You’re My Best Friend (And I Love You)

~1100 words :: Huge :: Becca/Chloe :: 12/18/10
Becca has had best friends and she’s had crushes, but she’s never had a crush on her best friend before. Not a real crush anyway, the kind where she can’t stop thinking about doing all those things she’s only read (and written) about.

“Have you ever…” Becca trails off. She can’t even tell if Chloe is awake anymore. They’ve been talking for what feels like hours. In the cabin, no one talks too much after lights out. The beds are too far apart, and if you’re loud enough for one person to hear, you’re loud enough for everyone to hear. And besides, Poppy’s there.

Here in the tent, though, just the two of them in the dark, this feels like a sleepover. Becca hasn’t had a sleepover since she was ten, and never with a girl she… Well, never with someone like Chloe. She has had best friends and she’s had crushes, but she’s never had a crush on her best friend before. Not a real crush anyway, the kind where she can’t stop thinking about doing all those things she’s only read (and written) about.

She’s just decided Chloe must be asleep when she hears a rustle and Chloe says, “Have I ever what?”

“Oh.” Becca’s heart is racing, thumping against her chest like she’s been running laps instead of lying here snuggled up in her sleeping bag. “Oh, um, just…have you ever,” she swallows, “kissed. Anyone?”

There’s another rustle as Chloe scoots closer. “Like…a boy, you mean?”


Chloe is so close her sleeping bag is right up against Becca’s. She’s so close that if they were in a bed, under the covers instead of in two separate sleeping bags, they would be touching. The thought is not helping Becca’s heartrate any.

“Not really?” Chloe whispers almost in Becca’s ear. “I mean, no, not with a boy, but…”

“But?” Becca is going to die. She is going to have a heart attack and die before she has ever kissed anyone. Before she’s finished her novel. The thought of The Mists of K’oralin going unpublished is almost enough to make her cry.

It’s not enough to stop her heart from beating so fast.

Chloe doesn’t say anything for a long time. Or what feels like a long time. She’s even quieter when she finally says, “When I was ten my best friend Leah and I practiced kissing a couple times. Just, just pressing our lips together, not anything…not like french kissing.”

Becca hates Leah a little. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” she says. “Not even for practice.”

“You should,” Chloe breathes, closer than before. Her lips are on Becca’s before Becca even realizes what’s happening. And then they’re gone just as fast. “Like that.”

“Like this?” Becca leans in, presses her lips to Chloe’s and kisses her and instead of pulling away afterwards, she kisses her again, and again. Chloe shifts, her lips parting slightly. Her breath is hot and when Becca kisses her again, she can taste toothpaste a little.

“Yeah,” Chloe whispers, her lips still right up against Becca’s. “Like that.”

She opens her mouth a little more after that, and Becca does, too. They kiss over and over, little tiny kisses that turn into longer ones until finally Chloe’s lips are open wide enough for Becca to flick her tongue in, just enough to feel her teeth, the tip of her tongue.

Becca’s written so many kisses and read about even more. All those fics she’s not supposed to read, but her journal profile says she’s twenty-two, not fifteen, and nobody cares, really, as long as she keeps up the pretense. She knows what to do in theory.

Still, it’s harder than they made it sound, or more awkward anyway. But Chloe is making these little noises, quiet little moans that make Becca feel all hot in a way that’s not just from her sleeping bag, so she must be doing something right.

She tugs at the zipper and hears Chloe doing the same, and they scoot closer under the overlapping sleeping bags until they really are touching, Chloe’s soft tummy and breasts pressed against Becca’s. She’s so warm and this time when they kiss, Becca has one arm around her, her fingers tangling in Chloe’s hair.

Chloe’s hand is resting on Becca’s waist, her thumb rubbing in circles. Her tongue is in Becca’s mouth and it feels weird, but good. Really good. Better than Becca ever imagined, and she’s imagined a lot.

This isn’t like in fics or her fantasies. It’s not perfect. She’s not perfect. But Chloe’s tongue is sliding against hers and Chloe’s breasts are rubbing against her nipples and Chloe’s hand is slowly rucking up her nightshirt and now Becca is the one trying not to make too much noise.

Chloe’s hand is warm and a little sweaty and it’s on Becca’s breast for exactly one nanosecond before Chloe pulls away.

“We should,” Chloe whispers. “We should get some sleep.”

Chloe scoots back into her own sleeping bag and zips it back up. There’s a lot of rustling, like maybe she’s turning around. It’s too dark in the tent to see anything, but Becca can picture the smooth curve of Chloe’s back to her, just the top of her head sticking out of the sleeping bag.

Becca’s own sleeping bag is still open. Her nightshirt is still pushed up. Her skin is cold now that Chloe’s not pressed up against her, but it’s not the cold that has her nipples so hard. She can feel Chloe’s hand still, the way her palm curved to fit her breast.

She puts her hand in the same spot, brushes her thumb over her nipple the same way. She shivers. It’s not the same.

She pulls down her nightshirt and zips up her sleeping bag. Her panties are wet, which isn’t sexy or anything, just kind of uncomfortable, and they’ll be clammy later. She sighs and wriggles around until her back is to Chloe.

Chloe is so quiet she can’t be asleep. Becca tries to be quiet, too, when she reaches down and hitches up her nightshirt again. She bites her lip and works one hand into her panties, her clit hard and slippery under her fingers. She tries to pretend it’s Chloe touching her, but all she can think about is Chloe right there behind her.

If this were a fic, it would be exciting. The girl would discover a kink for exhibitionism and have the most mind-blowing orgasm while still managing to keep totally quiet. But Becca has no such luck. She’s too tense, just going through the motions when it doesn’t even feel good anymore.

She pulls her hand out of her panties and wipes her fingers on her nightshirt and rolls over onto her back. “Are you asleep?” she whispers. There’s no answer, so she tries again a little louder. “Chloe?”


Maybe she really is asleep. She has to be. She’s asleep and soon Becca will be asleep and in the morning everything will be back to normal.

It has to be.