Work Text:
Deep breaths, Richie, you got this. Today is the day.
It’d taken almost the whole semester for Richie to even get up the courage to approach their table, which was hidden in the back corner at the top floor of the library. He’d spent hours in his dorm room practicing and re-practicing what he wanted to say, trying to make sure he didn’t look like a complete fool.
On the first day of the Fall semester, Richie walked into the library to kill some time- maybe go bother his unsuspecting friend Ben who was working the desk- only to stop abruptly when he noticed the pair sitting at the far table. The prettiest guy he’d ever seen ever was laughing probably at some dumb joke and making gestures at, of all people, Bill Denbrough. (That guy had been Richie's lab partner last semester and they’d barely spoken a word to each other (read: Richie talked his ear off while the guy just nodded along, never saying anything)).
Upon closer inspection (aka: Richie found a seat a few tables away and watched them like a hawk) the two weren’t just making random hand gestures to each other; they were using sign language. He’d watched in awe that first day (and every day after), not understanding a single conversation but finding himself interested in the language anyway. It looked so fun from the outside with the wild facial expressions and variations of how quickly or slowly they might sign something. Why hadn’t he looked into ASL before? Well, he had, but trying to learn a language without a teacher is basically impossible when you have ADHD.
Either way, after two months of spending most of his free time in the library (like a total nerd), Richie had finally buckled down in front of his computer and started looking up signs, trying to craft the most romantic (and least creepy) message possible. He knew, from his research, he wasn’t actually using ASL, and that Pidgin Signed English was usually seen as annoying or lazy, but honestly this was already a lot for the guy who barely got through his language credits with a D, so he tried not to stress too much.
He was anxious, really. His signs were still choppy, and he had to think really hard to remember them all and what order to put them in, but finals were creeping up and he didn’t want to miss his chance. So, there he was, standing in front of Denbrough and the guy (who Ben had helpfully told him was named Eddie), shaking like a damn leaf.
Richie pointed at Eddie, then made a petting gesture on his chin. He again pointed to Eddie and made d shapes with both of his hands, bumping them together gently, then pointed at himself.
You’re cute. Will you go on a date with me?
It wasn’t even a complex message, and yet immediately there was a fire burning in Eddie’s eyes. Bill reached out to grab his arm, but it was in vain as Eddie stood and began gesturing- no, signing- wildly, his face getting more and more red as he continued. Richie snuck a glance over at Bill, to see that he wasn’t even looking anymore. Dude had his head buried in his arms and was laughing hard as hell. A punch in the arm from Eddie brought Richie’s attention back, and he couldn’t help but smile at the amount of emotion he’d received, even if it was bad.
This was obviously not the reaction Eddie wanted, but thankfully Bill stood up and put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back gently. “Th-th-th-that was fuh-fucking rude .”
Richie paused at that, grimacing. He looked between the two of them, Eddie now seated but still fuming, “Shit, really?”
Denbrough nodded, he spoke slowly, signing along even though Eddie was obviously trying to pretend to not see the conversation, “Y-yeah. Cute? M-m-means like a baby or a d-d-d-dog.” He glanced back at Eddie, “D-definitely not the s-same as a-a-attractive.” The word attractive was accompanied by Bill moving his hand in front of his own face, closing his fist in almost a circular motion (this, Richie recognized, was the sign for beautiful, which he definitely had not looked up when drafting his proposal).
Richie looked between the two of them, before looking at Eddie and just said, “I'm sorry.” He looked back to Denbrough, then mimicked the gesture he made, a fist rubbed in a circle on his chest, an apologetic expression on his face.
Eddie huffed, crossing his arms and pointedly looking anywhere but Richie.
Richie frowned, going to turn away but Bill reached out and grabbed his sleeve with a “Wait!”, so Richie stepped closer, noticing again that he signed as he spoke. “R-rude, b-b-b-but he means y-yes.”
Richie looked back over to Eddie and grinned, noticing his ears were now tipped red as well. In response, Eddie flipped off Bill before walking off. He gave no explanation, leaving his open textbooks all over the table.
Bill shrugged in Richie’s direction, “I-I-I-I think you can juh-just write a note.” Noticing Richie’s confusion he very slowly repeated the sign for ‘date’ to him.
Richie’s eyes lit up immediately. He pulled a loose paper from his bag and quickly wrote his name, number, and Sunday, 12pm, Starbucks . He placed it gently on top of Eddie’s books and gave a quick wave to Bill before practically bounding away.
Richie spent the next few days vibrating with excitement any time his upcoming date crossed his mind. His classes couldn’t have passed more slowly. On top of that, the lectures went in one ear and out the other. He was too busy daydreaming about sweeping that little gremlin off his feet to pay any attention.
His excitement peaked Sunday morning when he received a text that just said ‘which starbucks?’ The noise he made when he opened it was unholy - at least, that was what his roommate Stan had said, before throwing a pillow at his face and rolling over. He’d tried to be excited more quietly after that, but he couldn’t help how he was bouncing around as he got ready. One shoe, bounce in a circle. Other shoe, bounce in a circle. He left the dorm with little more than a wave to Stan, too busy triple checking he had the notebook tucked into one pocket and his wallet in the other.
Richie showed up to the chosen cafe at a remarkably perfect time of 11:59, only to see Eddie was already seated in the corner with a coffee. He deflated a little since he’d been planning to pay, but went up to get his own drink anyway. He was surprised, however, when he went to pull out his wallet and the cashier shook her head. “The cutie in the corner covered you,” she explained
He whipped his head around to see Eddie pointedly not looking at him, but even from that distance he could see the blush on his cheeks. Grinning, he turned back to the cashier and thanked her, putting $5 in the tip jar before waiting at the other end of the counter.
Coffee in hand, Richie finally made his way over to his date, taking a seat beside him with a small wave. Eddie signed, slowly, but Richie had no clue what he was saying. He put his hands up in a sort of universal ‘wait’ gesture and pulled out a little (sparkly, pink) notebook and a pen. He grinned at Eddie, whose blush darkened as he glared and looked away.
Richie’s handwriting was beyond messy, but he did his best to make it clear.
I am going to learn, but I need a teacher first.
Richie had definitely thought Eddie’s blush couldn’t get any deeper before, but somehow it had.
Dick.
Richie grinned, then, settling into a rhythm as they passed notes back and forth. As much as it may have seemed like it, Richie really didn’t have a death wish. He figured it had to do with growing up using ASL or something. Either way, Eddie’s blunt honesty and sarcasm translated well enough for Richie to know the two of them were definitely well matched in the shit-talking department, and who was he if not the resident trashmouth?
They’d sat in the Starbucks for over an hour, passing notes like little kids, before Eddie finally admitted that he had to go with an annoyed huff.
We’ll do this again sometime, yeah?
Eddie huffed again, crossing his arms and doing his best to look grumpy, but his flushed face gave him away. He nodded, reaching over without looking to take Richie’s hand and gave it a squeeze before he got up and left, waving to the barista and glancing back at Richie, who was now internally a pile of mush and definitely not blushing dark enough to rival Eddie.
Richie sighed happily, gathering his things up and pulling out his phone to shoot Bill a text: ‘hey dude it’s richie. sorry i kept your number after we stopped being lab partners but can you help me learn ASL??? it’s way too late to get into a class and i think if i wait until next semester i might explode.’
He got a response way quicker than expected. ‘k. Library. Usual time.’ Richie smiled, walking over to the library from the cafe to find Bill there studying something else. He still had another hour or so before the designated usual time so he sat across from Bill, nodding to him in greeting, and flipped through the notebook fondly.
Bill cleared the table after a while, signalling Richie to put away the notebook and his phone which he’d ended up scrolling through for a while.
Oddly enough, the ASL lesson with Bill was easier than expected. Neither of them spoke aloud again after Richie had started to ask a question and Bill promptly covered his own mouth with a shake of his head, before making a locking movement over his throat (which Richie learned meant Voice Off). And yet he almost fully understood what was going on. Bill helped him practice his alphabet as well as the question words, starting at a really basic level.
The two did that every day from then on. When Eddie left the library to go to work, Richie would come in and study with Bill for an hour or two, and while he was obviously nowhere near understanding everything he’d begun to feel a lot more confident in what he did know. He could ask where the bathroom was, or how to sign a certain object or topic, and he’d learned greetings and some cute nicknames for Eddie.
Bill had also taught Richie his and Eddie’s name signs (a B, run across the opposite palm as if writing for Bill, and an E in circles in front of the mouth (which Richie now knew was the sign for angry )) as well as the sign the two had been using for him. It was the sign for Hearing, but with an R instead of a 1 - to show how you can’t shut up , Bill had grinned. By the time finals week actually hit, Richie could hold a simple conversation.
And the whole time Eddie had no idea this was happening.
When Richie and Eddie met up again for coffee-the day before Finals Week officially began-Richie started off the way he always did, pulling out the notebook and making a silly doodle to give to Eddie. Today it was (supposedly) a cat with little hearts around it.
Eddie had tucked the paper neatly in his jeans pocket, before looking up to see Richie grinning at him widely. This wasn’t unusual except for the fact that today he looked nervous.
What’s up?
Richie’s grin softened, and he began signing slowly.
Same old, same old. How are you?
Eddie froze for a moment before he began to sign back. Richie had to ask him several times to slow down and start again, but it was because Eddie was so happy he couldn’t contain himself, so he didn’t mind.
Their conversation was pretty surface level, but Richie quickly noticed Eddie was actually crying and moved so he could pull him into a hug. Eddie sniffed, tapping Richie’s arm to get his attention before smiling and making the well known ‘ily’ sign. Richie grinned, freeing a hand to respond in kind before giving Eddie a gentle kiss on the head.
When Eddie finally stood to leave for work, Richie stood too, pulling him into a hug and leaning down to kiss his cheek. When he pulled back Eddie’s whole face was scarlet, and he flipped Richie off before making the ‘ily’ again and hurrying away. Richie stood there, grinning like an idiot, for longer than he was willing to admit. He knew (thanks to Bill) that Deaf people said ‘I love you’ to their friends. It wasn’t very serious, especially how Eddie expressed it, and yet he still couldn’t help but feel mushy and lovestruck.
The break after finals was like pure torture, with Richie stuck in the Midwest and Eddie all the way in New York City. Finding groups to hang out with to practice his signing in the Midwest was basically impossible if he didn’t make the trip up to Chicago, so Richie spent most of the break researching Deaf culture. He found some forums and even had a video chat or two with some other people trying to learn the language (and damn had that been awkward the first time).
Soon enough, the holidays had passed and they were back at school. Richie was moving back into the dorms (and annoying Stan, as always) and Eddie was moving into an apartment. Apparently he’d gotten one with Bill and (to Richie’s surprise) Ben, who also knew ASL because one of his cousins, and now also his girlfriend, were Deaf.
Either way, Richie had a place to go and people to practice with, since the whole Apartment Crew was fluent. Now, on top of studying with Bill, he could go bother Ben at the library’s front desk for help too. It was like this that he really had hands-on practice (and also from his newly started ASL 102 class - by some miracle, he’d tested out of level 1).
Truly, Richie wasn’t just falling for Eddie. He was falling in love with a whole language and culture.
The first Sunday of the semester they met up-as usual-at Starbucks. Richie sat in the corner, both of their drinks waiting in front of him. He watched Eddie bustle in, red tipped nose peeking out over his scarf, and couldn’t help but grin. And when Eddie turned to look at him, he could feel his cheeks starting to hurt as he saw the grin mirrored right back at him. Eddie shuffled over, taking off a few layers before sitting across from Richie as usual. It was easier to see what someone was signing straight on than from an angle, after all.
Richie’s grin morphed into a more bashful smile as he signed ‘I love you’. as they usually did as a greeting. Eddie tilted his head, indicating confusion at Richie’s expression, and that just made him blush and smile wider.
I want to tell you something.
Eddie cocked his head again. Okay. What?
Richie took a deep breath and found that he was shaking a little.
Thank you. For putting up with me, and also for introducing me to… all this. I found a family I didn’t know I needed, and a culture much more welcoming than my own.
He paused briefly and picked his movements carefully.
I fell in love with you.
He indicates this with just his pointer finger up, touching the back of it to his nose before tipping it forward in a falling motion and having it skid and bounce across his other palm as if he’d hit the ground.
Eddie’s eyes welled up with tears. He stood, stepping around the table before punching Richie in the arm, hard .
Ow, Eds, what the hell?! He earned himself another punch for the fingerspelled nickname but he was laughing too hard at how, true to character, Eddie responded with violence first, to notice the second punch.
And then Eddie took his chin in his hand, and Richie stopped laughing immediately, meeting his eyes with a hopeful expression.
I fell in love with you too, but you’re still an asshole.
Richie grinned, finally leaning up to meet Eddie’s smiling lips with his own.