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What a day it had been.
A day of remembrance, recollection, celebration, reunions and commitments. Particularly one, a commitment the four of them made to meet once a month in Robin’s weird uncle’s basement for a drink and a hang out.
And it felt nice.
It felt good to have a set date, a plan to get together and do nothing but revel in old memories whilst they make new ones that they’ll treasure for years to come.
Even though it was nice being out of Hawkins, experiencing the real world, Nancy’s heart ached and constantly reached out for the three others sitting around her, talking, bantering, laughing.
Because no matter what, nothing could ever replace the bond she has with these people, nothing could ever replicate because it would never be the same.
Especially — Nancy found over the years — with the girl sitting to her left, the one with the beautiful laugh and asks too many questions out of impulse and nerves. The one whose smile made her cheeks warm and eyes that made her breath hitch whenever she accidentally met them.
She had tried to find another Robin Buckley out there during her few months at Emerson, but she knew it was impossible because there could only ever be one.
Nobody could ever come close, she thought.
They laugh, they talk, they reminisce on times they don’t necessarily ever want to return to until the late spring sun eventually begins to set.
Steve bids his goodbyes first, Jonathan following soon after, splitting off and leaving Robin and Nancy alone on the rooftop.
Robin had since abandoned her foldable chair, instead laying flat out on the now cool stone, looking up at the sky as the stars slowly start to appear. And maybe it is the cheap vodka that buzzes warmly in her blood, perhaps it is entirely her own decision, but after watching Robin from where she sat, she decides to join her.
Nancy lays herself down next to her, and when Robin turns her head to look at her with nothing but a soft smile on her face, Nancy feels her heart stutter.
They don’t speak for a while, there isn’t any immediate need or rush, the silence is comfortable as they stare up at the sky, and they revel in it. That is until Robin turns her head again, her voice gentle, “I’m really proud of you, y’know?”
Nancy rotates herself, laying on her side, “For what?”
“For listening to yourself and doing what you want to do,” She pauses then repeats, “I’m proud of you.” And Nancy inhales deeply, her chest swelling.
She exhales, “Thank you, Robin.”
They hold each other’s eyes for a moment, unmoving, and the air around them suddenly feels thick, too many unspoken words floating around them. So, Robin cuts through it. “So, tell me, how were the babes at Emerson?” Nancy laughs, she can’t help but laugh, rolling onto her back again. She covers her face with her hands. “Come on, surely you have some sort of opinion?”
Nancy pulls her hands away from her face. Robin is laughing, she is laughing, they are both laughing like they are giddy teenagers again. “They were nice,” Nancy says, her laughter dying down, “beautiful… even.” Robin continues to eye her.
“Any in particular catch your eye?” She raises an eyebrow. Her tone is still lighthearted but the question insinuates something deeper — deeper than Nancy has ever been able to admit out loud to another person.
“Maybe…” she breathes out, and she’s not sure what takes over her, maybe nothing does, maybe it’s because she actually feels safe, comfortable in this moment, but Nancy allows herself to continue, “a couple of the women did, but none of them really compared,” She shrugs her shoulders, rolling onto her side again, watching confusion take over Robin’s face.
“None of them compared… to what?”
“To you.”
Robin’s eyes slightly widen, but not in fear, she doesn’t look scared or even repulsed, they widen in surprise. “What?” It comes out quiet, near enough a whisper only Nancy could hear.
“You’re extremely hard to replace, Robin Buckley, and I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.” Robin smiles at her then, her eyes dancing over Nancy’s face, taking her in as if she would vanish any second now.
“Still full of surprises,” Robin says, mimicking her own words from earlier, mimicking her words from years ago, “maybe some things truly can never change, no matter how much the world does.”
Robin is also laying on her side now, they both go silent again as they look at each other, but none of them dare speak, try to interrupt. They let the quiet envelop them, pull them closer until their foreheads touch.
“I’ve really missed you.” Robin whispers, and Nancy smiles, leaning back just enough to be able to look at her.
“I really missed you too.”
“Promise we won’t go so long without seeing each other again?”
“We have our monthly meet up now,” Robin shakes her head.
“I know, but that’s not what I mean. Not to disinclude Steve and Jonathan but we don’t live far from each other, maybe we could…”
“Yeah,” Nancy nods her head, catching on, “yeah. I can come to you or you can come to me or we can meet someplace in the middle.”
“Meet in the middle,” Robin repeats, mulling over the words like it was a question before she brings her hand up, cupping Nancy’s cheek. “I like the sound of that.” She smiles as she leans in, closing the small gap.
It’s gentle, light, a pressing of lips before Nancy pulls back a little. Robin opens her eyes, “Was that okay? Sorry, did I totally misread the situation her-” But before Robin could continue her ramble, Nancy cuts her off by leaning back in, taking Robin’s bottom lip between her own.
Robin exhales softly, moving impossibly closer, her fingers inching back into Nancy’s short curls. There is no rush, it is slow but so unbelievably sweet. Nancy thinks she could stay like this and be content for the rest of her days with Robin’s mouth moving against hers, Robin’s hand on her skin, in her hair.
Just Robin would be perfect, would be enough.
They pull away, taking a breath. “Oh my god,” Robin mumbles out, cheeks blushed, her hand leaving Nancy’s cheek as she rolls onto her back, staring up at the sky again, the stars more visible, shining.
Nancy does the same, moving onto her back, laying out completely flat, hands open at her sides — a silent hint, which Robin seems to catch on to. She feels fingertips, featherlight, begin to trace from the tops of her own fingers down to her palm. The action repeats a couple more times until Robin stops, stills, and laces her fingers through the gaps of Nancy’s hand.
It’s quiet once again, not uncomfortable, the only uncomfortable thing is the floor they are currently lying on, but neither of them care enough to do anything about it, to move.
“Yeah,” Robin begins after a beat, turning her head to face Nancy once again, “that can’t be just a two time thing.” Nancy then shakes her head, glancing down at their now clasped hands.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”