Chapter Text
Aside from daily, two hour rehearsals and tri-weekly hour-long cardio sets, the Bellas met every Sunday night for an hour and a half to discuss everything from costumes to set lists to gossip from last night’s Treble party that they wanted to set straight.
Well, in some Bellas’ cases, set “straight” might not be the best kind of wording.
And, while it seemed excessive at first, most of the time the Bellas found that these Sunday meetings stretched past the one and a half hour mark, blending seamlessly into 10 p.m. conversations that eerily resembled Bella bonding.
Chloe, of course, had a secret love of tricking the entire team to participate in Bella bonding without them knowing. Beca reminded her time and time again that everyone hanging out as friends and living in the same house wasn’t defined as Bella bonding. It was defined as being normal human beings and maintaining a basic sense of social interaction.
Whatever you called it, it was, technically, mandatory, and there was no one who enforced this rule more than Chloe - and, because Chloe felt it was important, Beca enforced it as well. Even though she tended to have much more important things to do. Like the homework she put off all weekend in favor of finishing a mix that wouldn’t see the light of day.
So, on this particular Sunday night, all the Bellas were gathered around the living room in their typical spots - Emily perched on the footrest where she’d keep a perfect posture most of the meeting, and Amy sitting on the loveseat behind her with Stacie sitting on the arm rest of it, legs crossed; Cynthia Rose squished into the corner of the couch, arms out-streched on the edges of the cushions, and Jessica sitting next to her with Ashley sitting on the ground at her feet, letting Jessica braid her hair; Flo sat on the other side, suspiciously eying Lilly the entire time, as she sat in the fetal position peeking out over the hills of her knees.
Only, the other love-seat, the one very clearly only big enough for one, was supposed to be filled by two people, practically sitting on each other’s laps. There was, normally, a blanket draped across them, and the Bellas had always spent the hours after each meeting placing bets on how, exactly, they fit themselves onto the seat - which limbs were intertwined with which under the blankets, and whether Beca’s sudden blush halfway through was the result of any rustling where the Bellas couldn’t quite see.
“I give them two more minutes, and then I’m out,” Cynthia Rose muttered, hugging a pillow close to her chest. Flo hummed in agreement, and Jessica and Ashley nodded, but Emily looked….uncertain.
“In class, we give them fifteen minutes,” she said nervously, “So let’s say if they don’t come in seven then–”
“We take a Bella-funded trip to Taco Bell Hell,” Amy said, “I like the way you think, Legacy.”
“I never said anything about Bella fund–”
“Six minutes,” Stacie interrupted, looking at her phone. “They’ve got six minutes.”
“Where did they go, anyway?” Flo asked.
“They have their grocery store run,” Jessica said, “But I swear I saw them pull into the driveway, like, twenty minutes ago.”
“The BA getaway is empty,” Amy said, “For the record.”
“And the fridge is void of any possible dinner options, so…”
“Sorry!”
The door flew open without a prelude - no jangling of the locks or twisting of the knob, but just what seemed be absolute breathlessness. Beca stood in it, face flushed, trying her best to tuck the button down she had on back into her pants. She threw a weak smile over to the girls, patting her hair down. “Sorry I’m late,” she said again. She swallowed thickly, scratching at her neck as she moved to her usual spot.
“Where the hell were you?”
“Yeah,” Cynthia Rose added, “You look like you just ran a marathon.”
“Uh, yeah, no,” Beca blushed. She reached up, scratching the back of her neck again, her eyes glazing over slightly as the redness spread from her neck up to her face. “I was busy. Doing. Stuff.”
At that moment, Chloe walked in, tripping over the slight incline that separated the porch from the door. She giggled when she fumbled a bit, rearranging the skirt she had on, which appeared to be slightly turned to its side. “Hi,” she said simply, her voice more wobbly than any of the girls had been used to. “I’m stuff.”
“Chloe!”
Though the Bellas were sure they’d seen the best of Beca’s blushing, the brunette had a wonderful tendency of topping herself on the daily. Today, of course, was no different, and if any of the Bellas were allowed their phones at the meeting, they would take out a camera, because it almost looked as though she’d applied a snapchat filter to make her cheeks that tomato red.
If Beca could see anything other than the blinding white light of embarrassment and adrenaline, she would find that half the Bellas looked at them with disgusted faces, while the other half (mainly Stacie, though) eyed them up and down like a frat boy learning that one of their brothers got laid.
“I would high five you, Red,” Amy said, “But I don’t trust the power of portable Purell.”
“Jesus Christ,” Beca muttered. She pulled her feet up to hug them to her chest while Chloe just giggled biting her lip breathlessly and skipping up behind the chair. She reached her arms out to Beca, running them over her shoulders and leaning in.
“I was just being honest,” she said, her tone so mockingly innocent that it made Beca almost nauseous.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Beca muttered as Chloe hopped over the couch and slid in next to Beca. Despite her iciness, she leaned into Chloe when the redhead held her arms out.
“That’s fine, you said it all in the car.”
“The car?” Cynthia Rose said from behind her pillow. “Bro, that’s a shared vehicle.”
“We were careful,” Chloe said, blinking. “Don’t worry. It’s not the first time it’s been….utilized.”
Flo groaned, throwing her head back against the cushion, and Beca slapped Chloe lightly in the abdomen with the back of her hand. Surprised, Chloe shrugged.
“I’m not talking about us!” she said defensively, “I mean, like, I am. But it’s not like we’re the only ones to fog up the windows.”
“Chloe!” Beca said threw gritted teeth. “Stop. Talking.”
“Alright, alright,” Chloe said, taking a deep breath. She flattened her hand against her stomach, smoothing down her shirt. “What’s the first order of business.”
Amy raised her hand, looking around the room. “Seat covers for the car?”
“I was thinking more like the massive hickey on Beca’s neck,” Stacie said. She scooted further back on the armrest, folding her legs in a criss-cross and eying them.
“And the mismatched buttons of her shirt,” Flo muttered under breath.
“Not on the agenda,” Beca said. She reached around her neck, tugging her hair down around it and hugging her legs closer to her chest to hide the button-down incident.
Chloe, being the person that she was, just chuckled beside Beca and squeezed her pincher fingers in the tendons of her shoulders, causing Beca to squirm. “She’s right, you know,” she said finally, looking around at the other girls and sitting up straighter. She reached down to her Bella folder, handing out the agendas she’d printed out. “We can save that conversation for the five minute break at the end of the hour.”