Chapter Text
“Paging Nurse Price!” Rachel calls out from the living room, and even to this day Chloe has to roll her eyes playfully at the moniker.
Pushing herself away from her sketching desk, Chloe saunters towards her girlfriend, watching as she produces a familiar yellow case and packet of sanitary wipes from beside the couch; her mouth goes dry as Rachel unbuttons her jeans and shimmies out of them, kicking them out from under her feet.
She’s filled out impressively since coming out as trans to Chloe — which introduced the awkwardly sincere part of her life where Chloe spent hours upon hours researching trans healthcare, trans history, trans activism, trans…well, she discovered her attraction to Rachel wouldn’t be going away any time soon. Rachel’s always been a remarkable woman, and that never changed even after learning that wasn’t the case for her entire life, but she can’t help but let a small, proud smile grace her lips as she watches her, sees how far she’s come in her transition, loves how Rachel regards her body with the same pride and excitement.
She steps forward and leans against the back of the couch as Rachel turns around to meet her gaze. “That’s Dr. Price to you, missy,” she pretends to grumble, though the bubbly smile it earns from Rachel keeps her from fronting that annoyance for longer than a second.
“My apologies, Dr. Price,” Rachel giggles with a wink. “I was hoping you could help a girl out with her bi-weekly injection.”
“Bi-weekly?” Chloe asks sarcastically. “You’re bi every day!”
Rachel giggles again, fuller this time, as Chloe makes her way to the other side of the couch. She takes a seat on the coffee table she got specially-made to sustain her weight (despite years living together, the couch might very well be the only normal seat they have in the entire apartment, though not for a lack of options). Rachel lounges casually before her, gently applying the alcohol wipe to the injection spot within a circle of stars, one of many tattoos she’s adorned herself with since her and Chloe moved in together.
They’ve both changed, actually. Chloe bristles with glee every time she spots herself in a reflection, catching how much she looks like herself : a thick septum piercing dangles from her nose, with more piercings to match in obvious and intimate places, and wildly rich blue hair falls in short strands to one side, the other shorn down to a buzz. Her mom might’ve had a fit, seeing her like this, but she’d much rather focus on the warmth that fills her chest when Rachel loops her arms around her abdomen and calls her stud , or runs the tips of her delicate fingers along the short bristles of hair close to her ear, just barely catching the silver rings and dangling chains so close by.
(Not to mention how much fun it is when Rachel makes very good use of the small silver bars usually hidden behind a barely B-cup. Joyce is definitely not gonna find out about those.)
Chloe tips the point of the needle towards the small hole at the top of the estrogen jar ( “Transition fluid!” is what she’d insisted on calling it one day, right to Rachel’s face; thankfully, Rachel acquiesced because — her words — “It’s better than calling it girl juice.”) . She’s mindful of the amount she pulls into the syringe, embodying the same focus she used to see Rachel perform with. She’s been helping Rachel with her shots for nearly a year now, but she never allows herself to be careless about her work, especially not while Rachel’s watching her with such a patient expression.
Finally, Chloe brings the filled syringe up between them and leans forward. “Wanna be a good girl and close your eyes for me?”
Rachel immediately blushes and shifts in her seat, allowing Chloe enough room to line the syringe up with the spot on her thigh while trying so blatantly not to let Chloe know how much those words always turn her on. Chloe snickers to herself as she carefully pulls herself closer, waiting until Rachel’s looking away to press the needle into her skin.
To her credit, Rachel hardly winces, though Chloe knows she’ll have to work quick to cover the small piercing if she wants Rachel not to freak out. Of all the things that may have changed since Rachel first came out to her, at least she can count on her squeamishness to remain consistent.
Chloe rests a tender hand against Rachel’s thigh, offering her at least a bit of comfort as she pulls the needle away and deftly moves to replace it with a band-aid. “Good girl. Now, I don’t have any suckers for my patient,” Chloe begins coyly as she presses the adhesive against her skin, “but maybe she’d let me suck hers instead?”
That earns her a sigh and an eyeroll, playful as they may be, which both invite Chloe to chuckle in self-satisfaction at her wordplay.
“You are incorrigible, Chloe Price,” Rachel says through her sigh, extending a hand between them to run her thumb along the short bristles of her side shave.
“Big words for such a scaredy cat.”
A quick, idle tug at one of the longer hairs atop her head has Chloe wincing and, to her embarrassment, stifling a moan. Rachel looks on devilishly as Chloe’s eyes flutter back open. “Remind me why I let you help with my injections?”
“Because the last time you did it without me, I had to get you a glass of ice water and fan you off.”
Rachel’s lips purse thoughtfully. “True. You do have your uses, other than being a menace.”
“Bitch, I’m hella useful!” Chloe bites back with a shameless pride that tugs her lips into a lopsided smirk.
“And hella handsome,” Rachel offers in return, guiding Chloe closer as she leans forward.
Chloe all but melts into Rachel’s kiss, bringing herself to the edge of the coffee table to be able to take more of her in. Hormones have made her lips full and supple, while a fastidious skincare routine has kept her skin soft to the touch as Chloe raises her fingers to brush along the pulse of Rachel’s neck. Affection blossoms in her chest, alongside an arousal that aches between her thighs, and every instinct of hers that warns her to pull away before Rachel does is shot down by every added second of being kissed.
It really is hard to believe that, after all that’s changed, she’s a year into a relationship that’s showing no signs of leaving her in the dust. Years ago — before running away to Santa Monica with Rachel, before watching her graduate from Blackwell with honours, before ever letting her feelings about Rachel slip — she might not have had the security to kiss Rachel so deeply, so openly, and for so long . Nursing a splintering heart under the weight of affections kept at arm’s length would have been on her mind just as much as leaning into those affections, letting that vulnerable heart hope for just a bit more before it could break.
And it almost had, a few times; a small scare and burst of frustration almost a year ago led to Chloe finally braving the change she’d been so scared of having thrown back at her for all these years, and though she was ready to put the pieces of herself back together after a fight, she was even more ready to kiss Rachel, love Rachel, and — ultimately — be with Rachel.
Still, it’s hard not to feel stuck in a dream, so distant from who they both used to be, and with even more change on the horizon, Chloe can’t help the melancholy that settles deep in her gut.
Rachel is the first to pull away, with Chloe smiling as she follows for a second, shorter kiss. “You know, you have one month to come up with a new horrible joke before that sucker one becomes obsolete.”
Chloe bites her lip as she gazes at Rachel through half-lidded eyes. “We have toys.”
“Chloe,” Rachel warns teasingly.
Chloe shakes her head and smirks. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” She rises slightly and carefully falls against the sofa, bracing herself against the back to avoid brushing Rachel’s thigh before the same, tattooed arm falls around Rachel’s shoulders. “Can’t really make the same kinda jokes about your new parts, though.”
“Sure you can,” Rachel remarks cleverly. “You’re just too much of a pussy to.”
Chloe blows a raspberry. “C-minus, at best.”
“Dick.”
“For one month only.”
This earns a genuine laugh from both of them as Rachel falls into Chloe’s relaxed hold, her warm breath tickling the exposed skin of her collarbone. Chle reckons she could never get tired of that musical sound, nor how soft Rachel feels against her chest, heat settling between them. Some part of her enjoys the feeling of being bigger, the protective girlfriend keeping her partner safe in her arms, and it’s a part of her that Rachel unknowingly indulges every time she seeks her embrace.
Simmering in a golden glow from the sunset outside their window, a comfortable warmth blanketing them, Chloe lays her cheek against the crown of Rachel’s head, inhaling the honeydew aroma of her shampoo as she begins to speak.
“I’ve told you I’m proud of you, right?”
For a moment, Rachel doesn’t respond, instead peering up at Chloe with glistening eyes and a pleading pout. “Yeah?”
“Hella proud,” Chloe affirms, pitching close to press a tender kiss to Rachel’s forehead; when she pulls away, Rachel is beaming so beautifully, eyelashes batting away unshed tears.
“You know,” Rachel starts, “you’ve come a long way, too, stud.”
Chloe’s cheeks flush at the nickname, which she tries and fails to hide by turning her attention away from Rachel’s coy smirk. “You think so? Or are you just saying that?”
Rachel shifts closer, brushing her knee against Chloe’s; even through the thick denim of her jeans, the sensation sends her heart racing and invites a warm prickle beneath her skin.
“Of course,” Rachel remarks matter-of-factly, leaning forward and resting her chin in her palm, “not without a little bit of assistance from the love of your life — who, I can only presume, puts the Mona Lisa to shame with her exceptional attractiveness.”
Chloe snorts; though she may be one to talk, given she’s allergic to ever making an earnest statement without it equally reeking of sarcasm, Rachel can never say anything of substance without it being a declaration or expecting the applause of a raptly-attentive audience. Not that she minds, of course, nor that she wouldn’t happily applaud every one of Rachel’s dramatic statements.
It just so happens to be one thing in a long list of things Rachel has done to capture Chloe’s heart, not that it was ever going to be a challenge.
She wears that same heart on her left sleeve, bright red ink containing names and words and images she holds dear. It’s that heart that Rachel moves to brush gentle fingers against, inviting a small shudder from Chloe as she drags the tips up her arm, across her shoulder, and finally coming to rest against her jaw; the chain drooping down from two piercings along the shell of her ear moulds itself to the rise of Rachel’s knuckle, and somehow only serves to prompt Chloe closer.
Rachel idly thumbs the metal against her skin as she speaks, her voice smooth and calm. “When I first met you, you reeked of day-old sweat and dressed like you hadn’t gone shopping since you first discovered Hurley.”
Chloe quirks an eyebrow at her and winces. “What a completely normal way to compliment your girlfriend.”
Rachel giggles — a honey-smooth sound, melodic and harmonious all at once, and that laugh has only grown more beautiful in the years since meeting her — and tilts her head, allowing the setting sun outside to ring the hazel of her eyes with warm, crackling fire. “What I’m trying to say is you’d gone through so much. I heard the way people spoke about you at school, even when your back wasn’t turned. The world was fucking awful to you. I’m glad I found you when I did.”
“Because there wouldn’t be a me to find otherwise if you hadn’t,” Chloe speaks the unspoken part of that remark; it’s hardly the first time she’s mentioned the cavalier approach to mortality she’d taken in her youth to Rachel, and for the first few years it always evoked a guilty flicker to Rachel’s gaze that she’d worried would warn her away from her, would scare her into seeking out less damaged goods.
But now, Rachel regards her with resolute pride and affection, and Chloe regrets ever considering robbing her of this life they share.
“You look so much like you, Chloe Price,” Rachel continues, gently grazing her thumb across the rise of Chloe’s cheek.
“Who else am I supposed to look like?” Chloe teases, even though she can’t stop herself from shivering under Rachel’s caress.
“Well, you used to look like the poster child for troubled teens.”
“And now?”
Rachel’s lips pull back into a gentle smile, and when she blinks the small sparks in her gaze shift and sparkle. Chloe’s too captivated to react when Rachel pitches close, resting the tip of her nose against Chloe’s cheek as she places her lips on hers in a kiss that — somehow, despite Rachel’s current lack of clothing — remains chaste.
Chloe smiles against her lips as her hands find purchase on Rachel’s thighs, just barely missing the tender spot of the recent injection. When Rachel pulls away, Chloe finds it so hard not to follow, but opens her eyes regardless to catch Rachel gazing at her with more affection than she knows what to do with.
No matter how much Rachel changes — how much either of them change, really — it’s still crazy just how speechless her girlfriend can make her with a single kiss.
Feeling like she should say something, Chloe’s about to mutter “holy shit”, except Rachel speaks before she gets the chance.
“We brought that hot stud of a punk out, kicking and screaming. And now she’s here, all grown up and blushing about being called ‘sir’ and ‘stud’, and every time I look at her, all I can think of is how much you suit being you.” Rachel presses another quick kiss to Chloe’s lips, this time invoking a small giggle on her own part, before she adds in a hushed tone, “Making it this far with you, being able to wake up every morning to see the badass babe my scrawny, dorky girlfriend has become is the second best part of loving you.”
Dumbstruck, Chloe grins dopily, running her fingers back and forth along Rachel’s bare thighs. “And what’s the best part?”
Rachel shrugs casually. “You give great head.”
A big burst of laughter bellows from Chloe’s throat as her face flushes crimson. “You pervert!”
Rachel smirks in response, scoffing lightly. “It’s true! Best head in town.”
“It better be,” Chloe retorts sharply, then leans back into an easy chuckle. “Are you gonna miss it?”
“Hell no,” Rachel assures her. “If anything, I bet it’ll be ten times better.”
“So not everything changes, huh?” Chloe remarks, though the sentiment feels weighted in her chest. After everything they’ve been through together, she can’t help but think that it’s nice to rely on old memories and familiar comforts with so much unknown ahead of them.
Rachel’s always charged headfirst into that great unknown, and while Chloe has always been more comfortable in the present, it’s easy to get swept up alongside her. There’s so much Chloe may have never considered getting involved in — so many ways she might never have changed — had it not been for Rachel sweeping her off her feet and putting her trust in her over and over again.
And, so far, all that trust has so wonderfully paid off.
Eventually, Chloe helps Rachel back into her clothes (though she takes good advantage of her time without them to follow through on what she’s supposedly so excellent at), and — as it always does — the day marches on.
Small glances towards their bedroom, where Rachel’s home studio is set up, carry her through the rest of her working hours, occasionally wondering idly what she’s working on or who’s going to up their subscription tier this time around. When dinnertime approaches Chloe sets herself to work preparing another favourite of theirs, which earns her a hug from behind, a kiss to the neck, and a nearly burnt dish after the momentary distraction from Rachel.
To call it mundane, she thinks, would be an insult to both of them; after all, there’s nothing more punk rock than fucking off from your stifling home town with the girl of your dreams and making it big in California. Still, even after years of wondering when the trust Rachel placed in her would finally fizzle, dreading the day she would do something to chase her away, it’s hard not to remark upon how normal all of this affection is, even after every change they’ve gone through together.
Rachel trusts her — enough to regularly help her shoot estrogen into her thigh — and Chloe trusts Rachel. Every day that they each make that choice, they step further and further into an unknowable but ultimately exciting future together.
And Chloe, for one, can’t wait to see what changes come for them next.