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The first time Beca cuddles into Chloe’s side, they both react to it viscerally. Beca, for her part, doesn’t immediately register just what she’s doing by leaning into Chloe’s side during an impromptu brainstorm-turned-movie night. Chloe, for her part, immediately stiffens and feels her ears grow hot because proximity to Beca has been, well. Hard lately. Difficult. Grappling with the intensity of her feelings for her very taken friend. Very much verging on best friend.
Beca senses the way Chloe stiffens, which is really something that Chloe will forever kick herself over, and quickly sits straight up, yawning and stretching as if that was all she had been doing.
It kind of sticks in Chloe’s throat, the assurances and kind words that she’s so used to doling out for Beca and to Beca. Physical intimacy is just. It’s a lot. Especially for Chloe because it’s really one of the most important things. She just never expects it from Beca. Not like this, at least. Not now.
So Chloe doesn’t say anything and their night continues.
*
The second time it happens, it’s kind of impromptu as well. Near the holidays of Chloe’s third consecutive super senior year, they both end up opting to stay on campus. Beca manages to get into Amy’s stash of international alcohol and they throw themselves a pity Thanksgiving in Chloe’s spacious (and lonely) room. It feels even more empty given that the house is devoid of Bellas and song.
It’s much chillier now at the end of November, nearing into December. The low 20s and high 10s of the temperature around them means that Chloe gets to wear all her favourite cardigans and stolen hoodies. Beca seems to just put on more layers - more layered shirts, jackets, some sweaters. Chloe makes a note to get Beca into a holiday sweater as soon as possible.
“What are you looking at?” Beca grumbles, returning from where she’s done tinkering with her record player.
“I think we should get the Bellas matching ugly Christmas sweaters this year. I can’t believe we haven’t done it yet.”
Beca’s mouth twitches like she isn’t sure if she wants to instinctively insult Chloe’s fashion choices or immediately give in. A common theme these days as Chloe unlocks more and more of Beca’s incredibly soft side. She sighs loudly.
Chloe stifles a grin. “Matching, Bec.”
“You know I don’t do that. Not even. Well. Whatever. It’s kind of lame.”
Chloe holds her tongue. Right. Jesse. She’s sure Jesse has long come up with ideas to having every conceivable kind of matching couple’s outfit. The most Chloe has ever seen Beca wear that has a remote Jesse influence is a red sweater that kind of looks like a Treble sweater, but Chloe hasn’t seen it since the very first time she saw Beca wear it.
“Maybe,” Beca finally concedes, climbing onto the bed. “Pick a good movie and we’ll see.”
Chloe grins and presses against Beca’s side immediately, pulling her laptop from her. “Christmas movie,” she declares.
“It’s November,” Beca complains.
Chloe wins anyway and she doesn’t even recall watching the movie because Beca ends up falling asleep halfway through. Chloe kind of just watches it happen because there is something incredibly relaxing and beautiful about watching the way Beca’s brow relaxes all at once and her features smooth out making her look years younger. Like all the tension and stress eases from her the more sleepy she becomes.
This time, when Beca leans into her side, Chloe’s ready. It hadn’t really happened again since that first time, but God, the way Beca just fits into her side. The way Beca kind of curls a hand loosely over her forearm with the gentlest of tugs. Chloe slowly pulls her arm away, this time putting it around Beca’s shoulders. The action itself makes a huge lump stick in her throat—a lump that very much feels like her heart as it threatens to leave her body imminently.
Beca inhales, a short little sound, and Chloe stops. “Sorry,” she whispers immediately. “I shouldn't—”
“It’s okay,” Beca whispers back, voice muted and muffled. “S'comfy.”
Friends do this. It’s okay.
*
Chloe thinks Beca looks beautiful always, but especially now.
“You can see the bump,” Beca says absentmindedly, lifting her shirt in front of the mirror. Their trip to the doctor was exciting. The knowledge that this is really happening for them; finally happening for them—Chloe could cry.
“You’re showing,” Chloe echoes, standing from the bed. She wants to reach out and touch Beca, but she isn’t even sure where to start.
“I didn’t even realize until the doctor pointed it out today.”
“Neither did I,” Chloe admits quietly, wondering if it makes her a bad wife. Not noticing that the love of her life had been undergoing some serious bodily changes to begin welcoming the newest member of their family into their lives. She finally moves to stand behind Beca, hooking her chin over her shoulder, smiling when their eyes catch in the mirror. “You look so pretty.”
“You have to say that, we’re married. What happens when I look like a whale?”
“You’ll always look beautiful to me,” Chloe declares, kissing Beca’s cheek repeatedly when Beca frowns at Chloe’s response.
Beca moves Chloe’s hand to rest more firmly against her belly. “What if you can’t hold me like this later?”
Chloe hums. “Nothing would stop me from cuddling with you.”
“But what if your arms can’t even come around me,” Beca complains, a hint of a whine seeping into her voice. “And then you grow tired of trying to hug a balloon.”
“You’ll have to figure out a way to pry me off you over these next months. Trust me.” Chloe makes sure to kiss a spot on Beca’s neck that she knows drives her crazy. “I’m going to be all over you. In more ways than one.” Another kiss. She catches the blush on Beca’s cheeks. “I always knew you liked my cuddles.”
Beca sniffs haughtily. “And?”
She hasn’t quite brought it up to Beca, even after all their years together, but it still delights Chloe to no end that Beca chose this with her. That Beca chooses her every day. That Beca trusted her all those years ago, even when they hadn’t really been anything.
“And nothing,” Chloe finally says. “I just love you the way you are.”
*
In all their years together, Chloe can’t recall Beca ever choosing to cuddle with somebody over her. She hadn’t even really contemplated it because it had quickly become their thing.
She knows that Beca doesn’t do it with just anybody. In fact, Chloe’s about 99% sure that Beca has never cuddled or snuggled with anybody else in her life.
But this—
Chloe doesn’t even say anything at first because her heart catches in her throat. Beca’s cheek rests ever so slightly on top of their son’s fuzzy little head, her eyes half-closed, but still alert enough to ensure she doesn’t loosen her hold or drop him. She hums ever so slightly, her movements slight and gentle as to not wake him.
Chloe kind of doesn’t want to say anything—wants to let this night continue just like this. The sheer tranquillity and safety around them because of all the love she feels for her wife and her son—it’s irreplaceable.
Beca’s eyes lift then, catching hers from where she stands in the doorway. “C'mere,” Beca murmurs, brow furrowing when Chloe hovers by the doorway. “Bed feels empty without you.”
Chloe doesn’t hesitate then, only wanting to enjoy a mid-evening snuggle with her family knowing there must be many more to come.