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English
Series:
Part 8 of A thousand ways to meet
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Published:
2013-08-17
Completed:
2014-03-29
Words:
2,899
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2/2
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Kindness is the language

Summary:

Leonard was infatuated with Jim and he damn well knew it. He made sure he was there before Jim, and he felt nervous as he waited, wondering if he was going to show up today. Whenever he was in the room he couldn’t look away from him, and then when he left, he watched him right up until he couldn’t see him anymore, and then he would frown at the table top, wishing he would come back.

Notes:

Based on the prompt from the lovely Lucy: Bones is deaf and shy and Jim learns sign language to woo him.

The title is from the quote: "Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see." from Mark Twain.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Leonard had been deaf his whole life. Not that he cared, really. How could he miss the noise if all he’d ever known was silence? So maybe when he was younger he was angry that he couldn’t hear his mother’s voice, or his family as they sang him happy birthday or later, much later, the soft moans that Jocelyn would breath into his skin. He could feel her breath hot against his face, but that was all it was. And for a while, it had made him angry.

But eventually he’d given up caring. There was no use fighting it. There was nothing anyone could do for him, so he decided not to care.

He was sat in the Enterprise again, at the table in the corner, the one that Chekov never even bothered to set up unless he knew Leo was coming in for a coffee. Leonard was the type of person to latch onto a place once he found it agreeable, and he really did find the Enterprise to be agreeable. Especially since when he’d first walked in and read Nyota’s lips, she’d picked up on it almost immediately and began speaking in sign language, which Leonard was eternally grateful for.

It got even better when she taught Chekov the basics so he could talk to him too, without Leonard having to watch his lips with a close concentration and pause for twenty seconds before he could respond.

And it was even better still because they both just left him to sit in the corner, by himself, for as long as he needed.

He was reading a new book, a collection of medical journals that his mom had found in the attic whilst she was cleaning out. They were published by his father, a Otolaryngologist who worked for fifteen years trying to cure Leonard’s disability, right up until the day he died. Leonard had told him countless times that it didn’t matter, that his dad should move on to better projects, but David McCoy was about as stubborn as his son.

The door to the café dinged - the only clue Leonard got that someone was entering was the blast of cold air that hit his face, as the new customer allowed a little bit of the blizzard that raged outside to follow him in. Leo cast his eyes upward, watching as that same tall-ish guy in a dark coat and beanie walk up to the counter. Leonard hadn’t seen the beanie before; it was a good look.

Jim came in every day around this time, and Leonard assumed that he either came in for a coffee on his way to work or during his break or something, but he could never be sure because he never stayed for the same length of time.

Leonard was infatuated with Jim and he damn well knew it. He made sure he was there before Jim, and he felt nervous as he waited, wondering if he was going to show up today. Whenever he was in the room he couldn’t look away from him, and then when he left, he watched him right up until he couldn’t see him anymore, and then he would frown at the table top, wishing he would come back.

He would do something about it, but he was way too shy. He didn’t know if Jim knew sign language, and he would go up and talk to him, but he’d never heard his own voice, so he tried not to use it if he could. It was the first time he had allowed his disability to hold him back.

Leo watched as Nyota pursed her lips, but it was obvious that she was only pretending to be annoyed, seeing as the corners of her lips were twitching upward. She was fighting back a smile. Leonard watched as she said, “You again.”

Jim gave a nod, said something that Leo couldn’t see.

Nyota chuckled. “What’re you having, Jim?”

Jim’s face was turned away from him enough that he couldn’t see his lips. He didn’t know what he responded, but Nyota turned away, grabbing a cup and scribbling his name on it before getting his order for him.

Jim seemed to wait patiently, although he shifted his weight from one foot to the other a lot. Leo had noticed just how much he squirmed, how he’d change positions ten times in his seat, never settling. He looked around the room, bright blue eyes flicking from the book shelves with the Russian Doll bookends to the wall that Nyota had hand painted in various patterns and colours, and then over to Leonard, a small smile curving his lips upwards as he caught his gaze.

Leonard dropped his gaze so quickly it made him dizzy. He pretended to read the journal as his cheeks burned.

He carefully, slowly, looked back up, but found Jim facing the counter again, talking to Nyota. He was turned far enough away that his lips were hidden, but he could see Nyota smirking a little. Her eyes flicked to Leonard, who looked away quickly. When he looked back, he tried his best to catch up with their conversation.

“- likes to be on his own. He’s not one for conversation.”

Jim said something else, and Nyota’s smile quickly faded. She looked over to Leonard again, knowing that he was watching. When Leonard didn’t look away this time, she pressed her lips into a thin line.

She leaned down, setting her elbows on the counter and moving back far enough that she was hidden behind the coffee machine. Damn her.

Maybe he’d be able to get it out of her later.

His eyes fell on Jim now, watching as his small smirk fade just slightly. He looked over to Leonard again, his face a strange mixture of determination and defiance and what Leo thought might be sorrow. Not that he had much time to analyse it; he suddenly became very interested in the rim of his coffee cup.

He was still running a finger round it when he felt cold air hit his face again. He looked up, startled to find that Jim had left.

And Leonard hadn’t even been able to watch him go.

~*~

Jim didn’t come into the café the next day. Leonard spent the best part of three hours waiting for him. Chekov came over to sit with him during his breaking, asking him if something was wrong, signing the words with his hands. He was getting good, too. Nyota had only really taught him the basics about a month ago, but already Chekov had learned almost as much as Leonard had. The kid was a genius.

“I’m fine.” Leonard had responded with a smile that was supposed to be reassuring.

Chekov left looking unconvinced. He told him to just wave if he needed anything, and Leonard nodded. They both knew he wouldn’t, but that didn’t matter.

He didn’t come in the day after, either. For a rare change, it was Carol the manager who was in running the place. She saw how upset Leonard looked and gave him free pastries for the whole four hours he sat there. Leonard asked if she were trying to fatten him up, and she just kissed the top of his head before returning to the counter.

By the tenth day, Leonard had all but given up. He sat down low in his seat, an empty mug of coffee and a neglected paper back in front of him. He shuffled in his seat, deciding he might as well go because apparently Jim wasn’t coming back, when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

He looked up to see Jim standing over him, snowflakes melting into his hair, his cheeks and nose flushed a little from the cold. He gave Leonard a friendly smile, before signing “Mind if I sit down?”

Leonard almost hugged him. Firstly for coming back, and secondly for learning sign language. Because Leonard knew that he didn’t know it - Nyota had told him when Leonard had blushed five shades darker than his usual skin tone and asked if she knew anything about Jim. He nodded, kicking the chair out a little with his foot, trying to contain the grin that threatened to present itself.

Jim took a seat and set his coffee down on the table. Leonard moved his things closer to him, allowing him more room.

“I’m Jim,” He signed, after taking a sip from the cup.

“I know.” Leonard replied, allowing him a small smile. “I’m Leonard.”

“I know.” Jim returned.

The grinned at each other, and Jim gave a small laugh. Leonard looked down at the table, biting his bottom lip a little.

He looked up at Jim, pausing before raising his hands to say, “I didn’t know you knew sign language.”

“I didn’t.” Jim answered, after what felt like an age of deliberating whether or not to tell him. “I just finished learning. Nyota helped some, but I pretty much taught myself.”

“You taught yourself sign language? In ten days?” Leonard raised his eyebrows.

Jim smirked a little. “How did you know it was ten days?”

Leo’s cheeks flushed a beetroot red. He dropped his gaze to the table. He was still staring at the wood when he felt a hand on his, fingertips gently brushing the back of his hand. He looked up, and Jim was looking at him intently. He opened his mouth as if to speak, before he corrected himself. He gave Leonard’s hands a squeeze and signed, “I wanted to talk to you, so I learned.”

“I can read lips.” Leonard shrugged. He didn’t mention how much harder it was than signing, though. Nor did he mention how glad he was that Jim had learned to sign. Or how ecstatic he was that Jim actually wanted to talk to him.

Jim paused, as if not knowing what to say to that. He gave a soft smile. “I like this way better.”

Leonard wanted to tell him how much he liked this way too. But he was very conscious of how red his cheeks were, and that was what was holding him back.

He looked up at Jim, and they held each other’s gaze for a long time. It didn’t feel weird, either, or strange, or too fast. Leonard had spent a lot of time looking at Jim’s eyes across a crowded café. It was nice to finally see them up close.

“Would you like to go for drinks tonight?” Jim signed, after a little while.

Leonard blinked once, twice, and then a third time. He hadn’t been expecting that. He hadn’t been expecting Jim to ask him out, as much as he wanted him too. And damn did he want him to.

He gave a small smile, and reached his hand across the table, lacing his fingers with Jim. “Yes.” He said, voice as clear as he could possibly make it.

It was worth it to see the smile on Jim’s face.