t have been friends for so many years.
But she really, really misses the sex when they aren’t having it.
She knows what that all means but she shoves it away and instead works on gathering her strength because she’s determined to make Chloe come just as hard as she’d been made to. She knows Chloe would be fine with things if they fell asleep right now and that only makes Beca want her more. She also can’t accept the fact that Chloe’s fucked her senseless twice already and Beca’s barely had a chance to touch her tonight.
She hasn’t touched her at all. Not really.
Even if Chloe’s insisting Beca owes her nothing in return, she’s not-subtly suggesting she wouldn’t be opposed by lifting her hand, fingers still wet from herself, to Beca’s lips.
She needed an energy shot and Chloe’s given it to her. She can’t stop the moan that comes with tasting Chloe as she parts her lips to take her slender middle finger into her mouth. It spurs her on until she’s sitting up, Chloe’s hand falling away so Beca can move over until she’s leaning down to kiss Chloe and her hips fit between Chloe’s parted thighs.
She can tell Chloe’s trying to hold back, and as thoughtful and sweet as Beca finds that to be, she doesn’t want it. She kisses harder, rolling her hips against Chloe until Chloe’s fingernails dig into Beca where her hands have been idly resting.
“I wanna fuck you,” Beca says when she breaks from their kiss. The look on Chloe’s face at her statement is very telling.
“Who’s stopping you?” She’s a little breathless and her hips are still pushing up into Beca’s in the rhythm Beca had set, though Beca’s no longer moving.
The statement is one of consent in its sexiest form. It makes her bite her lip in thought; she hadn’t gotten that far yet. She just knew she wanted to be the one responsible for Chloe’s next orgasm (or two, or three...).
“How do you want me?”
The question draws Beca out of her thoughts and she meets Chloe’s eyes. She’s looking at Beca expectantly and she’s still working herself against Beca’s hips for whatever friction she can gain. It also plants another thought in her brain.
“Like this,” she answers with a pointed roll of her hips that makes Chloe’s breath catch, only for Beca to extract herself from their embrace until she’s climbing off the bed.
She can feel Chloe’s eyes on her as she sits up to rest on her elbows, watching as Beca crouches to pull open the bottom drawer of Chloe’s nightstand.
“Oh, really?” Chloe asks in amusement and Beca tries not to blush as she slips the harness briefs Chloe had purchased—and put to good use—specifically to bend Beca over. Beca has yet to wear it.
“Shut up, you asked,” Beca huffs though she’s not genuinely defensive. She grabs the accompanying toy and bottle of lube before climbing back onto the bed to kneel between Chloe’s legs, still parted just as she’d left her, and work the toy into its O-ring.
“Can’t believe you’re trying to top me right now.”
Beca does blush at that and throws a glare her way. Beca’s affinity for being...welcoming of Chloe being in charge was something they were both aware of but never explicitly discussed. Until now, apparently. “I can always put this away, you know.” It’s an empty threat.
Chloe smiles up at her and pointedly spreads her legs wider. It’s not necessary whatsoever; Beca already had plenty of room. She does it to tell Beca she wants it—wants her—and Beca leans down to kiss her, taking care to keep her hips back so there’s nothing but the barest graze of contact for Chloe.
She melts into the kiss; Chloe’s intentionally keeping it slow and sensual even though Beca’s the one ostensibly in control. She doesn’t mind, though. The things Chloe can do with her tongue, whether it’s in Beca’s mouth or on Beca’s skin, never make Beca want to rush things.
Other than when Beca just wants to come.
She’s unhurried now, though. Satiated, mostly. She still feels warm and heavy and when she feels Chloe’s hand between them to guide the toy, Beca uses that weighty feeling to sink into her.
Chloe’s reaction is a low, throaty groan that makes Beca’s hips grind into her on instinct to prolong the sound. She’s never done this with Chloe, and it’s been a long time since she’s done it with anyone at all, but she doesn’t feel awkward like she has when she’s worn a strap-on with other women. She doesn’t feel pressured to perform and Chloe is so warm and at-ease beneath her. She knows she can take her time if she wants to, even as Chloe’s quiet whimpers and shifting hips urge her to do more than stay buried in her and grinding slowly while they kiss.
When she feels Chloe’s heel press into her lower back, she decides she can be done taking her time.
It’s easy to set a slow rhythm with her hips, especially once she lifts herself onto her elbows. It lets her look at Chloe, too, and the way her long eyelashes flutter every time Beca pushes into her.
The physical connection between them is, she knows, artificial, but the emotional one feels particularly real and resonating and for all the wild, lustful abandonment of how the night began, it feels particularly calm and almost soothing and the way Chloe’s eyes are on hers as she lifts a hand to frame Beca’s face, thumb tracing along her cheekbone until Beca’s kissing it when it presses against her lips only adds to it.
She’s filled with the urge to speak, to spill out feelings and confessions and she almost does it. Her lips even part and she takes a breath. But Chloe chooses the exact same moment to tilt her head back and moan, “Faster, Bec,” and the moment evaporates in favor of doing as Chloe’s asked.
She works her hips faster until she finds a good pace she can keep without getting too winded and it seems to work for Chloe, too, who moans her appreciation in the way Beca knows means she’s starting to lose herself to sex.
And that, the fact that Chloe can lose herself in the way Beca can make her feel, drives her. Drives her to shift herself until she can get a hand on the back of Chloe’s left knee to pull it up and then press it back, closer to Chloe’s chest. Drives her hips into Chloe with more force.
It pulls a groan of what sounds like surprise from Chloe, whose hands claw at Beca’s shoulders at the dramatic change from steady lovemaking to what Beca knows is raw fucking driven by need. A need for pleasure and release and for Beca to make Chloe piss off their neighbors.
“Oh, my God, Beca,” Chloe moans. She still sounds dazed and Beca watches as she throws a hand back to press against the back of the couch that serves as their headboard to brace herself. It helps Beca’s thrusts hit even harder and more deeply and she watches as Chloe’s other hand falls from Beca’s shoulder to move between them. All Beca has to do is glance down for a second to confirm her assumption: Chloe’s touching herself again.
It means she’s close and wants to come and Beca doesn’t try to stop her. She wants to watch Chloe come like this, neck straining and body moving higher and lower on the bed with every move Beca makes.
It’s Beca that’s doing all these things to her. Making her moan. Making her so wet Beca can hear it. Making herself come while Beca’s pushing into her again and again with a moan that sounds ripped from her throat as she shudders. Beca slows so she can watch it happen until she’s no longer moving, just breathing hard and pressed as close to Chloe as she can manage while Chloe breathes just as hard.
Beca should have known when Chloe’s body didn’t melt into the bed in relaxation, but she’s still caught off-guard when Chloe’s eyes finally open and they’re just as dark as they’d been before she came.
“Don’t stop yet.”
Beca doesn’t mean to laugh but it’s a hint of delirium and a dash of physical exhaustion that cause it and she tries to cover it up by clearing her throat and shifting her weight to her right arm instead of her left, but she knows Chloe caught it when hands come up to hold her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” Chloe says earnestly and Beca knows it is, though she doesn’t necessarily agree with the implications.
“I can do it again,” she says with determination and tries to ignore the way her weaker, non-dominant arm is already trembling.
“Bec,” Chloe says with a smile that turns into a smirk as she nudges at Beca’s shoulders. “Lay down?”
The offer comes as a relief even though her pride doesn’t want to admit it. She’s also really, really here for them rolling over because she definitely wants to watch Chloe riding her.
Except when Beca moves, Chloe doesn’t move with her and Beca finds herself alone on her back next to Chloe, who’s already sitting up, only to lean back down and kiss Beca as if she’d forgotten to do so before they parted.
“All good?” Chloe asks when they part and at Beca’s nod, the base of the strap-on grinds down against her clit.
“Fuck,” Beca gasps, hips immediately lifting in search of more. She’d been left painfully turned on with Chloe’s climax and she’s not sure how long she’ll last if Chloe’s going to keep doing what she’s doing. “Yeah, all good,” she answers after swallowing hard.
“This angle’s good?” Chloe’s purposeful with the way her hand is pressing and working the toy against Beca and Beca just nods. “Perfect,” she continues.
Beca watches her sit up again, missing her lips and the indirect friction but she knows it’s temporary.
She’s not ready for it, though, when instead of her right leg straddling Beca, Chloe’s turning her back to Beca and it’s her left leg straddling her.
“Oh, my God, what?” Beca says without thinking. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud but Chloe heard her and answers with a hum and all Beca can do is grab Chloe’s hips and watch Chloe guide the strap-on into herself until her body is flush with Beca’s. The view is different and just as sinful. Chloe’s back is all muscle and smooth skin that is already slick under Beca’s hands. Her hair hangs loose and reaches far down her back when she tips her face toward the ceiling with a moan that sounds more than satisfied.
She starts to move and immediately moans again. “You feel so good, shit, Beca.” There’s no slow increase of tempo this time; it’s clear Chloe doesn’t need the build-up. She leans forward just slightly and suddenly Beca’s the one groaning in surprise.
Now she understands what Chloe had been doing seconds ago. She wanted to figure out the angle that wasn’t just good for herself but good for Beca, too.
Chloe wants to make Beca come while she rides her.
“Good?” Chloe says with a turn of her head, though her eyes can’t meet Beca’s.
“Fuck,” Beca answers, digging her fingernails into Chloe’s hips to make her point. “Fuck, you look so hot.”
It’s not really an answer to Chloe’s question but it’s good enough. Chloe keeps the angle but works her hips even faster, her hands pushing through her own hair to lift it off her back in what is probably just need to cool off but it’s downright pornographic. It makes Beca’s hips start chasing her and Chloe feels it.
Her hands drop from her hair to cover Beca’s hands. Connection. Connection as she rides Beca so hard that the metal legs of their shitty fold-out bed are scraping against the wooden floor with her motion.
“Chlo,” Beca says. “Fuck.” She’s trying to warn her, to tell her she’s going to come any second and if the goal is to finish together, Chloe needs to slow down.
“Yes, Beca, yes,” Chloe groans in response and her long, hard thrusts shift to sitting hard against Beca and grinding down and back. “God, Beca, come with me,” she gasps, right hand shifting to pull Beca’s hand off of her and tangle their fingers together before pressing it back against her waist.
Connection.
Beca doesn’t know who’s louder or who comes harder or longer. All she knows is that it’s together and even if she can’t see Chloe’s face at the moment, she doesn’t need to feel just as close to her as she had felt earlier. It’s heady and all-encompassing and she hisses at the unexpected direct contact of fingertips against her overstimulated clit. She didn’t even notice Chloe had moved at all, let alone turned around to lay next to Beca again.
“One more?” she asks as she kisses along Beca’s cheek.
Beca genuinely doesn’t think she can, at least not so soon, but all she can manage in reply is a moan when her hips decide for her and lift up into Chloe’s hand. It’s a snug fit, her hand down the front of the briefs, but that doesn’t matter. It makes it better.
“Why?” Beca finally manages just before Chloe’s lips make it back to her own.
“Why not?” Chloe answers.
Then they’re kissing again but Beca can hardly manage more than just offering her lips and mouth and tongue to Chloe for whatever she wants; she can’t focus anymore. Not when Chloe’s fingers are swiping back and forth across her swollen clit with a lewd kind of intensity that makes Beca feel a little like she’s in an adult film. One she’s proud to be the star of at the moment.
She doubts that she’ll be able to come again even with how amazingly intense it feels. It feels like a never-ending chord that’s been struck and sustained and she thinks it’s going to fade away until something changes. Maybe the speed or the angle or the pressure but with no warning and with a gasp that only makes Chloe kiss her harder when really what she needs is oxygen her body rocks into a blinding orgasm.
She can hear words. Chloe’s voice is in her ear which lets her breathe again. She doesn’t know what she’s saying but she sounds happy. Proud, maybe. It’s hard to concentrate on language when her body won’t stop throbbing and clenching around the fingers that slipped inside her at some point.
“I could do this with you forever.”
They’re the first words that register once her brain clears. They’re whispered while lips graze her cheek and jaw but she hears them ringing like a bell in her mind and they’re echoing her own thoughts from earlier.
Beca doesn’t dwell on it. She’s not really capable of complexities and she’s already been stripped bare in so many ways tonight. She just sighs and says, “So could I,” and tilts her chin so her lips can find Chloe’s.
She doesn’t start to panic about the exchange until Chloe’s helped her get the briefs off and tossed aside and she’s settled, warm and more than satiated, tucked into Chloe’s side, head on her shoulder and Chloe says, oh so casually, “So, forever, hm?”
It makes a different kind of heat flash through her and she hides her burning face against Chloe and does little more than grunt to at least acknowledge she heard her. She doesn’t know how to talk about this. She’s bad with words. Puts her foot in her mouth all the time. She’s an expert at saying the wrong thing.
“Beca,” Chloe says with a chuckle that rumbles against Beca’s ear. “It’s okay, you know?”
She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what Chloe is referring to. She has an idea, but right now, assumptions and misinterpretations could be deadly. So she chooses to remain silent with the hope and trust that Chloe will just keep talking and have most of this conversation herself.
“And I know things are starting to go back to how they used to be. But I don’t want us to go back to how we used to be.”
“You don’t?” Beca’s proud of herself for that response and stops pressing her face into Chloe’s shoulder and turns her cheek to it again. It helps that Chloe’s fingertips are grazing idly up and down her back in a way that could put Beca to sleep if her mind wasn’t racing.
She feels Chloe shake her head. “I really don’t.” There’s a beat of silence and Beca hears her sigh. “Do you?”
Beca feels like she could hear a pin drop if someone were to drop a pin and if she could hear over Chloe’s heart suddenly pounding in her chest beneath Beca’s ear. It betrays Chloe’s outward stillness and the notion that the question she’s posed is making her nervous, too, is somehow calming Beca. Maybe it’s that Chloe’s been thinking about it, too, and for all the same reasons Beca’s been kicking around in her mind for weeks, has been wary of bridging the topic.
It’s a yes or no question, one that will push them to one side of a line or the other: Just Friends or Something More. Chloe and Beca or Chloe and Beca. Friends or, dare she think it, girlfriends. After so many years, maybe they’re finally going to get it right.
Her fingers rap quickly in thought where they lay against Chloe’s ribs as she tries to get her mind to slow down long enough to answer. She knows she’s taking too long and Chloe’s going to interpret her silence as a bad thing if she doesn’t hurry up and speak.
“No,” she blurts. She didn’t even realize she’d committed to the decision but the word is past her lips before she can analyze it any further.
She feels Chloe’s sharp exhale. “You don’t?”
It’s out, now. She gives a shake of her head and feels Chloe’s arm moving to better wrap around her. “No. I...really, really don’t.”
Chloe giggles at that and Beca watches Chloe’s other hand come up to touch Beca’s chin so Beca leans back and lifts her head a bit so they can actually look at one another. She doesn’t overlook that Chloe’s bright eyes are a little misty in the same way they get when the little girl gets a puppy in whatever heartfelt movie they’re watching at any given time. Chloe’s smiling, too and Beca can’t help but mirror it. “So what does that mean?” Chloe asks, eyebrows lifting in a way that feels mildly like a challenge.
Beca huffs. “You’re really putting this on me, huh?”
Chloe shrugs and the hand that had grazed Beca’s chin moves to comb through Beca’s hair slowly, careful where there are tangles as she brushes it away from Beca’s face and behind her shoulder. She also worries at her bottom lip with her teeth even as she smiles.
It’s hard to imagine going back from this. That thought, and the way Chloe’s looking up at her with nervous excitement and touching her so lovingly… “Maybe that means we could try like...dating.” She has to bite her tongue to stop the ‘or whatever’ that wants to end the statement and instead rolls her eyes a little but quickly returns them to Chloe when fingernails scratch lightly at the back of her neck.
Chloe’s lip slips from between her teeth when her smile widens. “Yeah?”
“I mean…if you want.” She shrugs playfully. “I guess we could.”
“Okay,” Chloe says with a nod. “I’d like that.” Her hand tugs at Beca’s neck and Beca lets herself be reeled in for a slow kiss.
Beca would like that, too.
Very much.
The End
