Sutton/Charlotte - Picnic Date (Patreon)

Here we are - a little canon piece from Sutton and Charlotte, as the poll decided!

Again - that poll denotes the order for which everything will be written, so next month will be Knowing the Score part 4, I believe!

The First Date

Charlotte had experienced more “did that really just happen” moments in her life as she had since meeting Sutton Spencer.

Which was, objectively, very amusing, considering the fact that Sutton was so… unassuming.

And by unassuming, Charlotte obviously meant in her personality, all the while wrapped up in a deliriously hot physical form.

… admittedly, that alone was a very disarming combination. At least, for her.

As she fixed her hair in the mirror in her hotel room, debating which jacket she should wear, she couldn’t help but marvel over it. Over Sutton.

Over what she’d done yesterday, at Oliver’s wedding, because of the feelings Sutton had inspired her with.

She had assumed the buzzing of her phone was to alert her of the car she’d ordered coming to pick her up, but she was wrong. It was her grandmother.

Her grandmother… who didn’t know what Charlotte’s plan had been yesterday. The only people who’d known of her plan had been Regan and then Katherine, via Regan’s assistance. In all honesty, Charlotte hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell her grandmother or Caleb or Dean about what she’d been planning to do.

Not only because she’d had mere days to pull it together and plead her case to gain access to the wedding, but – but she’d been fucking terrified.

Terrified of what she’d said in the interview. Terrified of what everyone who recognized her at the wedding would think when they saw her.

Terrified, most of all, of Sutton’s response.

A very new feeling for her. She’d never experienced the anxiety surrounding rejection.

“Hello, Grandmother,” she answered, “I’m afraid I don’t have much time to talk.”

“Yes, I imagine you’re quite busy in Boston right now,” her grandmother’s reply was dry.

Charlotte didn’t know why she was surprised at all, really. She knew who she was talking to. Still, “Who did you hear it from?”

She tried not to feel paranoid. After all, she’d known there were a handful of well-known politicians in attendance last night, and the line to her grandmother was not a long one. In fact, for several of the attendees, that line was a direct one.

“Multiple people,” her grandmother answered with a scoffing laugh. “Including someone who sent quite a nice photo of you and the Spencer girl–”

“Sutton,” she cut in, firmly.

“Yes, Sutton – dancing. I’ll send it to you, I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Nerves danced through her veins, landing in her stomach. “What are people saying?” She asked, unable to stop herself.

It didn’t really matter, because – it was done. She’d done it. She’d come out not only in an interview that would be very widespread, but she’d come out with Sutton, dancing at the wedding last night. And not dancing the way Sutton and Regan danced together, as in two female friends having a fun time.

They’d danced – not indecently, not nearly as much as Charlotte now yearned to do with Sutton at a club. After all, they were under the watchful eyes of Sutton’s entire family, and Charlotte was very much attempting to get on their good sides, every single one of the Spencers.

Even their slow dancing, though, had felt… intimate. In a way Charlotte would never have shared with a woman she’d danced with at a club, on any obscene scale. Where they’d been pressed so close to one another, breathing the same air, and it had felt very intimate.

They’d held hands.

They’d even kissed, right while they’d been at the reception. In full view of everyone.

Charlotte’s heart had been hammering so hard in her chest, she’d been slightly concerned that she was about to have a heart attack, but she’d done it.

So, logically, she knew it didn’t matter what had gotten back to her grandmother in the time between last night and this afternoon.

But she couldn’t simply shut down this part of her that needed to know.

“Mostly tittering about the fact that you’re with Sutton Spencer,” her grandmother informed her, with a dismissive tone.

Dismissive in the most relieving way possible, frankly. She said the words like they weren’t a big deal. Like oh, well. Like this was simply another conversation they were having, where her grandmother dismissed people’s comments she didn’t care about.

“Clara asked me if I knew,” Elizabeth continued, referencing a current senator from Virginia, who her grandmother had professionally guided in the beginning of her career. “As if I wouldn’t know about your sexuality and who you’re interested in.”

The nerves drawn so tightly through Charlotte’s entire being lessened slightly. “I suppose it’s a good thing you haven’t heard anything negative.” She only heard what she’d said once it left her mouth, and she rolled her eyes at herself. “Then again, I’m not sure who would be dumb enough to voice their thoughts to you if they weren’t positive.”

“My feelings exactly. But I think you and I both know that anyone I still keep in touch with aren’t those who would object to your sexual orientation.”

Also true.

They might not think it wise to come out, especially so young in her career, in a way that might hamstring her in the future, but they’d never have an issue with her sexuality in and of itself. Plenty would, but no one in her grandmother’s circle.

She took a breath, bracing herself, “And… you still mean what you said before my interview? That you’d be proud of me no matter what?”

“I don’t think I said no matter what,” Elizabeth corrected, and she wasn’t wrong.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, but heard the amusement in her grandmother’s tone.

“But if you’re asking whether or not I disapprove of you coming out? Then, yes, I stand by what I said. I want you to be happy, Charlotte. If being with… Sutton makes you happy, then that is what I want for you. Life is far too short to stand in your own way and far too long to be lonely.”

“Thank you.” Her voice came out in an unintentional whisper, but – but she’d avoided telling her grandmother about this for that reason, too. In the case that she wouldn’t support Charlotte in this, and coming here had already taken all of Charlotte’s courage. She couldn’t have another strike against her.

“I don’t need to hear all of the fanciful details, but I would like a rundown of your triumph. Not now; I’m sure you are quite… busy. But sometime this week.”

Charlotte felt like she was glowing inside. What an odd but certainly not unwelcome sensation.

“Ah, I’m not busy, in the way you’re implying, right now. But I am going to see Sutton, and leaving imminently, so – yes, we can catch up this week.”

She was likely going to need some guiding words from her grandmother when the interview came out.

“Huh. Not to pry – again, I truly don’t want the gritty details – but… you went to find her at a wedding to reconcile, and didn’t spend the night together? I know we’ve never really discussed your love life in-depth, but I expected a bit more from you. Where is the Thompson charm?”

Charlotte’s mouth fell open, a breathless laugh escaping her. Was she more amused or insulted? She couldn’t tell. “Grandmother!”

Elizabeth sniffed. “What?”

“For your information, we did spend the night together. And I do have the ‘Thompson charm.’” But she’d certainly never heard her grandmother say something like that.

For all her grandmother’s forthright attitude, Charlotte knew she could be very charming and persuasive when she needed to; it was the only way she’d made it so far in politics.

“She just had to go home this morning, because they were having a big celebration brunch as a family,” she explained.

Which sounded like a foreign concept to her, but Sutton had sounded as though it was totally normal, as someone who was obviously close to her family. She’d invited Charlotte to join, too, but… Charlotte needed to play her cards right when it came to the Spencers.

“I actually do need to leave for my date, though.”

Date.

The word sent a thrill through her, both nerves and exhilaration. She had a date with Sutton. A real one, one that was labeled with the official title and everything.

What a fucking ride she’d been on in the last few days.

***

She thought the Spencer house should seem different, today. It was an idle musing as she walked up the perfectly maintained private drive, after having been dropped off at the large gate.

First, because the only time she’d seen it had been at the New Year’s Eve party – nighttime, snowfall, many people milling about.

In contrast, it was late spring, the snow had melted, the trees were starting to blossom, and the sun was high in the sky, providing an almost eerily warm day for this early in the season.

But the Spencer house still exuded an air of warmth in a way her parents’ home didn’t, which she knew might come from the fact that she knew how Sutton had spoken of growing up here, the way she talked about her family. Then again, it might have to do with the fact that it wasn’t perfectly pristine, in the way her parents’ house was.

The grounds were clearly well-kept and sprawling, but they weren’t completely impersonal. There were cars parked in the driveway that circled up near the front of the house – her parents had always detested anyone parking in front of the house; there were designated areas for that.

There was a white lattice fence in the yard to her left that she hadn’t really noticed the last time she’d been here – given the nightfall of it all – but now she could see it was likely designated for their dogs. Especially as she recognized Grace, Sutton’s dog, bounding around with two others. Even their dogs looked happy to be together.

There was a skateboard and a bicycle haphazardly laying in front of the steps, which she maneuvered around –

“Oh, hey!”

And if Charlotte was someone who easily startled, she would have just now.

As it was, she managed to catch herself before responding outwardly, only clutching her hand tighter around the bouquet she held. She lifted her other hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating quickly, as she turned to face the voice.

Ethan. Sutton’s youngest sibling, who was… fourteen? She believed so, anyway.

She hadn’t talked to him last night before she and Sutton had left the wedding. She’d spoken to very few people other than Sutton, in fact, which was precisely how she’d wanted to spend the evening. Most evenings, really.

But especially after their reunion. All she wanted to do was bury herself in Sutton… literally and metaphorically.

“Hello,” she returned with a nod.

He gave her a wide smile, slightly crooked. His hair was definitely longer than she imagined Katherine would like – then again, perhaps she was projecting her own mother onto that thought. But it curled down over his eyes, and he shoved his hand back to brush it away. There was a smudge of… grease? On his hands, which she only realized when he offered one to her.

“I’m Ethan. I don’t think we were introduced before. Right? ‘Cuz I saw you at the New Year’s party – oh, wow my hands are dirty.” His gaze landed on his hands, his smile turning sheepish, as he lowered them and brushed them against his shirt, which internally made Charlotte wince. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have offered – I’m just trying to fix my – anyway. Are you Sutton’s girlfriend? No one confirmed it for me last night.”

What a whirlwind train of thought, and at the very end, it made her stomach flutter.

Sutton’s girlfriend.

Admittedly, not something they necessarily delved into right away last night, but, “I… am. Yes, I’m Sutton’s girlfriend.”

She assumed as much, anyway. She’d told Sutton she was in love with her. She’d come out in a very public interview.

Ethan nodded. “Cool.” He gestured to the flowers in her hand. “And those are for her? Sutton loves getting flowers. I picked a bouquet for her when she was going away for college and she cried.”

Her hand tightened slightly around the bouquet, having momentarily forgotten while waylaid. “Ah – yes, they’re for Sutton.”

Before Ethan could say anything else, the door to the house opened, and she heard Sutton’s voice before she turned to face her, “Charlotte! I’d been wondering where you were, since you’d texted that you were dropped off a couple of minutes ago.”

She turned to look at Sutton, and nearly swallowed her tongue.

In a white lace-knit top with a deep v-neck, tucked into a high-waisted skirt and thick tights to combat the early-spring chill, she looked every inch exactly the image that had taken up residence in Charlotte’s mind for the last month. A little preppy, a lot cute, and still sexy as hell, with her long legs on display and her red hair a striking vision against the white shirt.

Her heart fluttered skipped again, and Charlotte could weep from it.

Yes, she’d been with Sutton at the wedding, and yes, they’d spent the night together afterwards, reaffirming their reunion with a marathon of sex until they’d both passed out from exhaustion. But this – this every-day kind of moment – felt like its own magic.

Charlotte cleared her throat, catching herself staring when she noticed Sutton’s eyebrow arching up in gentle, amused question. “Yes, apologies, darling. I got caught up chatting with your brother.”

Ethan held his hands up. “Don’t worry, we didn’t shake.”

Sutton chuckled, before she started down the porch steps.

Absurdly, Charlotte felt like she was a character from a romance movie, watching her love walk down stairs toward her in slow-motion. Not that Sutton was walking in slow-motion, but she felt that way.

Sutton came to stand in front of her, her lips curved in a smile. “Are, um, are you ready?”

“For anything,” she breathed back.

For once in the time they’d known one another, she could really mean it.

***

“I’d been wondering why you hadn’t asked me to meet you out somewhere,” Charlotte commented, as she sat down on the thick, warm blanket Sutton had laid out for them.

They’d walked out into the woodsy grounds behind the Spencer home, and if she’d been with anyone but Sutton, Charlotte might have been concerned for her life. After all, they hadn’t been walking on a trail, and Sutton had been very deliberate where they’d been walking.

“I thought – well, I figured you’d prefer if we were together without so many other people around. So we could…” Sutton shifted her hand slightly where it rested on the blanket, her fingers stroking against Charlotte’s.

The touch made her shiver, even as she shook her head. “Sutton… in the gentlest reminder – I did come out.”

Well, the interview wasn’t wide yet, but it would be.

“I know. But I still thought you’d prefer something private.” Sutton’s voice was quiet, thoughtful, as she stared down at their hands. “I guess it’s all really new, and – kind of surreal, even after the last twenty-four hours.”

“Trust me, I understand that,” Charlotte agreed. “But it is real. And we can be seen together in public. Though, I do appreciate your diligence.”

Because Sutton had always thought about her and put her first, hadn’t she?

As if Sutton needed to double-down on Charlotte’s thoughts, she reached up and opened the legitimate picnic basket she’d carried with them when she’d lead Charlotte out here, and started to arrange a spread.

A beautiful charcuterie appeared in moments, and Sutton pulled out two wraps of parchment paper at the end, carefully placing them down as she informed Charlotte, “I made kathi rolls. Well, it’s my first time making them, so I hope they’re decent.”

Charlotte wasn’t sure there was anyone else on the planet who could possibly make her melt the way she was currently melting inside. “You made me Indian food.”

“Well, I tried out a recipe.”

“Sutton, I’ve had dozens of meals you’ve prepared at this point, and they’re all delicious. I know this will be, too.” She studied the brilliant smile on Sutton’s lips, looking both proud and bashful. “How did you have time to do this? Didn’t you have your family brunch?”

“Yes, but I made time. I wanted to make time for this. For you. For… for us,” her voice dropped to just above a whisper.

“I’m not going to tell you it doesn’t make me incredibly happy. But I am going to tell you that I would have been here whether you made us this picnic spread or not.”

Charlotte wanted to soak up every minute she could with Sutton, especially right now. In the liminal space between them getting back together and the election. Right now, when everything was still – relatively – uncomplicated.

“I also wanted to make sure I made something you’d like.” Sutton’s gaze returned to her, watching her closely. “I’m a little concerned about you.”

Charlotte arched her a look. “Concerned? About my… appearance?”

At least, that was what the look on Sutton’s face implied.

Sutton’s cheeks turned pink as she shook her head. “Not – not that you aren’t beautiful. You are. You always are, no matter what.”

“Yes, I do recall the time you saw me while I was sick.” How could Charlotte forget it? She’d never felt so cared for in her entire life. It had been the moment that the universe had really slammed the door on her ability to delude herself about the romantic nature of her feelings for Sutton.

But Sutton shook her head again. “And you were still beautiful then.”

Charlotte breathed out a scoff. “That, darling, is now I know you are truly head over heels for me. Because no, I wasn’t.”

Sutton didn’t back down, though. “You were. And that’s different than this. I mean… not at the wedding itself, necessarily. But last night I noticed – you were… you looked so exhausted. Just, I’m concerned, is all. Are you okay?”

Charlotte didn’t even have it in her to tease Sutton and tell her it wasn’t the best idea to tell the woman you’d spent the night with that she was concerned because of the way she looked. Because she understood what Sutton was saying.

She’d seen it in her own reflection for weeks.

A part of her wanted to tease Sutton and shrug it off, but a bigger part of her couldn’t. Not here and now, not while they were embarking on this, for real.

Now was the time for honesty. For vulnerability, however difficult Charlotte might find it.

“I’m okay now,” she answered, softly. “Admittedly, the interview going public is causing some internal strife. But I’m determined not to think about that for now.”

“We can talk about it,” Sutton prompted, her big, blue eyes so wide and soft and encouraging. “If you think it might help or even if you just want to get your thoughts out, we can talk about it.”

But Charlotte shook her head, releasing a deep breath. “No. Not right now,” she amended for clarification. “We can – and will – discuss it later this week. Just… for now, before I head back to New York, I want to be here with you and not think about what’s coming next.”

A first for Charlotte; she’d always been most concerned with what was coming next in her career. Like, by a wide margin. Nothing else had ever come close.

Sutton seemed to understand that, and the sides of her lips curved into a sweet, small smile. “All right. But, what did you mean you’re okay now?”

She could only stare back at Sutton. “What I meant was…” She trailed off, shaking her head as she tried to figure the best way to say this without sounding like a completely lovesick fool. But then she realized, there was no way around that. “Sutton, I hadn’t fared incredibly well, since our… break up.”

She tested the phrase on her lips, having not previously associated it to them. Because she’d done her best to force herself into believing they hadn’t really been together.

But Sutton had been correct in her assertions; what had happened that day in the café had, unequivocally, been a break-up.

Sutton’s lips parted slightly in a show of surprise, and incredulity slid through her veins.

“You can’t possibly be surprised to hear that. I came to your brother’s wedding to win you back! I made a sweeping declaration of love!”

“I know!” Sutton tossed her hands up, seemingly just as caught up as Charlotte was. “But I just… even though I believe every word you said last night, it’s still so crazy to wrap my mind around. I told you, I – I had to convince myself that I was wrong. That, like every other romantic interaction I’ve ever had, I read everything wrong.”

Charlotte detested that lurking self-doubt in Sutton, and she hated more than anything that she’d unwittingly contributed to it. “Why did you have to convince yourself of that?”

“Because I’d never have been able to get over you if I didn’t,” Sutton confessed, her voice low and a little raspy. “I obviously didn’t get over you, but I wouldn’t have even been able to think about it as a possibility. I had to believe that if you felt the way I felt – the way I feel – you wouldn’t have been able to walk away from it.”

They’d covered this already, Charlotte knew that.

But everything was still so fresh, and the aching in Sutton’s voice dug so deeply into her chest, pinching around her heart. “Well, I wasn’t able to walk away from it.”

“I know that now,” Sutton returned, gesturing between them, before she brought her hand up and toyed with the ends of her hair in a fidget that was so classically Sutton, it made Charlotte’s soul sing to see it. “But I was seeing your campaign ads everywhere, and you looked – perfect. Like I’d been a blip in your story, and you were charging right on forward.”

“The perfection was the best lie I’ve never told,” the words heatedly slipped from her lips. “Because I’ve felt… I’ve felt a whole spectrum of emotions in the last month, and they’ve all been horrible. Guilt over hurting you. Shame over choosing to be closeted over choosing you. This ache in my chest that reverberated through my entire body, that just would never go away.”

The confession made her cheeks burn and her heart pounded harder and faster and she almost wanted to cry, because she wasn’t feeling that ache for the first time in over a month, and it was the sweetest relief she’d ever known.

No, she didn’t almost cry, she realized. She was crying, and she hastily reached up to swipe the tears away.

“You’re right; I was exhausted. Because I couldn’t sleep well at night. I used to sleep like a baby, the second my head hit the pillow – the only exception being if I was focusing on something work-related. And every night for the last month, I’ve laid in my bed and my eyes have burned with exhaustion and I couldn’t sleep, and sometimes, I’d just… cry.” Her breath hitched in her throat in the most mortifying sound she’d ever made, but the words kept coming. “I haven’t been able to eat, because everything tastes like ash, and my stomach has felt like it’s on strike. I haven’t had the desire to spend time even with Caleb or Dean, or even, frankly, the energy.”

Charlotte sniffed, and roughly cleared her throat, managing to pull herself together. Mostly, at least. Because this wasn’t how she wanted to spend this time with Sutton today.

“Somehow, Sutton, you became the fixed point that I’ve started to orbit around, and without you, everything has been so… dark.” She managed to take in a shuddering inhale, swiping her hand over her eyes once more, as she finished, “I’ve tried to be perfect for my entire life, and I’ve never felt farther away from it than I have in your absence.”

Charlotte’s breath escaped her in a yelp – an undignified sound she’d never let anyone other than Sutton hear – as she found herself on her back.

Laid out underneath Sutton on the picnic blanket, and she didn’t have a chance to catch her breath as Sutton’s mouth was on hers.

Last night, they’d had hurried, passionate, heated sex, clothing being strewn all over Charlotte’s hotel room. And then they’d had sex slowly, exploring one another all over again, reverent.

This kiss felt similar to that.

First, heated and hungry. Sutton’s lips moving against hers in the most perfect contact, making her mouth tingle and her toes curl in pleasure. Her tongue stroked against Charlotte’s, and she moaned, long and low, into Sutton’s mouth. She felt Sutton’s hand slide down and grasp at the curve of her hip, and even through Charlotte’s sweater, the touch was branding her.

And she welcomed it, stroking her hand up and into Sutton’s hair, the silky strands sliding through her fingers.

Then Sutton’s kiss gentled, almost like her lips were stroking softly against Charlotte’s, and the contact left her panting. Needy and soft, all at once.

“I also wanted to take you out here so we could do this,” Sutton breathed against her, the words murmured into Charlotte’s mouth. “We can’t do this out at a restaurant or in a park.”

Sutton dragged the plush center of her bottom lip against the bow of Charlotte’s top lip, and the shudder that wracked through her body felt obscene.

Her hand tightened to a fist, holding Sutton close. Wanting to breathe her in with every inhale. “Have I ever told you that I adore your foresight?”

She could feel Sutton’s lips smile against her own. “It’s not one of the virtues you’ve extolled about, no.”

“I’m a fool. I’ll start immediately.”

“We have the time,” Sutton said after a moment’s hesitation.

Charlotte blinked her eyes open, finding that Sutton had done the same, and those big, blue eyes were looking at her in question, as if needing her to confirm that was true.

She slid her hand from Sutton’s hair down her back, her palm against the warmth of Sutton’s spine. “We have the time.”

Sutton kissed her again, before she spoke softly against Charlotte. “I feel the same way. These last several weeks have been the worst in my entire life. Nothing has felt right, and all I wanted to do was get away from it all.”

“And now, we’re having our first date,” Charlotte said, somewhat mystified by the reality of it all.

Sutton froze, then pulled back enough to really look at her. “First date?” She echoed. “Is this our first date?”

Charlotte pushed herself up so she wasn’t laying flat on her back while they talked. “I wouldn’t not. What would you call it?”

“I – well, it is,” Sutton agreed, a cute flush over her cheeks. “But… it’s also… not?”

Charlotte rolled that around, considering it. “Well, what would you typically do on your first dates?” She held a hand over her chest, “As you know, I’ve never officially been on one.”

“I am honored, you know. To be your first,” Sutton’s tone was somehow both loaded with innuendo and sweet as pie, and wasn’t that just so perfect?

“And I’m honored to have been yours,” she returned, and – in quite a role reversal – hers wasn’t salacious in the least.

She was honored. And she knew now, reaffirmed, that she’d have done anything to be this person for Sutton. She was fairly certain that a part of her would die inside – wither up, and die – if another woman got to experience what it was to be with Sutton the way she did.

Sutton ducked her head slightly, returning back to Charlotte’s question. “On a first date, you’d talk about general things. Like, your jobs–”

“I’d say we’re very familiar with that, yes.”

“And… family, home towns. Little anecdotes to help you get to know one another… admittedly, I’m obviously not an expert.”

“We do know all of this information about one another already,” Charlotte mused. “So perhaps this is both a first date and not.”

“Maybe our first date was both when we met up for coffee and today, in two different ways.”

Charlotte felt momentarily captivated by the way the wind blew and caught several strands of Sutton’s hair, and she couldn’t possibly stop herself from surging up to capture Sutton’s lips with hers again.

She pulled back just enough to mutter, “If this was a true first date, we wouldn’t be doing this before even having our meal, either.”

Sutton’s hand came up to clutch at her shoulder and she laughed, as Charlotte leaned in to kiss her again. Ravenous more for Sutton than the food – but she was very much looking forward to Sutton’s incredible cooking, too.

She’d never been on a picnic before. Or any kind of “date” – that she’d known was a date, anyway.

But there was no better place in the world than where she currently was, kissing Sutton on a picnic blanket. Maybe she was built for this sort of thing after all.

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