Chapter Text
So, this whole captaining thing? It really wasn’t Beca’s choice. She wanted Chloe to be leader of the Bellas once Aubrey was gone – and hadn’t Chloe failed Russian literature to do just that? Seriously, no one bought Chloe’s story about forgetting to turn in an essay on Chekov because she was too busy celebrating the Bellas’ win.
But Chloe had insisted that it was time for some new blood to take charge (whatever that meant), and Beca knew the only other volunteer would have been Amy. Which... well, Beca preferred not to think of what the Bellas would be if Amy was in charge.
She loves her, really – everyone loves Amy, it’s like, her thing – but her ideas were not what Beca would call ideal. Especially not now, when she’s been texting Beca all morning because they’ve been working on a mash-up of Katy Perry’s Roar and Wankelmut & Emma Louise’s My Head Is A Jungle, and Amy’s got it into her head that they should have monkeys with them while they dance.
Actual monkeys.
To which Beca had to agree that yes, it would definitely set the Bellas apart from their competition. But where would Beca even find monkeys, let alone someone to train them to follow an actual choreography? And did Amy even think about who would take care of the monkey poop? Because monkeys poop, Amy. It is an important thing to consider when suggesting they have live-animal-props included in their sets.
Anyway, Beca had been stuck with captaining duty for a few weeks now and it sucked a lot. It took all her free time and thank god that she didn’t have a boyfriend anymore, because between the Bellas and classes? Beca was going nuts.
And not the fun, I’m so excited about our next show nuts. The irritating, frustrating, everyone wants a piece of me nuts.
It was all Chloe’s fault, too. If she had agreed to be captain of the Bellas, then Beca wouldn’t have spent the better part of her morning discussing monkey poop.
So Beca really felt no guilt when she stormed into Chloe’s apartment that afternoon, despite Chloe’s “2 busy w/ books; see u @ rehearsal”. Because hey, when Beca asked to be left alone, she was still getting five texts a minute, courtesy of the Bellas, so... yeah.
If Beca had to deal with the crazies, then Chloe would have to deal with Beca.
Besides – her frustration flared up a bit as she heard Chloe’s voice coming from the kitchen – Chloe wasn’t even studying. She was talking with someone; on the phone, Beca guessed when she couldn’t hear the second half of the conversation.
“Hm-mm, very sore,” Chloe told someone on the other line. She didn’t sound half as cheerful as she usually was. “I’d like that, yes,” Chloe added in a low, strangely enticing voice.
Beca frowned – did Chloe have a new boyfriend already? But she hadn’t mentioned seeing anyone lately. In fact, she had even told her fellow Bellas that she was taking a break from boys and girls alike to focus on herself, and maybe wait for the right person instead of jumping into something new.
Not that Beca had memorised that whole conversation. Not that she replayed it in her mind sometimes, trying to decipher some secret meaning behind the words.
Not that Beca had been both relieved and disappointed at the idea that Chloe didn’t want to date anyone at the moment.
“It feels really good baby,” Chloe continued, her tone switching to sensuous.
Suddenly aware that she was effectively spying on Chloe (and her potential boyfriend or girlfriend that Beca really did not care about but already kind of hated), Beca guessed it was time to reveal her presence before things got (more) embarrassing.
She stepped into Chloe’s kitchen with a shy wave of the hand, finding Chloe sitting at her table with a cup of coffee and a crossword puzzle in front of her. There was nothing embarrassing about the scene, and yet Chloe’s eyes widened, as if startled.
But despite the obvious surprise, Chloe’s voice was sultry when she spoke again, “mmm yeah don’t stop – I love your hands baby they’re so strong.”
The black cellphone in Chloe’s hand wasn’t her usual iPhone, but some Android Beca had never seen before. Chloe blocked its microphone with one thumb, rising from her seat. “What the hell are you doing here?” she whispered, looking at Beca as if horrified. Before Beca could answer, Chloe’s eyes darted towards the floor as she bit her lower lip. “Oh yeah? Would you like to show me?” she teased over the phone.
Confused, Beca crossed her arms. In her pocket, her own cellphone was still vibrating from what were no doubt another set of texts from Amy – what if she had realised tigers would be better than monkeys?
Beca sighed, annoyed. “Could you hang up, Chlo?”
Not that she was jealous someone was getting more action than she had in months – well, that definitely didn’t help Beca’s mood, but it wasn’t about that. Nor was it about the fact that the someone in question was Chloe, and that Beca kind of had a thing for her that she had kind of thought of telling her about before the whole me-break, no-more-dating situation.
No, this was about the fact that, unrequited crush or not, it wasn’t very polite to continue having phone sex with someone while your friend needed to talk to you about the dangers of monkey poop. And possibly tigers.
“Like, could you hang up now?” Beca insisted.
Chloe ran a hand through her hair, obviously uncomfortable. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you?” her voice had turned even more seductive, almost erotic, and Beca rolled her eyes. What the actual fuck. “You know just what you’re doing to me.”
Stepping closer to Beca, Chloe moved the phone away from her ear, one index snaking its way into one of Beca’s belt loops, tugging gently. “I can’t hang up,” Chloe murmured in a rush, “it’s my job.”
Beca frowned. For starters, she didn’t even know that Chloe had a job – which kind of made sense, since she had her own apartment and everything. But that was a fucked up boss-employee relationship man, some weird, probably illegal stuff.
And then it dawned on her.
“Mmm yes take it off now,” Chloe nearly moaned, her face a mere inches away from Beca’s.
She was working for a sex line. Chloe was a phone sex operator.
Okay. That one, Beca needed time to process.
“I don’t care,” Chloe’s breathing had become ragged; “I need to feel you.”
Mouth turning dry, Beca’s cheeks burned all the way up to her ears. Her gut twisting both in jealousy and (weirdly but not surprisingly) arousal, she swallowed hard. Stunned, she remained immobile, feeling nothing but the racing of her heart and the solid, almost reassuring presence of the kitchen counter she was leaning on.
“Inside me, yes,” Chloe specified as she rolled her eyes, putting a hand over the phone, “do you want a glass of water or something?”
Beca blinked – the switch from hot-and-bothered Chloe to usual-Chloe giving her whiplash. She must have nodded, because Chloe started going through her cupboard, trying to find a clean glass.
“Oh baby, I like it when you take charge,” she encouraged the stranger on the line as she poured Beca a glass of water, the phone secured between her cheek and shoulder. Obviously amused at Beca’s unnatural stillness, Chloe winked at her before she offered her the glass.
“Should I...?” Beca pointed towards the living room, “because you...” she gestured towards Chloe, awkward.
“I don’t mind,” Chloe shrugged before she turned her attention back to the person on the other end of the call. “It’s so big,” she moaned, and as Beca’s cheeks flared up in embarrassment again, Chloe muted the microphone again. “Men,” she sighed.
A small laugh escaped Beca’s lips, quickly smothered by Chloe’s palm pressed against her mouth. With large blue eyes silently insisting for her to be quiet, Beca found it even harder not to laugh. Suddenly feeling a bit childish, she let her tongue peek out, wetting Chloe’s palm.
“Oh this feels so good,” Chloe whined over the phone even as she wiped her hand on her jeans, glaring at Beca with mischief. Something in the way she scrunched up her nose made Beca’s heart melt for a hot second.
With her back still pressed against the kitchen counter and Chloe standing so close, Beca barely dared to breathe – Chloe’s vanilla-scented shampoo mixed awfully well with the scent of freshly brewed coffee.
“Yes, like this,” Chloe whimpered, the faked lust coating Chloe’s words still enough to make Beca’s insides turn into lava. “I want you to fuck me harder.”
At the sheer crudeness, Beca blinked, as if waking up from a stupor. Her eyes found Chloe’s, whose cheeks were also starting to redden.
“I’ll, hm...” Beca whispered, embarrassed; “yeah. I’ll be...”
She pointed towards the living room before she nearly ran out of the kitchen, Chloe’s moans as a soundtrack to her escape. She dropped down on Chloe’s small couch and downed the cold water, almost hoping it was vodka. Even through the wall, she could still hear Chloe’s voice, the way she cried out in (phony, right?) almost orgasmic pleasure – no one sounded like that.
Right?
Beca reached for her headphones in her bag – all that moaning, seriously, no one was that loud, Jesus – and quickly turned her iPod on. Silently cursing slow intros, Beca still heard Chloe’s now constant flow of “oh my god, oh my god” and winced.
Knees folded against her chest, Beca turned up the volume, trying to ignore the weird sensations burning inside her chest. Mostly it wasn’t unlike having been stung by a bee – her entire skin was blazing hot, and she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, and she didn’t know what to do with her hands but knew she shouldn’t scratch that itch.
But it bothered her. A lot.
Almost as much as it always did when Chloe had a fling and they kissed in front of Beca like they didn’t know.
It was unsettling to think that she had no idea that Chloe was working for a sex line to pay rent. But more than that, way more than that, it troubled her that other people – people that weren’t Beca – had been privy to that side of Chloe.
Sure, it was fake. But it was still Chloe.
Her Chloe.
“Hey,” the culprit smiled, leaning against the doorframe.
Beca pushed her headphones off her ears, slightly relieved when she noticed Chloe had left the phone behind before joining her in the living room.
“I logged off,” Chloe promised.
Absently, Beca wondered why she felt so sad all of a sudden, and why Chloe seemed so oddly quiet. “Won’t that like, get you in trouble?”
Chloe shrugged. “My boss likes me,” she answered with a sigh, crossing the room to drop down on the couch beside Beca.
“Yeah, I bet he does,” Beca crossed her arms, unable to hide the bitterness of her tone.
Instead of getting angry with her, Chloe took in a deep breath. “Well, I’m not his top girl, if you must know,” she nudged Beca with her elbow until Beca un-stiffened a bit.
“Why’s that?” Beca forced herself to ask, her throat achingly tightened. “’Cause you look...” she averted her eyes, blinking. “I mean, you’re...” Beca twisted her headphones’ cord around her index; a nervous habit she couldn’t shake, lately. “You’re Chloe, you know,” she ended up shrugging.
Chloe laughed lightly, releasing a bit of the awkward tension between them. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she smiled warmly, turning around to face Beca. “But it’s not about the looks; it’s all about the voice.”
Beca nodded, her heart still beating so loud, she was grateful that she hadn’t actually turned her music off. At least Chloe’s scarily well-developed sense of hearing wouldn’t be able to pick up Beca’s crazy heartbeats. “Is that, um,” she felt her cheeks burning up at the reminder of the sultry voice she had never heard before; “is that why you picked that job?”
“I never thought about it that way before,” Chloe looked pensive for a moment, until she shook her head. “Really though, when I applied I thought it was customer service, but with like, a gigantic paycheck.”
“Customer service,” Beca repeated, lips curled up in distaste. “Gross.”
Chloe chuckled again, one arm snaking its way around Beca’s shoulder, bringing her closer. “Well when you say it like that,” she shook her head and winced, “it’s really gross, yeah.”
Silence fell on both of them, only disrupted by the low beats emerging from Beca’s headphones, the song unrecognisable.
“So it’s a money thing,” Beca bit her lower lip.
“It’s hard to afford this place without Bree,” Chloe sighed as she gazed at her living room, half-empty now that Aubrey had moved out, “but it’s home, you know?”
“And it’s not... I mean,” Beca hesitated, slightly annoyed at her own embarrassment, “like, no one knows it’s you, right?”
Chloe’s eyes brightened for a few seconds. “It’s totally safe Bec’,” she promised. As one thumb drew circles on Beca’s shoulder, Chloe’s second hand clasped around Beca’s, linking their fingers together.
“It’s weird though,” Beca breathed out, her eyes at their intertwined fingers. She’d never stop being amazed at how well they fit together.
But it was weird, Chloe’s job. Not prostitution really but it was still – you know; getting guys off. And girls? Did girls call? She wanted to ask but also didn’t want to know.
“It’s pretty soft,” Chloe squeezed Beca’s hand in reassurance. “The line’s not for weird kinks or anything, and if I don’t feel comfortable or safe I can always hang up.”
Beca nodded, her ears buzzing so loudly that she could barely focus on Chloe’s words. “But it is safe, right?”
Chloe let out a pleased hum before her head came to rest on Beca’s shoulder. “Totes.”
“Okay,” Beca agreed – as if it was her place to agree on anything. She felt weirded out not only by Chloe’s unusual job, but also by her own reaction to it. How strangely possessive she was feeling all of a sudden; like Chloe was, well. Hers, kind of.
But not in a creepy way, she promised herself. Or at least, she hoped so.
“Okay,” Chloe breathed out. She pulled apart for a second and placed a gentle kiss on the top of Beca’s head. “Hey, Beca?”
Beca hummed, stomach still twisted in knots.
“I, hm... I don’t sound like that,” Chloe admitted, her eyes boring into Beca’s cheek.
Frowning, Beca repressed the urge to look at Chloe. She was awfully close, and the living room was strangely hot, and Beca really wished they weren’t still talking about this. “What?” she asked anyway, trying to sound detached.
Chloe’s index ran over Beca’s curls, pushing the hair off her face. “I just, I want you to know that I don’t actually sound like that. That’s not like, me. At all.”
Beca swallowed hard as she realised what Chloe meant. “I wasn’t... dude,” Beca shook her head, her cheeks turning red again, “I didn’t think that.”
Chloe seemed disappointed at that, and Beca ridiculously felt responsible for it. “I mean, it was believable,” she continued in one breath, “A+ performance,” she offered a thumb’s up and a crooked smile.
“You’re such a nerd,” Chloe laughed and shook her head, as if Beca was hopeless.
“No seriously,” Beca joked again when Chloe moved apart slightly. “If I had been that dude I would’ve been like, really into you.”
“As opposed to now?” Chloe’s tongue ran over her lower lip absently while she leaned in, “where you’re not at all into me?”
Beca’s eyes flicked to Chloe’s lips, her heart skipping a beat. “Umm,” Beca hesitated. Before she could answer, her cellphone vibrated loudly with the arrival of a few new text messages.
“Ah, yes,” Beca cleared her throat, pulling out her phone from her pocket, “we’re in the middle of a Bella crisis.”
Chloe sighed, almost pouting as she stole Beca’s phone, unlocking it (seriously, how did she always manage to memorise Beca’s password?) and going through the latest conversations.
“Monkeys?” Chloe raised an eyebrow. “What the hell?”
Maybe Amy’s crazy ideas weren’t all bad after all – Beca made a mental note to thank her for the interruption later.
“Did she even think that we would have to feed them?” Chloe continued, shaking her head. “Oh my god,” she seemed to realise something.
Beca nodded, “monkey poop?”
“Monkey poop,” Chloe confirmed with a sigh. “And fleas.”
“Oh, good one,” Beca noted, “text her that before she rents a whole zoo.”
So what if Chloe’s job was pretty weird, Beca thought as she gazed at her, joyfully texting Amy from Beca’s phone. Captaining the Bellas was in itself a whole new level of strange, Beca decided as she settled on spending the rest of the afternoon on Chloe’s couch, making a list of the pros and cons of performing with livestock.
Beca was clearly surrounded with weirdness anyway; she might as well embrace it.