dude, hold my beer.

AMY: BIG BM!

AMY: Nah, don't worry. We actually ran into each other by accident. Super weird, but fun to see him again. We had dinner to catch up, drinks etc. you know it ;)

AMY: The plan is to fly back next week or the week after. Mum is having a great time with her family so we're not sure yet. Although I did get a weird message from Lilly saying she is coming to get me or something.

AMY: Random question... the thing about my dad... you didn't tell anyone right?

BECA: well i'm glad you're having a dope time with your fam

BECA: of course not, dude. i'd never tell anyone.

BECA: dude, are you and bumper seriously a thing again??

BECA: did he randomly show up in australia or did you invite him or something??

It didn’t really hit her until just now, actually hearing those words leave Beca’s lips and echo into her ear from such a close proximity, how much Chloe had been kind of waiting to hear them. Wanting to hear them, in fact. Her lips pursed, eyes closing as she digested the conversation. “Friends can do whatever they want to do,” she murmured in response, chuckling under her breath at the slight whine she could hear to Beca’s tone. “I know you can’t, Bec,” she nodded, brushing a soft kiss to Beca’s ear, before pulling back just far enough to shoot her a small, lazy smile. “It’s okay.”

A Beca-esque grumble escaped and she heaved a heavy sigh, slumping harder into Chloe. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet scents of her sweat and shampoo, continuing to sway in perfect rhythm as they always had in all aspects of life. “Just dance with me, Chlo.” Thinking was hard. Thinking while shit-faced was harder. For once in her life, all she wanted to do was feel.

Chloe’s expression turned only more smug at that. “But you were, like, really staring,” she teased, dropping her arm to wrap around Beca’s waist again, then instantly tightening her hold. Her head tilted as Beca continued. “What don’t you get?” she asked, though she was cut off by the next confession, the sound of Beca’s voice so close to her ear sending that same shiver throughout her body again—even more so considering her actual words. Maybe the bold statement should’ve freaked her out—it would freak any normal person out—but Chloe only hummed contentedly. “I know,” she nodded, tipping her face to whisper back in return, “Like you kind of wish we were kissing sometimes, right?”

Chloe was always very free with her words; Beca wasn’t. Still, when she’d seen her staring at the class the other day, even filter-free Chloe had kept her mouth shut. But if Beca was loosening up right now, then Chloe saw no need for her not to do the same, and only mirrored Beca’s smirk as her gaze dropped to her lips, then rose upward again to take in her drunken expression. “I know you did,” she hummed, using the hold she still had on Beca’s finger to guide her arm around her neck again. “I think you saw me tonight, too.”

Sober, this would be very big news, something Chloe would probably question and ask Beca to elaborate, ask her how she was feeling after admitting something so huge. Considering they were not sober, however, all she could do was smirk as Beca’s finger pushed to her lips, head nodding in agreement. “Promise,” she grinned, voice muffled with the way Beca’s finger rested over her mouth. She pouted her lips to push a kiss there, then reached up to grasp Beca’s finger, holding onto it as she pulled it away from her face. “Sealed with a kiss and everything.” A devilish smile crept onto her lips then, other hand splayed across Beca’s lower back. “You know I saw you at my dance class, right?”

“Mhm,” Chloe hummed, comfortable in their close proximity—when had being pressed up closely to another person, especially Beca Mitchell, been anything but comfortable for her? They were in a club, the beat wasn’t exactly slow, but Chloe’s fingers brushed softly against Beca’s back through the fabric of her clothes, and something about the way Beca’s lips brushed to her ear sent a certain shiver down her spine. She pulled back slightly then, though, just to scan her gaze over Beca’s face. “Really?” Sexuality really wasn’t a big deal to Chloe, she’d always known her own, but she knew it was a tough subject for other people, so her brows rose as her drunken gaze lingered on Beca’s face.

“I think we’re both super hot,” Chloe retorted, allowing herself an eventual glance toward the aforementioned guy. She barely even took notice of him before bringing her focus back to Beca, though. It was funny how that happened so often, in fact. “You’re totes hotter than him.” It didn’t matter what Beca said, Chloe loved all of her friends, but she always had the most fun with Beca. It was nothing against any of the Bellas, she just…did. “Well, I don’t want to, I want you,” she shrugged, hips swaying against Beca’s from their close position. “I always want you.”

Chloe only shrugged in response, smirk stretching onto her lips as her arms wound in turn around Beca’s waist. “Why not? We can fold the bed away and make that whole space into a dance floor.” Not that their apartment was big enough for pretty much anything, but Chloe’s eyes still brightened at the idea. While Beca glanced to the side, Chloe found that her own gaze stayed trained to Beca’s face, and her brow rose as she leaned in, with absolutely no interest in looking to see who Beca was referring to. “Don’t worry, Bec. You’re my favorite dance partner,” she hummed, tightening her arms to pull their bodies closer together. “How do you know he’s not checking you out?”

Chloe would’ve been fine with leaving. She didn’t necessarily want to, but if Beca needed to get out of there, Chloe would’ve gone with her. It seemed like her dance had kind of caused…whatever this was, though she could’ve totally been reading into that all wrong, so she felt like she kind of owed it to her. Regardless, whatever Beca wanted to do, Chloe was happy to go along with her; she was her favorite person to be around, after all.

Releasing Beca’s hand once they found a small space on the dance floor, Chloe immediately began to move in time with the music, grin tugging onto her lips as her gaze swept over Beca’s cheek. “So is yours,” she pointed out, lifting a hand to run her fingertips over the rainbow paint, then let it fall to the pink handprint on her side. “Your side is, too. We should totes wear body paint more often.”

The crowded dance floor seemed like the very last place Beca needed to be right now, considering the way she was acting like she might fall over at any moment. Still, Chloe wasn’t going to tell her what to do, she wasn’t here to ruin her fun, so despite the fact that her gaze narrowed in on her face a moment longer, she eventually nodded her head. “Hmm, okay. If you say so…” she agreed, tugging on Beca’s hand to do as she’d said and lead the way. “But you’re sure you’re okay?” Her expression became a little more playful, eyes shining with mischief. “You need a lot of energy to keep up with my dancing, Bec.”

The crowded dance floor was exactly where Beca wanted to be, the thumping pulse of the music drowning out the uncomfortable pulsing in her own body. Mostly. And while part of her brain knew Chloe had caused said discomfort with her impromptu lap dance (and again, to a lesser extreme, during the pole dancing demonstration the other night), Beca couldn’t bring herself to put too much space between her and Chloe. While this strange feeling terrified her beyond measure, it also proved mighty addicting. Something she couldn’t fully ignore.

Despite Beca’s response, Chloe definitely was not convinced. She continued to watch her as they walked toward the bar, grip on Beca’s hand tightening with the thought that she might fall or something if they were to part. She might be kind of amused if she wasn’t so concerned.

“Um,” she thought for a moment, before reaching out to accept the glass. “Yes. But only a little bit, I feel like you need it more than I do.” She paused to take a couple quick sips, then offered the glass back out to Beca. “Do you think you drank a little too much? We can leave if you want, I don’t think anyone would mind.”

Even if her mind was a little clouded right now, Chloe wasn’t entirely oblivious. She could read the way Beca was acting, even if she didn’t completely understand it. She opened her mouth to say something, maybe ask Beca if she was okay, but instead she wound up just staring at her for a moment with knitted brows, before stretching forward to grasp Beca’s hand since she clearly was not going to take it herself.

Tugging her up from the seat, she curled her fingers around Beca’s, then began to lead her away from the booth so they could go grab that water she apparently needed. “Um, Bec, are you okay?” Chloe questioned with something of an uncharacteristically awkward chuckle. It was very unlike her, but the thought that she’d somehow broken Beca was kind of scary.

The tug helped Beca’s brain perform something of a hard restart. She swayed on her heels, knees wobbly and she reached with her other hand to grasp Chloe’s elbow to help steady herself. “Yeah. Yeah, totally. I’m great.” She puffed out a throaty chuckle, the flush in her cheeks seemingly semi-permanent at this point. 

Not sure she should let go of Chloe’s hand, she took a step toward the bar. That’s when she realized how… impactful Chloe’s lapdance had been. She managed to get it together enough where hopefully her continued shakiness wasn’t super noticeable. 

(For fuck’s sake, Beca. Get a grip.) 

If she was sober, Chloe would probably see that this was too far even for her. Less than sober, though, she only felt smug, mostly because Beca had pushed, and her reaction told her that she’d definitely delivered.

“It’s not that hot,” Chloe giggled, pulling back to straighten her body, and to this time relax her knees until she was sitting on Beca’s lap again. Her hand loosened it’s gentle grasp on her hair until she was able to pull it back, then began to straighten out her own curls with her fingers.

Finally climbing unsteadily back to her feet, she pulled down the skirt of her short dress from the way it’d ridden upward before, forcing herself not to think about that little whimper she was positive she’d heard during her dance—or the way it had sent a shiver through her body. “Do you really want water?” Chloe questioned with a tilted head. She stuck out her hand then, lips curving into a satisfied smile. “We can go get water, but then you have to dance with me.” She pouted. “I danced for you, so it’s only fair.”

Beca’s breathing continued in shorter, labored pants even after Chloe stopped moving. She was pretty sure she was having a heart attack or something, her pulse thundering in her ears and her skin flushed and somehow simultaneously hot and chilly. Tingly, too. 

It wasn’t like this was Chloe’s first ever lap dance. When the Tinder guys she’d meet found out what she did for a part-time job, they’d always insist on a demonstration, and Chloe would generally oblige. This was kind of…way better than that, though. Beca wasn’t some creepy guy, she was Beca Mitchell, and Chloe was very much aware of who she was doing this for—and also how weirdly intent she was on impressing her, though she was too drunk to really question that.

Shooting Beca a small smirk, Chloe only responded with a soft shake of her head, hands pulling back from Beca’s shoulders to instead grasp one onto the backrest behind her, while the other rose to sink her fingers through her ginger curls, head tipping back and chest pushing forward right in Beca’s view. Her hips continued their rolling motion all the while, before the hand in her hair moved to instead scrape her fingers through Beca’s straightened hair, until they were curling around the back of her neck, with Chloe grinding her body closer.

Considering Beca was basically goading her on, Chloe had no intention of holding back, so ducked her head to ghost her lips by Beca’s ear. “Is that enough for you, Mitchell?” she smirked, fingers slipping upward to grasp loosely onto the back of Beca’s hair. “Or do you want a little more?”

Beca inevitably lost the battle in her attempt to keep her gaze locked on Chloe’s eyes. It was near impossible, with her boobs literally right in front of her face. 

She just… didn’t know she’d ever find boobs, like--appealing?

She didn’t realize her breath hitched. She didn’t realize her fingers curled around the lip of the booth, squeezing the fabric with blunted black nails. She didn’t realize a whimper squeaked free--just barely, but definitely audible--when Chloe’s lips grazed her ear. Combined with her fingertips gripping the back of her neck, scalding her bare skin there… Beca’s nervous system short circuited. 

thesickestbeats·:

“Wait, what?” In Beca’s booze-addled brain, it took her a few extra beats to process Amy’s words. Her attention snapped back to Chloe, confusion crossing her expression (particularly when that lethal troublemaker grin stretched across Chloe’s face) until–

“Jesus, dude!” Glowsticks flying out of Beca’s hand, she gripped Chloe’s other hip as an honest to god giggle passed Beca Mitchell’s lips. Had she been sober, she would’ve turned beat red and shoved Chloe aside. As it was, though–she happened to be quite wasted. A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Do your worst, Beale. I’m uncrackable. Cool as a goddamn cucumber.” She hadn’t realized she was egging Chloe on until she already had. Oops?

“Oops,” Chloe giggled, watching the glowsticks drop to the floor, though she brought her not so sober gaze back up to Beca’s face then, smirk only intensifying with the feeling of Beca’s other hand gripping onto her waist. Chloe was an exotic dancer, this was totally her thing, so if Beca wasn’t refusing it, she wasn’t going to either. “Yeah?” she questioned, brow lifting briefly, before her arm moved back from around Beca’s neck for Chloe to press her hand to Beca’s shoulder, knees planting down onto the seat beside her thighs as she pushed her further into the backrest.

The beat of the music thrumming around them helped the way she moved, hips rocking forward into Beca’s, before she very deliberately rolled them backward with her drunken gaze on Beca’s face. Hands planting on Beca’s shoulders, Chloe repeated the same fluid motion, back arching to push her chest closer. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right, duh—smug expression, wink and all.

Uh. Holy shit? In her drunken state, Beca had conveniently forgotten Chloe’s exotic dancing skills--ones she’d witnessed first hand. She swallowed the sudden, massive lump in her throat.

She vaguely heard Amy’s voice reminding her of the “rules of lapdance” and how she wasn’t technically allowed to use her own hands or touch Chloe at all. 

Chloe feigned a look of surprise, mouth hanging open. “I do not have to be super drunk to tell you you’re my best friend,” she shot back, though her amused expression betrayed her (entirely non-threatening) words, even more so when the glowstick tapped to her nose and it wrinkled in reaction. “You might be right, though. I think I’m a liiiiiitle bit drunk,” she hovered her thumb and pointer close together, voice raising in pitch. “Just a little little bit.” If she even remembered this conversation in the morning, she’d totally reach out to Stacie about the classes, she’d probably enjoy them more than Beca had. “Fine, then I’m sitting on you,” she echoed, lifting her other arm to drape around Beca’s neck too, though she paused at the sound of a familiar voice approaching.

“Bhloe lap dance?” Amy questioned casually. While Chloe twisted her head to glance toward their other roommate, Amy only motioned toward Beca, “Proceed.”

Although she was probably joking—probably… it was Amy, after all—Chloe’s brows lifted and fell suggestively, before she shot Beca a mischievous grin. “I’m really good at them. I mean, you’ve seen me on a pole,” Chloe winked, grinding her hips playfully, and wondering if Beca would accept the in not so many words offer.

“Wait, what?” In Beca’s booze-addled brain, it took her a few extra beats to process Amy’s words. Her attention snapped back to Chloe, confusion crossing her expression (particularly when that lethal troublemaker grin stretched across Chloe’s face) until--