Just a night - Charlotte/Bron
Title: Just a Night
Author: giantessmess
Rating: MA
Pairing: Charlotte/Bron
Words: about 900
Summery/info: The effects of the infamous night. Series 5. Angst. I had to write a Bron fic.
It was just a one-night stand.
Beginnings were in that stupid bar near work. Drinks and flirting, awkward jokes neither of you found too funny. You woke up tangled in dirty sheets, smelling like another woman.
It ended when it started, and should have been yesterday’s news when you saw her at work. Shaking so much, you weren’t sure if you were tired or terrified. And Charlotte was just smiling and walking right up to you. In front of everyone.
“Are you ok, Bron?”
It was as if she was happy with what you’d both done.
It was meaningless. How many ways can you make your boyfriend jealous? A dramatic act, for a special audience. You clung to that explanation. Ben had been looking so cosy with Paula. They could have been surgically attached, it was that sickening.
Whatever other lies you told yourself, you’d known for some time that Charlotte was in love with you. And yes, let’s be honest, the knowledge had made you uncomfortable. What do you do when your female friend is attracted to you? Is it rude to feel strange? Was there something you should be doing? Ok, just be less friendly, right? No touching…or hugging. Maybe hands could brush, but not for too long.
But at some point, you’d decided you had no problem with Charlotte’s behaviour. It was flirting, wasn’t it? Whatever Charlotte did, you were only being friendly back. And if you flirted at all with her, it was by accident, like how you can accidentally stare at the sun, forgetting it causes cataracts.
***
It was just a one-night stand, and you’d had one-night stands before. Like the one with Andy, which started this whole mess with Ben in the first place. The guilt ate away at you and you confessed, because you didn’t know what else to do. Maybe being truthful was like throwing up, after a night of too much drinking. Out of the system, and the body can recover.
But Charlotte hadn’t meant anything. You weren’t a lesbian - you didn’t sleep with women, and you certainly didn't fall for them. There wasn’t a name for what you were, just Ben’s fake fiancée, stuck in self-induced limbo. Even though it started right in front of him, you didn’t feel like confessing to Ben about Charlotte. You didn’t want him to have it, even though it was common workplace dirt, the second Jared saw her steal out of your bedroom in the morning.
Kissing Charlotte happened like a reflex. The both of you, hunched at the bar. Ben was close enough to see, and to begin with he was all you could think about. But you were so dizzy, (how much had you drunk?) and Charlotte’s lips were so soft. Her tongue felt so amazing in your mouth, and maybe it was just the alcohol that made your body heat up in response. But you couldn’t bear the thought of pulling away.
You couldn’t believe you were leading Charlotte to your bedroom. You couldn’t stop laughing at how ridiculous this was.
“Beaumont, you nutter.”
“Oh yeah?” Charlotte snickered, leaning into you. Then she blinked a little, her voice slurred. “Bron... look, I’m not sure..”
You were walking with a slight tilt, or maybe the walls of your bedroom had gotten crooked, somehow. You slid next to her on your bed, unable to wipe the smile off your face.
“You girlie girl,” you teased, brushing a hair behind her ear. “What do you do? You girlie girls?” It baffled you, and a laugh escaped your mouth. “What do you do, hey?”
You hadn’t expected Charlotte to show you.
The drink hadn’t affected you so much that you didn’t gasp as she kissed you, or murmur nonsense words as she slowly pulled down your underwear. You weren’t so drunk that you weren’t shocked when your body reacted. Charlotte grinned, probably at your expression, before kissing your abdomen, grasping your thighs. And her mouth…her tongue, and her lips.
“Oh..shit, Charlotte…” you grasped at the sheets.
"You wanna know what else we do?" Charlotte lifted her head up, capturing your flustered lips. You weren’t so drunk that you didn’t kiss back, clumsily. Roughly, before kissing your way down her body.
“Christ...” Charlotte was almost wincing. Biting her lip. Then you couldn’t see her, you just felt her hands in your hair, her thighs tangled around you.
You woke up tasting Charlotte on your tongue.
***
It was just a one night stand. And when you pushed past her at work, you’d told her as much. It was a drunken mistake, a stupid stunt that made everything worse. You begged, like a pathetic cast-off until Ben forgave you. And when he did, it felt something like love.
Your wedding was the kind they regurgitate photos of, all over those magazines you hated. Everything matched and fitted with the cliché. Except for you and your lesbian lover. Minutes until the vows, and Charlotte treaded up to you, her face sombre.
“I love you.” An awkward pause. “I don’t want you to marry Ben.”
For a second you couldn’t breathe. And then Charlotte was laughing. Her face cracked, and she sniggered, as if this was candid camera. A bloody joke.
“Yeah right, Beaumont.” you forced a smile. All you could do was laugh, and try not to hear the hitch in her voice.
***
It was just a one night stand. But you weren’t sleeping very well now - in your new house, in the new town, with your new husband breathing beside you. You spent so many nights trying to figure out where you’d gone wrong. But in the end all you did was go around in circles, your thoughts always ending on Charlotte. And how right her body felt, beneath you.
Author: giantessmess
Rating: MA
Pairing: Charlotte/Bron
Words: about 900
Summery/info: The effects of the infamous night. Series 5. Angst. I had to write a Bron fic.
It was just a one-night stand.
Beginnings were in that stupid bar near work. Drinks and flirting, awkward jokes neither of you found too funny. You woke up tangled in dirty sheets, smelling like another woman.
It ended when it started, and should have been yesterday’s news when you saw her at work. Shaking so much, you weren’t sure if you were tired or terrified. And Charlotte was just smiling and walking right up to you. In front of everyone.
“Are you ok, Bron?”
It was as if she was happy with what you’d both done.
It was meaningless. How many ways can you make your boyfriend jealous? A dramatic act, for a special audience. You clung to that explanation. Ben had been looking so cosy with Paula. They could have been surgically attached, it was that sickening.
Whatever other lies you told yourself, you’d known for some time that Charlotte was in love with you. And yes, let’s be honest, the knowledge had made you uncomfortable. What do you do when your female friend is attracted to you? Is it rude to feel strange? Was there something you should be doing? Ok, just be less friendly, right? No touching…or hugging. Maybe hands could brush, but not for too long.
But at some point, you’d decided you had no problem with Charlotte’s behaviour. It was flirting, wasn’t it? Whatever Charlotte did, you were only being friendly back. And if you flirted at all with her, it was by accident, like how you can accidentally stare at the sun, forgetting it causes cataracts.
***
It was just a one-night stand, and you’d had one-night stands before. Like the one with Andy, which started this whole mess with Ben in the first place. The guilt ate away at you and you confessed, because you didn’t know what else to do. Maybe being truthful was like throwing up, after a night of too much drinking. Out of the system, and the body can recover.
But Charlotte hadn’t meant anything. You weren’t a lesbian - you didn’t sleep with women, and you certainly didn't fall for them. There wasn’t a name for what you were, just Ben’s fake fiancée, stuck in self-induced limbo. Even though it started right in front of him, you didn’t feel like confessing to Ben about Charlotte. You didn’t want him to have it, even though it was common workplace dirt, the second Jared saw her steal out of your bedroom in the morning.
Kissing Charlotte happened like a reflex. The both of you, hunched at the bar. Ben was close enough to see, and to begin with he was all you could think about. But you were so dizzy, (how much had you drunk?) and Charlotte’s lips were so soft. Her tongue felt so amazing in your mouth, and maybe it was just the alcohol that made your body heat up in response. But you couldn’t bear the thought of pulling away.
You couldn’t believe you were leading Charlotte to your bedroom. You couldn’t stop laughing at how ridiculous this was.
“Beaumont, you nutter.”
“Oh yeah?” Charlotte snickered, leaning into you. Then she blinked a little, her voice slurred. “Bron... look, I’m not sure..”
You were walking with a slight tilt, or maybe the walls of your bedroom had gotten crooked, somehow. You slid next to her on your bed, unable to wipe the smile off your face.
“You girlie girl,” you teased, brushing a hair behind her ear. “What do you do? You girlie girls?” It baffled you, and a laugh escaped your mouth. “What do you do, hey?”
You hadn’t expected Charlotte to show you.
The drink hadn’t affected you so much that you didn’t gasp as she kissed you, or murmur nonsense words as she slowly pulled down your underwear. You weren’t so drunk that you weren’t shocked when your body reacted. Charlotte grinned, probably at your expression, before kissing your abdomen, grasping your thighs. And her mouth…her tongue, and her lips.
“Oh..shit, Charlotte…” you grasped at the sheets.
"You wanna know what else we do?" Charlotte lifted her head up, capturing your flustered lips. You weren’t so drunk that you didn’t kiss back, clumsily. Roughly, before kissing your way down her body.
“Christ...” Charlotte was almost wincing. Biting her lip. Then you couldn’t see her, you just felt her hands in your hair, her thighs tangled around you.
You woke up tasting Charlotte on your tongue.
***
It was just a one night stand. And when you pushed past her at work, you’d told her as much. It was a drunken mistake, a stupid stunt that made everything worse. You begged, like a pathetic cast-off until Ben forgave you. And when he did, it felt something like love.
Your wedding was the kind they regurgitate photos of, all over those magazines you hated. Everything matched and fitted with the cliché. Except for you and your lesbian lover. Minutes until the vows, and Charlotte treaded up to you, her face sombre.
“I love you.” An awkward pause. “I don’t want you to marry Ben.”
For a second you couldn’t breathe. And then Charlotte was laughing. Her face cracked, and she sniggered, as if this was candid camera. A bloody joke.
“Yeah right, Beaumont.” you forced a smile. All you could do was laugh, and try not to hear the hitch in her voice.
***
It was just a one night stand. But you weren’t sleeping very well now - in your new house, in the new town, with your new husband breathing beside you. You spent so many nights trying to figure out where you’d gone wrong. But in the end all you did was go around in circles, your thoughts always ending on Charlotte. And how right her body felt, beneath you.