For Regan, 12/29

[the_trashmouth]

They'd planned this for weeks. Talked about it, he'd saved his money, and gotten someone older to rent a room at Kagura. He'd told the people at the Home he was staying with a friend for a night, so nobody was going to freak the fuck out. It was supposed to be fucking great, for a lot of reasons.

Instead, it was just weird. And not as cool as Richie thought it'd be.

He's pulling his shoes on in the too quiet room, and for the first time in a long time, he doesn't have a joke to cut through it.

Fuck.

"Do you, uh," Richie finally says out loud as he signs, "Wanna go get some hot chocolate downstairs?"

Comments

[negative_feedback]

Regan's not sure how she feels about the whole thing. She'd talked to Greta about it beforehand — she'd wanted to talk to someone, and the internet had said things both useless and alarming. Greta'd broken things down a bit more frankly for her. So it's not like she thought it was going to be this, like, fireworks-and-rainbows sort of event.

But she'd thought it'd be, at least, a little close to it.

She's just finishing pulling her shirt down to her hips when she sees Richie's hands move from the corner of her eye. He's already fully dressed, shoes and all, and if it weren't for the invitation, Regan might think he was trying to escape. Still, the invite is welcome relief from the oppressive awkwardness left behind, and she nods.

"Let me get my shoes on," she adds.

[the_trashmouth]

"Okay," Richie says, and nods, but he's still looking at his shoes even as he signs. There was a moment, before Regan nodded when he was sure she was going to say no. Because he sucks at this, apparently, and why the shit would she want to stay his girlfriend now?

[negative_feedback]

She watches him for a moment, then bends over her knees so she can grab her sneakers. She glances at him, more than once, as she pulls them on. He looks so dejected. He's not even joking, not doing a Voice — she can tell, because Richie doesn't have Depressed Guy, and if he does, then he's new.

God, it wasn't actually that bad was it? Bad enough to give him a whole new Voice?

She bites her lip as she finishes tying her shoes, then reaches over to touch his elbow.

"We can try again," she says. "It'll be better."

[the_trashmouth]

Richie frowns, looking over at Regan. She's being nice, and he doesn't know if that's worse than her telling the truth.

"If you're going to break up with me, could you just do it now?" he says, "It's shitty to just wait and do it in public."

[negative_feedback]

That has her flinching back, and she looks at him with a sharp furrow to her brows.

"What?" she asks. "Why would I break up with you?"

[the_trashmouth]

"I'm pretty sure you saw what just fucking happened," Richie signs, his hands a little more shaky than he'd like, even though his voice isn't, "You were there."

And he's sure she can find somebody who can do all of that a lot better than he can. Because for all of Richie's wanton talk about sex, even since Derry, his actual understanding of all of it has been pretty fucking limited until recently.

[negative_feedback]

"Stop," she says firmly, the side of her hand slapping her palm in a way that brooks no argument. "It wasn't great. So what? We've never done that before. I'm not breaking up with you just because we did a bad job at a new thing."

[the_trashmouth]

"So you could find somebody better at it!" Richie replies, "It's not like it'd be hard."

Maybe it's a good thing that he never told Eddie or Stan or Bev or Bill about any of this; now none of them can give him shit for saying he knew everything about sex. Though, come to think of it, he hasn't done that for a while now.

[negative_feedback]

"I don't want somebody better at it!" she insists, emphatically enough that she actually snaps "don't want" aloud. "I want to get better at it with you!" She moves from her side of the bed to his and sits, pressing his hands down onto his lap so he doesn't try to argue. "You're my boyfriend, Richie. I don't suddenly hate you just because our first time was bad. If you—"

She tries not to stammer, tries not to let the idea of what she's about to say get to her, but fails, so she tries again.

"If you don't hate me because I brought you to my weird, messed up home with those things that hurt you, then I'm definitely not gonna hate you for not being a- a- sex master the first time you ever do it."

[the_trashmouth]

Regan pins his hands down so he can't interrupt and Richie frowns as she speaks. When she's finally done, he takes longer to reply than he thought he would.

"That wasn't your fault. Why would I hate you for that?" he asks, and even though going home with Regan had been really fucked up, he knows she didn't do it on purpose. None of it had been on purpose. Plus, for all that Richie has trouble remembering what happened the summer he ended up in Darrow, he knows his own home was pretty fucked up too.

"...I think this was my fault."

[negative_feedback]

He still argues, but it's different, now. Regan's frown gentles and she looks at him with a bit more confusion.

"What do you mean? It's nobody's fault."

[the_trashmouth]

"I'm the one who asked if you wanted to do this in the first place," he says, and he pauses, nervously straightening his glasses even though they don't really need straightening.

Then he considers something awful.

"Do you think it would have been better if we hadn't done it at all?"

[negative_feedback]

Regan watches him, and she gives him a look that tells him plainly she thinks he's full of shit. Then he asks if it would've been better if they hadn't done it, and that look vanishes, to be replaced by something closer to shock.

"What? How is that better? How are we gonna learn if we don't try?"

[the_trashmouth]

"I don't know!" Richie says, but it still feels shitty that they went to all this trouble for that.

"I know what we talked about, but... I don't know, I thought it'd be okay anyway, I guess."

[negative_feedback]

"Look, when I talked to Greta, she said it was probably gonna be disappointing," she admits. "And that makes sense! It's both our first times. We have no idea what we're doing. That's part of why we do it, isn't it? To learn?"

[the_trashmouth]

"This whole time you were expecting it to be shitty?" he asks, looking almost offended, even though Steve had basically told him something similar.

But somehow he'd still thought that maybe... maybe it didn't have to be that way after all.

"Wait, you told Greta?!"

[negative_feedback]

"I wasn't expecting it to be shitty," she argues. "Just not amazing. And of course I told her!" A little more bashfully, she admits, "I... was gonna ask if we could do it there. But we talked a lot about all of it, and she pointed out that, like, there's this whole big expectation about first times and everything, and it's okay if it's not great. Stuff like that."

There'd been a lot more to it, of course, but most of it she doesn't want to get into.

[the_trashmouth]

"Is she gonna be pissed off that we did this?" he asks without thinking, because if Regan already talked to her about it and she was still able to to come to Kagura, then she must have been okay with it.

Which is pretty fucking cool, actually. Except for the fact that she'll know about it, the next time Richie sees her.

His eyes go a little wide for a second at the idea of it.

"I... I guess Steve said something like that too, when I asked him."

[negative_feedback]

Regan's eyes widen and she gently socks Richie's upper arm. "You told Steve? And you're fussing at me about telling Greta?" But she's smiling, at least, starting to relax.

[the_trashmouth]

"That's different!" Richie argues, and almost says that Steve isn't like his mom, but he knows that Regan misses her actual mom, as much as she likes Greta.

He decides to say it a different way instead.

"I don't... live with Steve!"

[negative_feedback]

Regan rolls her eyes. "It's not different. She won't be weird about it. Come on." She stands, then grips his hands and tugs at him to get him to stand, too. "Let's go get cocoa, and... maybe we can try again after we relax."

[the_trashmouth]

He lets Regan tug him to his feet, even as he's still frowning. But it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that Greta's definitely gonna look at him weird now.

"You're sure?" he asks, "And you're definitely not gonna dump me when we get downstairs? Because it'll really fucking suck to be dumped by someone I love."

The word isn't an accident. Maybe if he'd only said and not signed the word, it might seem that way, but the truth is, a while ago, Richie had made sure that word was one he knew how to sign. He'd practiced it, because he knew he'd want to use it, he just wasn't sure when.

[negative_feedback]

She stares at him, like she's trying to figure out if he's messing with her. That'd be a really awful think to joke about, but she's gotten good at reading Richie's cues. He uses humor to handle a lot, but there are times when he's deeply sincere, too.

Times like now.

A shiver passes through her and she nearly tackles him back onto the bed with the enthusiasm behind the kiss she gives him.

[the_trashmouth]

And suddenly she's kissing him and it feels like maybe everything's going to be okay after all. Even if this whole thing was fucking weird and not what either of them expected.

When she pulls away, he straightens his glasses and grins down at her.

"That wasn't weird?" he asks, and he's still grinning, even though he realizes she didn't say it back.

[negative_feedback]

"You're weird," she says fondly. "But I love you, too, which is a big reason I'm not breaking up with you." She adjusts his glasses gently and kisses him again. Then she socks his arm again. "I can't believe you just threw that out there so casually. Jerk."

[the_trashmouth]

"Ow," Richie says, even though it doesn't actually hurt and even though there's still a grin on his face. It actually feels like his heart might burst.

"Sorry," he signs, "Next time not so casual. A banner on your locker after we go back to school okay?

[negative_feedback]

That, at least, earns a little bit of a blush as she imagines that. She shakes her head and kisses him again.

"No banner needed," she assures. "However, cocoa? Definitely needed."

[the_trashmouth]

Richie's grin widens and he nods. In one smooth motion, he hops backward and dives into a Voice, exaggerating his Sign as he does so.

"Then to the lobby we shall go, madame!" he says, even though he has to substitute lobby for 'downstairs' because he realizes too late that he has no idea how to say 'lobby.'

He holds out his arm, elbow out, for Regan to take.

[negative_feedback]

This feels more normal, more correct, and Regan feels her shoulders relaxing in a way that they hadn't even after Richie had dropped the L word on her. She rolls her eyes with a fond smile, but plays along.

"After you," she says, then tucks her hand into his elbow, like they're some couple out of an old black and white movie.

Maybe the whole thing hadn't been perfect, but this part is making up for it, in her opinion.