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The world is spinning for Robin Buckley.
She kicks her feet off the edge of the soundboard, sending her rolling chair into lazy circles, while staring up at the ceiling and growing increasingly nauseous. But, she reckons, it’s better to be nauseous than to be lovesick. And, fuck, is she lovesick.
Trust, she’s tried to get over it. She even got a journal to write down her feelings, but then she promptly lost it. She tried to stay away from her, but that’s a little hard to do when you’re constantly saving the world together. She even went and did the impossible: She found possibly the only other lesbian in Hawkins and threw herself at her. Over and over and over. The very definition of insanity. And, sure, Vickie is nice. She’s cute, she’s funny, she’s a good kisser. But she just isn’t Nancy Wheeler.
“Fuck,” Robin groans, pushing herself backwards and rolling across the small broadcast booth.
She sighs, closing her eyes and planting her feet squarely onto the floor, waiting for the spinning to stop. But before it does, there’s a knock on the glass that interrupts her hopelessly romantic—but mostly just hopeless—thoughts.
“Hmm,” she hums, opening a single eye and turning to see who it is. And, of course, it’s Nancy Wheeler. “Oh!” she exclaims, jumping up only to immediately fall onto her ass.
“Robin!” Nancy exclaims, running into the booth and reaching out to help her up. “You okay?”
“Oh, I’m peachy!” she lies. “Just a little dizzy. Must be, uh, the lack of sleep.”
“Steve mentioned you’ve been having some late nights,” Nancy says as she holds onto Robin’s arms to steady her back onto her feet.
Robin tries not to notice the way her skin burns, even through her jean jacket, at Nancy’s touch. She runs a hand through her hair and looks down at her shoes, rubbing the toe of one against the tile and making a squeaky sound.
“That’s why I’m here,” Nancy goes on. “To check in on you.”
“Check in?” Robin asks, lifting her gaze up to meet hers. Which, in retrospect, is a mistake because Nancy’s blue eyes are looking back at hers with such sincerity it makes Robin feel a little sick. Though, that might also still be the after-effects of the spinning chair.
“Steve might have a big head,” Nancy jokes. “But it’s mostly hair.”
It makes Robin laugh despite herself, and Nancy ends up smiling. That soft sort of smile that turns Robin’s knees into jelly. She grips onto the edge of the counter behind her, eyes back onto the sticky floor beneath her as she tries to fight off a blush. It’s a bit futile, though, because now Nancy is standing next to her and pushing their shoulders together.
“Y-yeah,” Robin says.
“So…” Nancy draws out the word. “What’s really going on? What’s got you holed up in the booth for so many nights in a row?”
“Oh, you know,” she chuckles nervously, desperately trying to find something to say. “Just got a lot on my mind with figuring out what I wanna do with my life.”
Yeah, that’s good enough, she thinks.
“When I was a kid I wanted to be a cowboy,” she continues. “But then I met a cow and it chased me for at least a mile. They’re really fast, you know? Thankfully it was more of a calf, but I think it would’ve really done some damage considering I was twelve.”
Nancy’s smile gets wider as she leans back and listens to Robin’s ramblings.
“And then, I wanted to be an astronaut, but when I was sixteen my mom took me to Disneyland and I got sick on the airplane, and I figured a rocketship is an airplane on steroids. And vomiting in zero gravity sounds like a fucking nightmare.”
“That’s disgusting,” Nancy interjects, scrunching up her nose in that adorable way she does. “But you’d make a cute astronaut. Or cowboy. Or anything you wanna be, Robin.”
Cute. The word echoes in Robin’s head as her throat runs dry.
“Ha… y-yeah,” she gulps. “But what I wanna be now… I… I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “I guess I wanna figure it out. And maybe being stuck here every night isn’t the way to do that, but… I can’t leave Hawkins yet, so sometimes I just play music and pretend I’m in a car. Driving far away from here.”
Suddenly, Nancy is frowning. And, somehow, even that’s attractive. How incredibly unfair. “Wait, you’re leaving Hawkins?” she asks.
Robin blinks. “I, uh, I mean, yeah. Eventually.”
I have to, she thinks. Go somewhere I can be myself. Somewhere I don’t have to hide. Somewhere I won’t pine over my best friend’s ex-girlfriend.
“Oh,” Nancy says with a small nod. “Well, maybe when this is all over, you can come with me to Boston.”
Robin’s heart squeezes in her chest at the idea. What sweet torture it would be—to share a small apartment together, to huddle close in the harsh winters, to have no one but each other for company. Oh, what a terrible, terrible idea.
“Boston,” Robin says. “Maybe.”
“Hey,” Nancy whispers, reaching out to touch her hand. Robin lets her interlock their fingers, even if it makes her want to die. “We’ll get through this. I have a good feeling about the next crawl. And then, you can come with me to Boston. Or if not Boston, then wherever you go, I’ll visit. I promise. Whoever Robin Buckley is meant to be, you’ll get to be her.”
“Fuck, Nance,” she sighs. “You weren’t this supportive about Jonathan not knowing what to do with his life.”
“You’re not Jonathan,” Nancy says simply, then shyly ducks her head like she didn’t mean to say that out loud. “Besides, you aren’t just getting high all of the time.”
“Nope. Just sitting in my booth, listening to Whitney Houston and disassociating,” Robin half-jokes. “But I guess I don’t smell like weed, so that’s something.”
“No, you don’t,” she says, then gently bites her lower lip as if trying to keep more words from slipping out. But then, it seems, they come out anyway. “You’re nothing like Jonathan.” Robin’s eyes slightly widen. “Not in a bad way,” Nancy adds. “You’re… so much better.”
“Maybe you should be dating me instead,” Robin jokes without fully thinking. She immediately regrets it, flushing red in sheer embarrassment. “I, uh, I mean…” she stutters. “Th-that would be ridiculous, obviously. We’re both girls and y-you obviously love Jonathan. It was just a joke, but now that I hear it, I realize how weird it is. And inappropriate. Please don’t be mad. I haven’t slept much and I’m living off of Red Bulls and those usually make me very hyper, which is maybe why my mom banned them from the house.”
Nancy doesn’t say anything—just looks at Robin with a cocked head and curious eyes, frozen in place as she listens to the tangle of words that are coming at her. But Robin can tell. She can tell because she knows Nancy now, after all this time. Something else is rushing through her mind, something more important than whatever half-baked explanation Robin is trying to give her.
It’s the same look she gets when she’s writing an article or solving a puzzle or aiming a rifle at a Demogorgon. It, unfortunately for Robin, is the most attractive she ever looks.
Nancy opens her mouth to speak, and Robin holds her breath. But nothing comes out. Instead, Nancy shakes her head, then squeezes Robin’s hand once tightly—before letting go. Robin misses it instantly, and has to stop herself from chasing after it. Instead, she just watches as Nancy walks around the broadcast booth, fingers tracing buttons absentmindedly.
“Nance?” she calls to her. “Everything okay?”
“Do you ever talk to Steve about me?” she asks, which completely catches Robin off guard.
“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” she says, then nervously clears her throat. “From time to time.” She decides not to tell her how much Steve is still vying for her affection—nor how much it kills Robin to sit there and listen to him.
“I’m still surprised you two aren’t a thing,” Nancy says.
“Not my—”
“Not your type. I know,” she interrupts her, still looking around at all the buttons and levers and dials, rather than at Robin. “But he’s everyone’s type. He was mine once too.”
“Uh-huh,” Robin says with a shaky nod. “You two were sort of an It couple. Makes sense, I mean, you’re everyone’s type too.” Wow, she should really learn to keep her mouth shut.
But it’s too late now. Nancy’s head shoots up and she’s spinning on her heel to face her. She takes two quick strides across the broadcast booth until she’s standing squarely in front of Robin—keeping her trapped between the console and her body.
Nancy lifts a questioning eyebrow and asks, “Everyone’s type?”
Robin swallows hard, her cheeks warming at this sudden closeness. This dangerous interrogation.
Everyone’s type, she wants to say. My type. My type. My type.
“I, uh,” she starts, but possibly for the first time in her life, she’s run out of words to say.
Nancy narrows her eyes in thought, and it’s as if she can see right through her. As if she can read her thoughts. Robin almost wishes that she actually could.
End this torture, Nancy, she’s thinking. We suffer enough already.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “You look flushed.”
Robin chuckles softly—anxiously. “I’m fine.”
Nancy nods, then with a noticeable shift in tone, she asks, “Have you ever had a boyfriend, Robin?”
Fuck.
Robin swallows, picking up on exactly what this is: This is Nancy Wheeler, investigative journalist cracking down on a case. And this is Robin Buckley, suspect number one.
She shakes her head no. “Nope. No boyfriend for me,” she says softly.
“But you’ve liked boys, haven’t you?” she asks.
“Well, I…” she starts, trying to mull this over in her head. She doesn’t want to lie, but to tell the truth would be all too damning. “I’ve had crushes before, if that’s what you’re asking,” she says at last. Nice and honest and safe.
“You have one now?” Nancy asks. “A crush?”
Robin nods slowly, her breathing growing more and more unsteady—each inhale a bit uneven, each exhale a little shaky. Nancy doesn’t seem to mind, but she certainly seems to notice. Her eyes drop down to follow the movement of Robin’s chest. She reaches out and places her palm right on her sternum, feeling the rapid pounding of the heart beneath it.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she says, practically a whisper. Looking back up at her, she asks, “Have you ever had a… girlfriend, Robin?”
Robin thinks she may black out. She lets out a laugh in lieu of answering, but it’s just as incriminating as anything else she could’ve come up with.
“No,” she tries anyway. “N-no, of course not. That would be silly, wouldn’t it? T-two girls… Who would pay the bill, ya know?” The joke does not seem to land. But for some unknown reason, Robin can’t seem to stop now. “I mean can you imagine? Sitting there at Enzo’s, waiting for the other to pay up. Or hold the door. O-or you know… just the both of us—I mean, not like. The both of us. Not you and me. I’m just s-saying the hypothetical ‘us’. Me and my non-existent girlfriend.”
She fights the urge to slap herself on the forehead. It helps that when she looks at Nancy, she’s smiling. That soft and subtle smile. That twinkle in her blue eyes. That gorgeous look she gets when she witnesses Robin’s nervous antics. She used to hate it. Robin remembers just how much she used to hate it. But now… now it’s almost like she lives for it.
“That’s easy,” Nancy says. “I would pay the bill.”
Robin is pacing back and forth, replaying the conversation in her mind over and over and over ad infinitum. Ad nauseum.
Surely—surely—Nancy fucking Wheeler wasn’t just flirting with her. Was she? No. No, no way. Nancy who comes from a very nice, very Republican family. Nancy who is dating Jonathan Byers. Nancy who had never even looked Robin’s way until a few years ago. No. There’s no fucking way.
And yet…
Robin flops onto the couch with a huff.
“Maybe I’m losing my mind,” she says to herself. “Or maybe I’ve actually got a chance.”
Meanwhile, Nancy is driving home, hands fidgeting on the steering wheel as she rolls to a stop at a red light. She doesn’t know why she did that. Why she said that. But she’s glad she got out of there as soon as she did, not letting the words and their heavy implications linger too long in the air between them.
She tries to think about Jonathan instead. She knows he’s waiting for her in her parents’ basement. Likely stoned out of his mind, despite the fact that Nancy has told him repeatedly that her mom will smell it on him eventually. But, as he so often says, they’ve got bigger things to worry about.
She eventually pulls into her driveway, only to find Jonathan waiting for her on her porch. She frowns, cutting the engine and stepping out of the car.
“Did you get locked out again?” she asks, but he’s shaking his head as he walks up to her.
“Robin just radio’d in,” he says, and Nancy’s stomach drops.
She has to remind herself that she didn’t actually do anything wrong as she asks, “What did she say?”
“There’s gonna be a crawl tomorrow.”
Nancy cocks her head. “That’s why you’re waiting out here?” she asks. “We’ve done over thirty crawls.”
“I know,” Jonathan says. “It’s not about the crawl. I mean, it is, but it’s about us.”
“Us?”
“Every crawl we do, we get closer to finding this guy,” he explains. “Closer to whatever batshit crazy thing is gonna happen next. And I told myself I was gonna wait until all this was over, but it feels like a cop out. I don’t want something bad to happen without you knowing.”
“Knowing what?” Nancy asks, watching as Jonathan pulls something out of his pocket.
“Here,” he says, handing her a John Coltrane cassette tape.
Robin knows she should go home, but she can barely even consider the thought of sleeping right now. Her mind is still back in the broadcast booth, riddled with the memory of Nancy standing so close—with that soft smile and those knowing blue eyes. With those curls that frame her face so perfectly, making Robin have to physically hold back from burying her hands in them. God, how she wants to tangle her hands in her hair. To pull her close. To crash against her.
Would it really be so terrible?
Yes, it would be. Of course, it would be. But maybe it’s okay to only think about it. Maybe it’s not a bad thing to fantasize. To imagine what Nancy’s lipgloss tastes like, what her whimpers sound like, what her body would feel like pressed against Robin’s.
“Shit,” she mutters to herself, feeling the gentle ache between her legs getting stronger. Demanding some attention. She squeezes her thighs together, and lets out a soft and needy whimper.
She doesn’t do this often. Not anymore. Because the issue is that she can’t touch herself without thinking of Nancy. She’s tried, but every time that she gets close, she hits a wall. And it’s the thought of Nancy—of her eyes, lips, her voice—that works to smash the wall to pieces. It’s Nancy, and Nancy alone, what makes Robin come. What makes her toes curl from pleasure and her throat hurt from moaning. It’s Nancy, Nancy, Nancy. Such forbidden, dirty thoughts of Nancy Wheeler.
Robin sits up and buries her face in her hands, trying to make the thoughts stop. Trying to make the ache dissipate. But she’s so desperate suddenly, so electrified from their last conversation. It’s like her body’s getting away from her. Like it’s being driven by desire, by want, by need. She can feel her clit throbbing, begging to be touched. And, fuck, she feels so incredibly empty inside—walls already starting to squeeze around nothing but her own arousal. It’s driving her insane.
She tries—she really tries—not to think about the moment she first felt like this for Nancy. When she saw her, rifle up and shooting in the Upside Down. It really shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was, especially given the circumstances. But when she looked over at Steve, she knew he was feeling the same. And maybe that’s also part of the issue.
“Fuck you, Steve,” she groans into her hands.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
Robin’s head shoots up and she locks eyes with Nancy, who is standing at the end of the hallway.
“Nancy?” she says. “You came back?”
“Jonathan proposed to me,” she says simply, and Robin thinks she may genuinely start crying. What a cruel and twisted universe this is.
“That’s… great,” she lies.
“He said there’s a crawl tomorrow,” Nancy explains as she walks towards her, each step slow and measured. “That it made him realize he wanted to stop waiting.”
“Makes sense,” Robin nods, trying to focus on keeping her breathing even as Nancy sits next to her. She feels the dip of the couch, and they’re so close now that their shoulders are touching.
“Robin,” Nancy says. “Will you look at me?”
She tears her gaze away from her nervous, clasped hands and meets Nancy’s eyes. They’re darker than she thinks they’ve ever been—inviting and dangerous.
“Should I say congratulations?” Robin asks. “To the future Mrs. Byers?”
Nancy scrunches up her nose. It’s so goddamn adorable. “No,” she says. “You shouldn’t.”
“What should I tell you then?” Robin asks.
“You should tell me what it is you’re waiting for,” Nancy says. “Before the world ends. You should tell me what it is you want.”
Robin shakes her head. “I can’t.”
But then, her eyes flutter shut, feeling the gentle touch of Nancy’s hand on her face. Of those delicate fingers tucking a single strand of hair behind her ear, then moving down to trace her jaw.
“Robin,” she whispers again, and the way she says her name makes Robin want to melt right into her. “Baby.”
“Fuck, Nancy,” she whispers back, despite herself.
They’re so close now—noses almost touching, four eyes fluttering shut.
“I don’t know what this is,” Nancy says. “But if the world is ending, maybe for once, it’s okay not to know everything. Maybe it’s okay to just take what we want.”
“W-what we want?” Robin asks, barely audible past her own heartbeat. Past the blood that’s rushing in her ears. That same blood that’s now pooling between her legs, expounding on that ache to an almost painful degree. “You want…? I mean… I wasn’t sure if you… You've only ever dated guys, and I…”
“You know I love it when you ramble,” Nancy interrupts. “But please shut up.”
Nancy crashes into her and Robin feels like she can finally breathe. Can finally let go. Nancy’s lips are so soft, so inviting. Robin moans into the kiss, letting Nancy slip her tongue inside her mouth. It’s so fucking hot. All of it is. Their mouths and breaths and whimpers.
They kiss desperately, like they’ve been waiting for much longer than the other had been letting on. It makes Robin wonder how long they could have been doing this. How many opportunities did they miss? Whatever the number is, they’re certainly making up for it now.
Robin buries her hands in Nancy’s brown curls as she throws herself at her. As she lets Nancy take the lead, hands wandering down her body and pushing her backwards onto the couch.
They separate, just enough for Robin to look up at her. And with the ceiling light shining through Nancy’s hair, it looks just like a halo. She reaches up to touch her face, to make sure that she’s real. And Nancy lets her, breathing hard as Robin’s fingers trace her face, until they reach her kiss-swollen lips.
Nancy tentatively opens her mouth, letting Robin’s fingers slip in and meet her tongue. Robin takes in the sight—Nancy straddling her, mouth full of her fingers, moaning around them and looking down at her like she’s about to eat her alive. And, oh, how Robin wants to be absolutely devoured.
Nancy pulls back, letting Robin’s wet fingers fall out, a string of spit still tying them together.
“Fuck, Nancy,” Robin says again.
And Nancy doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes, please.”
She leans down and kisses her—her lips, her jaw, her neck. It’s like she’s starving. Robin has never seen her quite like this.
“N-Nancy,” she whimpers. “You feel so—fuck, so good.”
“I better be good at it. I’ve done this in my head a dozen times,” Nancy admits, and it makes Robin dizzy to imagine it. Nancy, lying in bed next to Jonathan, thinking about her. Thinking about this.
“I thought about you too,” Robin says, since they’re way past sharing secrets. “Jesus, I thought about you every time I…”
Nancy pauses, leaning back again, but this time only enough so she can look right into Robin’s eyes. “Every time you what?”
“I…” Robin swallows, and out of pure instinct her hips buck up into Nancy. “Every time I touched myself.”
Nancy smirks. “Oh, yeah?” she asks, snaking her hands between them and tugging up on Robin’s shirt. She drags her short fingernails along her abdomen, leaving goosebumps behind. She moves up, up, up—until she’s cupping her breasts and making her squirm. “Is that what you’ve been doing staying up late here every night?”
Robin shakes her head. “No, I… Well, m-maybe once or twice,” she admits.
Nancy’s hands come right back down Robin’s torso, this time meeting her belt buckle. “Do you wanna show me?”
Yes, yes, yes, yes yes…
“Wait, wait,” Robin says instead, forcing herself to sit up. Nancy leans back with her, still straddling her lap.
“Oh,” she says. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just,” she sighs. “I wanna do this so bad, Nance. I’m so… But we can’t. We shouldn’t, I mean. It’s not right.”
Nancy frowns. “Is this because of Steve?”
“He’s my best friend,” she says. “My only friend basically. Besides you. And I just can’t do this to him.”
Nancy lets herself fall all the way back onto the couch, head on the armrest and her legs extended out at Robin’s sides.
“You’re a good friend, Robin,” Nancy says as she looks up at the ceiling. “Steve is lucky to have you.”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “More than he’ll ever fucking know.” And then she also lets herself fall back.
They lie there together quietly. Aching and throbbing and wanting. Until they both eventually fall asleep.
It’s awkward afterwards. Of course, it is. But they don’t talk about it. It’s not as if they could, anyway, considering how chaotic the crawl ended up being. There is not a single moment of peace, let alone a single moment together.
It’s thrown off the dynamics a bit too. Jonathan thinks Nancy’s left him for Steve. Steve is not-so-subtly throwing himself at Nancy. And Robin is trying to figure out if what happened that night at the Squawk actually happened. Most days, she convinces herself it didn’t. She tells herself it was nothing but sleep-deprived delirium driven by the fact that she’s been avoiding masturbating and thus has all this pent up frustration with nowhere to go but into an uber-realistic hallucination of Nancy Wheeler grinding on top of her. Yes, usually that’s the story she goes with.
But then, Nancy looks at her from across the room. Or their shoulders lightly brush in the back of Murray’s van. Or she says her name just the way she did that night. And she knows. She remembers.
It doesn’t help, either, that Nancy keeps blushing. She keeps holding her gaze just a moment too long. She keeps finding ways to team up together, even on quick missions that could be done alone.
It’s terrible and it’s wonderful and it’s the literal end of the world.
They’re in the Upside Down, waiting at the church for Hopper to pick them up. Steve and Dustin are outside, arguing for the hundredth time today, while Robin sits in the pews—her boots kicked up and eyes glued to the cross at the front of the room.
Nancy slides in next to her, and this is the first time it’s been only the two of them.
“Are you religious?” Nancy asks, nodding towards the cross.
“No,” Robin shakes her head. “Not really. You?”
“I used to be,” Nancy says. “Feels like a long time ago now. Feels like a different version of me.”
“A different version of you,” Robin repeats. “Makes sense.”
“You would’ve hated her,” Nancy laughs. “The old Nancy.”
“No,” Robin says with certainty. “I wouldn’t have. I don’t think I could ever hate any version of you, Nance. It’s just not possible. When I saw you in school and heard about you. Yeah, I thought you were prissy.” Nancy laughs again, playfully pushing their shoulders together. “But I didn’t hate you. And honestly, according to Steve, even that Nancy was all the rage, so… I’m sure if I’d met you then, I still would’ve…”
She freezes, forcing the sentence to die out in her throat. She shakes her head and looks down at her hands, trying to pretend she didn’t just admit to something so much bigger than she can handle right now. But then, Nancy’s hand is sliding into hers, interlocking their fingers.
And without looking up at her, she hears her say, “I still would have too.”
They make their way to Hawkins Lab, which is a trek much less dangerous than anticipated. It seems Vecna has drawn his demogorgons elsewhere for the time being, allowing them ample time to walk across town through the Upside Down.
Dustin takes the lead as he keeps rambling on about a shield generator that needs to be destroyed. Nancy tries to listen, but she keeps getting distracted by Robin, who is walking at her side and occasionally bumping into her. She can’t quite tell if she’s doing this on purpose or if she’s simply trying to avoid the vines that spread throughout nearly every surface of the Upside Down, but she doesn’t mind it either way. Especially when each time they touch, they end up looking at each other and sharing a small and knowing smile.
It’s difficult, however, when Steve is on the other side of her, glancing over and trying to meet her eye too. He’s been doing that a lot lately, especially after news spread that she broke up with Jonathan.
“Nance,” he’s saying now. “When we get to the lab, I think we should split up. Cover more ground to find this generator thingy.”
“Sure,” she agrees. “Girls and guys.”
Robin seems to perk up at this, but doesn’t say anything.
“Oh,” Steve says, clearly disappointed. “I was thinking maybe you and me. Like old times.”
“Or, you know,” Robin interjects. “We can change it up.”
Nancy feels as though Robin has just swooped in and saved her. And to top it off, Robin turns to her and winks. Nancy’s heart flutters in a way it never has for Jonathan or Steve, and it scares her as much as it excites her.
“What? You and me and Dustin and Nancy?” Steve asks, frowning and mouthing a silent What the fuck, dude? that Nancy pretends not to catch.
“Let’s just stick to girls and guys,” Nancy says. “Keep it simple.” And it’s the understatement of the decade.
“So what’s this shield generator supposed to look like?” Robin asks as they climb up the stairs of Hawkins Lab.
“No clue,” Nancy says, flashlight in hand as she opens a door and navigates into a dark hallway. “Guess we’ll know it when we see it.”
“Sure hope so,” she replies, following close behind. Thunder rolls outside, and in the distance she hears the screams of a demodog. Her eyes fall to the rifle that’s secure on Nancy’s back, and she says, “Good thing you brought that gun.”
Nancy smiles, looking back at her and teasing, “Are you scared?”
“Nah,” Robin says. “Never.”
Nancy laughs. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll protect you.”
Robin tries not to let that knock her off her feet. “Look,” she says, pointing at a door. “It’s melted.”
They find the shield generator. Or, at least, they thought it was the shield generator. But after shooting at it and causing everything around them to melt into goo, they reckon that perhaps it’s not a shield generator at all.
It doesn’t quite matter either way, because they’re about to die.
“Well,” Robin says as she climbs onto the conference table, then pulls Nancy up with her. “What do we do now?”
Nancy looks around them, breathing hard as she takes in the melted goo that’s filling up the room.
“I don’t know,” she says, which is not something she’s used to saying. “Fuck.”
“Hey, hey,” Robin whispers, scooting in closer to her. “It’s okay. We’ll get out of this. We always do. We just gotta… we gotta wait for Steve and Dustin. They’re probably on their way up now to come and check on us. And if I know anything about Steve, I know he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to be your knight in shining armor.”
“You’re right,” Nancy says. “I hate that you’re right, but you’re right.”
“Oh, I love that I’m right,” Robin half-jokes. “Steve’s undying love for you is gonna save us both. What’s to hate?”
Nancy laughs, which is ridiculous. How does Robin always make her laugh? Even now, on the edge of death?
Steve does save them. But before then, they talk. They wait. They witness the goo harden before it reaches them, allowing them to walk on it as if it were a marble floor.
“You’re like my lucky charm, Wheeler,” Robin says gently bouncing up and down the new floor, firm where it was once sticky. “I wasn’t so sure we were gonna get outta thi—”
Suddenly, Nancy’s mouth is on hers, kissing her desperately. Frantically. Her hands are in her hair, her body flush against hers and pushing her back until she meets the wall behind her. Robin kisses her back, just as needy, clawing at her clothes to pull her in closer.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Nancy says as she steps backwards. But Robin is following her, pulling her right back into another kiss.
They moan against each other, swallowing these eager, desperate sounds just as they bubble up.
“I know you don’t want this,” Nancy tries again, but Robin isn’t stopping. “I know you said…”
“Fuck what I said, Nancy,” Robin says into her mouth. “We almost died. I think I’ll give myself a pass to kiss you.”
But then, there’s a loud thud that makes them jump apart. And then another. And then a hole in the wall out of which Steve pokes his head through.
If it was awkward before, it’s absolutely unbearable now. They’re both dying to sneak away, to make up excuses to be alone together. To finish what they’ve started. But it’s almost impossible, when they’re still in the middle of a war against Vecna—one, which according to Dustin’s wormhole diagram, could end in the destruction of Earth as they know it.
Still, they manage. In between team huddles, they find supply closets to kiss in. They take useless trips to the basement to push each other up against walls. They’re so fucking insatiable.
Currently, they’re in the broadcast booth, while the rest of the team is out by Murray’s van, receiving their newest set of ‘groceries’.
“You’re really good at it, you know?” Nancy says in between kisses, trailing a teasing hand down her abdomen.
Robin leans back with a smirk. “Kissing?”
Nancy laughs. “Hosting a radio show,” she says with a playful shove of her shoulder.
“Oh, it’s stupid stuff.” Robin shrugs. “It’s not much of an art, really. I’ve always been a rambler anyway.”
“Well, I like it,” Nancy says, fingers hooking onto the loops of Robin’s jeans and pulling her closer. “Your voice is very hot,” she whispers.
Robin blushes, smiling nervously as she averts her gaze and lets out an anxious laugh.
“You’re hot when you get flustered too,” Nancy adds.
“That happens a lot around you,” she says, looking back at her. She finds that Nancy is blushing too. “You look good in pink.”
“I’m not wearing pink.”
Robin smirks. “I know.” And then, she leans in for another kiss. Her mouth moves to her cheek then down her jaw, hands wandering to grip onto Nancy’s waist just as she slips a leg between hers.
“Fuck,” Nancy whimpers, feeling Robin’s thigh right against her center. She looks around, back at the front door, making sure nobody’s about to walk in on them. “We’re terrible,” she sighs. “Like horny teenagers.”
“I think we’re allowed a bit of indulgence, given the state of the world,” Robin argues. “Don’t you think?”
But the thing is, grinding against Robin’s leg like this, Nancy isn’t thinking at all.
“After all of this is over, you should write about it,” Robin says.
She’s lying on the couch, her head on Nancy’s lap. And it’s such a blessing in disguise that it’s so socially acceptable for women to touch this much. And though they’ve never been quite close before, no one says anything about it.
Nancy, who’s been playing absentmindedly with Robin’s hair, pauses and looks down at her. “What?”
Robin shrugs. “Like a book, you know. Obviously change a few facts and names, but the story’s there. And I know fiction isn’t really your thing, but I think you would really do it justice.”
“Have you…?” Nancy starts. “Do you read my writing?”
“Every article,” Robin says. “Wouldn’t miss ‘em.”
Nancy smiles down at her, eyes bright with something that Robin can’t quite name. She’s about to say something more, but then someone else starts talking.
She sits back up, settling next to Nancy who’s still glancing over with that same beautiful smile. It’s like she can’t even help it.
“What?” she whispers to her as people around them start arguing about wormholes and planet collisions and slinkies.
“Nothing.” Nancy shakes her head, trying to focus on the plan at hand. But still, despite herself, her smile remains.
“Ow, shit,” Robin groans as a broom falls on her head. Nancy covers up her mouth to stop from laughing and Robin playfully glares at her. “Don’t laugh,” she whispers. “You’re gonna get us caught, babe.”
“I’m not laughing,” Nancy whispers back, hands cupping Robin’s face and tilting it down just as she stands on her tiptoes to kiss her. “I hate how addictive you are,” she says. “The world’s about the end and all I can think about is when I get to steal you away again.”
“Something must be seriously wrong with us,” Robin says, leaning in for yet another kiss.
“Seriously wrong,” Nancy agrees. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone else before.”
Robin tries not to overthink it.
Nancy is outside of the Squawk, aiming her gun at pumpkins that she’s set up for herself as practice targets. She concentrates, breathing steady as her finger grazes the trigger. This is the only way that she’s found to keep her mind focused, to keep her thoughts away from Robin Buckley.
That is, of course, until Robin shows up and watches her. Nancy feels her chest fill with nerves, her hands growing a bit clammy. She sees her from her periphery, leaning against a tree and taking sips of a Pepsi-Cola can. Her hair is a bit messy still from when Nancy pulled her into a supply closet about an hour ago—a rendezvous that was entirely too short-lived. Damn all these life-or-death interruptions.
These are the thoughts running through Nancy’s head, along with much, much dirtier ones that typically only surface late at night.
Suffice it to say, she misses every shot.
“Shit,” she groans, before lowering her gun and walking over to Robin who’s eyeing her worriedly.
“You okay, Nance?” she asks.
“We have to fuck,” she says.
Robin chokes on her Pepsi-Cola. “Excuse me. What?”
“I can’t focus,” Nancy explains. “You’re too… distracting. And if this is it. This big showdown with Vecna, then I need to be able to shoot without your pretty face in my head.”
“My pretty face?” Robin grins, and Nancy rolls her eyes. “So you think fucking is gonna fix it?”
“I need to just get it out of my system,” Nancy says, but as soon as it makes Robin wince, she knows she’s said the wrong thing. “Robin, I mean…”
“You wanna fuck so you can just toss me to the side after?” she asks.
“No.” Nancy walks right up to her, setting the gun against the tree and looking back at the building, before taking her hand. “No,” she repeats. “I don’t want to toss you aside. I want… I want to explore this. Whatever this is. When we get out of it, I wanna take you to Enzo’s.”
“And pay the bill?”
Nancy laughs. “And pay the bill,” she agrees. “But right now… Babe, I don’t know how to say it delicately.” She leans in, pressing Robin up against the tree as she gets close enough to whisper in her ear. “You have made me so excruciatingly horny.”
“Fuck.”
“And I just need to get this… this…”
“Orgasm?” Robin supplies, her head swimming with the image of Nancy coming undone for her.
“Yes,” Nancy says. “That’s what I need out of my system. But I… I need it fucked out of me. And I need you to be the one to do it.”
“Where would we even do that?” Robin asks. “And when? And how? And… Shit, Nancy. You think I’m not horny too? I’m fucking soaked whenever I’m around you. And when you look at me, I… It takes everything in me not to just steal you away every single moment. And when they look at you. Jonathan and Steve… Nancy, I just wanna strangle them. They’re good guys. They’re great guys. But I want you all to myself.”
Nancy’s eyes are dark with need, with hunger. “Jesus Christ, Robin,” she groans, grabbing onto her jacket. “You’re not helping my situation here.”
“It’s cute when you’re horny,” Robin says. “You get a little feral.”
“Robin Buckley,” Nancy growls, but there’s a small smile on her lips. “If you don’t fuck me, I’ll go do it myself.”
She pushes her up against the tree one last time, leaning in and kissing her. But it lasts less than two seconds. Just a peck. A tease. And now she’s walking away.
Robin, of course, runs after her.
“Where did you tell them we’re going?” Robin asks. She’s sitting in Nancy’s passenger seat, feet tapping nervously on the dashboard.
Nancy leans over and pushes her feet down, then says, “To get El more snacks for her battery. Apparently an apocalypse doesn’t stop teenage boys from having bottomless pits for stomachs.”
“So what, we’re fucking at the grocery store?” Robin asks. “What, like, in the parking lot?”
“I… I don’t know, Robin,” she says. “I didn’t think this through. I just needed to be alone with you, and then we could figure out the rest of it.”
“My, my, Nancy Wheeler, where’s that type A personality?” Robin teases. “Since when do you do things on a whim?”
Nancy playfully smacks her arm, making them both laugh. “Since you’ve been taking over my mind, you massive flirt.”
“How am I a flirt?” Robin demands to know.
“You think I don’t see the way you look at me? And in the Upside Down, the way you bumped into me every two steps?”
“It’s uneven terrain!” Robin argues.
“Oh, so you don’t have this massive crush on me, then?” Nancy says with a smirk. “Aren’t I everyone’s type?”
“Ugh,” Robin groans. “Don’t fucking remind me. Those boys are obsessed with you.”
“Too bad you’re the one who’s my type then, isn’t it?” Nancy says with a quick wink.
“Now who’s a massive flirt?”
They load up on Eleven’s favorite snacks, then start their drive back, both of them quickly running out the ideas of how on Earth to squeeze in a quick fuck before the start of the mission to end all missions.
Nancy lets Robin drive, even though she doesn’t have a license yet because, honestly, there’s not much she would deny her at this point. And, for some strange reason, Robin thinks her bad driving will impress her.
It doesn’t, but it is amusing. And so, Nancy looks over as Robin takes the steering wheel and pretends to know what she’s doing. It’s so unbearably adorable that it somehow goes back around to being hot.
“Hey, Robin,” she says suddenly.
“Mhm?”
“Pull over.”
“Shit, you’re not gonna puke, are you?” Robin winces. “Is my driving that bad?”
“Yes,” Nancy says sincerely. “But lucky for you, I don’t get car sick. Now pull over. Off the road, behind that sign.”
Robin does as she’s told, parking the car behind a giant ad for Turnbrow Realty. She turns to look at Nancy who’s giving her a sly smile and a knowing look.
“Here?” Robin says, mouth agape. “Babe, if we get caught—”
“We’re not going to get caught,” Nancy reassures her. “If we can get away with drugging and kidnapping an entire family, we can get away with an off-road quickie.”
“I love how romantic you are.”
“Shut up,” Nancy laughs, then gracefully slides into the backseat. Robin follows, slightly less gracefully, plopping down next to her.
They look at each other for a moment, both suddenly too nervous to do anything. All that sneaking around, making out, and teasing—it’s led to this, and suddenly, they’re paralyzed.
“I’ve never done this before,” Nancy whispers, her voice missing that air of confidence it always seems to have. “I mean, not with a girl.”
“I know what you mean,” Robin says. “I haven’t either. But, Nancy, if… If we die tomorrow…” Her voice breaks on the last word.
So, Nancy finishes the sentence for her. “Let’s die without regrets.”
Robin initiates, kissing Nancy as she slides both their jackets off. It’s slow at first, even intimate. Tentative and nervous. But the more they kiss and undress and touch, the more that they let go. The more they give in to the thrumming between their legs, to the ache they carry deep inside, to this insatiable hunger to consume each other.
Robin undoes Nancy’s pants, pulling them down and throwing them onto the floorboard. And at once, Nancy wraps her legs around her, pulling her in close—Robin’s belt buckle pressing right up against Nancy’s soaked panties.
They moan together as they writhe against each other, hands gripping onto locks of hair and hips bucking fervently. They’re kissing still, not wanting to waste a single stolen moment. Every breath, every whimper, every moan. They need to share it, to swallow it, to feel it reverberate inside of them.
“T-touch me,” Nancy moans. “Baby, p-please…”
Robin slides a hand between them, until her fingertips are right against her panties.
“Holy fuck, Nancy,” she breathes. “You’re soaked.”
“Mmph,” she whimpers. “I-I know. I don’t think I’ve ever—ahh—been this t-turned on before. I feel like I could come just by kissing you.”
Robin tries very hard not to let that feed her ego. She’s only partially successful. “Should we test that theory?” she teases, leaning into another needy kiss. A kiss with tongues and teeth and a desperation neither one of them quite knows what to do with.
“N-no,” Nancy whines. “Robin, I need you to… Please just…”
Robin slides Nancy’s ruined panties to the side, then dips her fingers right into her core. Into her wet folds. Into her tight and needy cunt.
“Oh, f-fuck!” she moans, nails gripping onto Robin’s shoulders and hips grinding up to meet her hand. “Shit, shit…”
“You’re so tight, baby,” Robin says. “So fucking wet.”
She slides in deeper, Nancy’s pussy taking her inch by inch. Two fingers, long and dexterous and perfect. She pulses around them, her walls squeezing in utter reverence.
“Is this what’s been distracting you, Nancy?” Robin asks. “Thoughts of this? Of me fucking you?”
Nancy nods her head, letting out a throaty, “Uh-huh.”
“Now you’re the one who’s gonna be distracting me,” she says. “I don’t think you have any idea how pretty your moans sound. They’re gonna be in my head for the rest of my life.”
“G-good,” Nancy says. “Because after this is all over, I want you n-nice and pent up for me.”
“Fuck,” Robin sighs, her fingers now moving in and out of Nancy’s cunt.
“I’m—mmph—I’m going fuck you in my bed,” Nancy goes on. “In y-your bed. In y-your recording booth. Everywhere….Fuck! I’m g-going to—ahh—I’m going to turn you into such a good girl for me.”
“Holy shit, Nance,” Robin groans, nodding her head as she leans in for another kiss. “I’m already your good girl.”
Nancy smiles against Robin’s mouth, the heels of her feet pushing hard on her lower back and driving those fingers even deeper. She moans as she feels Robin fill her up to her cervix, enjoying the feeling of being full—but not too full. No, no. It’s just right. It’s so perfect.
“I’ve needed this,” Nancy groans as her walls clench hard around Robin. “Fuck, baby, I think I’ve—mmph—needed this for years.”
“I’m right here,” Robin says, grinding down into her, the palm of her hand pressing just right against her clit.
“Oh, y-you’re going to make me come,” Nancy whimpers. “Don’t stop. Be my g-good girl and keep going.”
This invigorates Robin. It makes her frantic. Makes her so, so eager to please—to be called a good girl again, to earn her reward.
She fucks her harder and faster, her free hand lifting up Nancy’s shirt so she can kiss along her breasts. She leaves behind mouth-shaped bruises that no one else will ever get to see. She bites and sucks on skin. She runs her tongue up, tasting her sweat, then swirls it around her pebbled nipple. And then the other. Over and over, like she’ll die if she doesn’t worship her. And, you know, maybe she’ll die anyway. Maybe she’ll die tomorrow. But at least she’ll have died knowing what it feels like to let herself love Nancy Wheeler.
The word paralyzes her the moment that she thinks of it. Love. That terribly terrifying monosyllable. But she has no time to process it, because now Nancy is coming in her arms—hard and loud and unabashed. She’s clawing at her back and throwing her head against the seat, her back arched and toes curled. She’s moaning out a string of sounds so delicate and perfect, her pussy walls clenching in rhythm with the bucking of her hips. In such a perfect, beautiful synchrony. It washes over her until she’s panting, sweaty and dizzy—and looking up at an awe-struck Robin.
She pulls her down and they kiss, open-mouthed and messy. And with their chest pressed together, it’s like their frantic heartbeats almost touch.
“You’re so beautiful when you come,” Robin says.
Nancy smiles, flushed and giddy from the endorphins. “You’re so beautiful all the time.”
They head back to the Squawk, this time with Nancy driving. All the while, Robin shifts in her seat, horny and unsatisfied and uncomfortable. She’s soaked right through her underwear, thighs slick with it. And she’s buzzing—every touch electrifies her. Even the gentle, absent-minded stroke of Nancy’s thumb across her hand.
Nancy glances over at her, knitting her eyebrows together at the sight of just how obviously flustered and frustrated her passenger seems to be.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” she says. “I know you’re all pent up.”
“I-I’m good. Great, even!” Robin exclaims a little too excitedly. “Am I just one touch away from coming all over myself? Yeah, sure. But we’ve already taken way longer than is reasonable for a snack run, so I get it. No worries.”
“I’m going to make it up to you,” Nancy promises, squeezing reassuringly on Robin’s hand.
“After we save the world,” Robin says.
“After we save the world.”
The entire team decides to spend the night at the Squawk, since it’ll make it easier to head out together early in the morning. They sleep on the couches and makeshift beds throughout the studio. Some even out in the back of Murray’s truck.
“You should take the couch,” Steve says to Nancy.
“Oh, no, Robin should take it,” she suggests instead. “This is basically her house of sorts. It feels wrong to make her sleep on the floor.”
“I don’t mind,” Robin says sincerely. “You should take the couch.”
They go back and forth like this for a while, until at last, Jonathan chimes in with, “You should both just share the couch. Just take the back cushions off and it’s basically a twin bed.”
“Sharing a twin bed,” Robin says quietly to herself, but Nancy is close enough to hear.
She grabs onto her arm and pulls her away, right as Steve and Jonathan start taking the cushions off for them.
“We don’t have to share,” Nancy says. “Seriously, you just take the couch. I can sleep on the floor next to you.”
“You think I’m scared of cuddling, Nancy Wheeler?” Robin jokes in a whisper.
“No, you doofus.” She gently pushes her back, while looking around and making sure no one is in earshot. “I think you’re incredibly horny and spooning isn’t going to help the situation,” she whispers.
“I know you’ve only ever dated dudes, but unlike them, I can actually control myself,” Robin says.
“Right, of course,” Nancy nods. But then she bites her lower lip in thought, before adding, “But can I?”
They lie awake together, curled up against each other under the covers. Robin sneakily snakes an arm around Nancy’s waist and buries her face in the back of her hair. It’s nice. It’s safe here in the dark, with nothing but soft breathing and light snores surrounding them.
Nancy interlocks their fingers and it feels nice. Their final night together, before everything falls apart. It feels as though they really are together, doesn’t it? Like nothing else matters. Maybe this idea wasn’t so bad after all.
But then Nancy pushes herself backwards, her ass pressing against Robin. And all at once, there’s a shot of pleasure that runs through her. It’s not anything near good enough, but it draws a stifled whimper out of her.
“Sorry,” Nancy whispers.
“It’s okay,” Robin whispers back, right into her hair. “Are you having trouble behaving?”
“Are you calling me a brat?”
Robin chuckles softly. “You’ve got me all pent up and now you’re teasing me. That’s pretty bratty to me.”
Nancy scoffs. “I apologized. I didn’t mean to tease you. You just…”
“I just what?”
“You feel good,” Nancy admits at last, then turns around to face her. And in this tiny couch, they may as well be on top of each other with how close they are. “But I’ve also been thinking.”
“What about?”
“It isn’t fair that I got to clear my head and you didn’t,” Nancy says. “If you die out there tomorrow because you’re too horny to focus, what kind of friend would I be?”
Robin laughs, trying to focus on the absurdity of the hypothetical rather than the heavy weight in her chest that’s been dropped at the word friend.
“You wanna sneak out to the car?” Robin asks.
“Murray’s out there,” Nancy reminds her. “He could catch us. And besides…” She leans in even closer as she says this, their chests now pressed together with nothing but the fabrics of their shirts between them. “I can’t wait that long.”
Her hand travels down Robin’s body, so tentatively slow to keep the covers from rustling too much.
“Jesus Christ,” Robin gasps at the realization of what’s about to happen.
She understands now why Nancy was so adamant that none of the kids slept in this room. And why she drove Steve away, telling him she wouldn’t be able to sleep with his loud snoring. She even tried to convince Jonathan to stay upstairs to monitor the radio, but Dustin had volunteered in his place.
“You have to be quiet though,” Nancy whispers. “You have to be my good, good girl, okay?”
“Mhm,” Robin hums softly, already spreading her legs enough for Nancy to be able to slide between them.
Her fingers meet the fabric of her pajama shorts, dipping past the waistband and down to meet her throbbing center.
“Fuckkk,” Nancy hisses as she makes contact with Robin’s wet folds. “You poor thing. I should’ve taken care of you.”
Robin nods. “Take care of me now. P-please…”
And Nancy does. Oh, how she takes care of her. How she rubs gentle circles around her clit. How she presses against her entrance. How she slides in nice and slow and eager. She fills her up so good, the heel of her palm pressing against her swollen clit with each subtle movement.
Meanwhile, Robin shudders against her, moans muffled by Nancy’s free hand.
“That’s it,” she whispers into her ear as she fucks her. “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Just like that. Good girl, good girl.”
Robin’s hip buck involuntarily, begging Nancy to go faster. To go harder. To pound her into the couch. But, of course, she can’t.
“Oh, baby,” Nancy coos. “So desperate. I’m sorry. This is all that I can give you right now. But I promise. When we get back, I’m going to fuck you so good. I’m going to bend you over and push you down against my mattress. I’m going to pound this needy pussy of yours just like you deserve.”
Robin’s mind is made of mush. Never did she think that Nancy fucking Wheeler would be dirty-talking in her ear, while simultaneously being knuckles-deep inside of her. It’s so absolutely, insanely overwhelming. So much so that this is what makes her spill over—seeing this side of her. This filthy, shameless side that nobody else gets. This piece of her that’s wholly reserved for Robin.
Yes, this is exactly what makes her come—in waves that knock right into her. With pleasure that rolls out in clenches and stifled whimpers. An orgasm that washes over her and makes her body tense, before releasing all at once. Over and over. Right here, in this tiny couch, around Nancy’s fingers, enveloped in this warmth she’s never felt before.
Nancy takes her hand off of Robin’s mouth, but before she can say anything, she kisses her. It’s soft and slow. Quiet, despite how badly they want to moan against each other's mouths.
“That was… fuck,” Robin pants, still shaking from the aftershocks of it.
Nancy gently slides out of her, then brings her fingers up to suck them clean.
“Jesus, Nancy,” she sighs. “I feel sorry for all the boys who’ve lost you.”
And almost immediately she feels bad for saying that. She feels guilty—not so much for Jonathan who is still fast asleep on the floor next to them, but for Steve. Steve who’s heartbroken and lovesick and dreaming of his very own version of Nancy. One that won’t ever exist again.
Nancy seems to sense the shift, because she says, “Hey, you okay?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, just…” She shakes her head. “You tired me out, I guess.”
Nancy can tell there’s more she isn’t saying, but decides not to push it. Instead, she asks, “Could you hold me the way you were before?”
Robin smiles. “And you’ll behave this time?”
“I’ll behave,” she smiles back.
The next day, they save the world. They do not die. Not Nancy at least. And not Robin. No, they come back home. Hurt and traumatized, but back home. But some of them do die. Some of them will never return. And the pain of that will stay with them for the rest of their lives.
TWO MONTHS LATER.
“I thought you’d call me sooner,” Nancy says finally—something she’s clearly been holding onto for some time. “I thought you’d come and see me.”
It’s the middle of the night and they’re sitting atop the Squawk on a picnic blanket.
Robin nods, knees pressed up against her chest and arms wrapped around her legs. “I wanted to.”
“I came to see you,” Nancy says. “Or I tried to.”
“I heard,” Robin says. “I’m sorry. I just needed some time.”
“We all needed time, Robin,” she spits back. “But you know what else we needed? Each other.”
Robin runs a hand across her face and groans. “Nancy, please. I can’t do this.”
“Then why am I here?” she asks. “Why bring me up here, if you can’t even talk to me?”
“Because I missed you!” she says at last. “I missed you, Nancy. I wanted to see you. T-to kiss you. Fuck. I wanted so badly to just fall into your arms and cry and fall apart and…”
The tears come unexpectedly, rushing out all at once in sobs and sniffles until Robin is getting exactly what she’s wanted: Nancy wrapping herself around her, pulling her close and letting her grieve. Actually, properly grieve.
Nancy cries with her, holding her against her chest and whispering over and over. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Robin shakes her head, somehow finding the strength to peel herself away. “Nancy, I’m so lost. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you. I know how much he meant to you too.”
“He was my friend,” Nancy says with a nod. “He was a good friend.”
“He was in love with you,” Robin reminds him. “So stubbornly in love with you. And I knew that. And I still… We…”
“Robin,” Nancy says. “Baby, listen to me. What we did together. That had nothing to do with Steve. It had everything to do with us. With how we felt. With what we needed from each other.”
“And what do you need now, Nance?” she asks.
I need you, she wants to say, but it feels too heavy. Too real. Instead, she says, “I need to know what’s going on inside your head. I haven’t seen you for months. I need to know that you don’t hate me.”
“I could never hate you,” Robin reassures her. “Never.”
“Then why have you been avoiding me?”
Robin sighs, wiping her tears away with the back of hand. Nancy reaches out and gets the ones she’s missed.
“I felt guilty,” she says finally. “When Steve… Right before…”
“It’s okay,” Nancy says, rubbing gentle circles on her back.
“The last thing that he did..,” she goes on. “…was turn to me and say ‘Please take care of her.’” She lets the words hang momentarily in the air, before adding on—as if an explanation is even needed, “As in take care of you, Nancy.”
“Well, then, take care of me, Robin!” she says as if it’s that simple. As if Robin isn’t pathetically in love with her.
“Yeah, somehow, I don’t think fucking the love of his life is what he had in mind.”
“I’m not his,” Nancy reminds her. “I’m not Jonathan’s. I’m not even yours. Fuck me or don’t fuck me, but please give me my friend back.”
Oh, and now it’s Nancy who’s crying, sobs wracking her tired body. Robin blinks, before reaching out and comforting her. She opens up her arms, and Nancy falls right into them, gripping onto her shirt as tightly as she can.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
They lie on the picnic blanket, wrapped up in each other as they look up at the starry night sky that hangs above them. Nancy is tucked safely under Robin’s arm, her head resting snugly on her chest and her hand tracing mindless circles on her sternum.
“I want to take care of you,” Robin says softly into Nancy’s hair. “I really do.”
Nancy shifts, turning her face up to look at her. Their noses brush and it makes both of them blush.
“I want to take care of you,” Nancy says.
“I’m scared that maybe we don’t mean the same thing,” she whispers. “And if that’s the case, then I can’t… I can’t keep my promise to him. And that’s what terrifies me. That if you don’t feel the way I feel, then I… I don’t know if I can stick around and watch you fall in love with other people the way that he did. I’m just not that much of a masochist.”
“I think the Earth constantly about to end may have played a role in his masochism,” Nancy half-jokes. “But I know what you mean.”
“I will always be your friend, Nancy,” she says. “If you need someone to hide a body or break you out of federal prison, I’m your guy. I’m there for you.”
“And if I need someone to come to Enzo’s with me?” she asks. “If I need someone to hold my hand under the table and fuck me in the car? If I need someone to take me on a picnic under the stars? Someone to fall in love with me? Someone to call mine? And if I need that someone to be you, Robin? What then?”
Robin smiles, eyes twinkling with tears and hope and anticipation. Her heart is frenzied, absolutely rattling in her rib-cage.
“Then I’ll gladly be that person for you, Nancy,” she says. “I’ll go on dates and fuck you and… and love you. I’ll do all those things because…” She takes a deep breath, settling her nerves, then says, “Because I already am in love with you.”
The next thing she knows, Nancy is leaning in. But not only that, she’s climbing on top of her, pinning her hands down and kissing her. It’s desperate. Of course, it is. After two months of nothing, this is all that’s been pent up and ready to implode within them. All this emotion, this desire, this love.
Does Nancy love her back? It sure feels like it with the way she’s kissing her as if it’s what she's been put on Earth to do.
The night is warm, but Robin shivers anyway when Nancy pulls her shirt off. Still, she doesn’t complain. And she doesn’t complain either when she takes off her shoes or pulls off her pants. No, how can she complain, when she’s being blanketed by the warmth of Nancy’s body atop her? By the heat of those open-mouth kisses that travel across her skin?
She takes her time with her, kissing every inch. Moaning as she does. Saying things like, “I’ve missed you,” and “You’re perfect,” and “My good, good girl.”
Meanwhile, Robin squirms underneath her, her body burning with each touch of her lips and swipe of her tongue. And when Nancy takes a nipple between her teeth, she can’t help but tangle her fingers in those beautiful brown curls to keep her close. And close is exactly where Nancy wants to be. She’s not going anywhere else tonight.
She keeps kissing down her body, along her torso and all the way to her hips. Robin’s legs fall open in ultimate surrender. In submission. In whatever it is you want to call it. She offers herself up to Nancy in a way she’s only ever dreamt about. And Nancy takes her eagerly—hungrily.
They’re discovering this together. It’s trial and error and guidance through the sounds that Robin makes each time it feels good. It turns out, Nancy is a very fast learner, because soon enough she’s swirling her tongue around Robin’s swollen clit and curling two fingers inside her, while staring up at her and witnessing just how much of a mess she’s turning her into. A gorgeous, perfect fucking mess.
Robin comes in Nancy’s mouth, and she doesn’t need to open her eyes to see the stars. Her hips buck up with each cum-clench that rolls out of her. And with them, a moan echoes through the field around them.
When she’s settled down, Nancy kisses her way back up to Robin’s mouth, where she lets her taste herself. Robin wraps her arms around her, needing to feel her close still. Nancy lets her.
“I love you too, Robin,” she says into their kiss. “Of course, I love you too.”
Enzo’s, it turns out, has the best tiramisu in the entire universe. It also has very long tablecloths that allow for secret hand-holding. And a dark parking lot for things a little more scandalous than hand-holding. All in all, it’s the perfect place for a first date.
And yes, Nancy pays the bill.
TWO YEARS LATER
“Fuck,” Nancy moans, holding tightly onto the headboard as Robin fucks up into her.
They’re in their shoebox of an apartment in Boston, Massachusetts—snowed in for the third day in a row and finding creative ways to keep each other warm.
Robin is lying on the bed, hands gripping onto Nancy’s hips as she drives the strap up into her cunt. Over and over. Each time she gets rewarded with another moan, another curse, another moment closer to making Nancy come undone.
Her boobs bounce with each movement, and eventually Robin can’t take it anymore. She has to reach out and take them on her mouth, to feel her nipples harden against her tongue. She sits up, wrapping her arms around her to keep her close. Nancy moans loader at the sudden shift, hands now in Robin’s hair and head thrown back in pure ecstasy.
At this angle, every jerk of Nancy’s hips ends up adding pressure right against Robin’s center. And though she’s already come—twice—tonight, the sensitivity of her still-swollen clit only brings her rest much closer to the edge.
Nancy must be able to tell because she says, “Baby, are you getting all worked up again?”
Robin nods wordlessly in response.
“I’m c-close too,” Nancy whimpers. “Why don’t you—ahh—be a g-good girl and come with me?”
“You want my c-cum, babe?” Robin asks, now kissing her way up to Nancy’s exposed neck. “You’ve already—mmph—made me c-come twice.”
“Maybe I’m greedy,” Nancy says.
And it makes Robin laugh. “Spoiled more like,” she teases.
“You love it,” she snaps back, just as she grinds her hips, knowing how good it’s making Robin feel. “You love me.”
“Shit, you know I do,” she whimpers. “I r-really fucking do.”
Nancy rolls her head back, giving Robin even more access to her neck. And as she does, she scratches at her scalp, encouraging her to keep going. Meanwhile, with one hand around Nancy’s waist, the other is coming up to cup her breasts and pinch her nipples—all while Nancy keeps bouncing up and down in her lap.
“Please t-tell me again,” Robin pleads. “That you want my c-cum…”
“Mhm,” Nancy hums and Robin feels the vibration against her lips. “I’m—aahh—so close. And I’m about to come s-so hard, but I n-need… oh, I need your cum, baby. I need to h-hear you… see y-you… Fuck, my good girl. My good, horny girl c-coming for me. Please…”
The filth behind the words encourages Robin to bite down on Nancy’s neck. To suck on the skin and leave a bruise. And she knows that Nancy will have to hide it when she goes back to school on Monday. She’ll have to wear concealer or wrap a scarf around her neck. But it doesn’t bother her. She doesn’t mind it. If anything, it exhilarates her to know that this is yet another secret that they share with each other and absolutely no one else.
“Your good girl,” Robin agrees. “I’m anything you want.”
“Mine,” Nancy manages between her moans. “All mine.”
“All yours, baby,” Robin agrees again. “All fucking yours.”
And then, she grabs onto Nancy’s hair and pulls her face towards her. They meet in a messy, wet kiss just as she drives the dildo up one final time— even deeper than it was before. Nancy clenches around it, trembling in Robin’s arms and moaning into her mouth. Robin keeps her, as if suspended in the air, and Nancy’s body tenses up—pent up and wired, before letting go of that built pressure in the form of involuntary bucking of her hips. It’s a chase for more, for pleasure, for release.
Robin feels the way Nancy’s body twitches, her movements pressing the toy right up against her clit just how she needs it. And then, all at once, she’s coming. So obediently, so suddenly. A ripple turning into a tidewave.
Nancy, as promised, comes with her—hard and messy, around the plastic toy and all over Robin’s lap. She comes in waves that wrack her entire body, until she’s collapsing against Robin, who holds her nice and close throughout every bit of it.
They come together, wrapped in each other’s arms. They come while whimpering and panting into open-mouth kisses. They come while trembling against each other, sweat and cum and spit mixing between them.
And then, in the aftermath, they pant. They smile. They kiss—soft and lazy as they try to catch their breaths.
“I love you,” Nancy says. “So much.”
Robin smiles, deepening their kiss. “I love you,” she says back. “From now until the end of the world.”