Chinese names are hard. Scratch that, Chinese in general was hard. There was a solid abundance of tones, a substantially high number of characters, and the Chinese to Korean dictionary? Far more complicated than figuring out how to make a damn lightsaber. But let's be real here, there have been times where Jungwoo sits at his desk and tries to mimic the [lack of] phonetic sound of Chinese words through google translate.

It never works.

His justification? He's Korean. His tongue and mouth aren't made for this language. He stumbles and chokes, sticks his tongue out in frustration when something doesn't sound right, and why does it seem like 'zi' is in almost every word? He's done. Finished. Mandarin is just something he can't do and he doesn't know why he even bothers with it as much as he does.

Oh right - Yixing.

Yixing. Zhang Yixing. Jang Issing. The love of his life that he does so adore whose name is something he feels so, so confident in saying.

"It's my favorite word," he states, assured with his ability to say 'xing' in the first tone, not fourth. It's the only thing that really makes sense.

"But you stumble over it all the time," Yixing retorts, eyes concentrated on the yogurt that's T-minus 15 minutes to expiration. They're supposed to be on a vegan diet for the week as another result of Jungwoo's [not so] genius ideas. However, Yixing had managed to con Jungwoo into eating these cups of blueberry yogurts before they expired. After all, they were expensive sounded like a legitimate enough of a reason to give them a pass for the night. Besides, it's Thursday. They have three more days left in this vegan whateverthisis and Yixing misses eating eggs. Jungwoo also really misses eating meat. The whole idea was a bad one from the start [as always].

"I do not!" Jungwoo says no, no but his pronunciation says yes, yes. "I say it just fine. Listen: Yixing." Butchered.

"All I hear is Yixisdfjhdng." And it's true. The tone slurs, but only by a little bit and Yixing finds it incredibly endearing despite the fact that Jungwoo sits there looking absolutely offended.

Jungwoo's silly. Yixing likes that.

"Here, let me teach you the trick." There's a trick? Of course there's a trick. There's always a trick and Jungwoo doesn't know whether or not to squint at the lack of knowledge of said trick or to sit up with an interested disposition.

He opts for the second choice and is promptly surprised by what happens next.

Kissing Yixing is, to say in the least, always a delight. His heart pounds, butterflies flap around clumsily in his stomach, and he swears he still blushes despite it being six months since they've made them an official 'us'. Honeymoon phase, others will come to believe, but Jungwoo has desperately concluded otherwise. This simply wasn't a stage in their relationship that could be labeled and pre-determined as a "level". This was them and this was real and real things stick around for a long time. At least, Jungwoo seems to think so and oh - Yixing's doing something with his tongue.

It's being mouthed against him, Yixing's name, and suddenly the kiss is turning from something sweet into something telling. There's something different about this and Jungwoo concludes that the teeth tugging and pulling so familiar at his lips are more insistent this time - more direct. This is a kiss with meaning. This is a kiss with purpose. This is a kiss where he can feel the sense of Xing and almost, so very faintly, see where he's going wrong.

[ Maybe he wasn’t expecting the trick to go this way. Actually, take out the maybe and Jungwoo definitely didn’t expect the trick to turn out this way. He doesn’t complain, however. Not when he feels lips and teeth and tongue and his breath hitches because this is probably the first time they’ve ever kissed this way - with such genuine anticipation and thought, with quenched curiosity and satisfaction. He likes it, everything about it. He likes how this is different and how absolute this feels, he likes how he is being led and taught and loved all at once and most especially, he likes the way Yixing’s tongue glides along his retainer and causes him to laugh through his nose. This is so silly, but his jaw is being rubbed with delicate fingers and he can’t find it in him to want to stop. What kind of idiot would want to? ]

Xing. It’s written across his tongue in a kind of secret promise, in a kind of silent notion that makes his knees weak and his head spin. He has to make his tongue take this shape of Xing - the shape of forever and the shape of goosebumps across his arms. His heart has never raced so fast in his life and that was the irony of it all.

"Xing," Yixing says after he pulls away all too soon for Jungwoo's liking. "That's the shape you have to make with your tongue."

And Jungwoo gets it. He finally gets it. It's not much and it's definitely not as accomplished as saying 'where's the bathroom?' in Chinese, but it's enough. Yixing, after all, is his most favorite word to say.

“Xing,” he repeats experimentally. Yes, Xing feels right and he knows how to make the shape of it. Xing is of second nature. “Yixing,” it’s so beautiful in his ears, always so beautiful in his ears and he grins because Yixing's nodding his head in what seems to be in approval as he returns his attention back to swirling his [T-minus 1 minute expired] yogurt around.

"You got it. See, I'm good to you." Yixing believes that his name has never sounded sweeter and if there was one thing that he could wish for, it would be that Jungwoo keeps 'Yixing' on the back of his tongue forever. Keep it, safe-guard it, protect my name and drape it around you as a declaration of our love and understanding.

"Indubitably so, love.”

"Indubitablskehfjs." Pause. ".. I don't like your language."

That's okay. Korean's a hard language.