#14 for steve and robin, if you're accepting for them?
14. "We're stronger together."
i want you to know i wrote this while listening to the s3 mall music, it was a vibe
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Robin and Steve get to the radio station first.
It isn’t surprising. The Wheelers and the Byers were still a mess of tears and hugs and congratulations when they left the football field two hours ago. While she and Steve had time to freshen up and grab dinner at the diner for old times’ sake, Robin wouldn’t be surprised if Mike was still in his graduation gown, shifting his feet impatiently and talking about how he needs to get home to prep for their D&D session.
They haul their cooler of beers—and a fifth of Nancy’s favorite vodka—up to the roof and set up folding chairs, and then they promptly ignore those chairs and instead lay down, side by side, staring up at the sky.
It’s a gorgeous day, all bright blue sky and fluffy clouds stretching on forever. It’s the kind of day Robin hasn’t seen since before spring break her senior year. Hawkins was always so dreary once the rifts open, the air cold and heavy even on the days the sun shined weakly down on them. Even after they saved the world—during all those months when they just tried to piece their lives together again enough to figure out what on earth a future was supposed to look like—the gloom of the Upside Down lingered, like stale air filling a room even long after you cracked the window.
Still, they caught some nice sunsets up on this roof. Her and Steve. Her and Nancy. They’ll probably see one tonight, too. Robin hopes so, at least. It’s what they all deserve.
“—and you said it yourself, not even an hour ago—that diner is the only place you can get jalapeño mozzarella sticks, and you miss them like crazy.”
Robin snorts. “I’m not moving back to Hawkins for their mozzarella sticks, Steve.”
“You’re not even a little tempted? They’re really fucking good, you know.”
She does know. That’s the entire reason she asked Steve if they could get dinner at the diner.
“Seafood’s better in Northampton.”
“You’re not even that close to the coast.”
“Hell of a lot closer than Hawkins.” She reaches out, blindly, and brushes her knuckles against his shoulder. “What else you got for me?”
Steve huffs, then shakes his head and jumps into his next reason why Robin should move back to Hawkins.
It’s a pitch she’s heard a few times now, mostly on nights when he’s bored, or when he just got back from a really successful date and insists that Robin come back to be there as he falls in love with his future wife.
She’s not sure if Jonathan and Nancy have heard it yet, but she knows they’ll get the whole spiel when they arrive, tailored a bit more to their interests, which probably don’t have anything to do with jalapeño mozzarella sticks.
And they’ll let him talk and talk, and then they’ll laugh and tell him hell no, not in a million years will they ever come back. And Steve will feign offense while grinning at them all.
She misses this. She misses him. She listens to him rambling about some jazz band that plays at Enzo’s on Thursday nights, and she misses everything.
“I just think you should consider it, Rob,” he says, his hands waving through the air above his chest. “I mean, you and I—we’re stronger together, you know?”
He’s smiling. The spiel has never been serious—he doesn’t want that for her, not really, no matter how teary-eyed they can both get on their phone calls. But he still sounds so puppy dog earnest, so emphatically Steve, that she’s suddenly extremely close to tears.
They are stronger together. They always have been. Brains and brawn, Dustin called them for three months straight after that first Fourth of July. Like chocolate and peanut butter, Erica had said in agreement, or maybe just because that was the flavor of ice cream she was demanding that week.
Two peas in a pod. Robin and Steve. Steve and Robin. Tied together since their wrists were bound on cold metal chairs a million miles underground. This beautiful idiot who has only ever seen the best parts of her, who she has watched pour himself out for everyone around him, offering up his time and his energy, his home, his sleep, his safety, his own life, over and over and over again.
Stronger together. Her broadcasts and his sound effects. Her movie recommendations and his customer service. Her quick thinking and his steady strength. Her relentless fear and his unshakable shame. All the late nights when it was just the two of them, and that’s all they needed to make it through.
They’re stronger together. Because if she had stepped onto campus last fall without him right there, one of her bags slung over his shoulder, she’s not sure she would’ve stayed.
But she did. And though she had to wipe away tears as she watched him drive back west, he’s stayed with her through letters and phone calls and the way he coaxed her into getting on a plane so they could see each other even on her shortest breaks.
Stronger together, because no matter where they go, they’ll never actually be apart.
Steve has fallen quiet beside her, letting her be in her thoughts for a moment. She rolls her head to look at him again, offering a sheepish smile of apology.
“You’re considering it, aren’t you?” he asks, voice extremely serious.
Robin laughs and swats at his shoulder. “Keep dreaming, dingus.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Hawkins just can’t compete with your man-hating book clubs at Smith.”
“I’m sorry, Stevie. We just have really good discussions. Plus, Lynn makes these insane brownies—they even beat out the jalapeño mozzarella sticks. It’s just all too good to let go of.”
Steve rests his head in the crook of his elbow and smiles at her. “I’m really happy for you, you know that?”
“You’ve said it a time or two.”
“I know. And I mean it.”
She smiles back. “Me too, dingus.”
Stronger together.
“So.” Steve rolls onto his back again, but she can still hear the way his smile turns into a smirk. “Have you actually made a move on one of these amazing book club friends yet, or are you still too busy being a chicken?”
“I don’t think you comprehend the complexities of the Smith lesbian dating scene,” she says, turning away herself so he doesn’t see her cheeks heat up.
The truth is, she couldn’t care less about the Smith lesbian dating scene—though it’s pretty complicated, to be fair; she has enough friends who have dated each other, or gotten back together, or shared exes, that she’s starting to think she needs to remake her and Nancy’s old conspiracy board just to keep up with it.
But she’s not invested personally, because ever since winter break, she and Nancy have been talking pretty much non-stop. Letters bleeding into phone calls, phone calls leading to weekend trips. To halfway points at first, and then Nancy to Northampton, and Robin to Boston, and both of them to wherever they felt like going when they had a day or two to spare. Eventually, their endless conversations ending led to Nancy’s voice, soft and sweet, coming down the line and saying, “Steve doesn’t have to drive all the way out here in May. If you want, you can ride home with me.”
Robin said yes without hesitation. It made sense, logistically speaking. But it was also dangerous, she knew it was dangerous, even before they rolled up to a motel and stayed up late talking—still, even after eight hours on the road together.
Dangerous, because that conversation led to Nancy crossing the space between their beds, taking Robin’s face in her hands, and kissing her breathless.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Steve turn to face her again.
“You’re blushing.”
“Am not,” she says, throwing her arm over her eyes like that’s going to make her any more believable. Steve snorts.
“Well you gotta tell me now. Who is it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s Lynn and her brownies, isn’t it?”
“What? No. I mean, I love Lynn, but she’s not really my type and even if she was, she’s head over heels for Colleen and they’re both staying in Massachusetts for the summer so something is definitely going to happen there, and—”
“Robin.”
“Huh?” She lifts her arm and looks at him—at his patient smile, his quirked eyebrow.
She has to cave eventually. She was always going to, anyway.
She closes her eyes and turns away again.
“I hooked up with Nancy.”
It feels wrong to tell him, to out Nancy, even though when they’d rolled into town Steve had taken one look at her new look and turned to Robin, eyebrows disappearing into his hair.
It feels even more wrong to call it a hookup. The second Nancy’s hands were on her in that motel room, it felt like so much more than that. And from the tears Nancy had hid into Robin’s bare chest, she thinks the feeling might be mutual.
Robin is scared. She hasn’t let herself really feel it since that night, since shaking in Nancy’s arms and kissing her gently, since her whispered “Sweet dreams, Nance,” and Nancy’s warm, “Good morning, Robs,” that came when the sun rose. It had been amazingly easy to sit in the car with her the next day, to talk and laugh and even flirt with her, just a little, enough that Nancy shot her adorable little scowls because they were in rush hour in Cleveland and she had to focus on driving instead of flirting back.
Nancy makes her feel pretty damn strong, too. But whatever comes next for the two of them—and she thinks it will be good, great, wonderful, even, but whatever it becomes, wherever it takes them—she needs Steve.
She needs him to be okay with this. With her. With them. She needs this to not change things. She loves him so much and she needs him.
“Robin,” Steve says after a long, aching moment. “Look at me.”
She takes a deep breath, working up the courage to open her eyes again. When she does, he’s just laying there, holding his hand up, waiting for a high five.
She barks out a laugh and swats his hand away. Steve grins and rolls over so he can wrap her up in his arms.
“I’m really happy for you,” he says again, and it sounds just as warm, just as sappy, just as beautifully Steve as it did the first time. “For both of you.”
Robin presses her face to his shoulder. “Thanks, Steve.”
“Jonathan’s going to lose his mind.”
She pinches his side, but he just grabs her hand and stills her, refusing to actually pull away.
“You’re sworn to secrecy,” she says.
“As if Nancy isn’t going to tell him first anyway.”
Robin smiles into his shirt. She definitely will. They’re stronger together, too.
Maybe all of them are.
“I love you, dingus,” she says.
Steve laughs around her, so, so warm. “Damn, and we haven’t even poured the drinks yet.” Then he squeezes her tighter, his head ducking to rest beside hers, the two of them pressed together like they’ll never be apart. “I love you, too.”
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Happy Wednesday ✨ Here's a sneak peek of my piece for the upcoming Sapphic Things zine!
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If you want more sneak peeks from all the other art contributors, see the writers' lineups, and to stay informed about the zine updates, check out "@_sapphicthings" on X
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