Chapter Text
There was a year or so before Steve met Nancy when he really perfected his ‘sneaking in through a girl’s window’ skills. A bunch of girls who had wanted the ‘Harrington experience’ and had their expectations exceeded. Some windows were easy to access, and the perfect climbing tree was right there. Others were trickier. There was only one climb he hadn’t been able to concur. Tracy was disappointed, but he’d made it up to her when his parents were out of town the next week. His jaw ached for days after.
Robin’s bedroom window would probably fall in the top three easiest he’s tried yet, and he only stumbled a little on the entry. But even if it had been a Tracy-level climb, he would have made it work. Her voice had been so small over the phone when she asked him to come over at two am, and not just because it was a whisper. He threw on sweats and a t-shirt, toed on his shoes, and drove. The only thing that slowed him down was parking a block away and walking over, to decrease the chance of her parents waking. A classic element of the strategy.
She’d left her window open for him, as he’d asked her to do over the phone. He only stumbled a little upon entry, wincing as his body stretched, scrunched, and was jostled.
It was the first time he’d seen her since Starcourt, three days ago. She was curled in on herself in the lamplight in a way that defied everything he knew about her. She was anxious and awkward, but larger than life. In her own way, she took up space. Now, she shrinks in her pink plaid pajama shorts and worn gray t-shirt. She was barely audible as she said “Shit, Steve. They really fucked you up.”
“What, this ol’ thing?” He gestured sloppily at his dark purple face as he whispered. “Worse than it looks. Only a little fracture, and it didn’t even need surgery. It’ll be fine.”
“And the concussion?” She asked, raising an unplucked eyebrow.
Steve shrugged. “They discharged me after a night. Dustin’s mom watched me the next night. It hurts like a bitch but as long as I don’t just keep getting them, I’ll be fine.”
She tilted her head. “You’ve had one before?”
He nodded. “Two. One from basketball, one from Hargrove when all that shit was happening last year.”
Her arms curled tighter around her body, “You haven’t told me much about, you know, last year.”
He blinked at her. “Is that why you asked me to come over? So I could explain upside down stuff?”
She shook her head. “No. I, uh, I just…I can’t sleep.” They let out a laugh that was more pathetic than anything. “I’ve gotten, I don’t know, I think five fours since? When I’m alone I just…I start to hear it. And when I close my eyes, I see it. And all the time I can still…I feel all of it. And when I do fall asleep it’s right there and I wake up like half an hour later.” She took a shaky breath. “I could hear it, what they did to you. I know it was on purpose, all the shit you said. You knew they’d focus on you instead of me.” Tears welled in her eyes. “And I don’t know how to thank you for that. But I thought I was listening to you die.”
He didn’t hesitate to take the two steps it took before he could wrap her in his arms. “I didn’t. I’m right here.” He cradled her head to his shoulder. “That’s not something you thank me for. Like, I didn’t even think about it. I don’t know what else I would have done.”
She whined and whisper yelled “And that makes it worse! You’re actually so selfless that sacrificing yourself just came naturally. You can’t just die for other people. That’s fucked up, dingus.”
He shrugged, running a hand up and down her bony back. “Yeah well, I know I can take a hit. Been there, done that. You, Robin, are built like a number two pencil. They’d snap you right in half.” She laughed wetly. “I, uh, I’m not doing so good in the sleep department, either. In the hospital, it was easier cause they gave me the good shit. But last night I was mostly pretending to sleep whenever Henderson’s mom would check in on me. And tonight, I was in the kitchen when you called me. I haven’t even tried to sleep yet.”
They separated, staying close as they sat on Robin’s purple duvet. “Well, uh, maybe since neither of us can sleep, maybe we could be awake together?”
Steve hummed as if contemplating it, though he felt no hesitation. “You’ve got a deal.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Before I say anything else, do you remember when I told you in the bathroom or did the concussion knock that out of you?
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Robin I remember that you’re gay. I don’t have amnesia.”
“Okay, well, I don’t know. I’m a linguist, not a neurologist.” She huffs and crosses her arms. “Well now that we agree that I’m gay and don’t want to have sex with you, Can we lay down? My body still hurts from crashing the car and everything else.”
Steve nods. “Mine too.”
There were moments of bickering as they settled in, adjusting around each other’s bruises. Distance wasn’t possible with her twin-size bed, but even if it was Steve didn’t want it. “Let me just-” He shifted until she was on her side, against his shoulder, and wrapping an arm around her. “This okay?”
She hums, draping her arm over his chest. “Yeah.” She was silent for two breaths. “Is it weird I like that I can feel your heartbeat like this?”
Steve “No. S’nice.” He blinks heavily. “For the record, even if you were gay only, like, some of the time, any romantic or sexual feelings I had for you went out the window once I learned how bad your taste is. I’m feeling friendship feelings only.”
“Hey!” She giggles, voice staying soft but not feeling so small anymore. “Just because you don’t think she can be the next Blondie doesn’t mean she’s a dud.”
“Uh, she won’t be the next Blondie. Or the next anyone. Like, yes, she’s pretty and sometimes nice, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t delusional. If the other girls you’re into are anything like miss muppet, then you’ve got terrible taste.”
She scoffs. “I have great taste.”
He rolls his eyes as dramatically as he can manage. It made his temples pulse. “Gimme names then.”
She paused for a moment, looking up at him. She takes a deep breath and says even softer than before, “Heather Zaborski is really pretty.”
He squinted for a moment, running through the catalogue of girls in his head as he remembered which one she was. “She’s a striker on the soccer team, right?”
Robin shrugged, both of them wincing a little at their sore muscles bumping together. “She’s on the team but I had no clue there were positions.” Steve snorts. “She’s also in drama. Played Irene in Hello, Dolly. She’s multitalented.”
He vaguely recalled the posters around the school but had no other knowledge of it. It was a period where his post-Billy concussion still had him in a bit of a fog. “Oh, I didn’t see it.
She hummed. “That’s okay. We’re doing Taming of the Shrew in November.”
“Are you the shrew?” He teased.
She snorted. “No. I’m playing the widow. A minor character. Heather’s Bianca, the shrew.”
“I’ll be there.” He smiled, nudging her. Neither had to wince. He’d definitely have to write the dates on a calendar or something. Hoped Robin would keep bringing it up so it wouldn’t be so easy for him to forget. “Okay. Point in your favour. She’s cute. And don’t they say girl jocks are gay more than non-jocks?”
She laughed. “How should I know? I’m the only gay person I know.”
“Damn. You’re the only gay person I know too.” They breathed together, Steve felt her heart thump steadily against his. “Do you think you can be, like, gay but not all the way? Like, 40% gay? Would that be a thing that counts?”
Robin shrugged again. “I don’t know. Probably. There's multiple dimensions. We know about way weirder shit than people being sort of gay.”
“Cool. So have you talked to her?”
She snorted louder than he’d heard the time he spilled a full milkshake on himself only a week and a half ago. “No, of course not.”
“Well, you should.” He encouraged “She’s friends with with Lisa and Amy. They’re super sweet. Really…giving. And I heard none of them go to church anymore. So I mean, no clue if she’s gay or not. But I bet she’d be nice to talk to.”
She squinted her eyes up at him. “I’m not slut shaming you or anything, but did you sleep with both Lisa and Amy?”
He tilted his head back and forth against her purple cotton pillowcase. “Not at the same time but yeah.”
“Damn. You really have been with half the girls in Hawkins.” Her tone was light, teasing.
Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ve literally only slept with like 7 girls. That’s not that many.”
“More than me. How many girls have you, you know,” She motioned grabbing a boob.
Steve squinted. “Fair point.” He huffed. “Well, you’ve gotta tell me which girls you’re into so I can stay away from them. Bro code. So who else?”
“Vickie Miller. She’s first clarinet.”
He ran through his list of girls, drawing a blank. “No clue what that means but go on.”
“She’s really pretty. And has this whole cool style. And is like, super smart.” He took note of the dreamy quality her voice took on, wondering if he’d ever sounded like that and determining he had. With Nancy, of course. The only other time was when he’d confessed to Robin. “ And if I make first trumpet this year, I get to be next to her at least a third of the time when we rehearse and stuff.”
“I, uh, I don’t think I know who she is. But she sounds really cool. So you’ve talked to her?”
“No of course not.” She said like it was preposterous. “She asked me to borrow a pencil one time and I couldn’t say a word. She walked away, Steve. Admiring from a distance is my thing.”
“I’m gonna teach you some new moves then. If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to woo a lady.”
She snorted. “Sorry, dingus. But I think the ‘you suck’ whiteboard proves otherwise.”
Unfortunately, she was right. He was fresh out of moves. Hadn’t managed a single rebound in the last six months. “Yeah, well. I’m gonna get my game back and I’m gonna help you get some, too.”
“You’re gonna need to develop a good gaydar if you want to make that happen.”
“No problem. If they’re not into me, they’re probably batting for your team.”
She puts a hand over her mouth to hold back a cackle. “You’re on.” She settled back down. “Do you think, maybe, we should turn the light off?” She asked, muffled by the fabric of his tshirt.
“Is that okay with you?”
“Yeah, I feel…better. Not, you know, great. But better than before you got here.”
Steve flicked off the bedside lamp, the room only being lit by the faint glow of the moon. “Me too.”
“Do you want to hear about the really out there one? The one with the least chance of it actually happening?” Steve nodded. “You know Chrissy?”
“Chrissy Cunningham?” Robin nodded. “Why’s that so crazy?”
“Ugh, I think that’s obvious.”
Steve shrugged. “I mean, I know she’s dating Carver. And that’s like, the stereotype. New head cheerleader with the new captain. But he’s kind of a huge dick. Pretends to be a perfect church guy but dude’s mean as hell when he wants to be. So, here’s hoping they break up soon. And you’re obviously a way better choice.”
“She’s still gotta be gay, Steve. But even if she was, she’s so out of my league.”
“Leagues are stupid. And she could be a 40% gay person.”
She groans. “I’m gonna be single forever.”
Steve huffed. “Nah, not forever. But even if you are, I’m probably gonna be right there with you.” He laughs, she doesn’t”
“You know, I really didn’t want to like you, Steve Harrington”
It’s not as if she ever hid it. “I know.”
“Yeah well, the problem is that you actually make it so damn easy to like you. And not cause you’re ’The King’ or whatever.” She used a mocking tone with his former title, but tenderness wasn’t far off. “Cause you’re good. And you’re goofy. And you care so much. And now, you’re kind of stuck with me.”
“Well good, cause you’re really easy to like, too. Even when you still kind of hated me, I kind of liked you.”
“Actually maybe love you a little.”
Steve let out an almost whimper. “You mean it?”
She nodded against him. “Yeah. Actually, more than a little. Definitely love you. I liked you last week, I love you today. Tonight.”
It made something…settle. Deep in his chest. Something that pulsed and ached for so long he hardly noticed it most days, but its absence was automatically apparent. “Dude, thank god. I love you too.”
“Alright, dude.”
They breathed together, slow and deep. He wasn't sure when the last time he'd felt so relaxed. It might have only been a week or two ago, but it still felt foreign. “Can I say something crazy?” Steve asked.
“You always say something crazy" she mumbled. Go for it.”
“I think I might be about to fall asleep.”
She let out a barely there laugh. “Can I say something crazier?
“You always do. Go on.”
“I think I’m right there with you.”
Steve was out before he even heard his reply, Robin gone two breaths later. They still didn’t sleep easy. Steve woke an hour later, Robin a half after that. It was a miracle her parents hadn’t barged in. And yet, it was the best sleep either had had since before Robin started teaching herself Russian.
The next morning, as the sun had only just begun to rise, Steve did a quick inspection of Robin’s window lock before he had to vamoose. He deemed it barely acceptable, insisting she locked it as soon as he left because otherwise, it would be way too easy for just anyone to get in.
A week later, as the bag under his unbruised eye had started to fade, he got rid of the old lock and installed two more, the most secure he’d found at the hardware store. In the coming months, he’d be the only person she’d unlock them for.
They each moved forward with the determination that the other would never feel so alone ever again.