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"Whoa, this is such an old people house."
"Well yeah, obviously," Nancy said, locking the door behind her. It was an old people house. It was her grandparents' house, and they were old people. She turned around to see Robin already manhandling her Nana's Hummel figurines. "Can you just... be careful with those."
"What even are they?" Robin asked, touching everything."This kid has a beer, and I'm pretty sure this other kid has a job, and they're what, like five years old? Your grandparents are into some pretty scandalous stuff. Where are they again? Following Billy Idol on tour?"
Nancy shook her head and tried to hide a smile. "They're in Florida, watching golf."
"Oh jeez," Robin laughed. She pulled a face and jerked her hands back from the shelf as if golf were contagious. "I think I'd rather vacation in Vecna's mind palace."
"I've been there," Nancy said. It came out harsher than she intended, like it always did. She offered Robin a smile as best she could manage. "I know it's hard to believe but golf is actually pretty nice by comparison."
"Right." Robin blushed a little, Nancy thought, and scratched the back of her head. Awkward. Cute. "I'll uh. I'll take your word for it. Hopefully, I mean."
"Yeah," Nancy agreed. "Hopefully."
There was a silence that stretched on for probably only a few seconds, but it felt like a few seconds too long. Like wasted time, even though she had nowhere else to be for the foreseeable future.
"We need to open the windows, my mom said. Air it out for a while," Nancy broke the quiet. "Do you want to get the upstairs windows while I do down here? You can snoop as much as you want as long as you don't break anything."
Robin's eyes flashed some mischievous kind of disbelief at her luck. "Deal," she said, throwing Nancy a lazy salute. "Nobody's secrets are safe from me. I'll do you proud, Nancy Drew."
Nancy rolled her eyes at the nickname, but she didn't honestly mind it coming from Robin. Everything sounded different coming from her, and it was hard to mind any of it at all when it was Robin's raspy voice saying it. Hard to hate anything she did when she did it with her lanky enthusiasm. She was annoying, and annoyingly impossible for Nancy to actually be annoyed with. She took the stairs two at a time with her long legs, disregarding her own oft-acknowledged clumsiness, and-
"Look out for the lamp!" Nancy called, remembering, and wincing at the inevitable crash, like clockwork.
"Sorry!" Robin called back. "There was a lamp! But everything is okay!"
Nancy enjoyed the ritual of getting here. Of slipping her heels off on the mat next to the front door, hanging her purse on a hook in the hall. Putting the mail she had grabbed on the way in on top of the stack on the side table next to the living room phone. Opening every window enough to feel the air start to move, and then moving along to the next one.
She moved through the main floor, unhurried, cracking the windows and letting the air in like she was supposed to. It was a perfect day, that almost-summer kind of almost-hot that felt like it could last forever, before the humidity could roll in and turn that endlessness against itself.
She left the shades drawn mostly down, the curtains mostly closed, so the sun couldn't get in and warm the place up too much and the neighbours wouldn't be too tempted to bother them, but the light crept in around the edges in glorious slashes across the peaceful dim. Nancy took her time moving through the familiar house, enjoying the domestic quiet broken only by the birdsong and the occasional sound of a passing car outside, and the comforting thud of Robin's footsteps on the hardwood upstairs, because Nancy had forgotten to ask her to take her boots off at the door.
If her grandparents ever complained about the dirt tracked in, Nancy would blame it on Mike.
She moved into the kitchen, double checking out of habit that the oven was off and the fridge was cold, that nothing was dangerous or spoiled. And then she opened the window over the sink, and the one next to the little round kitchen table where she had eaten pancakes with her grandparents before even Mike had been born, an ashtray sitting in the middle of the table like it had for her entire life.
She opened that window a little wider than the rest and pulled the shade all the way up so she could look out over the lush green of the backyard, sitting in a chair she had sat in more times that she could count by now, as she waited for the ambling noise of Robin coming down the stairs.
"Can you leave your shoes by the door?" She called out when she heard Robin coming down, and then she heard the clunk of boots falling haphazard on the floor, and the almost inaudible sound of socked feet on shag carpeting.
Nancy just watched and waited as Robin meandered into the kitchen finally, trailing a hand along the molding. "This is actually a really cute house even if it is an old people house- Oh! Can I?" Robin pointed at the ashtray and the open window.
"If you're sharing," Nancy nodded. She waited as Robin pulled out a chair, and she didn't even flinch at the sound it made scraping over the tile. She knew that sound. It could not surprise her.
"Nope, sorry," Robin said. "You'll just have to watch." But she was smiling, and already pulling the baggie from her shirt pocket, and she always shared everything. She liked to share, she said.
"I'll take what I can get," Nancy murmured. She watched Robin's fidgeting fingers go steadily through the practiced motions of shaking and packing and rolling, watched her tongue lick carefully along the paper, just barely wet. "I can't believe you bring that to work with you."
"My job doesn't really deserve or require sobriety. If you had to listen to Steve flirt all day every day maybe you'd be more sympathetic," Robin insisted. She lit the joint and hit it and then offered it to Nancy before exhaling. "Are you sure this is okay? We won't get in trouble?"
Nancy took her time answering, basking first in the burn of the inhale and the relief of letting it back out. The feeling of her other hand resting in the sun-warmed patch of light on the tabletop and the gentle noise of the neighborhood going about its business on the other side of the window. She passed the joint back and watched Robin's lips touch it right where hers had just been.
"I don't know," she said finally. "It doesn't really matter. They're gone for another month. If anybody says anything I'll just act offended at the accusation."
"Does that work?" Robin asked, laughing a little, coughing just a little. She still had her work vest on, her name tag and all of her ridiculous buttons.
Nancy had liberated her from Family Video that morning by the grace of Steve Harrington agreeing to cover the rest of the slow Tuesday shift on his own. Go ahead, I owe you one anyway he had said, and it wasn't clear which one of them it was directed at. Maybe he'd been talking to both of them. None of them owed each other anything exactly, but the gesture was nice. Nancy appreciated it. She liked listening to Robin talk in the car, it made the long drive more bearable. She liked having Robin here with her to make the empty house less empty. She felt less like an invader and more like a host, showing her around.
"Nobody really wants to believe I would do anything wrong," Nancy said. She watched Robin's face as she said it, the makeup smudged in the crinkles of her eyes and the slow little smile of being in on the joke. The concave pull of her cheeks as she inhaled. Nancy could watch her forever. "Except my mom, I guess. But this would reflect poorly on her parenting if she admitted it was my fault so I'm probably safe."
Robin laughed again. "Right on," she said.
They passed the joint back and forth until it was done, and then Nancy excused herself to the bathroom to splash water on her warm face and dump the ashtray down the toilet. She stared at herself in the mirror for a little too long. She looked like she had been smoking. It didn't really matter.
When she came back out, she found Robin sprawled on the paisley couch in the living room, one foot poking over the arm, the other leg hanging down off the side. Her work vest and tie half-falling off the coffee table where she'd shed them. She looked loose and comfortable, like a visual manifestation of the fuzzy niceness Nancy was feeling from the weed and the warmth of the day. Nancy climbed into her grandfather's oversized armchair, sitting in it the way she always wanted to but was never allowed to when he was home, sideways with her legs hanging over the arm, the cushion fat and soft under the bend of her knees. She listened to the ticking of the clock on the wall and closed her eyes.
"Is that your room, up there?" Robin broke the silence with a question, and Nancy was glad to hear her voice. "The one with the bunkbeds and the bunny rabbits?"
Nancy nodded. She wasn't sure if Robin was even looking at her but she nodded anyway. "Me and Holly, yeah, when we stay over. We haven't in a long time though."
"It's cute," Robin said. Nancy looked over at her, at the lazy smile on her face that was maybe supposed to be sarcastic, but on Robin it just looked pretty.
"It's the same as it's been since I was little. Mike used to sleep in there with me until Holly came along and then they gave him his own room." She could remember being small in this house in a way that was harder to conjure in her own. It felt less like real life here. Some liminal space where time could stand still.
"That's overt misogyny. You're the oldest, you should get your own room," Robin insisted.
"I agree with you on principle, but I honestly don't really mind having a sleepover with Holly every once in a while," Nancy realized it was true as she said it. She realized she missed her little sister, was missing her, too much of the time. She wanted to be better about being a big sister. Wanted to use her time better, when she got back.
"Bottom or top?" Robin asked. There was the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks when Nancy glanced over. "Bunk, I mean. Which one is yours?"
"Oh, um. The top one. Holly's too scared to sleep up there alone. But she climbs up to sleep with me when we're here so I don't know, maybe she's faking it." It had been years since they'd last slept over here, Holly had still been a toddler. Nancy wondered if she was still afraid of the top bunk, if she'd even ever been. Nancy wondered if she'd still climb up to cuddle. "I guess it doesn't matter. It's nice. I don't mind."
"Yeah," Robin agreed. She let the almost-silence stretch on around them, utterly peaceful but for the ticking of the clock. Soft and dreamlike until Robin's voice brought Nancy back to reality. "Your grandparents have separate beds."
"So? They always have." Nancy hadn't ever given it much thought. Two beds, two dressers. Perfume bottles and jewelry boxes on one side, cologne and neckties on the other. Like an invisible line drawn down the middle of the room, dividing this from that.
"Okay, but where do they... You know." Robin looked over at Nancy, her eyebrows raised expectantly. Nancy felt her own face pull into some small grimace, and she listened for the wind-chime refrain of Robin's soft laughter in response. Nancy was un-teasable so much of the time, too locked-in on whatever was the mission of the day to be bothered, but when Robin found a rare opening she delighted in it, and Nancy let her. "I mean do you think they schedule it? I didn't find a calendar but do you think it's like grandma's bed on Tuesdays, grandpa's on thursdays?"
"Robin, they're like sixty years old," Nancy tried weakly to change the subject. She knew it wouldn't work. Robin had that look in her eyes she got when she wanted to talk.
"Well I still plan on having sex when I'm sixty, don't you? What else is there to do when you're retired, anyway? Go to Florida and watch golf? No thank you." Robin was rolled on her back now on the couch, speaking and gesturing at the ceiling in that unselfconscious way she talked around Steve. Nancy had been jealous, a little bit, of whatever their relationship was, their connection. But then the first time she stopped into Family Video after spring break they had invited her into whatever inane argument they were having without skipping a beat, and she had realized oh, this is what friendship feels like. It had hurt, almost. How easy it was. Knowing that this had been an option all along if she had ever even thought for a second about taking it. But she got used to it, the almost-enough of it, and now she was being rewarded by a half-stoned Robin Buckley monologuing at the ceiling about Nancy's grandparents' sex lives.
She laughed at the ridiculousness of it, and Robin looked over at her with a dopey smile and eyes that looked even bluer red-rimmed from smoking.
"What?" Robin asked. She was so cute that Nancy had to shut her eyes, as if she could ever forget.
"No, I've just... I've never really thought about it," she said, pressing her palms to her eyes to feel the relative coolness of her hands against her too-warm face.
"God, I think about it all the time," Robin groaned.
Nancy snuck a peek out between her fingers to see Robin with her own hands pressed to her face. She wanted to laugh again.
"You think about my grandparents having sex?" Nancy asked, still peeking through her hands. And then Robin was peeking back, and it was so stupid that she did laugh, just a little, until Robin covered her eyes and groaned again, muffled and rough.
"No," Robin said. She laughed, once, and wiped her hands up over her face and into her hair. "Just... sex. Like in general. Just, all the time. It's like I can't stop thinking about it. It's debilitating. Like maybe on the outside I look like I have my shit together-"
Nancy couldn't suppress a snort at that. Robin's shoes had boobs drawn all over them, and her socks had nothing to do with one another. Her shirt had a ketchup stain above the pocket and an ink stain below it, and her necktie had been knotted in a technique Nancy was pretty sure was previously unknown to mankind.
"Hey-" Robin laughed, and she flung the throw pillow from behind her head across the coffee table at Nancy. Nancy caught it and hugged it to her chest, and Robin was left with no choice but to lay her head down flat on the couch. "You could at least pretend to be sympathetic."
"Who do you think about?" Nancy asked, letting the question out because she really did want to know.
"What?" Robin asked, like she was offended or embarrassed, like it was a crazy thing to ask.
"What?" Nancy asked back. "I mean I know it's... girls, obviously. But like... who? What's your type? Who do you like? Who do you think about?"
"I just... Nobody," Robin shook her head. "Do you ever stop investigating?"
"Does it bother you?" Nancy asked, and she was investigating now, she knew. But she had to ask the questions, and she had to hear the answers.
"No," Robin answered too quickly. "I'm not... bothered."
"You look a little bothered," Nancy accused. She had meant it to come out teasing, but she felt a little bad about it when Robin didn't respond, only swallowing heavily. Nancy tried to let up, but it was like she couldn't stop herself. "Come on. Who do you think about, all the time?"
"Well," Robin replied, swallowing again. Taking her time. Holding eye contact. "Just now, I was thinking about your grandparents, and they seem like a lovely couple but honestly it isn't really doing much for me."
"Stop talking about my grandparents." Nancy didn't blink. "Who do you think about?"
"Can I have my pillow back?" Robin changed the subject but didn't break eye contact.
Nancy narrowed her eyes, but relented. She sighed and rolled herself out of the chair, and she knew it probably looked silly from the way she heard Robin laugh, but she liked to make Robin laugh, and she didn't really mind looking silly in front of her.
She rounded the coffee table and sat down on it, lightly, resting her weight on it only barely because she didn't want to add a broken table to the list of things she was going to have to answer for when her grandparents eventually came home.
"Who do you think about?" Nancy asked again. She held the pillow out to Robin, and she watched her take it, felt the weight of it change hands and watched Robin sit up just enough to slide it back in behind her, watched her head settle back down.
Robin scrunched her face up a little. It meant, Nancy thought, that she knew the answer, and that she didn't want to say it. It meant that she would say it anyway. So Nancy just waited and watched her decide. She swallowed, and looked back at Nancy and shook her head. She laughed, not like a joke at all really. Like a challenge.
"What if I said I thought about you?" Robin asked, finally, the eye contact almost unbearable now even after that brief reprieve. "What would you do?"
Nancy couldn't take it any more. She looked down at her hands clasped primly in her lap, at her bare knees sticking out of her skirt and her matching white socks and at the green shag carpet on the floor, springy and soft underneath her feet. She looked back up at the blush on Robin's cheeks and the worry in her eyes she was trying to hide under a furrowed brow.
"What would you want me to do?" Nancy asked.
"I don't know, just-" Robin ran her hands roughly back through her hair again, messing it up. She laughed, and she kind of looked like she wanted to cry. "Don't hate me, I guess?"
"What? No, Robin. I would never hate you," Nancy insisted. She didn't think she could ever hate Robin for anything. Especially not for something like this. Especially not when- "It's- There's nothing wrong with that, anyway. It's not like I've never thought about it. It's normal."
"It's- You've-" Robin stared at her, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed. Nancy pictured tiny tweeting birds flying around her head like in the cartoons, and she busted out laughing. Robin's face relaxed a little, slowly. She tilted her head on the pillow, and then finally she laughed too. "You're fucking with me. Jesus, Nance. I think you broke my brain for a second there."
Nancy let her laughter burn itself out. It took a while, with Robin still looking at her with that half-awake half-smile on her face.
"Jesus," Robin said again. "You can't just say things like that to me."
"What?" Nancy asked, still laughing a little. The coffee table was digging into the backs of her legs. Robin's hair was a mess catching gold in the rays of sunlight sneaking in around the blinds. Her cheeks were pink and freckled and her mouth was almost red, and for the life of her Nancy couldn't ever have said what compelled her to stand up in that moment.
"What are you doing?" Robin asked, and it was a good question because Nancy didn't even really know either, until she did.
"The coffee table is uncomfortable," Nancy answered, her fingers already working on the top buttons of her blouse.
Robin's eyes were wide and awake now, bouncing nervously between Nancy's face and her hands. She scooted backwards enough that she was halfway to sitting up against the arm of the couch. "No, I mean, like-" she swallowed. "Seriously, what are you doing?"
"You asked me what I'd do," Nancy said, and she was thankful that her voice sounded confident. Grateful for once for all of her experience faking that she had any idea what she was doing. "Take off your shirt."
"I'm not wearing anything underneath," Robin argued, her hand going to her collar reflexively. Her fingers settling on the first button maybe of their own volition.
"I know," Nancy said. "Take it off anyway." And she watched Robin's face for a reaction as she shrugged the shirt off her shoulders, clocked that determined little flare of her nostrils and the rise and fall of her brow like this was another fight and she didn't want to lose. She watched Robin unbutton her shirt and pull it off one arm at a time and toss it weakly behind her. It hung off the back of the couch for a second before falling to the floor. She climbed onto Robin's lap, and she had forgotten about this part, that gnawing worry of am I too heavy am I crushing you please tell me if this is okay. She looked down at Robin underneath her, pale and freckled, a thin beam of sunlight slashing down across her body painting that strip of skin golden like honey and Nancy was surprised by how badly she wanted to lick the entire length of it. Surprised by how sure she was. She wondered how long this had been going on.
"Tell me if this is okay," she said out loud, before she could get too far ahead of herself. "Or if it's not."
"It's," Robin stuttered. Her eyes were drifting lazily over Nancy's skin even as her voice picked up panicked steam. "I mean it's- I mean, just for the record I asked you for some sympathy, not for pity, so if this is-"
"Does this look like pity?" Nancy reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, shrugging it off and dropping it in the no-man's-land moat between the couch and the coffee table, and she watched Robin's eyes snap to attention, her mouth dropping open just a little bit more, and Nancy wanted that too.
"No," Robin laughed. "Those look like-"
"If you say what I think you're about to say I am putting my clothes back on," Nancy cut her off.
Robin shut her mouth. Her hands were anywhere but on Nancy. It looked almost casual, the way her right arm hung off the couch, her left hand resting on her own stomach, half covered by the hem of Nancy's skirt, and Nancy wished she had taken the time to take that off too. They sat there quiet for moments on end, the peaceful ambient sounds of the house and the neighborhood indifferent to them. Shirtless, just looking at each other. Breathing and cautious.
Nancy thought about her brother and his friends when they were little. The way they ran around all summer half naked, wrestling and huddling over their weird little boy projects with their arms draped over each other, completely unconcerned about anything. She had been jealous of that freedom, that it was even allowed and that they could embrace it so naturally. It wasn't even that long ago, really. She wondered, if Will had never been taken, if they would still be able to love each other like that, or if it would be different by now. If it would feel something like this, or if they would be afraid that it might.
"I wasn't fucking with you, before." Nancy offered, when it seemed like Robin might never speak again. "When I said I'd thought about it. Not on purpose. But when I... I mean you have to think about something, right? Of course I've thought about it."
"You can't just-" Robin said again. "What do you mean of course?"
"I mean of course," Nancy shrugged. She didn't want it to be a big deal, even if she knew it really was. "You've thought about it too, unless you were fucking with me."
"Yeah but I'm gay, Nancy," Robin laughed. "Of course I've thought about it."
"Well maybe I am too," Nancy argued. She leaned down to punch Robin lightly on the shoulder, still working up the courage to touch her anywhere else, to touch her the way she wanted to. She watched Robin's eyes track her body as she moved, watched her lick her almost-red lips. "Or maybe I'm, I don't know. Something else. Something in between. But it's definitely not straight, at least, the things I've been thinking about."
Robin stared up at her. Finally, she blew out a resigned breath. "Fuck, Nance. I think I'm too high for this," Robin mumbled, and Nancy made a move to sit back, to get off of her and give her back her personal space, but Robin reached out and grabbed at Nancy's skirt to stop her. Nancy wished Robin would have grabbed her arm or her waist or her legs, anywhere on her body she could feel it, but it was hot, anyway. Robin's fist clenching right there, the fabric pulling tight so she could see more of Robin's stomach underneath her, so Robin could see more of her thighs. "No, wait. I didn't mean-" Robin kept talking. "I'm a normal amount of high, I swear. I'm good. I'm fine. I'm- If I'm acting like an idiot right now I promise it's not the weed so much as the overwhelming reality of your boobs in my face."
"Come on, Buckley. Act like you've been here before," Nancy said quietly, as if she had any idea what to do either.
"Nope, impossible." Robin looked up into Nancy's eyes and let her mouth curl up into that dumbstruck smile that Nancy was going to kiss, any minute now. "I'm new here. This is my first day, actually. I'm gonna need the grand tour, I think."
"You're ridiculous," Nancy sighed. Her hands were resting on her knees. She took a hair tie from around her left wrist and lifted her arms to pull her hair up and back, to keep it out of her eyes. And she watched Robin watch her. She was glad she was a little high, more than a little, really. Grateful for the gentle blurring around the edges of her anxiety letting her let herself be looked at like that. It felt good, actually, to let Robin look at her. "Fine. Where do you want to start?"
"Honestly? Can I just look at you a little while longer?" Robin asked like she thought Nancy might say no.
"You've been looking at me," Nancy said softly.
"Yeah but I want to commit every detail of this to memory. If Vecna gets me this is where I want to hide." Robin insisted.
Nancy rolled her eyes. "This? This is your happiest memory?"
Robin laughed. "I think you are either drastically overestimating how happy most of my memories are or you're underselling yourself. Maybe both. If you could see how you look right now, you'd understand."
"I can see you," Nancy said. She took a chance and let her hands drop from her knees to Robin's stomach. She was as soft and warm as she looked, and Nancy let her thumbs dig in just a little bit, just until she heard Robin let out a nervous breath and felt her muscles tense up. She didn't want to push too far or too fast but she was getting tired of being on display with nothing to show for it.
Robin swallowed, an almost cartoonish gulp. "Oh yeah?" she asked. She moved her hands, finally, tentatively, letting go of Nancy's skirt and letting both hands hover over Nancy's bare knees before letting them fall. It tickled almost, the lightness of it, the gentleness, and Nancy had to fight to stay still.
"Yeah," Nancy affirmed. She felt herself leaning forward, the momentum of this scenario taking over. It wasn't even up to her, it felt like. It was inevitable.
"What- uh-" Robin choked on her own words as Nancy's hands slid up her ribcage, stopping when the curves of her thumb and forefinger met their match at the underside of Robin's tits. "Whoa. Fuck. Okay."
"Eloquent," Nancy joked, but frankly she thought Robin had really about summed it up. "You're- But, yeah. I get it, maybe. Looking at you."
"So you're not- I mean. Fuck," Robin laughed. She moved her hands to Nancy's sides, still wary, still only barely touching, her fingers skating so lightly up and down Nancy's ribs she couldn't swear it wasn't just the static electricity she was feeling. "One of us is going to have to say an actual sentence eventually and I don't think it's gonna be me. I'm sorry. Your tits are like perilously close to my face right now, and your back is sweaty, just a little? Which is fine! It's great actually, it's hot. That's not a- It's just that I'm realizing I've never even considered the sweat on your back, and what else haven't I considered? I feel like I don't know anything."
"Well what have you considered?" Nancy asked, trying to slow her down. Investigating again. It helped sometimes, she thought, to narrow things down. And she wanted to know, too, what Robin considered.
"Okay. Well," Robin chewed on her lip, Nancy saw it happen in real time. Saw Robin suck her lower lip into her mouth for a second, and saw her top teeth pinch down, saw her own hand reach out and gently press down on that lip, freeing it. It was wet. "When I picture it? I'm, uh. On top. I guess."
"You've pictured it?" Nancy wondered.
"Well, yeah," Robin smiled. "Like in the movies. You know. That kind of shot, from the side, where they're lying down one on top of the other, and one of them pushes the other one's hair behind their ear. Like, super romantic and slow. The light like this, where it's dim but bright in places, and everything is golden and pretty. Except, I mean. They don't really make movies like that about just girls. Not with happy endings."
"They should," Nancy said. She ran her hands up and down Robin's stomach one more time and then made to move again, to lean back and lie down against the other arm of the couch to let Robin climb on top of her, but Robin didn't let her get that far. She grabbed that fistful of skirt again and said-
"Wait. Let me-" And she sat up, one hand tangled up in Nancy's skirt and the other on her back, and she was impossibly even prettier the closer she got. "I'm gonna-" And her hands were on Nancy's face now, and she was clumsy a little in the haste of it but she was still so soft, and Nancy let herself be pulled down into kissing that mouth she had been staring at for longer than she probably even knew.
She had expected it to be short and sweet, just a kiss, just one singular measurable thing. But Robin didn't seem to want to stop once they started, and Nancy didn't either, so she let her arms drape over Robin's shoulders and let herself fall into it, her muscles loose and her mind relaxed and her skin cool almost everywhere except the hot places where they were pressed together.
Her analytical mind was lost in trying to categorize this, was it one long kiss or so many shorter ones? It was sweet and slow and wet, whatever it was, and it was unbelievable that they let girls that kissed like this work at video stores. That the Robin who let her take home Clue without paying was the same girl who fought monsters was the same girl absolutely demolishing her so unbearably slowly. Nancy would never forget to rewind a tape again. She would rewind this kiss, these kisses, a thousand times. She wound her fingers into the short hair at the back of Robin's neck and pulled just a little, not hard at all, just enough to make her hands feel busy, and she added another soft entry to this rapidly expanding file of Ways in which Robin Buckley is perfect.
When Nancy pulled her hair, Robin pulled her in closer and kissed her harder, and groaned an encouraging little sound into Nancy's mouth that told her at least she wasn't the only one losing her mind right now. And she wouldn't have been embarrassed anyway about the way she was grinding herself down into Robin's lap, it felt too good to feel bad about, but the wet of Robin's tongue and the vibration of her voice and her hands now landing on Nancy's hips and pulling her closer had her all but forgetting any regrets she might ever have felt about anything at all.
She sensed Robin pulling back almost before it even happened, and she decided she wasn't going to allow it. She kept her hands in Robin's hair, kept right on kissing her and let her weight do the work of keeping them close, following and pushing Robin back until she hit the cushions again with a soft little grunt of laughter or protest, and then drowning that out immediately with a moan of her own at the feeling of their chests pressed together all the way down. It was almost everything she wanted, and she didn't want anything else enough to stop now.
"Roll me over if you really want to be on top," Nancy muttered, between kisses, hoping Robin would do it. Robin's hands were gripping tighter now against her ribs, her back, her shoulders. Her earlier hesitation abandoned somewhere along the hazy timeline of this hopefully endless kissing. She wanted to be moved, manhandled. She wanted to be wherever Robin wanted her to be, and she wanted Robin to put her there.
Robin tried, she really did, and she almost got it. Grabbing Nancy hard at her hips and rolling her onto her back, and she was on top, too, for a whole half a second, before she fell off the couch.
"Come back," Nancy laughed, leaning over the edge of the couch to look down at her, her skin flushed all the way down her chest, her blue eyes sparkling, laughing and beautiful.
"God, you're so pretty," Robin said, dopey and dreamy. Her voice was raspier than usual like this, flat on her back and half out of breath. It made Nancy shiver, the sweat cooling on her chest where Robin should be. Robin sat up, resting her chin on her arms on the couch cushions. "Can you take your skirt off?" She asked.
"I can take everything off, if you'll come back up here," Nancy answered. She didn't wait for a counteroffer. The negotiations, she thought, were final. There was no graceful way to do it. She thought about the camera shot Robin envisioned and she envied the imaginary versions of themselves in that movie whose perfectly tailored clothes were somehow also loose enough to fall off effortlessly just in time for the climactic love scene.
The zipper of her skirt was loud in the quiet room, the plastic teeth complaining as she pulled it slowly apart in some pointless attempt at elegance. It didn't matter how silly she might have looked slipping her skirt and underwear down her legs, Robin's eyes were on her body and the expression on her face betrayed every ounce of her appreciation.
"Wow," Robin whispered. She didn't even try to hide the awe in her voice, her nerves apparently fighting their way back to the forefront. But her absolute lack of bravado was refreshing, somehow, even as frustrating as it felt all at the same time. She was sitting on her knees, her anxious hands hovering in the useless space in between them, twitching, almost, with want. "Are you? Can I?" Robin asked, and Nancy nodded. She felt laid out, like a meal, and she needed Robin to dig in already.
Robin laid a hand on Nancy's stomach, warm and flat and soothing. Innocent. Excruciating.
"Get back up here," Nancy demanded with all the authority she could muster, and normally Robin's compliance was all but automatic, but this time she ignored her, or maybe she hadn't heard her in the first place.
Robin was enthralled, it looked like, by her own hand on Nancy's body. Caught up in the sudden reemergence of her own confidence for however long it lasted, she moved her hand smoothly upward, and Nancy bit back a groan at the feeling of it, that steady hot pressure holding her down as Robin's fingers traced up over her ribs and then her breast, her palm and her thumb kneading not quite hard enough. And then Robin was leaning over her and putting that pretty mouth around her nipple and sucking, and Nancy couldn't stand being the only person on this couch anymore.
"Oh my god, Robin, take your fucking pants off and get up here and keep doing that," Nancy growled. She pulled Robin off of her chest by her hair, not roughly but urgently, pulled her up into a wet kiss, and then pushed her gently back on her heels.
"What? I mean yes. Right. Yeah," Robin unbuckled her belt and was still shimmying out of her jeans as she stood up, and Nancy was struck herself suddenly by the full picture of her and the realization that she was actually just as new to some of this as Robin was. Her body wasn't half as confused as her mind, though, thank god. It knew what to do about this naked girl climbing clumsily between her legs and laying her warm weight down over her.
Robin's mouth found its way right back to Nancy's right nipple, and her hand settled onto the left, and Nancy sighed into it, her whole body relaxing into the feeling. She watched Robin's face, her eyes closed and her brow furrowed and determined. She watched the almost absentminded movement of Robin's fingers with their chipped polish, the overbitten cuticle on her right thumb pink and painful looking. Nancy grabbed that hand by the wrist and pulled it to her mouth, kissed those fingers and sucked that thumb between her lips, soothing it with her tongue and squirming under Robin's responsive moan into her tits. When she let Robin's hand go it went right back to work, too wet and slippery to find a good grip anymore, but it felt so fucking good. She wanted to feel that wet all over.
She closed her eyes and tried to slow down, tried to roll with the feeling of Robin's tongue licking flat against her nipple and then her lips closing tight and hard, that little pinch of teeth, the rhythm and the repetition of it reverberating everywhere all at once. Robin's back felt beautiful under Nancy's hands. Her skin was warm like sunlight and her muscles flexed and relaxed under her skin at the same languid pace her mouth was working. Nancy wanted to hold her close enough to feel every satisfied little noise she was making, wanted to wrap herself in the way Robin hummed and moaned as if she were the one getting her tits sucked. And god. Why hadn't Nancy taken advantage when she was on top, what would that feel like, Robin's tits in her mouth and her fingernails digging rough into Nancy's scalp. What noises would she make then?
She felt a little pang of guilt, that maybe she wasn't doing enough, that maybe she should take control or just do something, anything, to make Robin feel half as good even as she was making Nancy feel. But her limbs felt happy to stay where they were and Robin was holding her down in exactly the way she needed, and the sounds Robin was making didn't sound at all like complaints.
She felt Robin's hand drifting, dragging down the side of her chest with a painful slowness, turning inward, brutally soft over her stomach, giving her a thousand unnecessary chances to say no. There wasn't a word for how much she wanted it, yes couldn't even come close, no matter how many times she said it to the ceiling or muffled it with the back of her hand or breathed it into the hair on top of Robin's head. Her legs said yes for her, too, falling open pathetically without Robin even having to ask. Nancy had never begged for anything in her life but her principles felt arbitrary just now, silly and entirely ungrounded in any kind of reality.
The reality was that she wanted to cry when Robin didn't start fucking her immediately, when she only cupped her hand over Nancy's pussy and ground her palm against her with that same slow, relentless rhythm her mouth was so unfairly good at.
Nancy was whimpering, sobbing almost at the feeling of all of it. She knew she was wet, she knew it conceptually and just logically, that she must be, but she had evidence now to support it. The way Robin's hand slid against her, slid over her. Wet. Her fingertips threatening to slip in. Nancy thrust up against her to help them along, but Robin pulled back, and Nancy grabbed almost desperately at her to keep her from stopping.
"Is this okay?" Robin asked. Her eyes looked dazed and her lips were wet and red, spit smeared obscenely down to her chin. The most beautiful person Nancy had ever seen.
"Yeah. No. Yes, I mean." Nancy paused to catch her breath. She held Robin's face, just gently, just to feel her cheekbones and her jaw and the heat of her blush. To push the sweaty hair back out of her eyes like in the movies and to kiss her. To decide what she meant.
"No," she said, finally, when she knew what she needed. "Your mouth. Fuck, Robin. I want your mouth."
Robin stared at Nancy for a long second, eyes searching Nancy's face. But then she groaned and collapsed her full weight down onto Nancy's body, burying her face in the crook of Nancy's neck and shoulder, almost shy. But her hand was still pressing against her, just pressing, in that long slow grind, not shy at all.
"Holy shit," Robin mumbled into Nancy's skin. "That's the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life. Like, not even close. Like, I've been replaying you saying Robin, upstairs for months in my brain trying to imagine you weren't just planning on using me as a human shield in a haunted house but this is, like, a whole different universe of hot. Like-"
"Robin," Nancy interrupted her, pulling her up again by her chin and kissing her until she slowed back down. It worked, like a reset button, and Nancy filed that knowledge away. A trick for dire circumstances, and mundane ones too, maybe. It worked both ways, and she found herself melting back into it, forgetting the urgency of a minute ago until Robin's hand rubbed against her just right, just almost right, and she had to break away again, gasping. "Your mouth. Please."
"Right," Robin nodded. She kissed Nancy one more time. A sweet little kiss, just a peck. For luck, it felt like. "You're welcome. I mean. Yes. I'm on it."
Robin took her time, for the first time in her life, maybe. Nancy had never seen Robin take her time with anything before. Everything she did, physically, verbally, and Nancy could only assume mentally, she barreled through like a scrawny bull in a china shop. But today, right now, every move she made felt slower than the last.
She kissed down Nancy's neck, an inch at a time, soft and then hard and then soft again, nipped at her collarbone, then stalled out at her tits for long enough that Nancy had to wrestle her back on track, tugging with her hand that was wound up again in the back of Robin's hair.
"I'm sorry," Robin laughed and looked up at her, and how had Nancy never noticed her eyelashes before? "I'm going. It's just that I'm pretty sure this is my new favorite hobby." She leaned back down, eyes fluttering closed, and sucked Nancy's nipple into her mouth again, harder this time, and Nancy bucked her whole body into it, chasing anything harder, deeper, more direct.
"Go," Nancy encouraged her. It sounded like a command. She tugged at Robin's hair again.
"Hold your horses, Nance. I'm going," Robin said, and she went.
She nuzzled down Nancy's stomach, pressing those agonizing kisses along the way, her hands now on Nancy's hips, holding her down and leaving her with nothing at all to rub against, no recourse whatsoever when Robin's kisses veered off to her inner thighs, first the left then the right. She heard herself whining, felt Robin moaning fuck, Nancy into the crease of her thigh before she finally felt Robin's mouth where she needed it.
"Thank you," Nancy groaned at the feeling of Robin's tongue dipping in to her, spreading her open. She felt Robin pause when she spoke and- "Don't say you're welcome again, please, just keep doing what you're doing I swear to god."
Robin was being so infuriatingly methodical, her tongue and her lips taking lazy turns with Nancy's clit, steady and deliberate and so fucking good that she lost track of her impatience entirely, lost track of how long she spent rocking on that delicious edge.
Nancy couldn't remember her mind ever being so empty. She hadn't ever thought she was even capable of not thinking. She looked down at Robin, her fingers pressing bruising little indents on her hip bones and her hair an unruly nest from Nancy's incessant grabbing and pulling, her face a dripping mess, her blue eyes and freckles stark against the gold of her skin in that strip of sun. It was the most beautiful thing Nancy had ever seen. She wanted a picture of it, an oil painting. She'd tear Tom Cruise off her bedroom wall once and for all and if anybody raised an eyebrow she'd just tell them they obviously didn't understand art.
Something changed in that eye contact, like maybe Robin liked what she saw too, and like maybe she wanted to see more of it. Her strokes got firmer, rougher even, and her pace picked up until it resolved out of that bassline of almost into a tight rhythm that had Nancy's breath quickening even though she wasn't doing anything besides lying there and taking it.
Her hips were fighting against Robin's grip and she was probably pulling Robin's hair too hard just trying to get her even closer, trying to bridge whatever infinitesimal space there might still be between them. She tightened her grip in Robin's hair again, and Robin moaned around her clit, her tongue hitting just right, and finally Nancy broke. She arched hard into it, using Robin's face despite the hands holding her still, riding it out against the flat of Robin's tongue until it was mostly over, when there were only aftershocks wracking through her when Robin so much as breathed against her.
Minutes might have gone by, or hours, in that afterglow stupor, with Robin's hands tracing lazy shapes on her skin and her panting breath evening out. It could have been any amount of time until she registered again the ticking of the clock on the wall and remembered where they were. Where she was.
"Come here," She said, not pulling Robin's hair anymore, just combing through it mindlessly, just tapping weakly at Robin's shoulder with arms that felt as wobbly as her legs. Robin looked up at her, eyes blissed out and sleepy. She wiped her face with her hand and then wiped her hand unselfconsciously on Nancy's stomach as she climbed back up. It was cool now in the breeze, and Nancy fought back shivers until Robin's warm body was on top of her again, her elbows bracketing Nancy's face.
"Hey," Robin said. The worry was unmistakable in her eyes, the uncertainty, so Nancy used whatever last reservoir of energy she had remaining to lean up, kissing the taste of herself off Robin's lips and liking it, trying to express whatever was the opposite of regret.
"Do you need me to-?" Nancy asked.
"No, I think... I think you've had enough for one day, Nance," Robin said with that stupid smirk on that mouth that Nancy would never be able to look at the same way again. "I'm good. Like, extremely, very good. I promise you."
"Good," Nancy yawned. "Because I really don't want to move at all right now, no offense."
"What else is new," Robin teased. "Jesus, Wheeler. I've never seen you so lazy before."
"Hey," Nancy defended herself. It was true but that wasn't the point. "I'll fuck you if you want me to. I will. I want to. I'm just, you know." She let her head fall back onto the couch cushion and sighed.
"Fucked," Robin nodded.
"Fucked," Nancy agreed.
"Your hair is a total mess by the way," Robin said, putting her hands in it. Either trying to fix it or trying to make it worse, it was inconclusive.
"So is yours," Nancy countered. She would take full responsibility for that fact. She would take pride in it, even.
"And I think you might have ruined your Nana's couch," Robin nodded, and then she fell apart laughing when Nancy hid her face in her hands in mortification. "No," Robin laughed, trying to pull Nancy's hands away, trying to kiss her face. "It's fine. I'm sure it's totally fine. Just say everything was normal when you checked and then when your grandparents get home they'll probably just assume some roving gang of lesbians broke in to smoke weed and bang on their couch and also to break that lamp at the top of the stairs, which, by the way, actually I broke a lamp earlier. Sorry about that."
"It's a weird place for a lamp," Nancy mumbled, still basking in that sleepy satisfaction. She had to wake up. They had to go soon.
Robin looked up at the clock on the wall and Nancy looked at Robin. The slice of light from the window had passed them by entirely by now. The house was getting dim. "We should probably get going soon, huh?" Robin asked. "If we want to get home at a decent hour."
"My legs do not want to drive right now," Nancy complained. "But yeah. My mom will start freaking out if I'm out too late. Ever since we told her everything, she's... You know." She drummed her finger tips softly against Robin's ribs. "Okay. Let's get dressed."
Robin rolled off of her gracelessly but managed at least not to fall on the floor this time. "You wanna go get cleaned up and I'll shut the windows and stuff?" Robin asked.
It was surreal looking at her like that, tall and pretty and standing stark naked in the middle of Nancy's grandparent's living room. It made her want to laugh, but instead she picked up her clothes and headed to the bathroom to try to put herself together. She looked at her face in the mirror. She looked like she had been kissing. She looked like she had been fucking. She wouldn't be home for a while, yet. It might sort itself out by then, but if worse came to worst she could probably sell it as the aftermath of crying, which was unfortunately very believable. Her hair really was a mess, half falling out of the ponytail she'd tied it into. She pulled the tie out and put it back around her wrist and tousled her hair back into some some semblance of respectability. It would have to do.
By the time Nancy got out of the bathroom, the house was quiet, the windows all shut, blocking out the birdsong and the neighborhood noise outside. Robin was straightening out the couch.
"So I flipped the cushions over, I don't know if that's actually a good idea but honestly I'm not sure what you're supposed to do in this situation? Like, what's the least gross option?" Robin shrugged. "But I flipped the cushions and I found, like, a dollar fifty in quarters under there. We should stop at McDonald's on the way home."
Nancy stepped up to her and leaned up to kiss her before grabbing her purse and heading for the door to get her shoes on.
"What was that for?" Robin asked behind her.
Nancy looked down at the keys in her hand and smiled. "I just wanted to," she shrugged. She looked over her shoulder and Robin was smiling, and maybe Nancy wanted an oil painting of that too.
She slipped her shoes on and unlocked the door and waited. It only took a second.
"Whoa," Nancy heard Robin say behind her. She sighed, and tried to ignore the ticking of the clock on the wall. "This is such an old people house."
"Well yeah," Nancy agreed. She locked the door and tried to sell the smile on her face before she turned around. "Obviously."