Kisses

The aspect of language. It had once been a big problem when Tseng hadn’t yet possessed much knowledge about other languages aside from his native Wutainese. That was why he had tried his best while learning and succeeded in his learning, indeed. However, his way to speaking the common language perfectly was an entertaining one. The conversation, lacking the proper verbal aspect, always demanded that he was extremely attentive and inventive, concentrating all his thoughts on achieving the goal of the talk and making sure that the partner understood everything he wanted to say. It was easy while he was a child. There existed only some simple rules: if you wanted to understand the conversation partner, you needed to watch their lips and be wary of gestures the person was making with their hands, head, or shoulders. If you felt like you couldn’t express your thoughts in words, you had to resort to explaining them with the aid of gestures yourself. If you wanted to thank someone, you would just give them a polite nod. A smile for expressing happiness, an arching brow for surprise, a frown for anger. And simple means of showing somebody your affection — a kiss. The way of the body predominating over the way of words. And though now able to dialogue in the same language with this man, Tseng still knew that today their talk would lack the verbal aspect as well. Much would be left unspoken due to the fact that, after a short cold, Tseng had almost completely lost his voice. However, there were some things he was so eager to convey… Looking into the other man’s eyes, Tseng smiled a soft smile, as if apologizing for not uttering a word of greeting. He could, but he let himself spare the voice for some time. There totally was no need to apologize, because the man standing in the doorway appeared to be well aware of the Turk’s current condition. “Oh…” Reeve shook his head as he took off his coat. “Poor thing, you should have taken better care of yourself.” Tseng only smirked in return. This time, he’d managed to get better in no time. If only it were not for the voice… “I’ll make you hot honey with lemon, and don’t even try to protest.” His guest made a move towards the kitchen when Tseng’s hand caught hold of his palm, cold still from the weather outside. The look on Reeve’s face was a mixture of surprise and kindness. Tseng wasn’t about to say anything. Sometimes they needed no words, so he pulled the man closer and pressed lips on the corner of his mouth — a sign of gratitude, an expression of thanks. That kiss — the touch of his warm lips left on the other man’s skin — meant all the possible words he couldn’t utter. But first of all, it said, “I love you.” And Tseng couldn’t have said it better.