Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s been a few weeks since that night with Robin in my car and I can’t stop thinking about it. I know that what we I did was horrible but it felt so right in the moment. I don’t know if Jonathan will ever forgive me or if I can even forgive myself, I’m just so confused about everything and - 

“Nancy! Dinner’s ready!” Karen called out.

Nancy sighed, putting her pen down and her head in her hands. Her notebook glared daggers into her from where it sat stark open on her desk. She let the pages flutter for a moment before shutting them completely and stashing it into her bottom drawer, hidden away from any prying eyes.

“Coming, just a sec!”

She walked down the stairs, smoothing her skirt in the process, a pleasant smell from the kitchen wafting towards her. It took her back to spaghetti dinners as a kid, the innocent joy of everything. The warmth of her mother’s gaze. Stealing a meatball from her baby brother as he whined to their parents.

Which brought her back to the current moment, Will and Mike sitting together at the table and chatting animatedly about things she had no interest in. They’d been inseparable since Will returned from California.

A tightness formed in her chest at the thought. It only served to remind her of how her and Jonathan weren’t like that. The distance between them was cavernous, stretching and stretching until it eventually snapped that fateful day she had Robin Buckley beneath her.

Nancy took a seat opposite them, watching as Will gasped in fake annoyance when Mike took a finger dipped in spaghetti sauce and smeared his cheek with it. “What are you - hey! Quit it!”

Mike just laughed. It didn’t take long for Will to follow.

It pulled something in Nancy, a sweetness, maybe, the kind that could only be aroused by love. Being around it or being in it. Either option was terrifying, naturally, so she elected to ignore the feeling at all costs.

Dinner passed without any disruptions - no underworld demons or vengeful Gods to speak of - and Nancy found herself being lulled into a false sense of happiness, drinking and laughing with her family. Because all that other shit that happened…it wouldn’t go away. It just wouldn’t.

And now she was forced to carry the impossible weight of her guilt, her shame, the knowledge of what she’d done a mere 16 days prior (not that she was counting or anything. That would be weird). 

The sole question continuously playing on a loop inside her head was, when did it really start? How long have I been feeling this way about her? About myself? 

She wanted to explain it all away that easily, so she could better compartmentalize it. Say it started there, that day at the mall when she ordered a strawberry ice cream cone and accidentally spilled some on herself, so of course Robin had to go and help clean her up…

But it didn’t start anywhere. That was the issue. It just… was. Constant and ever-present.

They weren’t friends before that night. Not exactly, anyway. Sure, they’d worked together on a few group projects for biology, but nothing beyond that. And Nancy was fine with it, because there was no reason not to be. Robin was cute in a twitchy, familiar sort of way, and she smelled nice and would always have plenty of pencils to lend Nancy whenever she asked. That was the extent of Nancy’s knowledge (and interest) of her.

But Nancy had also heard…rumors. About Robin’s sexuality. The kind that kept her up at night in fits of disordered curiosity, breath hitting her pillow as she lay there with her fingers trapped between her thighs. 

Nothing about it was normal. And it wasn’t even about Robin specifically, more so the lucid, dream-like idea of being with another girl. Of sharing body parts and language and wants and needs. Communicating only with the gentle ease of their bodies, the slide of their slightly-chapped mouths and brown cropped hair and -

Okay. So maybe it was about Robin. 

Excusing herself from the table, Nancy paid her goodbyes to everybody before heading back upstairs, splashing some water on her face, and grabbing her notebook and pen. 

and I think I might want to do it again. Or, I might need to. I don’t know. But I’m going to talk to Robin about it tomorrow. She deserves that. 

Nancy found Robin after school hanging out in her usual secluded spot near the Hellfire club’s outside entrance, kicking at the pebbles gathered around her feet. She seemed uncharacteristically muted, like a wounded puppy with its tail down.

As Nancy approached her, Robin tensed up. Her eyes narrowed at the intrusion, then widened again once she realized who it was. She swallowed. 

“ Hey, stranger,” Nancy said, hating how it came out of her mouth. Stranger? 

Robin was at a loss. She managed to fumble through a response, landing on a simple “hi” following a series of mostly-incoherent ramblings.

“Um, how have you been?” Nancy asked. 

She shrugged, “Oh, you know. Just trudging along,” then added, half-smiling but with a saddened inflection in her voice that tugged at Nancy’s heart strings, “I, um, I didn’t know if you were gonna talk to me again. I mean, you kinda left me hanging there.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. Things were just so…so much, you know? And I had to,” Nancy cleared her throat, “um, figure stuff out. Or something.”

“Or something,” Robin repeated.

The tension swirling between them was funny, somehow, because Nancy had no idea how to behave around Robin and Robin certainly had no idea how to behave around Nancy despite them knowing each other more intimately than they ever had before.

Her life had been a whirlwind of emotions ever since. And it didn’t help that it was all compounded by threats of world destruction from Vecna, from her tenuous college acceptances and estrangement from Jonathan, and whatever else was going on with her brother, Will and Eleven. 

Nancy stepped closer. She couldn’t help it. Robin’s lips were trembling slightly, and they looked so, so kissable, and she was ruined. It was all ruined.

“I’m a virgin,” Robin blurted out suddenly, blushing, “Or, I was one. Before. I don’t know. That night was sort of the first time I got close to someone like that.”

“Robin…”

From where she was standing, she could just barely make out the freckles dotting Robin’s right cheek. They looked so adorable. Nancy puffed out a breath, overcome with something she could not name.

“Look, I really, really enjoyed being with you, Nance, and obviously I think you’re lovely and amazing and everything but I - I can’t do this. You have a boyfriend and that’s like,” Robin gulped, and Nancy watched as her throat bobbed, “I can’t get in the way of that, any more than I already have.”

The words stung, though not half as much as the gnawing guilt that resurfaced because of them. And Nancy knew that ultimately, she was the reason, that she had no one to blame but herself. Still, she was wholly unprepared to face the consequences that came with it. To face the loss. Of Jonathan, of Robin, of herself.

What was she doing? This was all wrong, coming here like this… 

Robin seemed to take note of Nancy’s prolonged silence and shook her head to herself, eyes casting down to her shoes. Hands shoved in her pockets. 

The sight upset Nancy, and she fought with herself momentarily before carefully placing a hand on Robin’s shoulder, “Hey. You haven’t…you didn’t do anything wrong. Okay? This is my shit and I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise. And I shouldn’t have left the way I did, but I don’t regret it. I know I’m…technically I’m still with Jonathan but like, we’re not really together. Fuck, that sounds shitty when I say it out loud.”

“No, it’s, you're good.”

Nancy smiled, a sincere thing. “It's good to see you.”

She left the “after” unspoken, figuring Robin would probably catch on. Even though she hadn't been the kindest to her while the actual after had happened.

If there's anything Nancy did regret about that night, it was that. How she'd run away all cowardly at the first sign of something real, something genuine. Something so potent that it unlocked a whole new world of feeling. It terrified her, truthfully, in more ways than one.

Risking another glance at Nancy, eyes brimming with dredged-up hope, Robin asked, “So what now?”

“I like you,” Nancy confessed, surprised by her own honesty, “and like, I don’t even know what that means, any of it, but I think that, you know, I might be open to finding out. If you’ll let me.”

“If I - um, yes. Yes. I would like that also.”

Robin cringed at how awkward the words felt coming out of her mouth, slanted and uncomfortable. But Nancy didn’t notice, or at least pretended not to, just nodded and squeezed her arm. It jostled something in her - even the simplest touches felt like fire.  

“Maybe we can, I dunno, meet somewhere soon? When I’ve sorted some things out?”

“That sounds nice,” Robin said, before clarifying, “Not like nice nice but just nice. Like cool. Shit, I said nice way too many times didn’t I? And now I just did it again. Great. I’ll just…yeah.”

Just as Robin was about to walk away, Nancy stopped her, seizing her arm, “Wait, Robin,” and kissed Robin’s cheek, letting it linger there. 

“Just…something to tide you over.”

Nancy thought at length about her interaction with Robin earlier that day. And it wasn’t even about what was said, or the circumstances behind what was said, but rather the overlying sentiment that Robin was incredibly fucking endearing. That her heart felt full. 

If she didn’t let herself spiral about it, Nancy could almost be convinced that this was no different from any other crush. Just a fleeting romance, fuzzy and warm. Daydreaming in class about kissing behind bleachers. Skipping class to actually do so. A boy and a girl, together, without a care in the world.

Except it was different. And Robin wasn’t a boy. 

Mike knocked on her door then, three raps to the white wood. It was already cracked open ajar and Nancy could see the silhouette of his face peeking through the gap. She wondered what he wanted, and how odd it was that this was his second time interrupting her thoughts about Robin in the span of two days.

“Yeah?” Nancy said, an invitation.  

He carefully walked in as though he were investigating a crime scene, making sure to not leave fingerprints anywhere that could be tampering with evidence, or announcing that he was there at all. 

They’d always had a sort of strained relationship, much of which Nancy attributed to their age gap, but lately they'd been growing closer. She didn't know exactly why, but figured it was probably a mix of their trauma bonding courtesy of the Starcourt incident, and the inexplicable thread of sameness she felt whenever she'd catch Mike lingering his gaze on Will for too long. 

It made her feel hopeful, if only for a moment, that she wasn't alone.

Standing awkwardly in front of her, Mike did that shifty thing with his jaw, a nervous tic he’d picked up sometime in the last couple months.

“Mike, what is this about?”

“It’s not about anything. I just wanted to come and check on you. See how you were doing.”

Nancy didn’t look convinced. 

Mike sighed, taking a seat next to Nancy on her bed and placing his hands on his pants, “Okay, so maybe I did have some slight ulterior motives. But I promise I do want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m good. I’m -”

“How are things with Jonathan?” he asked suddenly, an uncharacteristic flightiness in his voice.

Nancy tensed up. Why was Mike asking about Jonathan? 

“Um, we’re - we’re fine, but I don’t really think that’s any of your business. Seriously, what is this?”

She didn’t feel like giving him another lecture on respecting people’s privacy (even though it was definitely overdue), but if this was starting to turn into an intervention of sorts then measures had to be taken.

“I’m sorry, it’s just. Will was telling me about him and how like, ever since they got back from California, he’s been really bummed that you haven’t reached out or anything. He’s worried, is all. Said that you seemed, like, weirdly distant,” Mike said, scratching the back of his neck, “...which I also noticed.”

Nancy took a gulp of air, anxiety spreading through her. Was it possible that Jonathan knew? That he found out about her and Robin somehow, about what they did?

She stayed quiet, trying to gauge Mike’s level of perception. He hadn’t seemed any different from his usual self since the Byers and El came back (well, apart from the barely-noticeable brightening of his expression; the spring in his step) and there was absolutely no way that Jonathan or Will-by-proxy had told him anything. Still…Nancy couldn’t figure out for the life of her why Mike was doing this.

“Did he mention someone else?” Nancy risked asking. Her palms were clammy.

Mike shook his head on instinct, then paused, growing curious at the display in front of him. It wasn’t like Nancy to look so deer-caught-in-headlights - she was normally much more composed. Maybe it was just a girl thing? He filed it away for information to be used later.

“Oh. Is there…?”

“No!” Nancy said quickly. Too quickly. “No. There’s no one. I just wanted to make sure that he didn’t think there was. Because there isn’t.”

“Okay. Right.”

Mike wasn’t sure if he believed her. But he had to give Will something, so he pressed on.

“So, just to be clear, you’re ignoring Jonathan for undisclosed reasons.”

Nancy scoffed, searching for one of her pillows to hit her brother with, “I’m not ignoring him. Just…I have some stuff going on right now, okay? Private, personal stuff that doesn’t concern anyone but me.”

It was at least partially true, even if Nancy couldn’t reveal the fact that she actually was *technically* ignoring him. But Mike didn’t need to know that.

“I just thought we could talk about it. I mean, we’re friends. If there’s something you wanna get off your chest…,” he trailed off, a vaguely hopeful yet conspiratory tone lining his words. 

“Mike, no. I can’t - it's not that simple. I’m -”

Nancy felt her eyes begin to water and her throat close up, and so she quickly turned Mike away. She wanted to tell him, craved it even, wanted to be able to be open and honest with all the important people in her life - but that was easier said than done, of course, muddled by the ink of hatred spilling out all over Hawkins. 

She still vividly remembered how they treated Will. Heard hushes from Mike’s room on a stormy day in September 83’, the little boy breaking down as he recounted all the things the other kids at school made fun of him for, the things his dad called him, “queer” and “fag” and “fairy” and everything else under the sun. Mike had comforted him, told him it was just some stupid stuff people say when they don’t know what they’re talking about. That it wasn’t…that it wasn’t true.

It cut her to think about. And even if she had her own suspicions about Mike and the ambiguity of their friendship, it wasn’t enough to justify possibly coming out to him. She loved her brother, in spite of (or even because of) his annoying habits and faces and loudness. God, she loved him.

If only love could be enough.

Chapter Text

One, two, three days went by. Nancy kept her head down in the halls, during class, letting the noise pass through her like she was some hologram, a phantom presence in the world around her.

She spent a lot of that time staring at Robin Buckley. They weren’t on speaking terms necessarily, but Robin would wave shyly at her whenever she caught her eye and leave little hints about Nancy’s offer on Tuesday.

Robin was a pocket of light. She made Nancy feel like…like she was floating. Could achieve anything, reach as far as she wanted to go. And that was dangerous.

Because it was bad enough that she’d somehow fallen for a girl, but it was worse that there was this creeping, encroaching feeling that she never had before - not with Steve, not with Jonathan, not with any boy - and that there was no chance of it happening in the future.

On the second day, Nancy received a paper note in her locker that simply read:

hi

thinking about you

wanna meet up? sorry if not

sorry

It wasn’t signed, and Nancy could tell that Robin had tried her hardest to make the handwriting as nondescript as possible. It broke her heart. 

She thought for a long while about that extra “sorry” at the end, scrawled in and then crossed out over again. It was like Robin was shameful but then upset about being ashamed, and too hesitant to reveal any of it for fear of ridicule or judgment.

Steve would never leave that sorry. Jonathan wouldn’t, either, or at least not the second one. 

But Nancy supposed it was just the order of things, as cruel and unfair as that may be. Always at the mercy of what society deemed proper, what the make-up of a woman was; the imposition of male desire on human sexuality.

God, she sounded like one of those feminist novels in the back of the library, sitting collecting dust until some confused, frustrated girl finally checked them out (and if Nancy was referring to herself with that statement, well, then so be it.)

There had been such a raging internal conflict during the year that she’d dated Steve. She’d never felt safer, but she’d also never felt less like herself. Life can be funny that way sometimes.

Nancy sighed, lost in thought, and tapped her pencil against the cafeteria table. She was currently drafting up an explanation (apology) for Jonathan, and she knew that it was probably cowardly to write him a letter instead of just speaking face-to-face but at this point it was all she could bring herself to do. Seeing him in person, his downtrodden face with dark circles under his eyes from exhaustion or drugs or whatever else he’d gotten himself buried in; it just might break her.

So far all she’d managed to write down was some vague excuse as to why she had barely spoken to him in a month (not counting all that time spent long-distance) that treacherously toed the line between loss and apathy.

Jonathan, 

I’m really sorry I haven’t been around. It’s been hard getting back to regular life after everything with Vecna. That’s not an excuse but I… 

This was useless. She crumpled up the paper and stuffed it in her backpack.

A loud blaring noise emitted from the vending machine then, startling her. She craned her neck to get a good look and found Lucas and Dustin shaking it and arguing over the “code”, which, of course, just meant the correct hit method to getting the maximum amount of snacks.

In the process of turning back around she locked eyes with Robin, who was perched on a swivel chair with her legs swinging off. She was alone. 

Nancy was conflicted on whether to get up and approach her. She’d been quietly mapping out what she might say to Robin since the note appeared in her locker, although none of it was particularly… appropriate for this context (or for most, to be honest). 

After fighting with herself for a moment, Nancy walked over to her. “Robin. Hey.”

“Hey,” Robin echoed.

“I got your note yesterday.”

“And?”

“Um, I - yes. I’d like that. And I have been thinking about you too, so.”

Robin smiled at that, but then her face dropped like she had just remembered something. She picked at the skin of her middle finger. 

There was a dejection in her expression, a resignation. A ghostliness. Nancy wanted to kiss it away.

“Nance, I shouldn’t have…you’re still…I mean, unless you broke up in the last couple days,” Robin said the last part with a dry laugh, trying to keep things light, but it was doused with underlying longing. 

“We’re not -,” Nancy sputtered, ignoring the question hidden within Robin’s statement, “this won’t be like the car. It's just like, hanging out. No big deal.”

Robin nodded. Her face grew hot at the mention of that night and she squeezed her juice box, a dribble of apple juice making its way down her thumb. God, why had I never noticed how long her fingers were? 

“Right,” Robin said, voice scratchy, moving to grab a napkin, “that would, um, yeah. When?”

“Tonight? I have to study for my history test on Monday, which, now that I’m saying it out loud makes it sound a little silly because it’s only Friday and I could just do it on the weekend or something, and that’s not the entire reason but it’s, um. Sorry.”

Nancy scrunched her nose, embarrassed. She never would’ve guessed that she would be the one to ramble in front of her crush like that.

Crush. What a funny word to describe whatever was going on between them.

“I’ll be there. To hang out. Or, to - to study. ‘Cause that’s what we’re doing.”

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

Nancy didn't know why she said it. Shouldn’t have said it. But Robin just smiled, a tint to her cheeks as she reached out to brush their fingers together. 

The doorbell rang at 6:00 on the dot. Nancy had spent the better part of the last hour pacing in her bedroom, making sure her outfit and makeup looked nice (to which Mike asked if she was going on a date and Nancy promptly shut the door in his face). It wasn’t like she was nervous or anything; though the way her gut twisted in anticipation suggested otherwise.

When she opened the door, Robin did a little curtsy. Her hair looked soft to the touch and she wore a light feathered jacket with a bunch of pins on it that were probably stolen from Family Video.

“You look nice,” Nancy commented, hoping it came off casual but knowing it probably didn’t.

Robin thanked her and returned the compliment. It all felt so…domestic. 

She was just about to follow Nancy up to her room when Mike surfaced from the depths of the basement to get some water out of the fridge, and bumped into her. He gave her an awkward teenage boy smile-and-nod.

“Robin, right? From the video store?”

“Yep,” she replied, popping the p, “the one and only.”

“Hey, do you guys have the new Mad Max yet?” he asked in excitement. Nancy had overheard him talking about the movie with Max when it first came out, asking whether she'd drawn inspiration from the name while creating her arcade alter-ego.

And she'd laughed at him, hard. "Of course I did, bozo."

The two shared a brief exchange before Robin resumed her trip, taking the stairs one-and-a-half at a time and tripping (and nearly falling) on the fifth one. 

It was weird seeing them interact. It was like her two worlds were colliding, the covers ripped off of both of them. And she could no longer deny either; that this was who she was at home, in the comforts of her own mind, but it was also who she was elsewhere, with friends and lovers and the vast wasteland in-between. 

Maybe this was the beginning of the rest of their lives, Nancy thought. Maybe now was the time to finally begin confronting truths about themselves, to stop hiding behind the excuse of safety. Of familiarity. 

When Robin got to her room, she immediately began fawning over the various trinkets, the poster of Prince above her nightstand. Nancy remarked that she seemed excited and Robin smiled gently, playing with the stuffed animal she'd picked up from the floor.

"Yeah, 'cause it's you."

Nancy bristled, "Don't - Robin, you can't just say things like that."

Robin plopped down onto the bed, shuffling over where Nancy lay as she sorted through her backpack. "Why not? I like knowing things about you."

God, this girl will be the death of me.

They didn’t get much studying done. For the first half hour, Robin would quiz Nancy using her flashcards, hiding her face in them and making an incorrect buzzer sound whenever she got a question wrong. 

Inevitably, it reminded her of how it was with Steve. Where he was boisterous and eager, Robin was shyer, sweeter. And unlike Steve, she seemed just as content to lie in bed and discuss the rise and fall of King Napoleon as she would’ve been doing…more strenuous activities. Nancy hummed. The thought gave her an idea.

Reaching out to touch Robin’s waist, she rubbed circles just above her hip and plucked at the fabric of her downy shirt, and Robin groaned, burying her head into Nancy’s pillow.

“You know I want to. But I can’t. I wanna,” she swallowed, “I wanna be respectful of your relationship and your time. I wanna be good.”

“You’re so sweet,” Nancy breathed out. It was instinctual almost, the words crawling out of her throat before she even got the chance to approve of them. 

Robin blushed.

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I mean like, any other guy wouldn’t care about any of that. My feelings and stuff. They’d just…get on with it.”

“I’m not a guy,” Robin said, looking at Nancy.

“I know.”

“…and I did ‘get on with it.’”

There was a hunger in her eyes, a burning, even as she turned her body ever so slightly away. Nancy couldn’t hide the way her breath hitched at the movement - in loss, maybe, like Robin had just slipped from her fingers - and then she realized that she already had.

Nancy scooted closer to her, half-lying down, and let her own eyes linger on Robin’s lips. She knew this was a horrible idea, could feel the sense of dread pool in her stomach, but she leaned in anyway.

“Nance,” Robin warned, lips parted.

Their breaths mingled. Nancy kissed the corner of her mouth first, then kissed her properly. They both made a little whiny sound at the contact. Mouths sinfully open.

The kiss was cruel, nothing like the frenzied fervor of the car. It had no beginning or end. No clear goal beyond the sheer intimacy of it, the connection. Nancy dipped her tongue into Robin’s mouth, bracing herself for the reaction that it would elicit, both from Robin and from the heat of her own body.  

When it finally ended, Robin groaned, leaning her head back, “Fuck.”

The motion exposed the column of her throat and Nancy swallowed. She was caught in the snares of her desire. Names flashed by, and faces, and moments, and words. This was her departure from them. From everything she’d known about how to live, how to be a person in the world. Marry some boring one-time jock, live out a perfectly boring life at the end of the cul-de-sac.  

It had never seemed further away from her now, the mere idea an impossibility, but yet…it still haunted her. Feeling like her life wasn’t her own, like all of this was just pretend, make-believe, a ploy meant to disguise her from the inevitability of her future.

She felt the frustration bubble up inside her. Tears came, hot and angry, melting down her face. She didn’t want Robin to see, so she tried to twist away, but it was too late; the other girl was already sitting up and pressing a comforting hand to her cheek.

Nancy leaned into the touch instinctively before coming to her senses and pulling back, seized by a sudden fright. She fled.

“Nancy? Are you okay?” Robin called out gently, brows furrowed as she brought her ear up to the bathroom door.

She heard nothing.

Robin waited a few more seconds before opening the door slightly, finding Nancy on the floor with her head in her hands. She dropped down next to her and sighed. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Nancy said when she felt Robin settle, “I know this isn’t fair to you and I’m just - I’m fucking it all up. I thought I could be brave and face whatever bullshit was coming but I’m…I’m not .”

“Hey. You are brave, okay? You’re the bravest person I know.”

They sat there quietly for a minute or two, just leaning against each other. Nancy focused on the steady rise and fall of Robin’s breathing.

Her hand twitched to seek out Robin’s, to roll a thumb over her knuckles and caress them.  

It was a fleeting urge. Barely conscious.

“What are you doing over there?” Robin asked, voice raspy like she’d just woken up.

“Just thinking.”

There was a pause after. Nancy could feel Robin shift behind her, the muscles of her back flexing.

“About - about what we did?”

“You didn’t do anything.”

Robin shuddered. She wanted to say yes, yes I did, I’m the reason for everything and I shouldn’t even be here right now but instead tucked her hands under her thighs and said softly, “You know what I mean.”

“I meant it when I said I didn’t regret it. But I’m just…I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how I’m going to tell him, or what’s going to come after.”

“How do you do it?” Nancy continued when Robin said nothing.

“Do what?”

“Be yourself. Not care about what other people think.”

“I do care,” Robin clarified, “but it didn’t matter. I never got a chance to fit in. People would…people would call me a dyke before I even knew what that meant. It’s like they could smell it on me or something.”

Nancy heard shuffling and a sharp intake of breath as Robin finished talking. She angled her body so that they were touching again, shoulder to shoulder. 

“You can fit in. With me,” a beat passed, and Nancy licked her lips, heart thundering in her chest, “you do.”

Robin turned around then, eyes searching for Nancy’s through the dark sheen of the bathroom light. Finding them, she wrapped hesitant arms around the girl’s frame. She kissed her neck, and cried. And cried. 

Chapter Text

Nancy finally spoke to Jonathan on Sunday, two days after the bathroom incident. Twenty since the car. 

It was funny how it seemed like her time was now subdivided into the moments she’d spent with Robin - before this, after that, since they did this together.

Not that it mattered anyway, because soon everything would all blow up into a million pieces. Nancy had no trust left in herself anymore. She’d relapsed with Robin (just as she suspected she might the second she saw her again outside Hellfire), but the most disorienting part was that she couldn’t tell which made her feel worse, which was worse; that she’d cheated on Jonathan, or that she’d done it with another girl.

A girl who she happened to maybe be a little in love with. Just a little. 

They’d spent the rest of Friday night tangled in each other, exchanging kisses in any place with an ounce of plausible deniability: shoulder, jaw, nose, collarbone, ear, basically anywhere but their mouths. 

And Robin, ever so mindful of the circumstances, had continuously reassured her that it would be okay. That no matter what, she’d be loved and accepted. 

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Nancy had said, looking down at her chipped nails.

“About what?” 

“Being accepted.”

Robin blinked, jaw clenching. She had nothing to say in response, thought every effort would be futile (especially since she’d been plagued by the very same gnawing fear for years), so she just sank further into Nancy and softly stroked the skin on her back. 

The memory pierced Nancy, flooding her senses as she grabbed onto the shirt hanging haphazardly off of her dresser - the same shirt she’d been wearing when it happened - and inhaled. 

It smelled like Robin, faintly. She breathed deeper.

She felt the shame curling in her. There was something rotten growing there, something undeniable. It reminded her of church on Sunday mornings, how she’d dig into her palms as the preacher launched into another one of his rants on “worldly sin” and the “curse of homosexuality”, feeling caught, exposed, and not knowing why. Not daring to ask.

Mike had looked uncomfortable too. Out-of-place. He’d look around at his parents, fidgeting, wondering why this was wrong and that was right without any explanation beyond the teachings of some old book. 

Maybe that was the real terror of this town, the real horror. Forget all the Demogorgons and Demodogs in the Upside Down and whatever else was crawling underneath their world; it was this world that held the true essence of evil. The pain of denying who you are, of fighting against it, trapped in this never-ending cycle of appearances and pretenses. 

Nancy reached for the phone next to her and dialed Jonathan’s number. She had it memorized, of course, courtesy of countless nights spent rolling the digits over in her mind, debating whether to call or not.

He picked up after the third ring. She half-wished he hadn’t.

“Hey, Nance.”

“Hey. It’s uh, good to hear your voice,” Nancy said, and it was good. It was right.

“Yeah. Yours, too,” Jonathan replied, then slightly inhaled, “Look, I know things have been…a little rocky between us and I want to say I’m sorry.”

“You don’t - you don’t have to apologize. I mean, I haven’t exactly been the greatest girlfriend either.”

There was a pause on the other end that psyched Nancy out a little. Did I say too much? Fuck. God, I’m acting paranoid.  

“No, I definitely do. I haven’t been…but can we, um, maybe not talk about this over the phone?”

“Of - of course. I just missed you.”

Nancy didn’t know if it was true. She thought it was, prayed it was, in any capacity that Jonathan would accept as romantic, but it fell flat outside her own head. 

It didn’t make sense that she couldn’t just be with him. She loved him as much as she could love another person, more even, and their shared trauma had bonded them for life. The real shit, as Murray would say.

But she had never felt such electricity like she did that night in the car - such a fierce sense of want, of single-minded lust. It consumed her every waking thought (well, besides the constant hum-drum of self pity and hate that always accompanied it).

“Are you busy right now? I was thinking we could go somewhere to talk. There’s kind of something that I need to tell you. Something important,” Jonathan said. He spoke in a rough, distant tone, like he was feigning concern for something which had already slipped through his fingers but couldn’t be bothered enough to fully commit to the lie.

Nancy couldn't help but wonder if she sounded like that, too.

“Oh,” Nancy echoed, “um, yeah. I’m free. And I do, too. But it’s not…Jonathan, it’s - fuck. It’s pretty serious.”

“So is mine.”

“Right,” she nodded, unconvinced.

They planned to meet at the park just outside of Lover’s Lake. It wasn’t an ideal spot, but then again, Nancy wasn’t looking for something romantic and intimate as the backdrop for their likely imminent breakup.

As she took a seat on the same bench they’d both sat on years prior while waiting to break the news of Barb’s death to her parents, a wave of doubt washed over her. Was this really what she should be doing? Ending things with the one boy she had any chance of actually loving?

But that chance came and went long ago. And she had her answer, even if it ripped her apart inside. 

Jonathan arrived ten minutes late. He apologized and mumbled something about needing to run errands for Joyce and Will, and Nancy accepted it with a tight-lipped smile. The whole thing felt stark, and chilled, tinged with an air of despondency. 

It felt like a funeral. 

After a series of exchanging pleasantries, Jonathan went silent, hand caught under his leg as it bounced nervously up and down. Nancy watched the action with a strange ease. 

He had a look of vague regret on his face as he said, “What I wanted to tell you is that I haven’t been honest. About Emerson.”

“…You didn’t get in?” Nancy asked.

It was surprising, sure, although not the worst thing he could’ve said. Her mind raced for any possible reasons he could have had for lying before landing on the harsh truth that she didn’t actually care. Was glad, even. 

“No, I did but - I also applied somewhere else. And got in there.” 

“Oh,” Nancy said, deflated, because it seemed so…nothing, especially compared to everything else they’d been through, “where?”

“Lenora community college. And I’ve been talking with Argyle about it, and we’re, we’re planning on going. Well, we were, anyway. I know we had all these plans for the future and I really wanted to do it with you but it’s just - it’s gotten all twisted and it’s like,” Jonathan took a breath, “it’s like I don't know where you are anymore. You’re just…somewhere else.”

Nancy sighed, reminded of what Mike had said to her about how she’d been “weirdly distant” these last few weeks. It seemed like she couldn’t escape the scrutiny she was placed under by everyone in her life. That no matter what she did, it would never be enough.

Although Nancy supposed it was a bit different with Jonathan, who clawed his way towards his own life with little help and was patient (mostly, at least) while she worked through things.

“I mean, the distance hasn’t helped. Sometimes I think I don’t know where I am, either.”

Jonathan gave her a sympathetic look and Nancy wanted to throw up. She meant it, of course, but the longer the words sat there the more she realized it wasn’t true. 

Because she knew exactly where she was, hidden beneath the covers mumbling Robin’s name into her pillow like some lovesick freak.

Robin . Robin. Nancy liked her name. Liked saying it, liked the way it felt coming out of her mouth, all firm yet weightless. Flightless, like a baby bird. Like a robin. Her Robin.

“…Nancy? Did you hear what I just said?” Jonathan said, waving a hand in front of her face to jolt her out of whatever reverie she’d gotten herself into, and Nancy could do nothing but stare at him, wide-eyed.

“Jesus. You really are somewhere else.”

His borderline-mocking tone wounded her, so she thought to do the only fitting thing; be a bitch about it. “Oh, come on Jonathan, it’s not like you haven’t been quite literally somewhere else for months."

“Nancy, I - that wasn’t my decision. You know that.”

“Yeah well, I’m pretty sure not writing or calling or doing anything was.”

The venom in her voice surprised her, the emotion.  

Jonathan opened his mouth then closed it again, treading on careful waters, “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what more you want me to say.”

“You’ve been lying to me. This whole time,” Nancy said, flushed, feeling as if she were cosplaying someone else. This anger wasn’t her own. And neither was the love - it was all borrowed, passed down to her from generations and generations of the Wheeler name.

“Yeah, because I was scared of how you might react if you found out. I didn’t want you to just drop everything so you could come be with me at some stupid community college half-way across the country. And then after…it was too late.”

Nancy’s face fell, looking at him with a sudden foreignness, “Who do you think I am?”

“What?” he scoffed.

“Do you really think I would do that? Drop everything?”

Her voice trembled, on the precipice of something, and it occurred to her that she wanted it to be true, wanted to believe that she was capable of loving someone so fiercely that she would abandon her own ambitions for them, to fulfill the role her mother had fulfilled. The role a woman should fulfill.

But it was all bullshit.

Jonathan scratched the back of his neck. He looked tired. “I would.”

“Jonathan..”

“But, you know what? It doesn’t matter anymore. This,” he gestured to the space between them, “isn’t working. Clearly. I think we both know that.”

There was a silence, and then Nancy found herself saying, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tears threatened to spill out, and she rocked herself back and forth. Comfort in nothing. Sin all mine. 

If this was it (and it sure felt like it was), then Nancy was screwed. She knew that telling him the truth was the only hope she had of ever absolving herself from this guilt, but her stomach still churned violently at the thought. How he would take it, what he might say…

“Sorry for - Nance, what are you sorry for?”

She didn’t speak, not right away, too wound up to even begin conjuring a reply. Maybe that would be enough. The non-answer, hanging her head in shame. 

“Did you…do something?” he asked, a perturbed look on his face. A sickness spreading. 

Nancy nodded, just barely. She could feel the wind pick up then, whirling in circles of judgment around her. 

“Oh, my God. How could you - wh - with who ? Was it Steve? Fuck, Nancy, I thought it was weird when you defended him but I never thought -“

“It wasn’t Steve.”

Jonathan coughed, “Then who?”

“I…,” Nancy felt her vision go blurry, her hearing all muffled, “I can’t say.”

She couldn’t out Robin. Even if the whole school already knew, even if it meant nothing in the long run. They hadn’t discussed the specifics of any of that, whether or not they could tell people (well, nothing beyond a simple do what you have to do muttered into the skin of Nancy’s shoulder in response to how she should handle her talk with Jonathan).

Jonathan cradled his face in his hands, huffing. It hurt her to see him so torn up, but it was markedly different from the kind of hurt she got from seeing Robin that way. Less…prickly. 

“I think I should go,” he said flatly.

“Wh - that's it? You're not gonna…”

“I’m not gonna what?” Jonathan shook his head in disbelief, “Nancy, you - you cheated on me. It’s over. And it’s been over for a while now, and maybe that’s why you did it, I don’t know, but frankly I don’t care. I don’t care which meathead you slept with because it doesn’t matter. I mean, this is like - I fucking told you that this would end up happening -“

Nancy scratched the inside of her wrist, scorched by Jonathan’s words, and she leveled her voice to carry out what she had to say, “It’s not like that. It wasn’t a guy.”

There was a lapse in time. He paused, blinking away his confusion. Nancy braced herself for whatever his reaction may be, though was at least semi-assured that it wouldn't be outright homophobia, considering.

Considering Will. 

“What are you telling me?”

“It wasn’t a guy,” Nancy repeated, her previous calmness dissipating at the abruptness in Jonathan’s voice, “and I think I’m in love with her. Fuck, I - I didn't mean for it to go down like that, I swear to you, it just all happened so fast and we weren’t thinking and,” she was nearly hyperventilating at this point, so she paused, took a grounding breath, “it doesn’t change how I feel about you. But I had to say it.”

None of this was going to plan. Nancy wasn’t supposed to confess her love for Robin, especially not to Jonathan of all people, but it all came spilling out of her, like she’d been injected with some truth serum.

As Jonathan’s expression quietly morphed from one of harsh steeliness to a softer understanding, she let out another breath, relieved that he wasn’t entirely furious with her (although it wasn’t like she wouldn't have deserved it). And it was possible that he already guessed it was Robin, because he’d seen them together at school a few times and she was basically the only female friend that Nancy had.

“So, I guess they don't work after all.”

Nancy grit her teeth, jaw clenching. She immediately recognized it as a callback to their last discussion about long-distance relationships before he left, a subtle nod towards the precariousness of the situation, and, in retrospect, towards their relationship itself. 

“I love you,” Nancy tried, knowing it was useless. 

He tapped his fingers on the wood of the bench, “I loved you. More than anything.”

“Jonathan, I know this doesn’t make it any better but I’m so sorry I did what I did. I don't expect you to forgive me at all, it's just…I’m like this. I don't know why.”

“It’s fine,” he said, looking down at his shoes. It was an empty, hollow sort of sound. He was slipping away.

Jonathan didn’t ask anything else. He didn’t want to know when, or where, or what, or why. Nancy began to suspect that he’d been anticipating, on some level, the news, and as much as she hated proving him right, it did soften the blow in its own weird way.

They parted with a tentative hug, and Jonathan wished her well, to which she sobbed and clutched his flannel. He let her, which only made her cry harder, because someone this good did not deserve any of this. 

She drove home in silence, listening to the patter of rain as it hit the sides of the car. There was a weird, twisty feeling in her gut, but also something new. Something colorful and real. It permeated everything - made the clouds less gray, the tips of her fingers less brittle. She realized with a shudder that she was content.

The thoughts of Robin continued as Nancy pulled up into her driveway, as she greeted her mother and fell into her arms. They didn’t stop once she hid her face into the crook of her neck, scared out of her mind that if her mom knew, if she really knew the truth about her, then she’d never hold her like this again.

“We broke up,” Nancy said through wet eyes.

“Oh, honey. Come here,” Karen furrowed her brows, hugging Nancy tighter, “it’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”

Nancy desperately wanted to believe she was right. But how could she when the entire world seemed hellbent on erasing their existence, on denouncing gay people as the scum of the earth?

Diseased, the preacher had said. Diseased.  

I know who I am. Maybe I’ve known for a long time, and was just too afraid to admit it, but I know. And I’m done trying to convince myself otherwise. What I feel when I’m with her is like - indescribable.  I don’t know how else to explain it, it’s like I’m going crazy.

I lost him. I hope we can be friends again someday. He was always a little far away, and I never knew why. But was it actually me? Was I the one out of reach? I’m starting to think I was. God, I hope I haven’t screwed it up with Robin.

It feels like all I do is screw things up. I mean, I am the reason that Barb is dead. Nobody ever wanted to admit it but it’s true. And now…there’s just this knot in my stomach. And it won’t go away. I wish I was normal. I wish I was normal. I wish I was - 

Chapter Text

“Mom, can we go? Please?” Mike whined, leaning against the living room wall. 

“Michael, I’ve already told you no. I have to pick up Holly from dance recital and we’re going straight home after that. You know the rules-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he sighed, dejected, then fell to his knees dramatically in a not-so-discreet attempt to make Will laugh, “we’re trapped here in this prison until the end of eternity!”

Will laughed at the display despite himself, rolling his eyes. He knew Mike had been waiting for the opportunity to watch Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome for almost a year, so now that it was finally available in stores, it was like all he could talk about.  

Not that he was complaining. It was just…well. There seemed to be more pressing matters at hand.

Matters that may or may not have included Will’s own burgeoning identity crisis, which, aside from coming on at the worst possible moment, just so happened to revolve around his (very heterosexual) best friend. 

“Why do you even wanna see it so bad? I heard it was, like, boring.”

Mike got back up and walked over to Will, “It’s not about the movie, exactly. I mean, I would’ve seen it when it first came out, but like, the mall burned down literally days before it could. Which is so unfair. So, I need to make up for that. Make up for lost time.”

Will nodded in understanding, “Go back in time.”

Halfway across the room, Nancy observed her brother give Will a small smile in response. It was hard to tell exactly what it represented, but she assumed it wasn’t dissimilar to the way she looked at Robin.

Speaking of Robin, they hadn’t talked properly since her break up with Jonathan. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to, or that she didn’t miss her, because by God did she miss her, but there never seemed like a good time to bring it up. Everything was so precarious. And the longer she waited, the more anxious she grew that it would turn into something they couldn’t come back from. Like maybe forgiveness had its limits.

Which was why she decided to step in just as Mike was about to start bargaining with their mom again, crossing over to the front door and grabbing her keys off the table. 

“Mike. Stop tweaking out. I’ll drive you guys,” Nancy said, keys jingling in her hand.

He perked up. “Really?”

“Yeah. Come on.”

Mike briefly looked towards Karen to get her approval, but she was already glaring at Nancy disapprovingly. The three of them shared a small talk before she gave in and let them go, Nancy gathering the boys in her car and starting the ignition. She could see their little exchange of glances from the rear view mirror and felt her heart melt into a thousand pieces. 

Ever since the seismic earthquake that had claimed half of Hawkins, Karen set a strict policy on who could leave the house with who and at what time. Which was sort of ironic, considering it had already struck and there weren’t many places left to go anyway, but whatever.

And Family Video just so happened to be one of those places. It was a relatively short drive, squarely in the middle of town, and Nancy used to drop by every so often to browse their selection (both for herself and for Mike). Occasionally, she’d go for more… robust purposes, namely “cataloging the town’s points of interest for future journalistic endeavors”. That was just an embellished way of saying she would rent movies in hopes that the school newspaper would ask her to write a review about them or of the store itself.  

But they never did, except for that one time last year where her supervisors had requested an update on their former golden boy, Steve “The Hair” Harrington, and so Nancy was forced to visit him and ask him meandering questions about Scoops and his new job. None of it was that interesting, although every now and then she’d catch a glimpse of Robin darting in and out of the back room carrying tapes, and she’d give her a cordial smile.

Nancy knew Robin worked there. Of course she knew. Had estimated her schedule too, and figured she’d be there right about this time. Usually, Nancy would feel embarrassed and vaguely stalker-ish about that, but there was no room left to feel anything other than guilt, and a distant giddiness that she was going to see her.

Once they arrived, she took a calming breath before getting out of the car, overwhelmed with a sudden and abrupt anxiousness. Will and Mike were already rushing inside, eager, a soft breeze flowing in the wind. Nancy could just make out the top of Robin’s head from where she was standing outside the door.

It was foolish, really, all of it was. How her hand trembled when she reached for the handle, how her chest tightened when she saw Robin properly for the first time in well over a week.

“If you guys are looking for Beyond Thunderdome, it should be over there in the newly released section. And, okay, don’t tell anyone, but it’s half off today. My treat.”

Steve gave Robin a look as she talked, “Really, Rob? You’re just gonna - alright. Whatever.” 

Robin couldn’t find the words to explain to him why she felt such a strong affinity for Nancy’s younger brother and his friend, at least not without revealing some other, decidedly complicated things about them all, so she just silenced him with a stare.

And then she saw Nancy, and it was like everything went quiet for a moment. Tunnel vision. She was walking up to the counter, or sauntering, maybe. Robin wasn’t sure what the difference was anymore.

“Hey, Robin. Can we -” Nancy paused, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, looking all out of sorts, “can I talk to you for a sec? Outside?”

Robin blinked at her, once, twice, “Um, sure. Yeah. Steve, you got them, right?”

He mumbled something Nancy couldn’t hear then raised his hand, annoyed, “Yep. Got the kids. Again.”

Robin gingerly stepped out from behind the counter and followed Nancy outside, the bell sounding out. 

There was a distorted tension in the air. And Nancy knew that she was the cause of it once again, just like she had been during that awkward conversation after they’d slept together. I like you, Nancy told her. 

And for what? Why would she even say that if she was just going to - just going to run away like she always did? And now Robin was all…all lost. Drifting out to sea. They both were.

Nancy scratched the inside of her wrist as Robin walked towards Steve’s car and leaned against it, head falling back momentarily. Her eyes found Nancy’s briefly and she twitched, not wanting to be seen. 

In some ways it reminded her of herself, how, after the fallout of Starcourt, freshly scorched by Jonathan’s departure, she’d layed low. Vowed not to let anyone (or anything) touch her again. But it hadn’t worked, clearly, if her current situation with Robin was anything to go off of.

Pulling herself off the car, Robin approached Nancy and asked her what it was she wanted to say.

Tell her. Just tell her. Tell her you broke up with him.

“I missed you,” Nancy said instead. 

Robin took a step back, barely an inch or so. “Yeah.”

She sounded unusually cold, colder than Nancy had ever heard her before. 

“Did I screw this all up?”

“No, Nance, no. It’s just that - well, I’ve had time to like, process my own emotions and everything and I feel…I don’t know, put off.”

“Put off? Wh - what?”

“Because,” Robin squinted at the sun. She couldn’t keep her eyes on Nancy, “look. When we were together, I was like…I was so fucking happy, I mean I-“ she paused, sucking her teeth in, “and I thought that maybe you were, too. But then when I tried to talk to you, I’d just get this blank look. Like you didn’t want me around.”

“I do want you around,” Nancy moved closer to her, “Robin, I do. That’s not - that hasn’t changed.”

Nancy could tell by Robin’s body language that she’d rather be literally anywhere else. She shrugged into herself, shuffling her feet. Mouth in a harsh line. 

After several beats, Robin asked in a broken, vulnerable voice, “Why did you invite me over?”

“What?” Nancy said it like she didn’t understand the question. But she did.

The truth was that Nancy had done a lot more damage than she’d initially let on. After that night in her room (although technically during), she’d completely shut Robin out and begged her, in a not-so gracious manner, to leave. To collect her things and go. 

“It gave me hope. Like, all that stuff you said about…about how we fit and how you’d never felt that way before. And you kissed me but it was different, or at least I thought it was. But then you just kicked me out like it was nothing. Like nothing had changed,” Robin said wetly, passionately, "You can’t just like, dart in and out my life. You can’t do that.”

The tremor in Robin’s voice stirred something in Nancy, something mighty and real and entirely new. She was filled with a vague ache, a burning need to have Robin close to her. To patch her up and lick her tears away. And Nancy didn’t know what to do with that, truthfully, because it was both more major and more inconceivable than anything she’d ever felt before.

But her missteps of the past month still ate away at her, quietly tormented by the painful, strained look on Jonathan’s face as he realized what she had done, and Robin’s distant, sad eyes every time Nancy left her.

“Hey. I’m not gonna do that anymore, okay? I won’t.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I…broke up with him. It’s over.”

The words felt choppy coming out of Nancy’s mouth, but the finality of it soothed her, somehow, casted a lovely shadow over everything. 

“Oh,” Robin breathed out, throat bobbing. 

She didn’t say anything else at first, just stood there processing the implications. The breeze from earlier came back and winded around them. 

“That’s what I wanted to tell you. I was just scared, before. But I should’ve - I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. This whole thing just…it’s been a lot,” Nancy admitted, picking at her wrist again. 

“Like, in a good way?” Robin asked apprehensively.

“Yes. I think. I mean I…I want to be with you. Actually be with you. And I want to stay.”

Robin looked at her intently, genuinely, a strand of wavy hair blowing into her face. Her lips were parted. 

There was so much Robin wanted to ask Nancy, so much she needed to know. But it was all she could do to just lean in and pull her into a hug, heartbeat pounding like crazy. She was sure Nancy could feel it, too.

Nancy hugged her back, tighter, and nosed her way up to Robin’s ear, their height difference making it a bit of a stretch. It tickled, and Robin laughed.

“I wanna believe you.”

“Then believe me,” Nancy whispered.

“Okay. Okay.”

They broke off from the hug and Robin’s eyes immediately caught on Nancy’s lips. She smiled shyly when Nancy pressed two fingers to her chin, tracing down the line of her jaw. 

“I kinda wanna kiss you right now.”

Nancy looked around. There was no one near them (well, no one who wasn’t already in the store) but there were still a couple cars parked out front.

“Later, okay?”

“When is later?”

Nancy grinned, lightly tracing her fingers up and down Robin’s neck and then settling on twisting them in her tuft of hair. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”

Robin didn’t get the chance to respond before she was interrupted by the chaos of the doors bursting open, Mike, Will and Max tumbling out. They were each holding a copy of the movie in their hands and paused when they caught sight of the pair.

Mike was the first to react; he narrowed his eyes, mouth hung open in confusion, and blinked a few times, then lowered his gaze a little, to give them time to separate or to give himself time to process. And then he immediately turned towards Will, who had an unreadable expression on his face, but was staring back at him with an intensity that rivaled his own. 

They said nothing. Meanwhile, Nancy and Robin quickly distanced themselves from each other, Robin stumbling back as if in a daze. She made the motion of wiping her mouth, which Nancy noticed and flushed at, because even though they hadn’t actually kissed, it still made it seem like they did, and at that point there was no tangible difference between the two. Between guilty and innocent. 

Max broke the silence, slightly amused by the whole thing, and pushed past Mike to get on her bike, “C’mon losers, we don’t have all day.”

She frowned when the boys didn't move a muscle. There was something strange going on, this little arrangement, though Max couldn’t tell exactly what it was. And she certainly had no idea that Nancy and Robin were…what they were. 

Lucas had mentioned in passing a while back about how Mike was acting weird with El, and really, she hadn’t paid much mind to it because he always was a little different around her. It wasn't anything new. But now, seeing the tension rise and boil over them in this parking lot, it made her wonder if there was more to what he said than she’d originally considered. 

A harsh gust of wind blew towards where they were standing, and Nancy circled around to her car, gesturing for Robin, Will and her brother to join her. 

“Robin, do you wanna…?”

Robin blushed, “Oh. Um, I can’t. Still on shift,” she fake laughed, holding up her Ask Me! vest pin, “But soon.  Definitely. We’re gonna…um. See you.”

She hurried back inside. Nancy watched with longing, and a quiet resolution that she wasn’t going to break the promise she’d made to her. Robin would know that she was wanted, and loved - even if it killed her. 

Will and Mike had planned to watch the movie with Max after they found her loitering in the 50% off section of the store. She agreed, saying that she didn't have anything better to do anyway. 

That’s where they were now, hanging out in the Wheeler basement while the TV played a sequence of Max in a high-speed chase. He’d gotten in trouble with the people of Bartertown and hopped on a train and rode it to escape altogether from the Underworld. 

Mike thought it was good, although frankly he hadn’t been paying that much attention. His mind was still stuck on the scene from earlier; Nancy and Robin entangled together, barely an inch between them. 

He tried not to think too deeply about the implications, but it ate away at him. There was this tightness in his chest that just wouldn’t go away. And it was made doubly worse by Will’s presence beside him, not close enough to touch but close enough that Mike could feel the tiny pangs of his own heart. 

Max got up from the couch to use the bathroom when the movie’s action died down. It caused Mike to grow weirdly nervous, worse than before, because it was the first time he’d been alone with Will since their stare-down. The drive home after was silent, stagnant, worlds apart from the careful yet familiar ease of their Cali road trip, where they’d laughed and shared stories they wished didn't have to be shared. Where Will had shown him the painting …

He shook his head and stretched out a little, reaching for the bowl of popcorn on the table. Will didn't make any movements. Nothing to acknowledge Mike for the last half hour beyond a simple nod and barely intelligible mutters. But, to Mike’s surprise, he ended up being the one to speak first.

“What was that earlier?”

“Huh?” Mike said, pretending not to know exactly what Will was referring to, “What was what?”

“I mean with your sister and…,” Will looked to Mike for the name.

“Robin,” Mike supplied, voice uneven.

“Right. Robin. I just, like, I dunno, they seemed pretty close.”

Mike was struck with the urge to defend Nancy from the insinuation, even though he had seen enough for himself to all-but confirm it. He felt annoyed, and vindictive, but for what (or why ) he could not say.

Maybe it was because she had lied to him when he asked her about Jonathan. Maybe that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“They’re friends.”

“Like we’re friends?” Will dared asking, a slightly accusatory tone lacing his words.

“Yeah, Will. Because we are.”

Will tried to hide his face from Mike. It felt like a dagger to his heart once again. Why was it always like this, hot-and-cold, sweet and cruel at the same time? He didn’t know how much more he could take.

Fiddling with his thumbs, Will swallowed down the lump forming in his throat and then rubbed the back of his neck. Nothing more was said on the subject, because Max came back from the bathroom then, effectively quelling any further discussion.

The three of them finished the movie, Mike taking every opportunity to joke around with Max while completely ignoring Will. It hurt more than words could express, because nothing was different . 

He’d been foolish enough to somehow convince himself that the last month spent living with Mike meant something. That maybe they’d managed to finally cross that bridge of uncertainty and tension (which had been slowly brewing ever since Mike started dating El - not that Will would ever admit that). Only they hadn’t. 

“It was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

What bullshit.

As soon as Nancy dropped the kids off at their house, she drove right back to Family Video. Running on adrenaline, or on something dangerously akin to love; a deep, vast love that she couldn’t begin to understand, much less explain.

When Robin saw her this time, she looked marginally less surprised, but was still sporting this dopey, half-hopeful half-terrified expression that made Nancy want to rip her clothes off and go to town on her right then and there.

“You came back.” Robin was breathless, a little. She smiled. 

“I wanted to,” Nancy said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, smiling back at Robin, “We didn’t get to finish what we started earlier. And I thought I should let the kids be.”

“So Mike knows.”

Nancy couldn’t tell if Robin was happy or upset about that, or a secret third thing, or nothing at all. 

“Maybe. I don’t know for sure. I’m gonna talk to him about it, but, look - he won’t tell anyone. If…that’s what you’re worried about.”

Robin squinted, said softly, “I’m not worried about that. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. Everything’s changing, you know?”

It was so sweet and sincere that Nancy could hardly stand it. How had she earned such kindness, especially after all the shit she’d done to warrant the exact opposite?

But Robin knew her, saw something in her that Nancy herself wasn’t able to see. Nancy could still recall what Robin had told her that night, how she’d always kept her in the back of her mind, a peripheral thing. How she…was smart and capable and brave and lovely .

No one had ever used those words to describe her before, not with such conviction anyway, and never without slipping in a comment or two about her appearance. Nancy used to feel flattered by that. Would preen whenever Steve called her beautiful, or whenever Jonathan would remark on the patterns of her skirt. 

Except it didn't mean anything. Because it wasn't her . All of the dress-up. Playing up a life which would only ever amount to discontentment in the end. Fighting monsters and leading investigations and becoming a world-renowned journalist, that was her. And maybe that was what Robin saw. 

Nancy wanted to tear up just thinking about that, and nearly did, as Robin made her way over to the front doors and flipped the sign around so that it read “open” on their side. 

Noticing how quiet Nancy was being, Robin stepped up to meet her. They were so close. 

“Hey,” Robin furrowed her brows, gently cupping Nancy’s cheeks, “ Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think I am.”

Robin was staring at her mouth. She wasn’t worried about getting interrupted this time, because Steve had already taken off to hang with Eddie and no one else would be crazy or desperate enough to try to come in the store during closing hours.

Nancy got a grip on Robin’s waist, but it was Robin that made the first move. Leaning down, she shattered the distance and kissed Nancy, swooping and joyous. And it lasted for a long, long time.

Eventually, Robin pulled away for some air, lips reddened and breaths coming out in short bursts. And she looked so delicious in her cute little green vest. Nancy wanted to - no, needed to - devour her, to sink her teeth into the tender skin of her neck and bite. 

So she did.

Robin moaned, only half because it felt good, and guided Nancy back to her own mouth so that they were kissing again. It was harsher this time, unrestrained. Nancy backed her against a wall and Robin let out a huff at the force of the action. She grabbed Nancy's ass through her jeans, trying to fit their hips together properly. No space. She was sick of space. 

A slim leg got caught in between Robin’s thighs, and she went all red and got both hands on Nancy’s hips to keep her there and honest-to-God whimpered. It was almost too much for Nancy to take. Fuck , Robin always got so delirious when they kissed, it really wasn’t fair. 

“Baby, baby. Slow down.”

They parted, the loss registering as physical pain. Robin looked down, then back at Nancy, flushed. 

“Sorry. You just make me so…”

“Crazy?” Nancy offered.

Robin grinned, hands returning to lazily rub Nancy’s hips, “Yeah. Crazy.”

She leaned in for another kiss, which Nancy granted her, only intending for it to be a peck - but Robin was greedy, and soon after she opened her mouth further in an attempt to deepen it. Nancy let her, kind of, giggling at how blatantly silly it all was. 

“You make me crazy, too,” Nancy whispered when it ended, overjoyed that it was finally true. That after all these years of faking and hiding and false loves, she’d finally found it . The one person who understood her. Who didn’t back out of every conversation. Who wanted her, in such a primal, reciprocal way.

There was a clap of thunder outside. It was quiet, barely there, but Nancy could still hear the rumble, a signal of some impending doom waiting to strike them down. 

“I think it's gonna storm.”

“I know,” Nancy said, muffled, and snuggled into Robin some more, “Can we stay like this for a little longer?”

Robin nodded, could do nothing but nod. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

It was nearing 10:00, and her curfew was at 11, and Nancy should’ve never agreed to go to this stupid party. The only reason she’d accepted the invite from Steve in the first place was because he had pitched it as a “small, lowkey hangout with our friends to welcome them back. You wouldn’t wanna disappoint them, right?” Nancy sighed. Steve always had such a way with words.

Jonathan, Will, Joyce and El were officially moved back into Hawkins as of two weeks ago. El was with Hopper and Joyce in his cabin, or in the Byers’ old house (Nancy still wasn’t sure), Will spent the majority of his time with Mike goofing around, and Jonathan…he was there.

The last time they’d spoken was a few days after everything had gone down. He pulled up to her driveway with no warning, asking if they were okay and Nancy promised him they were and smiled, pretending to be happy. Pretending like she didn’t feel something close to dread settle inside of her.

It was an eye-opening moment, both because Nancy realized that it didn’t feel the same, that she didn’t want him anymore, but also that she may never have wanted him in the first place.

And Nancy struggled with that, truthfully. But in the face of possible demise courtesy of an intergalactic demon, it had (fortunately or unfortunately) dropped down to about the third most pressing thing in her life.

When she arrived at Steve's house, there were more people than she’d been anticipating, but not a lot , so she supposed he could be forgiven. Still, it was weird and dissonant to be back there after all these years. 

After… Barb.

Nancy found herself lounging on a couch, bored out of her mind. She’d spent the last hour and a half mostly keeping to herself while watching on as Steve and his loyal band of followers played beer pong, among other ridiculously juvenile activities.

She got up to go use the bathroom and when she returned, was surprised to see Robin Buckley standing right there in the corner, a solo cup in her hand. 

“Oh. Hey, Nance.”

“Hey. Um, were you waiting?” Nancy signaled to the bathroom door.

Robin shook her head. “No, no. I’m just…here.”

“You know Steve?”

“Yeah,” Robin said, “We’re kinda friends, actually. Is that, like, surprising?”

“No, no, I just -“ Nancy spat out, wringing her hands together, “you’re not really his type.”

“Type,” Robin nodded, hurt, “right.”

“Of people that he hangs out with. That’s all I meant.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re not his type, either.”

Nancy didn’t really know how to respond to that. She felt weirdly exposed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Robin ducked her head down, “Like…girls that do really well on their SATs.”

“Smart girls,” she clarified.

“Yeah.”

Robin tugged her lip between her teeth. She looked bashful, out-of-place. Beautiful. 

Maybe Nancy shouldn’t have been so shocked to find her here, at this party, but it’s not like it’s ever happened before. As far as Nancy knew, Robin was the last person who would ever show up to some sweaty, crowded, Steve Harrington-hosted celebratory bash.

She guessed that made two of them.

“Do you want  - um, do you want a drink or-“

“I’m good. But thanks. I was actually thinking about heading out soon.”

“Oh. Sorry. I don’t wanna hold you up,” Robin said.

Nancy shrugged her off. “It’s fine. You know, I think this is the first time all evening I haven’t been suffocating with boredom.”

Robin blinked at her and scratched her neck. She smiled a bit, all lopsided, and it was so endearing that Nancy could hardly stand it. She didn’t know exactly how she’d stumbled into this conversation, or what road it would eventually lead down. But she was open to finding out.

“I was gonna leave earlier but Steve kinda drove me here and he’s, um…I think he’s with some girl upstairs.”

For some reason the shakiness in Robin’s voice made Nancy’s stomach flutter. She pushed the feeling aside.

“Well, I can drive you. If it’s - if it’s cool with you.”

Robin visibly swallowed, “Really? That would be - you don’t have to, I mean I can just wait for Steve to…”

“What? Finish?”

She grew even redder, saying nothing. No objection of disgust or smart quip. Like maybe on some level Robin knew, in a roundabout way, that Nancy wasn’t really talking (or thinking) about Steve at all.

And maybe she wasn’t. Nancy hadn’t meant for it to come off as flirtatious, more just teasing, but the stuffiness of the air coupled with the warm glow of the low-hanging ceiling light made her head spin, dizzy with anticipation, with possibility…

Leading Robin out to her car, Nancy opened the passenger door for her (to which Robin thanked her profusely, stumbling over her words). She wondered distantly if this was anything like that one time Jonathan took her home junior year, drunk out of her mind. Except Robin wasn’t drunk; or at least, Nancy didn’t think she was. 

“Can you believe this is the most we’ve ever spoken to each other?” Nancy asked once they got settled in. 

“Yeah,” Robin said instinctively, then hurried to explain, “Sorry. I didn’t mean…I just meant that it’s like, not that surprising. Considering you didn’t even know who I was at Starcourt, and then everything got all weird and I only saw you like, every couple weeks at work, or in the cafeteria sometimes but that wasn’t - you know.”

Robin gulped, looked around the car before settling her gaze back on Nancy. Well, near her. Somewhere.

“I did know,” Nancy said quietly.

“What?”

“I did know you. I remembered.”

“…from?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. Just…different places. You’re not really someone I would forget.”

Robin couldn't believe what she was hearing. No one had ever said anything half as romantic to her, half as meaningful. She took a deep breath and reached over for the seat belt to buckle it.

They drove in comfortable silence for a while, Robin quietly guiding Nancy through the winding roads leading toward her house. Eventually, they struck up an easy rapport, chatting away about school and life and movies and the new The Smiths album.

Nancy liked how charming Robin was, the way her shy aloofness seemed built in on a molecular level. And it was nice to finally talk to another girl her age again.

That was what Nancy told herself throughout it all. That it was innocent, playful. Inevitable. That Jonathan never needed to know. 

“So you didn’t, like, push them to write your name down?” Robin asked her once Nancy had explained her snub situation with the local paper.

They’d both gotten slurpees from the mostly-deserted 7-Eleven out near Robin’s house (which had required some convincing on Nancy’s part, but Robin did make an offhand comment that she was hungry and Nancy just couldn't let that go), and were now parked in the grass beyond the flickering green and red neon sign. 

She shook her head. “I guess I’m so used to doing all the work and getting none of the credit,” Nancy lamented, flashing back to her internship at the Hawkins Post.  

“Screw that! You’re, like, super smart and capable and anyone who doesn’t wanna honor that is just - well they’re just stupid. Or sexist.” 

Nancy laughed at that. Robin’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Yeah, pretty sure it’s the latter. My old job was filled with guys who didn’t take me seriously. They’d just expect me to be some sort of lapdog, dismissing all my ideas in the moment only to steal them later. It’s,” she sighed, agitated, “it’s whatever.”

“No Nance, it’s not. I mean, they should be like, reported for that or something. That’s really messed up.”

“No one cares.”

Robin looked at her earnestly. “I do.”

Nancy could feel herself smiling. It was exhilarating to hear Robin be so open and reciprocal about this; especially considering Jonathan was basically the opposite while it was actually happening, downplaying and dismissing her legitimate frustrations.

“Thanks,” Nancy said quietly. Shyly.

“For what?”

“Just…being here. Being you.”

Robin ducked her head down, not trusting her face to conceal the sheen of emotion playing on it. Of joy.

“I wasn’t really open with Jonathan about stuff like that,” Nancy admitted, heartbeat picking up at how vulnerable she was being, “I mean, I tried to be, but he just - he didn't understand. He didn’t…get me.”

Something flashed in Robin’s eyes, and she placed her hands on her thighs. “Oh. But, you guys are fine, right?”

It was a question Nancy couldn’t even begin to answer, much less reflect on herself, so she just hummed and shrugged, “I guess. I just…he feels so far away. And I know he was quite literally far away for a while, but now that he’s back, it’s just - it’s not any different.”

Would Robin buy that? God, Nancy didn’t even know what she was trying to sell.

“Well, I’m sure things will go back to normal with time. You know, this is just a blip. Long-distance is a strain on even the strongest relationships.”

That made Nancy upset, somehow, hearing Robin be so flatly encouraging, and how it sounded like she was reading off of an infographic on what to say to someone who might be going through a potential breakup. 

“You don’t have to do that.”

Robin flushed, “Do what?”

“Convince me that it’s okay. That I can be with him.”

“I wasn’t..,” Robin trailed off, licking her lips. Braving Nancy. The tension doubled in seconds, “Can you…not be with him? Is there like a reason?”

Nancy knew that this was her chance to end whatever was brewing between them. To snap it clean in half. But…she couldn’t. Because here, in this cramped space in the front seat of Nancy’s hand-me-down car, consumed by feverish impulses and wrapped in shadows of darkness, there was nothing left to hide.

This was going to change her. Break her.

Adrenaline coursing through her veins, Nancy unbuckled her seatbelt and took her coat off in one swift movement.

“What are you doing?” Robin asked, nervous.

Nancy cleared her throat, “I’m - I’m sorry. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not.”

Robin briefly looked at Nancy’s lips and blushed, hard.

The heat was rising, reaching a boiling point, and Nancy was powerless to stop it. She didn’t particularly want to, honestly, and figured Robin didn’t, either.

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Just…,” Nancy made some incoherent gesture with her hands, “so sweet.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before. But, I mean, I - I guess it depends what you mean by that. I’m not like this with everyone. Not with anyone, really.”

Nancy leaned in impossibly closer to Robin, close enough that she could make out the delicate hairs of her eyelashes. “Let me guess,” she began, “only with girls that do well on their SATs?”

Robin grinned, because it was an out, and Nancy had said it with such playfulness and acceptance that it made her cheeks burn and her eyes prickle with relief.

Maybe there was a place for her, after all.

“You could say that.”

“Robin,” Nancy said seriously. 

“Nancy,” Robin parroted, groaning as she shimmied and pressed her face into the seat to try and hide from Nancy, then said thickly, “What are you doing to me?”

Nancy laughed. Robin was being ridiculous. But she wanted to see her, so she laid a cautious hand on Robin’s shoulder and, when Robin didn’t make a move to pull away, trailed her fingers up to Robin’s jaw to gently tug her forward so that she was facing Nancy.

God, what am I doing? And why do I - fuck.

Robin’s mouth was open, just staring at Nancy all wide-eyed. It made her short circuit.

“I’m not doing anything.”

Nancy didn't even believe it herself. She could only watch helplessly as Robin swallowed in response, her throat bobbing, and then it was her turn to flick her eyes back up to Robin’s lips. Her fingers twitched where they were still resting on the girl’s jaw.

It felt like something was pulling her to Robin, something deep and real and holy. Mindlessly, without any thoughts of consequence, she closed the last bit of distance between them, elbows hitting the edge of the console as she captured Robin’s lips with her own.

Robin made a little hmmph at the contact, tensing up immediately, and Nancy froze. She wondered if she had just made a grave mistake - that she’d read the signals wrong, and that just because Robin was a lesbian it didn’t mean she liked her- so she backed off, or at least attempted to back off. But Robin stopped her.

“No, I’m - I’m just nervous, Nance,” Robin explained, swallowing, “but I want to do this. I - I’ve wanted to for a long time, actually.”

Oh.

“You have?” 

“Well, yeah.”

Robin was shy, and perfect, and the dim glow of the moon beyond the window illuminated the softness of her cheek. Nancy couldn’t believe how much she wanted her. Couldn’t believe any of it.

So she smiled, and poked Robin’s chest in with her finger, teasing, “You should’ve told me!”

“How was I supposed to know you liked girls? Before now, or before ten minutes ago I guess, you never mentioned anything about that. Not to me. We never talked about those things. And you were…”

“I was what?” Nancy’s eyes darted down to Robin’s lips.

“You always had a guy around you. Steve or Jonathan. I felt, I dunno, inadequate.”

“I don’t want you to think that,” Nancy breathed out, voice gravelly, “I never - I’m not like them.” 

Nancy hoped that Robin would know what it was she really wanted to say, but wasn’t brave enough to. I’m not like them. I never have been. I’m…I’m like you. 

Only it didn't end up mattering . And Robin reached out with her slender fingers to caress Nancy’s face, so she kissed her again. This time, Robin kissed back.

Robin didn’t know how to kiss, which was oddly attractive, but Nancy realized that it would be just as attractive if she did know, too, and that the common denominator through all of this attraction was Robin.

She let Nancy tilt her head where it needed to go, moaning when she coaxed her tongue out from where it laid dumbly in her mouth. She was burning.

“S-sorry,” Robin squeaked, ears red.

“Baby, what are you apologizing for?” Nancy asked, and she could barely recognize her own voice. It was staticy, almost, unreal. She had never wanted anything more in her entire life. 

Letting her hands find purchase on the bony press of Robin’s hips, Nancy clambered over the center console and straddled her. Robin moaned again, this time only a shiver away from a whimper, and bit her lip. 

Wide eyes stared at Nancy, “Um, just - I don’t wanna be too loud. In case I-,” she turned her head, embarrassed, mouth moving too fast for her brain to catch up, “sorry. Don’t know where I was going with that.”

Instead of admonishing her for saying sorry again, Nancy let her hand drift up to cup Robin’s cheek, smoothing her thumb over the softness there. To her surprise, Robin’s tongue snaked out at the first swipe that strayed near her open mouth, licking her thumb.

Her eyes were dark, endless. They reminded Nancy of the black pits that grew around the pumpkin patch last year. 

“I think you know where you’re going,” Nancy said.

Robin laughed a little, “I really don’t. But I wanna…I mean, I wanna find out. With you.”

It was the most romantic thing anyone had said to her in a long time. She felt like she was blooming into herself. Nancy kissed Robin once more, something akin to devotion bubbling between their lips, before she pulled back to ease her thumb into Robin’s mouth properly, gasping lightly when she hollowed her cheeks and sucked hard in response.

“Good girl,” Nancy half-moaned, “God, you’re so - so fucking - fuck.”

Robin had sucked another finger into her mouth, a noise of approval escaping her at Nancy’s words. She was red in the face. Nancy wanted to ruin her.

Once Robin stopped sucking and let the fingers fall gracefully out of her mouth, wetness coating everything, she leaned back in the seat and whined.

Taking note of the slight trepidation doting Robin’s face, Nancy asked, “Is this okay? Do you wanna stop?”

Robin shook her head furiously, “No, no, don’t wanna stop. Just…it’s a lot.”

“We can slow down if you want.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

They went back to kissing, which was good, great even. Nancy tried to set a relatively gentle pace, mindful of Robin’s (very apparent) inexperience, but Robin quickly sped it up, kissing her hard and fast and panting recklessly into the heat of her mouth.

She kept tugging on Nancy’s hips, trying to pull her down further into her lap, which made Nancy giggle. Seeing how wild, how enthusiastic Robin was. 

“Eager, are we?” Nancy teased when they broke apart.

“Sorry. I know you said slow.”

Nancy clicked her tongue and ran a hand over Robin’s front, over the soft material of her sweater. “You don't have to keep saying that, you know.”

“I know.” Robin smiled a bit, eyes hooded.

Another unspoken apology rested on Robin’s tongue. Nancy, knowing she had nothing to apologize for, swallowed it with her own. 

The car was beginning to fog up, and everything was happening all at once. Grinding. Taut. Sighs. Robin groaning when she cupped Nancy’s ass and felt the heat of her press against her stomach.

But nothing was enough. Nancy needed more, something of substance, something to touch.

“Rob. I wanna - wanna touch you,” she admitted, breathless, hands moving to rest on Robin’s waist.

Nancy knew it was the last straw. The final barrier between a really bad decision and the ultimate betrayal. But through the maze of her lust-addled brain, none of that registered. Only the way Robin looked at her in that moment, and the way she worked to strip off her clothes and clamber in the backseat at the same time. 

Robin ended up half-way on top of Nancy, sweater flung in a pile somewhere. Her hair was tousled and her lips were swollen. Nancy kissed her again, slow and leisurely, as if she were trying to map out the intricacies of Robin’s mouth and then commit it all to memory.

A gentle hand trailed down Robin’s chest and stomach, first tweaking a nipple until it pebbled and then playing with the waistband of her underwear.

“That okay?”

“Oh,” Robin said blankly. Wrecked with arousal. “Yeah. That’s…ohh.”

Nancy couldn’t stop herself, her body an inferno. She felt herself grow even wetter as she cupped Robin through her underwear, the palm of her hand hitting the darkest wet spot in the center and then dangerously close to Robin’s clit.

Robin moaned pitifully, and hid her face in Nancy’s neck. Lips found their way to the sensitive spot behind her ear. Another moan followed.

After they both shuffled for a better position, Nancy’s thigh slipped between Robin’s - a natural thing - and Robin’s mouth opened, barely. She felt too self-conscious to make any sudden movements even if every fiber of her being was screaming at her to.

“Um…I,” Robin stared at her, starstruck. 

“You can. I want you to.”

“Can I take my pants off?” Robin asked shyly, consciously, “feel like it would feel better.”

“Yes. Yes. Off. Please.”

Robin obeyed, fumbling with the buttons on her jeans. They took a minute to undo because her hands were shaking so much. Nancy placed her own over Robin’s, teeming with love.

Once Robin successfully removed them, she returned to her spot on top of Nancy, scattering her face with kisses. She could feel a giggle rising out of her throat but quickly suppressed it when Nancy once again pushed a thigh in the heat between Robin’s legs. At the first thrust, she croaked like a frog. 

“That feel good?” Nancy asked.

Robin grunted in assent, too consumed with lust to give a proper response. Nancy’s hands strayed to her hips, and gripped them, tugging almost, a subtle encouragement for her to grind on the offered thigh.

It felt good. Really good, actually. Her clit dragged on Nancy’s bare thigh, and all she could think about was skin, skin, skin . It consumed her. 

She pulled back to kiss Nancy, but ended up just awkwardly panting into her mouth. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Robin kept repeating that same word, in a daze. Nothing on her mind except the chase. It was probably the single most attractive thing Nancy had ever witnessed, ever experienced, and by God was she glad she wore a skirt today because it made things just that much easier. But, on the downside, being able to feel how wet Robin was, got her unbearably worked up - even more than she’d already been.

The grinding, which had started out slow, hesitant, and exploratory, soon picked up speed. And Robin’s whines in Nancy’s ear doubled when Nancy slid a hand between their bodies to stroke Robin, gathering wetness at her entrance and then rubbing agonizing circles on her clit. 

“Not - not fair,” Robin huffed out, mindless.

Nancy kept up the rubbing, ignoring her own burning desire. Robin’s hand wandered to rest on the waistband of her panties and Nancy swatted it away. 

“You’re doing so good. Just a little more,” she encouraged, knowing it would only spur Robin on more and also needing to divert attention off of her subtle rejection, “hey. I got you.”

One more well-timed thrust and Robin choked out a broken, long-winded “ohh” as she came, hips still pumping into Nancy’s hand and thigh, while Nancy moved her other hand up to cradle Robin’s head.

Neither of them said anything after. Robin slumped fully into the crook of Nancy’s neck, boneless and exhausted, breaths coming out hot and muggy. Her underwear was sticky. She hated herself.

Then, three little words slipped out of Nancy’s mouth, unbeknownst to her.

“You’re lovely.”

Robin went stiff as a board at that. It felt like - like something had snapped. Like all of her walls just came crashing down, melting away, as if they were never there in the first place, as if none of this was ever real.

And maybe it wasn’t.

A minute passed before Robin finally propped herself off of Nancy, looking at her clearly for the first time. There was relief on her face, plain and evident, but there was also something darker simmering underneath. And Nancy knew exactly what it was, because it was the same thing reflected in her own eyes:

Terror.

The kind of freight that seized your senses; that made you a slave to your own insecurities. Nancy was all too familiar with that feeling. 

“I -“, Robin sputtered, face on fire, “um..”

The haze of what they were doing had worn off. And now, there was nothing. It was nothing; just a quick fuck, if you could even call it that. God.

Scrambling to get up, to compose herself, Nancy first pulled her shirt down from where it was pushed above her breasts and then put her coat back on. She watched as Robin did the same, eventually settling back to her original spot in the passenger seat. 

When Robin risked a glance at Nancy, she still half-looked like she wanted to kiss her, which was admittedly really sweet, but also punctured her heart and lungs at the same time.

Because Nancy could tell how much Robin needed comfort, reassurance. But she couldn’t give it to her.

So she just drove. Just drove away. Dropped Robin off at her place, made some lame excuse as to why she had to leave. Blaming everyone else. Eradicated by guilt.

The night was silent, looming. Nancy could not put herself back together. Opening the latch of her front door, she crumbled under the weight of her mother’s harsh gaze, her father’s apathy, the bile rising in her throat at the knowledge of what had transpired. 

And how she would be forever unable to get clean.

Chapter Text

“Thanks for meeting me here,” Robin said, twirling the spoon around in her coffee.

Just black, please. With a little bit of sugar.

Nancy watched as she brought the cup up to her lips, grimaced slightly, then seemed to relax once again. “Of course. What did you want to talk about?”

It had been a few days since their reunion at the video store. Nancy was swamped with life, with high school and soon-to-be college, with taking care of Mike and Holly and making sure no one was dead. She didn't exactly have the most time to explore this thing between them, but when Robin asked her if they could meet up at the diner just outside town to “have a proper talk”, well, she couldn’t just say no.

And also, maybe she just missed her. That too.

Robin looked down, an unreadable expression on her face, then said, “I know we haven't really talked about it, or at least I - I didn’t tell you properly, but it really hurt me all those days you ignored me. I thought…,” she sniffed, concentrating on something in the distance, “some pretty bad things about myself. Like, I dunno, that I had corrupted you or something, and you’d hate me forever and go and tell everybody how sick I was.”

Nancy felt something crawl up the back of her throat at Robin’s words. She dug crescents into her palms.

After Robin came, she’d wanted so desperately to hold her, to mutter sweet, soft things in her ear and kiss each individual finger of her hand, but the gesture had seemed…too charged. Too intimate. Too real.

And so she did none of those things, instead making up some bullshit half-baked excuse about needing to get home because her parents were worried about her (which was partially true, if only for one of them).

“I'm, like,” Robin continued, “I’m a lonely person. And I never really had anyone who would - notice things about me or be kind to me. I never thought it would happen. But I felt so beautiful with you, like I was…coming into something. Blooming. When you ripped that away, I felt worse than I ever had.”

Her eyes were foggy as she ended, “I don’t wanna feel that way. After you dropped me off, I went up to my room and I took a shower and I just cried, like, nonstop. I didn’t know what to think.”

Nancy didn't know what to say. Waves of guilt hit her all at once, crescendos.

She extended her hand and brushed her pinky lightly over Robin’s, cotton in her mouth. Robin swallowed, accepting the touch. Took the hand fully in her own.

“It’s okay. I’m okay now. I just…wanted you to know,” a lopsided smile, “I want you to know me.”

I want you to know me.

“Rob, that night, I - I wanted you to touch me. You know that, right? I wanted  - wanted you inside of me. Your mouth on my tits, my thighs, everywhere.”

Nancy spoke in a low voice, glancing around to make sure the room was still (for the most part) empty, that there wasn’t anyone who could possibly listen in on their conversation.

It sent Robin’s head for a spin, hearing that, and she had to fight the urge to jump across the table and take Nancy then and there. But of course, that wasn’t the point. Robin knew that. And after a short time spent processing the implications, she cleared her throat and said dryly, “I know. But you couldn’t.”

“I was - fuck.”

“Because you were with him. Nancy, I never wanted to - to do that. But…I know it's my fault, too.”

“This isn’t your fault, Robin. Stop saying that,” Nancy told her, then added solemnly, “and I’m not - I would never think that about you. You’re not sick. What we did…I wanted it. It was good. You’re good. I just needed time to think. I know it was shitty. I mean, I still can’t even…can’t even say what I am.”

Robin took another drink of her coffee, slender fingers wrapping themselves around the ridges of the cup.

“A lesbian?” Robin ventured. Her heart pounded.

Another glance. “Yeah,” she said, laughing humorlessly, “that's me.”

Nancy felt her hand being squeezed. She looked down, then back up, saw how Robin’s face was softer, open, like she’d melted away all her insecurities.

“Do you wanna get outta here?”

Mike knew it was partially his fault that things had been so off between him and Will. And as much as he wanted to fix it, he couldn’t help but to think there was really nothing he could do.

Because it was one thing if Will was still weirdly jealous of his relationship with El, (although it’s not as if Mike could fix that either) but it was another thing entirely for Will to completely ghost him ever since the movie they watched on Sunday.

Ever since…that thing with Nancy and Robin.

Pacing back and forth in the basement, Mike groaned in a mix of annoyance and disgust at the kissing sounds flowing from Nancy’s bedroom. Before, it was never this loud, and certainly not to the point where he could actually hear anything beyond the four walls.

It confused him. He didn’t know how to feel. Was Nancy lying to him? Had she been lying this whole time? When he asked about Jonathan…did she even try to make it work?

And why didn’t Nancy tell him that she…liked girls?

Again, Mike couldn’t source the feeling in his heart, why he was so torn up about this. It didn’t have to be a big deal. Sure, their parents would freak and Nancy might be ostracized from the Church and society as a whole and then he’d be forced to watch as she lived out the rest of her days as a hermit but -

He sighed. That was ridiculous. And it’s not like her situation had anything to do with him and Will, so why did he always conflate the two?

Mike’s mind flashed back to the blowup he’d had with Will earlier, as they sat outside Hopper’s place.

“What is your deal with me and El?”

Will seemed taken aback, and he said unconvincingly, “I don’t have a deal.”

“Well, you still act really weird around us,” Mike said.

“Because I thought - I thought it’d be different, Mike. Like you guys had turned a new leaf or something. But it’s just more of the same. You’re hurting each other.”

Will’s words burned him. Mike wanted to fight back, to deny it, say they weren’t hurting each other, but the words got caught in his throat. Stuck.

“I just…I know how she is,” Will continued, voice quieter, “and it’s really confusing when you act all distant one day and then clingy the next. And you don’t have, like, open dialogue with each other.”

“Open dialogue?” Mike asked, cringing at the way his voice cracked.

“Yeah. You know, talking about your fears, worries…”

Mike twisted the grass he’d been pulling on until it ripped out of the ground. He examined it briefly, then threw it away, watched as it floated out behind the back porch. He could feel Will looking at him pointedly, waiting for an answer.

“We already did that.”

“Mike, that's not something you just - whatever. It’s fine. Forget I said anything.”

He didn’t forget. He couldn’t. It whirled around in his head, that he'd been a bad boyfriend, a bad friend…

Taken back to the current situation when the sound of banging rang out from above, followed by a squeal and some laughter, Mike huffed out a sigh and began up the stairs, readying himself to confront Nancy.

Turns out, her door wasn’t even closed. Huh, Mike thought, explains the noise.

“Nancy?” Mike called out. He still couldn’t see anything concrete through the haze of Nancy’s room, but he could make out the movement of two blurred figures. 

“Shit,” a voice said, “I thought you said he wasn’t -“

Some more hushed talking, and shuffling, and then Robin finally popped up with her hair mussed and her shirt on backwards.

She looked at Mike, then back to Nancy, concerned.

“Do you want me to - wait?” Robin asked softly, so softly, in Nancy’s ear, fidgety and nervous.

“No, it’s okay,” Nancy said, and kissed her on the cheek, “Go. I’ll call you.”

The affection surprised Mike, although he supposed it was already pretty obvious what they’d been doing. There was no need to hide anymore.

There’s no need to hide anymore.

“Please don’t tell Mom and Dad,” was the first thing Nancy said to him after Robin left the room.

He put his hands up as a gesture of peace, both to assure her that he wouldn’t and also as a way of communicating that that had never even crossed his mind in the first place - because really, what right did he have to tell them, especially when it nearly guaranteed his sister would be shipped off to conversion therapy at the first opportunity their parents got?

“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

Nancy sighed, the tension still not leaving her shoulders, her entire body. She sat back on her bed, bracing herself for the inevitable interrogation.

“So, you probably have questions, huh?”

Mike shrugged. “I’ve had questions since the video store.”

“Yeah, that was…look, I don’t wanna be this way, Mike. But I..I am. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t - I didn’t think I could, and then everything with Jonathan happened and it just…”

Nancy trailed off, face in her hands as she rubbed at her temple. The bed moved as Mike sat down beside her.

“You can tell me,” Mike said quietly, then linked their pinkies together, “friends, right?”

“Yeah. Friends.” Nancy chuckled softly.

“It, uh, started a few months ago. Me and Robin, I mean. I…,” Nancy let out a shaky sigh, “for a while, I just needed time to process what it all meant, and I kinda left them both in the dust, but that’s - not the point. The point is that, you know, this is who I am and I love you but I’m also - I’m scared, Mike.”

Mike flinched a little. Nancy was usually the strong one, the dependable one, the capable one. But in this moment, she needed him. And he had no idea what to do.

“It’s not a choice?” Mike asked, vulnerability obvious in his voice. He swallowed.

“No. No, it’s not.”

He believed her. Regardless of what other people said, their Church, the kids at school - he believed his big sister.

To Nancy’s surprise, Mike leaned over and wrapped his arms tightly around her in a hug, tucking his head into the crook of her neck and exhaling brokenly.

She wanted to ask what was wrong, if he was okay, because it seemed as if the tables had turned and now Mike was the one who needed comfort and consolation. But he just gripped onto her harder when she tried.

“Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Mike said, sniffling, when he finally let go of Nancy, “I’m glad you told me. Or, well, you kinda had to tell me, but still.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Like with school, or…”

Nancy pushed his shoulder playfully. “Like with you.”

Mike didn’t really know what to say to that. He was fine. Only…shit.

“I got in a fight with Will earlier,” he admitted, noting the shocked look stretching across Nancy’s face, “not like a fight fight, just - an argument.”

She hummed. “About what?”

“About El, mostly. Things have been…I don’t know. Strange, I guess.”

The way that Mike was talking, his mannerisms and tone of voice and that shifty thing he did with his jaw when he was nervous, or was thinking about something very deeply, it all reminded Nancy of how she’d been acting for the past, well, few months or so.

So, she decided to poke further.

“Well, what do you mean by ‘strange’?”

“It’s just, I think that I might -“ Mike stopped talking, deflated, “I don’t know. It’s like I can’t tell if what I’m feeling is what I’m actually feeling or just what I think I’m supposed to feel. I love her so much but - what if it’s just because - that day and…everything after?”

Nancy thought of those years with Steve and Jonathan. She didn’t regret them, not exactly, still holding a special fondness in her heart for each boy, but they weren’t…she wasn’t herself. Not fully.

“I think you know when…when you first wake up and you think about them. Before your mind can filter through all the stuff you think you shouldn’t be thinking about, and it’s just nice and quiet. Like that.”

Mike paused for a moment, taking the weight of the words in, “Is that how you knew? With Robin?”

“That was part of it, yeah. But I also…,” Nancy chuckled, wringing her hands together as the memories flooded her mind, “sorry. Um - look, Mike, you shouldn’t put pressure on yourself. To figure anything out. But it’s also important to be honest with the people you love. I mean, have you talked to El about this?”

He shook his head, said quietly, “I can’t.”

Nancy knew, as she had known, why Mike was so tortured over this, and it brought tears to her own eyes, because she’d been in the same boat - and still was. But there was nothing she could say to ease his pain.

And that killed her.

“Nancy,” Mike said suddenly, “what are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know. But…we’ve got each other.”

Mike nodded in assent, taking the rubber band wrapped around his wrist and pulling back, waiting until it hit a certain point then letting go, hissing as it slapped his skin.

It made Nancy frown. She knew Mike liked to do things like that sometimes, these self-soothing gestures, but seeing him hurt himself never got easy.

Putting a hand on his to prevent him from repeating the action, they shared a wordless exchange, charged with everything left unsaid.

He got to his feet and took one last look at Nancy before heading out the door, tapping once, twice on the wood.

Chapter Text

Snuggling deeper into Nancy’s chest, Robin let out a sigh of contentment.

“What are you thinking about?” Nancy asked, tracing featherlight circles on the exposed skin of Robin’s stomach.

Robin made a little noise. “What you said to me at the diner. What you wanted me to do to you.”

“And what did I say?”

A punched-out breath of arousal came from Robin when Nancy took the opportunity to slide a hand under her shirt and fondle a breast.

“I don’t…”

That won’t do. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Instead of responding, Robin kissed Nancy. Softly, with an ease that signaled they’d been doing this for far longer than they actually had.

She was getting better at it, too. At first, she’d been unbalanced, using too much tongue or not enough, but this was just right, and it made Nancy’s toes curl and her heart soar.

But there was something preventing her from just letting go. Letting Robin in.

“Oh. Sorry. I just thought - you wanted…,” Robin sputtered when Nancy stilled her wandering hands.

“I do,” Nancy groaned in frustration, and kissed her on the nose, “I’m just…like, in my head all of a sudden.”

“Oh. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Nancy considered that for a moment. There was a lot of shit going on she couldn’t begin to unpack, and it’s not like she wanted to spill Mike’s secret anyway, even if Robin was the ideal candidate for it.

“I’m scared,” she finally admitted, “for myself and you and…my brother.”

Robin chewed on a fingernail and said nothing. She reached out to place a comforting hand over Nancy’s, who flinched ever so slightly at the motion. It made her stomach twist in fright. If Nancy couldn’t…was this too much for her? Being with a woman?

“I told you how bad it was. How bad it still is. But there’s no other way to be. For me, at least.”

Nancy gave her a half-hearted smile. It did nothing to soothe Robin’s anxieties. And now she was imagining it all over again, the bullying, the taunting.

Carol from the grade above her used to joke that their gym coach would need to install a camera in the locker rooms to prevent peeping - with the obvious implication that she was talking about Robin - and stuff notes in her locker that ranged from a simple ‘dyke’ to more elaborate ramblings about her crushes on the other girls, how obvious she was being.

Looking back, there was nothing she could have done. Such was the way of things.

“You think he’s…like us? With Will?”

“Yeah,” Nancy said, looking away, “I do.”

Robin frowned when she noticed the harsh line forming on Nancy’s forehead. This was obviously a sensitive topic, one she maybe shouldn’t have broached too directly. It wasn’t any of her business, really. She wasn’t family. She was just Nancy’s…well, Nancy’s.

“I haven’t talked to him about it. Not explicitly, anyway. I mean, once that’s out, it can’t go back in.”

“You’re worried you could be wrong,” Robin tried to guess.

“Yeah,” Nancy affirmed, “or that he’ll shut me out. It’s a delicate line, you know?”

Robin took Nancy’s hand and pulled it up to her face, inspecting it. She wanted to kiss every finger, every line on her palm, splay it on her cheek. Hum inside herself, spend the rest of today, tomorrow, the entire week in bed like this.

It’s not like her mom would care, anyway.

She used to nag at Robin for not dressing feminine enough, or eating too loudly at dinner, or making stupid jokes or not getting stupid jokes - for not having friends, for caring too much about school, for not caring enough about school. But then it just…stopped.

“Robin. I’m not gonna do this anymore. You won’t listen, and you just…I’m done. So do whatever you want, okay? Think of it as your birthday gift. Your bastard mother won’t ‘circle around you like a vulture’ anymore. You win.”

“Is - is this about what I said? Because I’m - I’m sorry, mom, I didn’t mean it, I-“

“Robby, stop. Stop crying. It’s fine. I get it. This is hard for me too, you know. But it’s not working. What am I supposed to do with you? And the way you dress, Lord knows who the hell you got that from.”

Robin looked down at her clothes. “This is who I am, Mom!”

Her mother just scoffed, and Robin took the opportunity to storm out of the house.

“Can I stay here?”

Nancy blinked at the raw vulnerability in Robin’s voice. “Of course. We have to get up soon to pick up my brother from school, but -”

Robin grumbled. “Why can’t your mom do it?”

“Because she has this parent-teacher meeting at Holly’s school to attend.”

Nodding, Robin stretched out on the bed, squeezing Nancy’s hand. She felt this…strange sense of peace wash over her. She’d never felt like it before. Special. Found.

On their way to Hawkins High, they stopped at the gas station just around the corner and ran into Eddie, who was loitering outside and murmuring something to himself.

“Eddie,” Nancy said, alerting him to her presence, “are you okay?”

He laughed sardonically to himself, crushing some bug on the ground with the sole of his black-footed boot. “Never better, Nance. Never better.”

“Look, I know it’s…things have been hard, but, I appreciate you being there for Mike. I know it means a lot to him.”

Eddie sucked in a breath, the twitching momentarily ceasing.

He had taken Mike under his wing, sort-of, showed him it was okay to be wacky and queer (in the traditional sense of the word - she thought, anyway) and that there was still hope left, after Will. That there was still a community willing to embrace his more…childish proclivities.

Nancy still felt a bit of guilt for that, for not realizing how much it all meant to him. Maybe if she knew, things would’ve been different.

“He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah. He is,” she agreed.

“Is that Robin?” Eddie asked suddenly, peering out into Nancy’s car. Nancy flipped around and there she was in the passenger seat, the window rolled down halfway. She looked…calm. Content.

Even if Nancy knew that there was no point in lying about why she was here, she felt her throat close up nonetheless, trying to wrangle up some platonic explanation (which probably wasn’t even necessary, because why wouldn’t people assume she was straight? Did Eddie even know she broke up with Jonathan?).

“Yeah, she needed a ride to the school and I was already going there anyway, so.”

Eddie seemed mostly disinterested in this. Nancy felt embarrassment wash over her, drenching.

They said their goodbyes, filling up the gas tank and then getting back on the road. Nancy looked over at Robin, who didn’t look back. “Rob?”

Robin bristled. Her shoulders were stiff, like they had been that night of Steve’s party, before their lives were completely flipped upside down. “Yeah?” “she said, still not looking.

“Is this about what I said? Because I-”

Her shoulders fell again. “No, it’s fine. I mean, you basically called me a poor straggler who needs free rides because she can’t drive, but it’s fine.”

Was she joking? “Robin…”

“I would never hold it against you,” Robin interjected, an earnest lilt to her voice, “wanting to hide. I mean, it sucks, sure, but I couldn’t - I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. You’re, like, my favorite person.”

Nancy watched as Robin fidgeted with the fingers in her lap, her teeth tugging on her lip. Gosh, she was always so nervous. Unsure of her place in the world.

“Do you think I want to hide?” she asked pointedly.

That finally got Robin to look at her. “I mean, it’s different for you. You have things to lose. A support system, people who care about you…I don’t have any of that. People can look at me and just- tell, without me even saying anything, but you- you don’t have to associate with that. With me.

She pulled into the school’s driveway, bustling with kids. Robin thought she saw Mike sitting at the bench, and contemplated whether to wave over at him.

“That’s not true, Robin.”

“Which part?”

Nancy sucked in her teeth. Sometimes it was hard to reconcile with her privilege, how different they were. Her and Jonathan had gotten into their fair share of arguments over it, but they never really resolved anything, both so concerned with wanting to prove their own point. But the bittersweet fondness that settled in her chest reminded her that, for all their grievances, Robin was different.

She bumped hands with Robin, and they interlaced their fingers, "You're right. It is different. And maybe a part of me wants to go back to the safety of Steve Harrington,” Nancy felt her tense up, just barely, so she stroked over a knuckle, calming circles, “but I don’t wanna end up like my mom. I don’t want any of that, the kids, the husband - I have bigger dreams than that. I know I’m lucky, and I take it for granted, having money and my family- but at the same time, it’s so suffocating.”

Robin, who had been staring at her the entire time she spoke, ducked her head down and uttered affectionately, almost absentmindedly, “A lonely princess sitting in her tower.”

Nancy broke out into a smile, “You’re such a dork.”

“Hey. That makes me your knight in shining armor.”

Nancy scanned the area to make sure the coast was clear, then, overcome with emotion, leaned over and kissed her. Robin, surprised, took a second to kiss back, almost like she still couldn't compute that this was just something that happened, now.

It heated up pretty quickly. Robin pushed their noses together, trying to get closer, and Nancy giggled into her mouth and patted her on the thigh, “Down, cowboy.”

Robin groaned and hid her face in Nancy’s neck. Thought about biting it, but that must’ve been too far. And she’d never done that before. Never done a lot before, now that she was thinking about it. What Nancy had said earlier- did she even know the grip she had on Robin? The power?

“I, um. I appreciate you telling me about you. I guess it’s just hard for me to wrap my brain around, ‘cause you’re like - I admire you so much. You’re so fucking badass, like, you can do anything. And so what if people talk? But I…I get it.”

Nancy leaned her head on Robin’s shoulder. “You should admire yourself.”

“Stop.”

“I’m serious. I do. More than you’ll ever know.”

Robin clicked her tongue, trying not to show how affected she was by that. On her next exhale, her breath was slightly shaky, and she silently cursed herself for it.

They pulled up fully, waiting behind several cars. Mike smiled at Nancy as he swept past the line, clambering into the car.

“Hey, Robin,” Mike greeted, slinging his backpack off.

She smiled, turning around in the seat to address him, “Hey, dude.”

The car ride back (Robin caught herself from saying home) was pleasant. Mike seemed to have processed whatever feelings he had towards Robin dating his sister, and there were no more awkward silences as he waited for them to break apart, or stop talking entirely. Briefly, she thought of what Nancy had said. I think he’s like us.

Robin didn’t necessarily have any prescriptions on whether she believed that was true or not, but she trusted Nancy’s judgement. Maybe too much.

Once they parked in the garage, and started to get out, Nancy pulled Mike aside, “Mike, I know this is all new, and it’s been sprung on you, but- are you really okay with this?”

Mike nodded. “I like her.”

Nancy’s subtle smile reached all the way to her eyes. Before she could even think, she was embracing him, tucking his head into her shoulder.

“I got you,” she said, repeating while he kept nodding profusely, “I got you.”

Apparently, Robin missed out on the memo that there was something waiting for her after they sat through another Star Wars movie in the Wheeler basement, because Nancy had pulled her upstairs and started kissing the daylights out of her with a fervor that shook the very core of her being.

“Is the door locked?” Robin asked when Nancy broke the kiss to breathe, lips red, both panting

A simple nod, and then they were scrambling again. Nancy, with a steady grip on Robin’s waist, moved down to her hips, and pushed her onto the bed, delighting in the little oof sound that left Robin, in the way she gazed up all dark and dazed at Nancy.

Nothing was going to interrupt them this time. Not a storm, or her brother, or the disquiet of overthinking.

Nancy adjusted herself on Robin’s lap and bent down, capturing her lips. Robin opened her mouth for her. Nancy’s kiss was sticky-sweet. She wanted to draw the nectar out, from her lips, from between her thighs, wanted it all. Her head spun, thinking about that.

Breaking off the kiss, Robin lifted her arms to allow Nancy to pull her shirt off, liking how coordinated it all felt, like they’d been here a million times before. Nancy sat back on Robin’s thighs, asked, “Can you be quiet?”

Robin’s instinctual answer was a resounding no, but she knew she had to play along, so she made a zipping motion with her lips and threw it away.

Well, Nancy rewarded her with laying fully on top of her, slotting a thigh between Robin’s own, but grinned slyly and called her a dork, a murmur in the shell of her ear. You win some, you lose some.

It was almost instantaneous, Robin’s reaction, her hips bucking up into the firm press of Nancy’s thigh. She bit her lip at the first sound that wanted to come out, probably close to a keening whimper. God, was she this worked up already?

“No,” Nancy said, shaking her head slightly, even as she flexed her thigh some more, “don’t want you to cum like that.”

“I want you to cum.”

It wasn’t a lie, really, but Robin had severely underestimated her brain fog and limited motor skills when Nancy was on top of her (or below her…) and she wasn’t sure if she would be able to hold out long enough to even do that, so.

“Let’s get these off.” Nancy drummed her fingers against the button of Robin’s jeans.

Obeying, Robin unbuttoned her jeans with a speed she was almost impressed by, then grumbled out, “Yours, too,” pouting at the sight of a still-fully clothed Nancy while her pants were rucked halfway down her legs.

Nancy found that amusing, apparently, but undressed, too, until they were both stripped down to their underwear. She just looked, for a second. Soft thighs, soft belly, Robin’s birthmark curled above her navel. She reached out to touch her breast, thumb a nipple, tongue poking through teeth when Robin made a pathetic little whine in the back of her throat.

That determined look in Nancy’s eye returned. Robin tried to rise up and kiss her, but Nancy’s hand pushed her back down.

“Wait. I wanna-“

What? Touch you? Take care of you? Don’t be ridiculous. She was probably just being nice, saying that stuff.

Nancy, taking notice of Robin’s frown, kissed her placatingly, mind-numbingly. Robin forgot everything.

She slinked down Robin’s body, peppering kisses across the expanse of skin offered, and it wasn’t long before Robin’s hand wound in brown curls, gripped, and fell slack against the pillows.