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nancywheelersgirlfriend · 2 years

Note

Fake dating AU- set slightly in the future Johnathan comes back to Hawkins with a new girlfriend and desperate to prove she’s moved on also Nancy asks Robin to fake date her. (Ronance happy ending)

thanks for the prompt! i hope you enjoy :) i think i might flesh this one out more. maybe you'll see that pop up around november, i had too many ideas to stuff into this oneshot :D but hopefully the length makes up for the weight

them there eyes (5,507 words)

If Nancy had been better prepared, perhaps this whole mess would’ve never had the room to start up in the first place. All she needed was a phone call or two from El in casual explanation - a thirty second debriefing her ex-boyfriend’s exploits and current local. However, the phone calls from El, while frequent and enjoyable, rarely included any information about Jonathan. Whether that was specifically for Nancy’s benefit, she didn’t truly know.

All this to say that she was now, twenty-three and home for Thanksgiving, stood in the center of the soup aisle at Hawkins’ local grocery store completely dumbfounded. Not because of the soup, mind you.

But because Jonathan Byers and a girl - a human female - who Nancy had never seen before (sure she would’ve recognized her if she’d gone to their high school, their graduating class size was in the double digits) were also in the soup aisle. Sharing both a cart and a smile. She passed him a can of tomato soup and he, after ducking underneath his permanent fringe like an adolescent, pressed a kiss to her cheek quickly in thanks.

Nancy knew, vaguely, that she was staring. But something about the image rooted her to the spot. She wasn’t sure which was the most disturbing aspect. One: that Jonathan, arguably the first true love of her life, had been able to move on so exponentially that he was grocery shopping with somebody else. Or two: that she, the other half of Hawkins’ weirdest couple, was currently shacking up in her parents’ basement with negative romantic prospects.

She tried to recall the last true date she’d been on, scaling back all the way to the past February before she found a good example. It’d been horrific - he, in the name of feminism, had tried to get her to pay the whole bill. Not that she would’ve minded paying for half. That was understandable. But the whole bill? And he’d gotten a sirloin. She wasn’t made of money. She was a journalist - she ate ramen for dinner the majority of the time, if that.

Her mother, ever the hen, had practically forced her out the house door to run errands. She claimed it was a ‘nice day’ and Nancy should ‘get some fresh air’. It was pouring outside, absolutely storming. Nancy could hear it on the roof of the grocery store. But she supposed her mother had a point - she hadn’t gone outside since she’d gotten there three days before, content to bury herself underneath the household’s excess store of fuzzy blankets and slowly wade through the childhood VHS tapes collecting dust down beneath El’s old tent.

Had Karen Wheeler realized the abject horror she’d be subjecting her daughter to when she’d forced her out of the house that morning? Surely not. She never would have betrayed her like this.

Nancy continued to watch open-mouthed as the girl (who, by the way, was stunning) whispered something in Jonathan’s concealed ear. His face turned a shocking shade of red at whatever she had said. He glanced back towards the end of the aisle with a little nervous laugh, one that had Nancy’s stomach twisting up into her ribcage. She could remember making him laugh like that many times.

She knew she should just be an adult about this and walk away from the aisle. Nobody didn’t need Italian Wedding that badly. Besides, Nancy had a college degree. She was going places. She would be moving to New York City after this brief hiatus at home, making big bucks and traveling the world to report on its innumerable atrocities. Give it an hour and Jonathan Byers would once again be lingering only in the very corner of her mind, some distant ghost she forgot to remember most of the time.

And yet she stayed rooted to the spot. How had he, arguably the most emotionally unavailable man she’d ever known, gotten into a relationship that made him this happy? Made him so comfortable with PDA, when he’d shrugged off Nancy’s hands in high school more times than she could remember? It was absurd; impossible. She blinked once, twice, just to make sure this wasn’t some sort of putrid nightmare she’d stepped her way into. As she did so, her mind gifted her the wonderful possibility of that shared cart having a baby in it. A baby with a bowl cut.

She’d throw up. She’d leave town without notice, or do something drastic like shave her head. Change her name and move to Alaska, turning that journalism degree into firewood and using her hands for ice-fishing. Jonathan Byers is in love, in love with somebody other than her.

God, she was selfish, wasn’t she? Even as she acknowledged this, the jealous feeling continued to blossom.

“Nance?” Oh my god, this was worse. So, so much worse. Jonathan was talking to her. “Nancy Wheeler?”

“Hi, Jon,” She said, grimacing on the way to a smile. She was shocked she managed to speak at all, as opposed to much more viable option of projectile vomiting all over the red Campbell labels.

“Jesus,” He replied breathlessly - and why was he smiling? He was smiling like this was something pleasant. Jonathan ran a hand through his mop of hair, still slightly bowlish despite his grown age, and stepped forward to clasp their palms together. She was surprised he couldn’t feel her shaking as he did so.

Their breakup hadn’t been…bad, per say. Okay, well, actually it’d been horrific. Lots of shouting. Crying. The whole nine yards. He’d come clean in August about the college lie. She lost all trust in him. They attempted to do long distance again but without that trust - that communication - they fell apart. His passion for photography reignited and he was off to Europe that spring. She came inches away from kissing another girl at a college party and felt more in the pit of her stomach than she ever had with him. They broke up over the phone and then again in person; to make it more real, she supposed. Or more movie-like, maybe.

That’d been four years ago now. During that hiatus, she hadn’t seen him anywhere besides the annual Byers family Christmas card - because, of course, when one set of Byer/Wheeler siblings broke it off another rose from its ashes. Will and Mike were grossly in love, to the point of applying to all the same colleges and sharing a dorm under the guise of their infamous ‘best friend’ status. Due to their impending forever love, Nancy had known for a while she’d end up seeing Jonathan and his pasty little face at least one more time in her life.

She had no idea what to say in response to him. Her mouth was simultaneously dryer than the desert and so wet she could hardly speak through the gathering spit.

“How’ve you been?” She finally settled on. The woman, who’d been lingering at the cart, stepped up to bump Jonathan’s shoulder. Despite all of Nancy’s quickly heightening expectations, her eyes weren’t mean. They were the opposite, actually, which made things a little more difficult for Nancy.

It would’ve been much easier if she was hateable. But this girl looked positively wonderful. Perfectly put together. Everything Nancy wasn’t and never could be. As she and Jonathan’s hands disconnected, Nancy couldn’t help but glance at his palm to double-check his scar had stayed. At least a part of him was still marred by her, even only physically. She couldn’t say she’d been able to recover in the same way.

“Great,” He replied. It was so genuine it hurt. His toothy grin was like a bullet to the heart. “Just great. Oh! This is Bianca, by the way. My fiancee.”

Oh god, even worse! His fiancee. Jonathan Byers, who’d gotten up on his soapbox every time Nancy so much as casually suggested the pipedream of living together someday. That Jonathan Byers was engaged. Bianca smiled and it took everything in Nancy not to scream in pure horror. They shook hands.

“Nice to meet you,” Nancy said. It sounded as though she were speaking under water. Somehow Bianca’s beautiful smile only grew. Beneath her unruly bangs of black curl, her eyes were warm and brown. Nancy recognized those easily enough - Jonathan had a type, she concluded.

“Jon’s told me about you! You’re a journalist, right?” Bianca asked, practically forcing the words out through the gaps between her teeth. Nancy tried to hate her. She really tried.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nancy nodded, wiping her newly sweaty palm down the front of her pant leg. “I mean, I’m going to be. I’ve got a starter job at the AP office in New York City - I’m moving there after the new year.”

“Oh, excellent!” Bianca sounded completely genuine.

“What do you do?” Nancy asked, if only to fill up space in the air. She had to admit, she really wanted to know. Model, maybe? Garbageman? Bianca was a complete mystery. And, apparently, so was Jonathan.

“I’m a teacher,” Bianca replied. “Kindergarten.”

“At Hawkins Elementary?” Jonathan and Bianca shared one of those hearty laughs only people in love can have. Nancy was incredibly jealous.

“No, no, we live in New York City,” Bianca corrected. “We’re only here for Thanksgiving, since this is where Jon’s family is. Christmas we’re spending with my parents.” Nancy resisted the urge to bite out a snarky did I ask? and instead nodded pleasantly.

“Maybe I’ll see you in the city, then,” Nancy said. Yeah, she’d rather cut out her tongue than have to spend five more minutes in their lovesick presence.

“We should go out to dinner while we’re all here,” Jonathan suggested. She could’ve choked him out with her bare hands - right there in the middle of the grocery store. What had she done to deserve this strange and unusual punishment?

Nancy swallowed tightly as Bianca said something in agreement. She imagined what that might look like: third-wheeling her ex-boyfriend and his new, perfect fiancee in her hometown. What a hellish experience.

So you can’t blame her for what she said next. It would be like blaming a deer for getting itself hit by a car, or a bird for crashing into a window - a better solution required too much forethought for Nancy to handle. She rushed forward with the only thing she could think of, regretting the words even as they were coming out of her mouth.

“I’ll have to see when my girlfriend’s free.” Jonathan’s face stayed politely neutral. Bianca’s eyebrows went up into her bangs, but to her credit she looked more distantly delighted than disgusted.

“Sure!” Bianca was quick to reassure, the tone half of people tended to whenever Nancy came out. As if she truly cared about Bianca’s opinion of who she did and did not have sex with. “Sure, yeah. Let’s set a tentative Thursday date, hm? And you can ask her about it and then phone up the Byers’ place - we’re staying in their guest room.”

“Who’s your girlfriend, Nance?” Jonathan asked. He just didn’t know when to quit, did he? She couldn’t help but grit her teeth together, the smile becoming more a snarl every second that passed.

“You do, actually.” She racked her brain for potential women: considering, just for a moment, how funny it would be to bring El to the sham of a double date. But the only girl Nancy could really consider (or, though she didn’t admit this to herself, the only girl she wanted to consider) was Robin.

Robin, who was as much as Nancy’s other half as she’d been that final summer before everything ended. Her freshman roommate had gotten absolutely sick of Nancy writing pages of letter early into the night, shipped off first to Indiana and then, when Robin moved overseas for a few years, to Paris. This past summer Nancy had flown out to visit her. They’d shared a bed for the first time since August 1987, legs tangled together and words carefully unspoken. Those early mornings by the Seine, so close and yet so far, kept her up at night more often than not. They hadn’t really spoken much since that summer, too busy to reach out…

Still, if Nancy could recruit anybody to play pretend, it would be Robin.

“It’s Robin,” Nancy said, effectively sealing the deal. Jonathan clapped her on the shoulder, an action that sent her nearly leaping across the aisle.

“I should’ve guessed,” Jonathan said. “You guys have been dancing around each other for years.” Nancy recovered from her shock at his casual touch to frown at that particular comment. What the hell did he mean by that?

“Yeah,” She said aloud, because what else was there to say? Inside, however, her mind was on the verge of exploding. The fiancee was plenty to distress about, but now - apparently - Jonathan thought she and Robin had something. Something actually palpable. So real even he could see it with his aforementioned emotional immaturity. She decided to shake it off. Jonathan Byers was a fool. He always had been, even in his best moments. Nancy just continued to smile, pretending to pay attention and instead deliberating on how she’d be breaking the news to Robin. Because Robin needed to agree. How embarrassing would that be if she didn’t?

“What are you doing on Thursday?”

“I’ll have to check my calendar - I’ve got a long going on. A lot of friends that I definitely have.”

“My apologizes to the big Hollywood writer.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Robin’s grin was audible and it made Nancy’s stomach twist itself into a permanent knot. “What’d you have in mind?”

“I’m gonna ask you for a big favor,” Nancy began, unsure where to start otherwise.

“If it involves the Upside-Down, it’s a no-go.” Nancy laughed despite herself. It felt like Robin was always getting her to do that.

“It’s worse. It’s dinner with Jonathan and his fiancee.” Best to rip the bandaid off. Silence on the other line.

And then Robin burst into laughter so loud it cut out halfway through. Nancy bit back a sigh and leaned against her peeling kitchen wall, shutting her eyes as if Robin were right in front of her instead of on the opposite end of town, mooching off her own parents.

“How the hell did you swing that?”

“I ran into them at the grocery store.”

“You poor thing.”

“So you’ll do it?” Nancy asked, taking on a hopeful tone. Robin hummed a vague affirmative. “Because, uh. There’s another element to it.”

“You’re changing the rules after I already agreed?”

“I told them you were my girlfriend.” Another bout of silence, this one not nearly as pleasurable. Nancy had stunned Robin so much she couldn’t speak - it was highly uncharacteristic and deeply uncomfortable.

“Why?” Robin sounded almost hurt. Nancy’s heart dropped to the soles of her shoes.

She knew it was silly to even consider a relationship with Robin in the first place. Not like she’d ever go after it - their friendship was too important, too necessary to breathe for Nancy to push. There had been some moments over the past few years, especially those brief pauses in Paris where Robin would turn and there’d be something on her face that made Nancy kickstart her heart. But she knew, really, it was in her head. And the implication that Robin, a constellation in the sky to Nancy’s shitty little telescope, would date her was not something Robin probably enjoyed.

“I freaked out,” Nancy admitted. “They were just so perfect, standing there buying soup together and smiling like freaks and wearing matching rings. I couldn’t take it.”

“It’s okay,” Robin said. The humor had returned to her voice. Maybe Nancy’d imagined the hurt. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“It’s so weird that you can drive now,” Nancy commented, laughing to release the iron fist around her heart. She could Robin’s responding giggle on the other line.

“Bye, Nance.”

“Bye,” Nancy murmured, standing there like a complete fool even after the only other voice on the phone was the dial tone, hands gripping the receiver like a lifeline.

Thursday rolled around much faster than Nancy hoped it would. It felt like a death sentence looming over the first half of the week. She nearly sliced her finger clean off while cutting up an apple on Wednesday; she’d been too busy considering all the harrowing possibilities of how Robin would react to Nancy dropping down on one knee and proposing.

Either she was insane or Jonathan was right. She wasn’t sure which was worse. It felt terrible, getting hope from her ex-boyfriend. You guys have been dancing around each other for years. Was he right? Had they been? Was it obvious? More importantly: was it reciprocated?

Ugh. What a complete mess. Nancy flopped down into her father’s laz-e-boy, vacant for the first time since she’d been home, and tried to resist the urge to run away. The kitchen clock, a clunky little thing from the nearby Kmart, clicked with reckless abandon.

“Shut up,” Nancy said to the huge and absolutely absurd fish tank her mother had installed beside the couch her sophomore year of college. “I know.” The goldfish gurgled something. Probably an insult.

The doorbell rang out through the empty house like the slice of a guillotine.

“Nancy?” Robin’s voice came muffled through the front door.

“Coming!” Nancy shouted in affirmative. She smoothed out the bottom of her skirt, shooting a quick glance over at the circular mirror in the foyer before swinging open the door with much more force than necessary.

There was both a pro and a con to Robin on her doorstep. Pro: Robin had dressed relatively formal, which was out-of-character for her. After a vague mention of Robin’s residency in Paris sent Bianca into a gushing spiral over French food, they’d decided on the only French restaurant in Hawkins; fairly fancy decor and subtle black tie included. Con: Robin looked absolutely breathtaking in pressed dress pants and a tight white shirt. Her slender body, all long and rigid limbs, seemed elegant in that outfit. She looked absolutely perfect and Nancy was going to die.

“We need to debrief,” Robin commanded, forgoing a hello and instead offering her elbow to Nancy with a familiar grin. Nancy furrowed her eyebrows in confusion - but took her arm nonetheless.

“Debrief on what?” She locked the door behind her, allowed to be on the stoop for a mere five seconds before Robin was yanking the both of them as some two-headed monster. She tripped on the last step in the sidewalk and nearly went face first down on the cement. “Jesus, I’m wearing heels!”

“I realized on the drive over that we’ve got no proper story,” Robin started to explain. She was a speedracer in both speech and talk. Nancy had to jog to keep up, not wanting to go ragdoll in her arms. “How’d we get together? How long have we been dating? Are we gonna live together? Who takes out the trash? Who pays for the food? Are we going to buy a dog or a cat?”

“Do you seriously think Bianca’s gonna care if we’re cat people?” Nancy asked incredulously. Robin all but yanked open the passenger door, nearly wrenching it off the side of her shitty little Beetle.

“These are important questions!” Robin snapped, rounding the hood of the car to hop into the driver seat. She started the car before Nancy had gotten both feet inside.

“Slow down, Rob,” Nancy admonished softly, reaching out a hand to cover up the gear shift before Robin could yank it and probably send them careening into her neighbor’s driveway. Robin looked up feverishly. Her face was a stark, intense pink. The sudden eye contact knocked all breath from Nancy’s lungs. She moved her hand over and up to caress Robin’s wrist comfortingly. “It’s okay. It’s Jon. Not that hard to impress.”

“I thought you wanted to prove you’ve got yourself together,” Robin pressed, eyebrows knitted. Nancy had no proper reply, because she did. She desperately did. She also (mainly) wanted to pretend, for a night, that Robin would even consider being her girlfriend.

“You don’t need to kill yourself to do that,” Nancy said, half a joke and half serious. Robin glanced down at their connected skin, eyes unreadable. She laughed breathlessly and released Robin’s wrist, realizing too late she’d been caressing it for longer than necessary. For a moment it looked like Robin’s face had fallen - but maybe it was a trick of the light. She turned the key silently. As they were backing out of the driveway, Robin let out a heavy breath - it sounded like she’d been holding it for eons.

“We started dating in Paris,” Robin decided. “We’re moving to New York together.”

“Studio or one bedroom apartment?” Nancy asked. Robin hummed.

“Studio, I like enclosed spaces,” She decided. Nancy nodded.

“One cat,” They said in unison, grinning goofily at each other in encouragement.

“It’s hairless,” Robin added.

“No way, those are expensive!” Nancy gasped.

“We’re together enough to afford a hairless cat,” Robin argued. “You the journalist and me the famous, wealthy poet.”

“Wealthy and poet don’t normally go together,” Nancy retorted.

“I’m a different breed,” Robin shrugged. “It’s a left here, right?” Nancy nodded. She flicked on her clicker absently.

“We switch off cooking dinner,” Nancy suggested.

“We have taco nights,” Robin added. “You cook the meat, I’m no good with that.”

“We share sweaters.”

“You wouldn’t fit in mine, they’re too big.”

“You’re not that much taller than me. I like big clothes, anyway.” Robin glanced over at Nancy in the passenger seat. Her face was lit up by the headlights of the car facing them. She looked positively angelic as she laughed. Nancy realized, not for the first time in her life, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life making Robin laugh like that.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Nancy had to physically hold down her mouth to keep her teeth from chattering together. For no reason in particular, Hawkins Main was much chillier than her empty col-de-sac. She was shivering before they even really stepped out of the car.

“I can see them inside,” Robin said, taking Nancy up by the elbow again and pulling her along on the sidewalk. “God, you’re freezing.”

“It’s just the early stage of hypothermia, it’ll be fine,” Nancy said. They stopped about five feet from the doorway of the restaurant. Through the foggy windows of the front she could see the black curls of Bianca and Jonathan’s mousy brown towards the back. She bet she’d have a six pack by the night of the night, judging by the way she was clenching her muscles just at the thought of conversation.

A heavy weight suddenly on her shoulders caused her to break her absent staring contest. She glanced back at Robin, who was now only in her sweater, floral white shirt, and dress pants.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Nancy said. Robin shrugged and shoved her hands into her pockets idly. She kicked at the dust on the sidewalk.

“I wanted to,” She said simply. “Wanna go in?” Nancy pulled the coat closer to her chest and, as they stepped through the tiny doorway into the restaurant, hid her blush behind a puffy sleeve.

“Nancy!” Bianca called out just as soon as they’d stepped in, as if she had some sort of radar beacon set to go off whenever Nancy entered her general vicinity. Nancy gritted her teeth and waved back. They maneuvered their way past the relatively crowded front to their tiny table in the back. Nancy sat across from Jon, Bianca from Robin. She laid the coat on the back of her chair as if it were something priceless.

“It’s cold out tonight, right?” Robin said amicably, rubbing her hands together. Under the table, the side of her flat knocked into Nancy’s heel. With her long legs she often had a difficult time finding room underneath tables. “I’m Robin, by the way.”

“Bianca,” Bianca waved. Her engagement ring glinted in the dim lighting. “And yes. It’s horrible. I grew up in California, I’m not made for this.”

“It’ll be worse on the East coast,” Nancy promised, not necessarily rude but not particularly nice. “I remember weeks like this at Emerson.” Robin’s foot knocked hers again. Nancy knocked back.

“I’m so excited to move to the city, though,” Bianca gushed. “I love New York. All the lights and the people.”

“You gotta walk fast,” Robin laughed. “But we’ll get used to it.” She covered Nancy’s foot with her own.

“Are you moving with Nance in January?” Jonathan spoke up for the first time that evening, gesturing between the two of them. To Nancy’s extreme disappointment, he hardly looked bothered. In fact, he looked pleased. Happy for her, even. She couldn’t stand it.

“Yes!” Robin smiled at Nancy. She reached over to squeeze Nancy’s open palm, which was spread out on the tablecloth and waiting for her. Though she’d been anticipating it, the touch still left her heartbeat spiking. “I’m a writer, so I can really live anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t want to go anywhere without her,” Nancy replied, voice sickly sweet but words painfully true. Bianca smiled big and bright at her. She was beautiful and it hurt. She ached over it.

“Oh, sorry - here’s the menu,” She said suddenly, passing a menu over to Robin and Nancy’s connected hands. “Completely forgot!”

“It’s fine,” Robin promised. As Nancy held the menu up in front of their hands, neither dropped the handhold; even though nobody important was paying attention. “Escargot?”

“Soup,” Nancy corrected. “I’m cold.”

“We order both and share,” Robin suggested. “Just like we did in Paris.”

“I miss those mornings,” Nancy grinned distantly, eyes faraway and back in a place where she’d been desperately happy. “Breaking off baguette pieces.”

“A hearty breakfast,” Robin agreed. “Une pain.” Her French accent was heavy and exaggerated and, as it always did, made Nancy laugh.

The waiter came by then, some well-dressed teenager who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. It reminded Nancy of Robin and Steve at the video store, dull-eyed and joking, doing everything possible to never actually do their jobs.

“I’ll get the duck,” Bianca said sweetly. Jonathan gave the waiter an awkward, tight-lipped smiling in greeting.

“The rib-eye for me.”

“We’ll have the onion soup and the escargot,” Nancy ordered for the both of them, passing the menu back to the silent waiter. He nodded and removed himself swiftly.

“You order for her?” Bianca asked with an eyebrow raised, though her tone was teasing.

“We always end up eating each other’s food anyway,” Robin explained with a shrug. “So - Bianca - what do you do for work?” As she and Bianca launched into an in-depth conversation on the pros and cons of elementary teaching, Nancy sat back in her chair and realized just how easy this was. Pretending to be a couple felt like second nature; almost unspoken, in a way. She supposed they’d already crossed most of the lines.

Sharing food and clothing and holding hands. Vacationing together. Something began to dawn on Nancy that she’d never considered before. Robin caught her eye over the entrees a half hour later, in the middle of laughing over some stupid joke Jon had just told. It clicked. Nancy laughed back.

Outside the restaurant, the four gave their goodbyes. Nancy would no doubt be seeing the couple over for Thanksgiving anyway, but she still found herself getting Bianca a friendly hug before she left. The girl had grown on her - and anyway, a night with Robin would have her shaking the hand of terrorists.

As Robin fished through Nancy’s - her’s, technically - coat pocket to find her keys, Jon tapped Nancy’s upper arm to get her attention. It was one she had never seen before. Perhaps it was new. Perhaps he’d learned it from Bianca.

“You guys seem really happy,” He said. Nancy, suddenly, felt cold water pricking the corners of her eyes. It was overwhelming how much she wanted this. She wanted Robin, like this, forever. It hurt to recognize. Jon squeezed her arm one more time and stepped back.

“So do you,” Nancy choked out.

“Nance! Ready to go?” Robin asked. She’d moved away as she and Jon had begun to speak, patting Bianca on the back with a promise of going out for coffee once both couples had settled into the city. Nancy wiped at her eyes with the back of her sweater. Jonathan, to his credit, pretended not to notice.

“Sure,” She said. The play was over.

Back inside Robin’s car, the silence was overbearing. Robin turned the key slowly. All the fervor from the drive over was drained out of her. Nancy watched Bianca tuck herself into Jonathan’s side as they walked down the sidewalk together. Unbeknownst to her, Robin watched Nancy.

“What’d he say to you?” Robin asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Nancy said. Robin tsked in the back of her throat, shaking her head.

“Clearly he said something wrong, you’re crying,” She murmured. As Nancy looked down toward her tangled hands in her lap, Robin reached over with a soft finger to wipe underneath her eye.

“It’s fine,” Nancy muttered.

“Tell me.” Robin’s voice was soft but firm, as she tended to be. And Nancy could never refuse anything Robin told her to do.

“He said he was glad I was happy,” Nancy admitted. She lifted her head but not her eyes, focusing only on the center dash controls instead of Robin’s eyes. If she looked up, it’d be over.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Robin said. “Isn’t that what you wanted? For him to think you’re doing well?”

“I wish I was actually doing well, Rob,” Nancy replied bitterly.

“Who says you’re not?” Robin retorted. “You don’t have to follow the normal line of college-marriage-kids to be happy. You know you’d never be satisfied with that. It’s not your fault.”

“That’s not the issue,” Nancy all but groaned, flopping her head back onto the carseat and screwing her eyes shut.

“Tell me, then.”

“I wish it were real.” The words came out nearly unintelligible. Rushed. Nancy desperately hoped Robin could not decipher it.

“You wish…what, the date?” Robin asked.

“This,” Nancy explained harshly, gesturing in between the two of them. She mustered enough courage to look up at Robin. She was staring at Nancy. Her face was slack. It was difficult to read her expression through the darkness of the parking lot, shrouded halfway by darkness.

“Us?” Robin’s voice was carefully quiet.

“I want the apartment and the cat and the stupid baguettes,” Nancy said, embarassed to find she was already on the verge of tears once again. It was just - all these feelings suddenly erupting to the surface, all with the name ROBIN BUCKLEY written across. In bright, unavoidable ink. It was a death sentence, loving her so much. “I want you. I want to be happy with you in every sense of the word. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Robin asked. Nancy stared at her incredulously as Robin began to grin. It was slow but definitely there, a soft rising sun on the bottom half of her face.

“Why am I-” Nancy scoffed, shaking her head and turning to look resolutely out the window. Bianca and Jonathan had disappeared, the sidewalk blissfully empty. “Because I just destroyed our friendship. Because I wanted to make Jonathan Byers jealous. Jonathan Byers. I haven’t cared about his opinion of me in years!”

“I, for one, had a great time making Jonathan Byers jealous,” Robin said. Nancy could hear the grin in her voice. “You shouldn’t apologize, Nance, because I - I’m on the same page.”

And then, and then - blissfully, thankfully, like a dream - Robin’s hand appeared in Nancy’s peripheral vision to grab onto her chin and yank her head the opposite direction. Nancy had barely enough time to part her mouth in an unspoken question before Robin was kissing her fiercely. Her lips were pleasantly dry, thoroughly bitten through by an anxious mouth. Nancy liked the way Robin’s fingers gripped her chin and cheek, pulling her close and closer still to get better access to her mouth.

They pulled apart after a fierce conversation with only tongue and lip, so aggressive Robin’s pants came out in visible bursts of air. Nancy could feel her breath hit the tip of her nose, they were that close.

“Don’t apologize,” Robin repeated breathlessly.

“Okay,” Nancy agreed, equally as out of breath. “Sure.”

“He deserved a little payback anyway,” Robin said. Nancy blinked. She’d forgotten a world existed outside of Robin Buckley’s mouth.

“Who?”

“Jonathan,” Robin said, as if Nancy should’ve realized. “For making me jealous everyday of senior year.”

“Seriously?”

“Who doesn’t want to share baguettes with Nancy Wheeler?” Robin replied incredulously. Nancy kissed her again, because words were useless when it came to matters of love like this. Robin didn’t seem to mind.

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nancywheelersgirlfriend · 2 years

Text

the pleasure is mine (to die by your side)

(3,103 words) read on ao3 :)

It was 1994 and Robin Buckley woke up with no blankets on her side of the bed. She wasn’t particularly surprised - even when the harsh winter weather wasn’t raging outside their bedroom window, Nancy was infamous for stealing the covers over the course of the night. It wasn’t her fault. It was innate. Some secret urge to be warm. Robin ran hot, anyway. Her metabolism made her a human furnace.

So when she blinked awake at a bleary six in the morning, eager to turn back over and frankly not wake up again for the next three days, Robin simply turned over on her side. She tossed a haphazard arm over where she guess-estimated Nancy’s shoulder was underneath the pile of fabric. She pulled the lump closer to her chest and let out a contented little hum; just like a furnace.

Robin hand pawed at the comforter, yanking it down far enough to both ensure Nancy’s ability to breathe and press a kiss to the side of her warm neck. She splayed her fingers out at the base of Nancy’s collarbone where her ratty sleepshirt had slipped over the course of a turbulent night. She nuzzled her nose against Nancy’s curls. They spread out over the pillow like a biblical halo.

“‘m up,” Nancy mumbled. She clearly wasn’t. Robin pressed her responding grin into her hair and nodded encouragingly. “Did you have good dreams?”

“Yeah,” Robin said. Her foot, reaching forwards in exploration, hit the end of the comforter. Score! “I dreamt I got to wake up next to the most beautiful girl in the world, cold as shit.”

“Aw,” Nancy drew out the word, trying and failing to turn herself over in the mass of comforter and limb. “Baby, ‘m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Now you can warm me up,” Robin replied, mischievous toothy grin carefully disguised by the dark room as her absolutely freezing foot dug its way underneath the comforter and landed on Nancy’s leg. Nancy immediately sprung upwards, yelping as she leapt into a sitting position. Robin nearly got herself knocked off the bed.

“You bitch!” Nancy accused, but it was hard to sound serious when she was laughing so much. Underneath the comforter, which had flown half up in the chaos, Robin took the opportunity to slip completely underneath. Inside the blanket it felt like a womb. Nancy’s laughter was dimmed but no less beautiful. Robin lunged on her legs, shimmying up her hips, her waist. She pressed a quick kiss to the mole on Nancy’s left hip. Her face popped out from the line of the comforter.

Robin grinned up at Nancy, hair all mussed and arms coming to wrap their way around Nancy’s waist. Together they tumbled back down onto the bed, Robin and Nancy no longer two people but one ball of warmth.

“Let’s sleep in,” Robin suggested. Nancy turned Robin’s head with her hand to press a smacking kiss to her cheek.

“Let’s stay here forever,” Nancy added. Robin’s hand squeezed her thigh in a resounding ‘hell yes’.

* * *

Robin -

Yes we’re fine and no, we don’t need money. Come down and visit us sometime. New Hampshire isn’t that far from Greenwich, seriously. Plus you guys have a car - pretty lucky for that. Mike wants to save up but I don’t see the need. If we had a car, we’d have to go to Hawkins. That sounds like Hell. So we got a cat instead. Picture included, of course. But you’ll have to come down to touch her. Mike says I should enclose a bit of her fur as a test sample for you two. Why do I love him again?

* * *

Robin looked up at Nancy’s hazy form, disguised by the steam coming off of her abnormally large coffee mug. She was gorgeously tired. Sat in a little cafe somewhere in Bath, where the brick walls peeled themselves apart and the barista gave up her post to chat up the guy working the pick-up window, they had breakfast.

“You want a bite of my croissant?” Nancy asked. She was picking apart her pastry. The little flakes fell to the plate.

“Let’s trade,” Robin agreed. She pushed over a bite of her cinnamon roll. Nancy dropped a piece of hers into Robin’s open palm, brushing their fingers together as she did. They ate them at the same time and smiled around their food.

Nancy nudged the side of her foot against Robin’s big combat boots. She scribbled something down on the open and inked-up notepad on the desk in front of her.

“Whatcha writing?” Robin asked, nodding down at the offending paper. Nancy passed it over to her, laughing as she watched her quickly lick off the sugar icing as to not dirty the pad. Robin squinted her tired eyes, red-faced and fresh. A child. “Hm. Red wheelbarrow. Red hair. Who’s got red hair?” She tilted her head. Nancy reached over and tugged representatively at a strand fallen out from behind Robin’s pink-tipped ear.

“You’re so red all the time,” Nancy said.

“Is that a good thing?” Robin replied. She leaned down to take a tentative sip of her burning hot coffee. It scalded her tongue. It reminded her of being alive. She smiled into the rim of the mug.

“What color am I?” Nancy asked, moving forward to rest her chin on her open palm. Robin hummed contemplatively and dipped a finger in Nancy’s tea. It was equally hot and swirling. Nancy paid no mind.

“You’re green,” Robin said decisively. Nancy raised a questioning eyebrow and stole another piece of Robin’s cinnamon roll. “Like the forests back home.”

“And the forests here aren’t green?” Nancy asked, laughing.

“It’s a different kind of green,” Robin elaborated. She passed Nancy back her notepad, watching as she jotted down two words - different greens - in the margins of her work-in-progress poem. “It’s a warmer green. Even though you run cold.”

“You’re not red just because you’re burning hot all the time,” Nancy protested. She held up her tea cup in offering. Robin took it and tasted it experimentally. It tasted like floral. It smelled like Nancy. The green coloring swam in front of her eyes. She loved this coffee shop.

“We’re Christmas colors,” Robin gasped. Nancy stole her coffee mug out from underneath her hand.

“I’ll toast to that.” When they knocked their mugs together, the liquids splashed into each other.

* * *

Anyway, El’s been begging to go see the beach, so I think we’ll head out soon enough. She’s just finishing her last exams and then we’ll have the winter off. She finally decided she wanted to study biology. I think it’s perfect for her. And Lucas’ book - it’s great. Just great. If you want, we can send you a copy. He’ll sign it and everything. He’s very excited. I hope you’re doing well.

Love always,

Mad Max

* * *

Robin tucked her nose into the warm fabric of her scarf. On the cobblestone street of their little backwater town, the ground was getting littered with snow. Nancy was a few feet in front of her, gloved hands picking at a haphazard stack of books outside. They rested atop packed cardboard boxes, scribbled on with unreadable words and backlit by the yellow-stained windows of the bookshop they were in front of. A red, messy sign that read ‘ONE DOLLAR’ was taped and half-off the main table.

“Anything good?” Robin asked, words muffled by the thick wool. Her scarf was roughly knit, a gift from Joyce Byers (who was attempting to find something else to do with her hands besides chain-smoking).

“A signed copy of Frankenstein,” Nancy said, shaking a small paperback around enticingly.

“Signed?” Robin repeated incredulously.

“I didn’t say by who,” Nancy laughed. Robin snatched the book from her willing hands, cracking it open to the inside of the front cover. Therein lied a note written by blue pen: to suzie christmas 1960. “Wonder why Suzie gave it up.” Robin furiously flipped through the pages, uncaring that it was decades old. As she did so, a group of about twenty pages suddenly came apart from the spine and fell onto the snow-covered ground. The two women watched it flutter down, barely holding back their laughter.

“Probably that,” Robin said. She handed Nancy the book, who tucked it back into the book Jenga game in front of them. “You wanna go in?”

“Did you even have to ask?” Nancy replied. As they squeezed their way through the tiny, handbuilt doorway, Robin let her fingertips brush Nancy’s waist. It was a dangerous game, even in their sweet, sleepy little town. The older woman at the register seemed seconds away from passing out. Robin let her fingers stay on Nancy’s waist.

“History section?” Robin suggested, letting her eager eyes stray down the stacks of bending bookcases. She caught a glimpse of a book about ancient Europe and nearly foamed at the mouth from excitement.

“Science fiction!” Nancy argued. Robin followed her dutifully.

“Haven’t you lived through enough?” She groaned dramatically, leaning on the shelf as Nancy shifted meticulously through the books. Robin registered how far back they’d gotten in the bookstore - nearly at the back. They were completely alone. As she watched Nancy pick out the leftovers of the shelf in front of her, she shook off her scarf.

“They’re raising the prices,” Nancy muttered absently, flipping with fast fingers through the Ks and Ls. Robin draped her scarf around Nancy’s neck. The wool fell in front of her eyes.

“Guess who,” Robin sing-songed. Nancy’s hand came up to yank down at the fabric, smirking up at her much taller girlfriend. She stepped back so that her back hit Robin’s chest, pressing them together.

“Hello, beautiful,” Nancy said, tilting her head up to meet eyes with Robin. The scarf fell to the floor, completely forgotten. Robin’s hand drifted to grab at Nancy’s chin, holding her face in place as she leaned down and connected their lips. Nancy laughed at the position, spinning in place to fully face Robin in between the tight bookshelves. Robin squeezed her chin and then dropped her arms to wrap them around Nancy’s waist. She yanked her closer. They melted together.

Robin slowly pressed Nancy into the bookshelf, wooden grooves and all. She tilted her head and suddenly her mouth was falling open in pure contentment, Nancy responding tenfold. Her hands shot up to grip at Robin’s hair - a habit Robin loved teasing her about.

She whimpered into Robin’s mouth, a quiet little noise Robin heard like a bomb. She pushed her farther into the shelf in reply. One of her hands balled up a bit of Nancy’s sweater in her fist, fingertips skimming her skin. As they tussled against the stack, a group of hastily stacked books fell to the floor.

Robin pulled back, eyes deer-like and scared. But the woman at the front made no move to come back and see them. She kept Nancy close to her chest, both blinking back to the present.

“You make me forget where I am,” Robin told her as Nancy bent down to grab at the poor, damaged books. Nancy set them back onto the bookshelf with a final pat to their covers.

“You make me forget I’m alive,” Nancy retorted. She scooped up the scarf and tossed it around her neck with a wink. It looked much better on her, Robin thought. Everything was beautiful on Nancy Wheeler.

* * *

Nance and Rob,

We’ve got a guest room with clean sheets if you want it. Come out and escape the New Hampshire snow.

Jon and Argyle

* * *

The dimly lit sign nailed up outside the teensy church said the Christmas candlelit service was at 8 o’clock. Robin tilted her head to check it out, admiring the lopsided Jesus figure atop the sign. She resisted the urge to fix its position.

“Snowball?” Nancy offered from a few feet away. Robin turned on her heel just as Nancy was pitching back and tossing said weapon, which she’d balled up from the multitude of snow at her feet. Robin raised her hands too slowly. The snowball hit her square in the chest, soaking through her coat. She grinned challengingly and made a ‘come here’ motion with her hands. “No, no, I already gave it to you!”

“I want to return the favor,” Robin protested, bending halfway over to scoop at snow blindly - she couldn’t tear her eyes from a pink-cheeked Nancy even if she wanted to.

“You really don’t have to,” Nancy reassured, but it was too late. Robin threw the snowball way over her head - it hit the back of Nancy’s hip as she shrieked and leapt away.

“No, no, you ran away,” Robin said, words dipped in laughter. “Come back, let me get you again.”

“I think one was enough!” Nancy squealed as Robin rushed forwards like a bull, hands piled high with snow. “Rob!”

“Come here, you coward!” Robin accused, but it hardly held any weight with how much she was giggling. Nancy dodged again. Robin scooped up more snow and stumbled forwards, puffing out her cheeks and turning a little green.

“Rob?” Nancy asked, all concerned. She stepped forward, hand on Robin’s shoulder. Robin grinned mischievously up at her for a second before she made a gagging sound. She pretended to throw up the snow all down Nancy’s coat, stumbling into her and her hand. Nancy gasped from the sudden cold. “Robin Buckley!”

“It’d sound better with Wheeler after it, wouldn’t it?” Robin said, grinning like a fox. Nancy rolled her eyes affectionately. She let Robin pull her in close, pressing their equally soaked chests together for warmth.

“I dunno, I think Nancy Buckley has a good ring to it,” Nancy mused. Unbeknownst to Robin, she began to shuffle snow with her heels.

“You would never give up your last name,” Robin argued. Nancy hummed in agreement, reaching up with one hand to cart her fingers through Robin’s shaggy hair. As her girlfriends’ eyes shut in contentment, Nancy reached down with her other hand and grabbed loosely at snow. She slammed it down onto Robin’s head. The snow leaked down onto her face as her eyes snapped open, betrayed.

“You traitor!” Robin shouted. She barreled into Nancy, sending them both tumbling onto the snow. They rolled around in the snow, tussling for control and better access to ammo, getting increasingly colder and wetter as they went. Robin shoved snow down Nancy’s sweater along her spine. Nancy managed to get a few flakes into Robin’s open, accusatory mouth.

“Truce?” Robin gasped, chest heaving as she flopped onto her back in the snow. The steeple above, towering over them like God himself, peered over her. Nancy’s face, flushed and beautiful, appeared for a moment before she was flopping down beside her.

“Truce,” Nancy agreed, equally exhausted. Her gloved hand flopped out on the snow to grab at Robin’s hand. Their fingers tangled together. It was a ball of warmth. Robin shut her eyes and let out a sigh, breathing in the smell of snow.

* * *

Robin, please please please let me come over and visit. I’m so sick of Oregon. Okay, that’s a lie. I love Oregon. I love teaching. But I want to see you. Maybe become a Robert Frost. Maybe read some Nancy Wheeler poetry. Maybe ordain your wedding? Kidding. Kind of. Call me!

Your best friend,

Steve

* * *

Robin squinted into the lit fireplace, embers sizzling as it kickstarted itself. Outside the snowstorm raged. On the coffee table in front of her was a spread of letters and postcards, collected from friends. All waiting to be responded to. They’d been silent for too long.

But as she watched Nancy putter around in the kitchen, cooking up a batch of rocky road cookies and working on another round of coffee, Robin couldn’t help wishing they were the only two people in the world. Living in this little cottage off the side of the road, surrounded by mountains and wind and birch trees, it felt like they were. She smiled to herself. Nancy swore as she burnt the tip of her pointer on the hot, rumbling oven.

“Cookies are almost done!” Nancy called out, turning her head in Robin’s vague direction. She knew where she was. She looked almost shrunken in the low doorway from the living room to the kitchen, the doorway Robin had to duck through everytime she passed - or hit her forehead on the rim as a consequence of not thinking. Still Robin appreciated the hobbit hole. She liked feeling so close and so small. She’d never been able to feel that way before, at least not positively.

It was hard to believe anything had happened. Hard to believe it would never happen again. She let herself close her eyes and shift on their lumpy couch, head to the plush back and body warmed by the fire. The letters spoke like her friends. Robin wished they were here, in person. Then again, it was nice for everybody to be somewhere else.

“You wanna lick the spoon?” Nancy asked, waving around the spoon enticingly. She pretended to drop it into the sink, laughing as Robin’s face twisted up in childish pain. “You know I would never!”

“Nance, you’re evil,” Robin promised. She managed to get up off the couch anyway, stumbling through the doorway (ducking her head) to reach her girlfriend. She came to stand beside Nancy in front of the oven. The cookies within rose like little babies. Nancy passed her the spoon. Robin gave her a kiss on the cheek as thank you. She devoured the leftover batter like a starved man. Nancy just laughed. She looked adorable in her overalls, too big for her body and perfect for her soul.

“You’re a child,” Nancy retorted, leaning up against the counter a with a grin. Robin shrugged, unaffected. She dropped the spoon into the waiting bowl, which had been disposited in the sink. Soapy water splashed up onto the sides of her long sweater sleeves.

“You love me,” Robin challenged. Nancy reached up to twirl a bit of Robin’s hair around her finger and nodded in easy agreement.

“I do,” Nancy said. “I will.”

“Forever?” Robin asked. Nancy pursed her lips, the smile on her face that seemed permanent whenever she looked at Robin. She stepped closer and watched.

“Longer than that,” Nancy promised.

“Cheeseball.”

“Nerd,” Robin replied snarkily. When she leaned down to kiss Nancy, she met her halfway - arms around her neck, feet stepping on each other, the whole shebang. The oven dinged tellingly. Robin tightened her grip on Nancy’s waist. There was no point in letting her go.

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