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Robin can tell the moment Nancy steps through the door that he’s had a bad day.
She doesn’t slam the door, doesn’t huff under her breath, doesn’t kick her shoes off angrily. No, Robin has just spent so much time with him that they’ve picked up on his quirks. It’s the way Nancy enters and shuts the door behind him without saying a single word. Normally, Robin would get at the very least a quiet “hi”, but not today. They linger on the couch for a bit longer, listening idly to Nancy rummaging through the kitchen in their shared flat, still soaking in the warmth of the blanket draped loosely over their body. When the shuffled movements quiet in the other room, Robin finally extracts themself for their cocoon, briefly stretching their arms over their head with a satisfying pop.
Robin pads softly over to the kitchen, one hand reaching up to scratch at their stomach as they fight back a yawn. Their sleepy face melts into something fonder when they spy Nancy sitting in one of their dining room chairs, slumped over the table with their head resting on their arms. A forgotten mug of water rests by them, stationed atop a thin coaster. Robin takes a moment to just absorb the image set before them with a small smile before remembering why they’d gotten up from their comfy nest.
They slowly approach Nancy, footsteps sure and purposefully loud enough to alert him to their presence. Robin sees their shoulders bob with a deeper sigh as they sit beside him.
“Hey.” Robin says softly, raspy voice burred thickly with sleep. “Touch or no touch?”
Nancy reaches out blindly, still not picking her head up, until her hand finds Robin’s shoulder. The thin hand traces down the length of their limb until she makes it to their hand, where she quickly interlocks their fingers together loosely. Nancy squeezes once. Yes.
“Okay, I gotcha pretty boy.” Robin murmurs, extending their free hand to totally encompass the hand Nancy had given. Then, they lean forward and press a soft kiss to each of his knuckles, letting each brush of their lips linger for just a breath longer.
Robin gently uncurls their entwined hands and kisses his palm, speaking quietly as they do. “Tonight a talking night or nah?”
Nancy finally lifts her head to look at Robin, face schooled into a familiar mask. Robin’s heart pangs sympathetically in their chest at the look. It’s a face they know all too well - one Nancy used to effectively hide her feelings when things got too much to handle all at once. The hand squeezed twice. No.
A gentle hum escapes Robin’s throat as they lean forward to kiss the tip of Nancy’s nose, followed by both of his cheeks, and then his forehead.
“‘Kay. Totally cool. Wanna cuddle with me on the couch?” They ask, pausing their affections briefly to glance at her face.
Nancy shifts, bringing her free hand up to clutch at Robin’s larger, warmer ones. The hands give one, long squeeze. Yes please.
Robin flashes them a lopsided grin as they lean forward again, bringing Nancy in for a softer, slower kiss. Nancy hums into it contentedly, and Robin can feel some of the tension bleed from his shoulders. Robin nudges his nose with theirs, smiling when Nancy chases the contact.
“C’mon, handsome. Should still be nice and warm for you from when I was napping there.” Robin tells him, standing up and taking Nancy up with them.
Nancy allows herself to be pulled gently to her feet, free hand tapping a steady rhythm against her hip bone. Robin’s other hand unconsciously mimics the motion, finding both the repetitive motion and knowledge that it soothed Nancy’s frayed nerves comforting. Nancy presses a smiling kiss to their shoulder, knowing the mimicry wasn’t born from anything malicious. Robin flashes him a sleepy, lopsided grin, free hand briefly pausing the pattern to wiggle excitedly at their side.
Robin plants a long, obnoxious kiss to Nancy’s cheek, indulging in their bright smile for a moment before flopping back onto the couch. They wriggle around for a moment to find their previous position, gathering up the large, heavy blanket in their hands as they move. When Robin is snuggled in to their satisfaction they look up at Nancy, who is grinning fondly at their exaggerated motions, and pats their chest with both hands welcomingly. Nancy doesn’t waste a second to practically throw himself on top of Robin, smooshing them both into the worn cushions.Robin kisses their forehead as he finds his preferred spot before unfurling the blanket with one heavy whoosh, guiding it down to engulf the two of them evenly.
A sleepy laugh slips out of Robin when Nancy brushes his cheek against their scruffy jaw, shifting to kiss at their neck. His lithe arms snake around the gentle slope of Robin’s softer midsection, winding around comfortably, but not too tight. Robin’s hands rub familiar motions against Nancy’s shoulders.
Robin nuzzles their face against Nancy’s, delighting in the breathy chuckle they hear as their scruff tickles her face. “Want me to squeeze?” They rumble, voice already dipping as the familiar haze of sleep rises again.
Nancy’s arms around their tummy squeeze twice after some consideration. Robin hums.
“Just a regular cuddle then?” They murmur, ducking their head to brush their lips against Nancy’s brow. The arms squeeze once.
They know for a fact that Nancy can feel the smile playing across their lips as Robin pecks the crown of his head. They exhale softly as he kisses their collarbone tenderly. Robin’s warm arms gently circle around Nancy’s narrow frame, curling him even further into their body, garnering a heavy sigh of relief. Nancy tucks her face into the crook of Robin’s neck, inhaling deeply, soaking in the achingly familiar scent of vanilla and cinnamon that was just so uniquely Robin.
“...Cookie.” Nancy says quietly, startling both parties.
Robin pauses, then dips their head to huff a laugh against Nancy’s shoulder. “Mind explaining that thought, Nance?”
Robin knows that Nancy won’t answer if she still is struggling to find balance, and they won’t be upset if their joking inquiry gets no response. Nancy raises her head however, scratching her cheek against Robin’s scruff along the way.
“‘Was thinking of you. How you smell.” He mumbles, voice sleepy but eyes twinkling with affection.
They blink at that, before their face erupts into a goofy grin. “What? You think I smell like a cookie?”
Nancy grumbles at the gentle teasing in their voice, but the smile dancing across her lips betrays her. She leans forward to capture Robin’s lips with her own softly, humming when she feels Robin smiling into the kiss.
“You smell sweet. Sugary and cinnamon… I don’t know.” Nancy replies when they part, pulling back just enough to look at Robin properly. “It’s sweet. You’re sweet.”
Robin gawks at him, playfully holding a hand to their chest in mock surprise. “Why, Nancy Wheeler, keep talking like that and people might start thinking you’re in love with me.”
Nancy rolls his eyes with a fond exasperation, shoving at them with no real force with a long, dramatic sigh. He slumps back down into their warm embrace, tucking his face into their neck with a huff as his arms tighten threateningly around Robin’s soft torso.
“You’re incorrigible.”
Nancy can feel the laugh rumbling in Robin’s chest beneath her head as their arms come up to wrap around them more snugly.
“Wait, Nance, I’m sorry.” They offer, though the humor coloring their tone severely undercuts the apology. “That was just too cute.”
Nancy pouts for a moment longer before Robin begins peppering her face with kisses until she breaks, a genuine laugh bubbling up in her throat and spilling past her lips as the onslaught continues. When Robin finally decides she’s had enough they pull back, blue-gray eyes shining with pure, unadulterated love. The large, warm hands resting loosely against Nancy’s back tap one, two, three times.
I love you.
A small, blinding smile graces Nancy’s lips. “I love you too, Robbie.”
Later, when Max inevitably comes barging into their apartment to ask what the plan was for dinner, she’ll find the two wrapped around each other like their lives depended on it, tangled up limbs and ruffled hair and twisted blankets somehow perfectly nestled in the worn cushions of their couch, hands still intertwined with each other’s. The haphazard pile they’re clumped in borders on nearly tipping off the sofa, yet both of their faces are twin expressions of utter content.
Max shakes her head and sighs fondly. Idiots.