It hadn't really occurred to Nathaniel that John would be able to speak just fine and he scolded himself for thinking so. Was that considered ableist? Ignorant at best, that much was a logical certainty. Embarrassed by his own regressive thinking, Nathaniel's cheeks flared when the man came up, his fingers flying in a language Nathaniel didn't understand. Did he offer his own hand to shake?
Instead, Nathaniel nervously thumbed at the pin. He started to lower his chin before speaking, but realized John probably wouldn't be able to read his lips that way, if he read lips. If he could, would Nathaniel's accent make it more difficult? Oh, it was all just getting worse.
Nathaniel took a deep breath. "Me, too," he said dumbly. "If I'd known that, I would have invited you to mine and we would have Door Dashed it."