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Steve took in a deep breath as he zipped up Robin’s dress and clasped the delicate gold chain around her neck. He could feel her shoulders shaking under his fingertips, feel her nerves bleed into him like they shared one chest, one heart. He kissed her shoulder, let the chain go, and watched in the mirror as it caught the light, glittering around her bare neck.
He twirled a loose strand of her hair around his fingertip to fix its curl, and sprayed just one spritz of hairspray to hold it in place.
She looked beautiful.
She was beautiful.
He caught her teary eyes in the reflection, and she blinked desperately to try and wish the waterworks away. A lot of people had spent a fortune on today — makeup included — and there was no way she was going to ruin it before she even walked out to face the crowd.
Oh god, the crowd.
Sure, theoretically, it wasn’t any different than walking in for Christmas dinner or her high school graduation, or her college graduation. It was her family and friends for god’s sake, so why was she so nervous? Her heart pounded like it was ready to burst out of her skin and ruin her nice white dress, like it was going to tumble down the driveway and take off in the baby blue convertible that was waiting for them, and run away from this entire day.
It stayed in her chest though, where it belonged.
Steve’s hands on her shoulders were a lifeline, keeping her still and pristine, calm enough to feel excitement creeping in with the hovering anxiety. She was excited. Never thought anything like this could happen for her, that someone would love her enough, understand her enough, trust her enough.
But someone did, and their trust ran deeper than she’d ever expected it to.
She took a breath, meeting Steve’s eyes in the mirror. He was misty, one step away from crying himself, and Robin knew he would if she started — even more reason to force her eyes dry. If she cried, then he would cry, and then she wouldn’t be able to stop.
And it was almost time.
“Your dad’s waiting outside, okay? I’ll meet you in there,” Steve whispered, squeezing her shoulders and abruptly turning to leave. She saw his rapidly blinking eyes as he turned, and didn’t try to stop him as the doors clicked shut.
Her dad opened the door next, eyes just as damp as Steve’s, and the wrinkles around them gave away just how old he’d become. She still remembered the dad that carried her on his shoulders and lifted her up into the high branches of trees, the dad who tossed her into wheelbarrows when he was doing yard work and taught her how to play soccer. He cried in her childhood bedroom as she showed him her first day of school outfit, and her last day of school outfit, and her cap and gown, and he cried now as he looked her up and down in her simple white dress.
“You look wonderful, Little Bird,” he croaked, and Robin could feel the sting behind her eyes prickle painfully at the childhood nickname.
“Dad, don’t. You can’t say stuff like that because if you cry, I’ll cry, and Steve’s already crying so he won’t even help, and if Mom sees me crying then she’ll cry, and she has to deal with you crying, so you can’t cry,” she rambled, trying to talk through the lump quickly growing in her throat. Maybe if she talked enough she’d forget about the tears entirely; it’s happened before.
“I know, I know, I’ll just, uh–” he turned around and looked up at the ceiling. “Quick, tell me something annoying that my sister’s done tonight so I can be mad instead.”
She laughed, wracking her mind for anything that could get her dad to switch focus. “Oh!” she jolted, “You remember that little talk you had with her two months ago about her “evil” ex-husband,” she started, using air quotes even if her dad’s back was turned and he couldn’t see them.
“Well, he’s here! As her plus one! Oh! And, and, he immediately asked Steve if there was an open bar, and obviously he said yes because there is, but they’re just setting up now and you know they’re not supposed to be open until the reception, but he caught them all unpacking bottles and demanded he get a beer first because he was a guest, and she literally had to drag him away. I don’t know why she brought him or what she’s thinking but oh my god, Dad, I swear to god I feel like she did it on purpose just to ruin something because she’s bored after her divorce and retirement. I think she should really get a hobby or maybe a dog, oh! Or a cat! Because Lord knows she would not do well with a dog, actually—”
“Alright, Birdy, alright,” he cut her off, chuckling as he turned around to face her again. “That’s great, I’m furious.”
“Mad enough to start a fight, so everyone’s not entirely focussed on me when I walk out there?” She clasped her hands together in prayer. Maybe if people had something else to talk about, she won’t feel like a bug under a microscope. Her aunt’s terrible marriage was way more interesting than her walking down some flower-covered isle.
“Even a meteor couldn’t make that happen,” he said, eyes misty again — her attempts to coax out anger just a drop in the sea of emotions that clogged up his throat.
There was a knock at the door, and her dad nodded his head, clearing his throat and slapping his cheeks like he could get rid of the tears by force instead. He held out his elbow. Robin took it. They looked at each other for a moment, one last moment of her being his little girl before she had her own family. She’d still be his little girl, she’d always be his little girl, but she’d have someone else to share her days with, now.
She didn’t remember the hallway being this long during rehearsal, or when they’d scouted the venue, and she definitely didn’t remember the aisle being this long, even just two hours ago when everyone was setting up. But here, now, with all eyes on her, standing to watch like she was the fucking queen or something, it felt like there were miles between her and the people she loved at the end of it.
Steve’s eyes were so red, he definitely hadn’t succeeded in stopping the tears, but Robin’s eyes skipped over that and darted to the spot right across from him. The spot with Nancy. Nancy, in her floor-length pink dress that made her look flushed all over — the way she looked stepping out of a scalding shower, or after Robin and Steve convinced her to go for a jog one morning and she vowed to never go again. The necklace that glittered on her chest matched the one Steve had clasped around Robin’s neck not twenty minutes ago, and Robin wanted nothing more than to run over and kiss it for good luck. She was perfect, she was beautiful, she was blinking back tears as Robin and her father walked right toward her.
He kissed her hands, whispered “I’m so happy for you, Birdy,” and sat down next to her mother in the front row. She caught a quick glance of her mom patting his shoulder, and then squeezing the back of his neck, a sweet ‘I’m here’ and ‘I know’ silently passing between them.
She took one more look at Nancy — catalogued her beautiful hair and how soft Robin knew it was under her fingertips; the tears at the corner of her eyes, and the gentle smile on her face that Robin just wanted to dart over and feel under her own lips. Then, she took a breath, handed her the bouquet, and turned to face Steve.
She was thinking too much, she knew she was thinking too much, she always thought too much, and who even cared about what the priest was saying, anyway? She wasn’t religious, her parents weren’t religious, and as far as she was concerned it kind of felt a little blaspheme-ish, considering the whole ‘raging lesbian’ thing. But this was traditional, this was safe. They were tired of being asked why they were roommates and not anything deeper, anything more, like Steve wasn’t literally her everything. If they were married they could stop the questions, they could get a house, they could adopt, and Steve had always wanted children. Besides, the more the priest droned on and on, the more excited she was to say ‘I do’ like a little school girl, tying herself to her best friend for the rest of their lives. There would be infinite sleepovers and infinite gossip and infinite adventures.
“Robbie,” Steve cut through, startling her from her thoughts. She glanced quickly to the side — to the priest’s expectant face — and realized it was time for the vows. God. Their vows. Robin was so nervous she could spew at any second. She swallowed all the words and nerves and the organ formerly known as her heart down until it was settled enough to listen as Steve continued.
“Robbie,” he started again, noticing the panicked confusion in her eyes as she came back to the present. “I know we never in a million years thought this would be us. I know you hated me from the second I sat in front of you and spilled bagel crumbs all over the floor–,” their audience laughed, and Robin’s heart sored fondly, “But the more we got to know each other, and the more we pushed through everything we have, the more I realized that you were a piece of me. I don’t know how I’d be able to function in life without you.”
His voice trembled, the way it trembled when he dropped the kids off to college, the way it did when she told him she loved Nancy before telling Nancy herself, the way it did when he told his parents he was getting married and they could either be there for him, or cut themselves from his life.
“I love you,” he whispered, just for Robin to hear, just for them. Louder, “And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I mean, I was going to do that anyway but now you legally have to let me,” he added, to the crowd’s amusement.
The priest’s face scrunched for the smallest of seconds, like he didn’t totally appreciate Steve’s joke, and cleared his throat before continuing.
“Do you, Steve Harrington, take Robin Buckley to be your lawfully wedded wife, your constant friend, and partner in all the adventures that life has in store for you?”
He squeezed her hands, looked her dead in the eyes, and said “I do,” with such conviction that any doubt over whether this was right or wrong flew completely out of her head.
She stared into his conviction and let it build her up, let it solidify her resolve and settle the frantically beating heart in her chest. Her voice was so dry she had to clear her throat a few times before she could squeak anything out. She could hear her father’s muffled sobs and a few sniffles amongst the pews, and for a brief moment she wondered if they’d still be this happy for her if it was Nancy holding her hands instead; instead of a prim and proper golden boy, instead of the popular lady-killer they think she snagged.
She did, though, kind of. She snagged the prom king. Her. Robin Buckley, band geek and lesbian extraordinaire, was about to put a ring on Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, have her first straight kiss with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, her husband — and for some reason, that’s the thought that made her voice giggle to life again.
“Steve,” she started, catching his own smirk like her thoughts were projecting straight into his mind. She tried desperately to hold back a laugh, certain she wouldn’t be able to stop if she started, and for some reason that was less acceptable at a wedding than tears.
“You’re right, I never thought we’d be here. Especially because of the bagel crumbs.” Steve smiled at her, winked, and she could practically feel the cold press of tile against her back, the ache in her wrists from where her hands were tied, and the cloying stink of the Starcourt Mall bathroom as he told her he’d been in love with Nancy Wheeler, but someone else might be more perfect for him.
Nancy herself tugged subtly on the back of Robin’s dress, and she squeezed her eyes tight to revel in the small shift of fabric, the warmth of Nancy’s hand even if it wasn’t against her skin. If this were another time — maybe, if the world didn’t shove people like them into a shadowy corner so they couldn’t be seen — maybe she’d be holding Nancy’s hand with Steve at her back, and maybe she’d be saying something else entirely as their families looked on. But here, now, she opened her eyes again and stared into the deep hazel of her other half.
Something settled inside her, knowing that the man across from her would love her until neither of them existed. He’d love her until the end of time, until their atoms split and reformed and drifted too far to remember what they’d once been. Until the stars died and sank into themselves, until there was nothing left to suggest Steve Harrington or Robin Buckley had ever been a piece of the universe to begin with, let alone that they’d been here together. God, why didn’t she think of any of that when she’d written these damn vows.
Fuck, her vows.
“We’ve been through a lot,” she continued after what was hopefully a reasonable amount of time. “We’ve been through a lot, like holy shit,” she mumbled, gasping to herself when she realized she’d said that out loud.
Steve squeezed her hands three times, ‘I know’ it said, ‘I’m here’ it said, too.
“But, even the horrible, terrible, stuff I wouldn’t throw away because it brought us here. Everything I have, everything I do, you’re there with me. You’re my other half, you’re my favorite movie on a Sunday night, you’re my favorite place, you’re my best friend. And–,” she forced herself to look up, to stare blankly at the bright yellow lights of the chandeliers overhead as she blinked the tears away. She could do this.
“I’m not a gambling man, I’m not Eddie,” she tossed out to the audience, who laughed and gave her another moment to collect herself, a mumbled little ‘hey’ making its way to her ear, “But if I were, you’d be my best bet. I wouldn’t even hesitate, I’d bet on you in any life, in any way. It’d be the safest bet I’d ever make, and I’d make it a thousand times. I didn’t think I’d have a future like this, but… but yeah, I couldn’t imagine one without you.” She nodded, words finally untangled and out in the universe.
“Do you, Robin Buckley,” the priest prompted, “take Steve Harrington to be your lawfully wedded husband, your constant friend, and partner in all the adventures that life has in store for you?”
She squeezed his hands back, hoping her own conviction was shining through.
“I do.”
The priest walked them through the exchanging of rings, and Robin was still excited. She’d given up on this a long time ago, on the rings and the dress and the flowers and the ceremony. She’d given up on the first dance and the ‘I love you’s, and the idea that someone would even want to be legally bound to her.
He gestured to Nancy and the second ring. Their fingers brushed as she passed it along with a reassuring smile, eyes red-rimmed and damp, and Robin was so excited for their week together after this was all over. She was practically vibrating out of her skin as the clock ticked closer and closer to the end of the ceremony, and the start of the most expensive party she’d ever planned, the idea of tomorrow and forever and the future zipping down her spine like a livewire, if they could just get through these next few lines.
She was almost tempted to grab the priest and yell, “just say the damn thing already!” so they could move it along, but she held back. She looked at the gold band between her thumb and pointer finger, and thought about everything it represented — to the people watching, to their friends, to Steve, to her. It was a future she could count on, it was a best friend who’d alway be there, it was the proof that she’d made it through, that they’d both made it through. It was a promise that she’d never be the lonely little girl who hid in the bathroom stall when the other girls giggled behind her back, she’d be the girl who found her missing piece on the bathroom tile instead, and she’d never have to go back.
She slipped the ring onto Steve’s finger; she felt the cool metal slide onto hers — where it fit, where it stayed, where it belonged — and she was practically bouncing in her sandals as the final lines were said.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”